Chapter 112 A Tiny Hope (asking for monthly tickets) A few days ago, under the bloody "mountain", next to the twisted "city wall". Lumian knelt on the ground, looking up at the mysterious lady getting closer and closer. The other party's words fell clearly into his ears, but gradually became blurred. Lumian supported himself on the ground with his hands and unconsciously clenched them, as if he wanted to squeeze the soil in his palms into liquid. When the mysterious lady stopped about one meter away, he struggled to stand up and asked anxiously: "Didn't you say there was still hope? "Didn't you say that you could save Auror and the others by breaking the cycle yourself?" Lumian's voice became hoarse as he spoke. The mysterious lady did not respond, but just looked at him quietly, with no less pity in her eyes. Lumienne paused, then asked expectantly: "Is there really any hope? "That was definitely not a pure dream. When Aurore and I discussed it, she could tell me things that I didn't even know or understand, just like the description of that honorific name could vaguely point to two beings!" He stared at the lady, watching her every move, feeling both fear and hope.

Finally, the mysterious lady nodded: "There is indeed hope." Lumian's eyes lit up as he waited for the other party to say the next words. The lady said in a soft voice: "Aurore is gone in a practical sense, but mystically she is not quite dead yet. "Do you remember that every time you performed the Dance of Revelation, at the end you would hear tiny, faint sounds that seemed to come from your body? Do you remember that at the end of the Twelfth Night ceremony, some light fragments from Aurore and the others flew into your chest?" “Is that their spirit, their voice?” Lumian interrupted the mysterious lady and asked impatiently. The lady replied calmly and compassionately: “It can only be regarded as a fragment of the soul. "At the end of the Twelfth Night, you became the vessel for the mysterious existence to unleash its terrifying power. The soul fragments of the believers around you, including the sacrifices, were naturally absorbed by you, with the exception of Guillaume Bene, who presided over the ceremony. "Afterwards, these soul fragments and the highly polluting power were sealed in your left chest by my Lord. "So, as you become more and more 'lucid' in your dreams and can clearly perceive the dates and cycles, Aurore and the other villagers will become more and more like real people, and can even show a certain degree of self-awareness and thinking ability. “So, if you want to truly wake up from the dream, if you want to gather the circulating power that permeates these ruins, you can only rely on yourself to think clearly, find the courage to face the pain, face all of this, and pursue the elusive hope. "If it's up to me, there's only one option, which is to completely destroy you and the ruins of Cordu Village. Otherwise, the pollution in your body will inevitably leak out. In that case, Aurore and the others will truly die in terms of mysticism." Hearing the mysterious lady mention the ritual of Twelfth Night, Lumian couldn't help but recall it. His head suddenly felt a sharp pain, and only a few fragmented images emerged: Aurore, with a hollow look in her eyes, pushed him away from the altar; Pieces of light flew out from Aurore and the surrounding villagers and fell into the vortex in his chest; The parish priest, Guillaume Bennet, showed a look of astonishment and turned and fled from the altar. Apart from this, Lumian could not remember anything else but what happened in his dream, as if some force was preventing him from recalling. His expression was distorted, and he whispered with a trembling body:

"I, I can't remember a lot of things..." The lady nodded: "This is normal. First, it's your subconscious self-protection, to prevent too many sad memories and too shocking images from causing you to collapse on the spot and lose control and become a monster. Second, there are some things that you have never witnessed and you don't know the truth. Of course, I don't know either. "Well, I will ask you to go to Trier to do something. I know one, no, two, very good psychologists who are in Trier. I can help you make an appointment with them and see who is free to give you some treatment to help you remember more things and restore what happened in Cordu Village as much as possible." Lumian felt a myriad of emotions surging through his heart, but when all he could say came out of his mouth, it became just one word: "Thanks……" He clenched his hands and asked anxiously: "Then what should I do to revive Aurore and the others?" The lady sighed and said: "I do not know either." Seeing Lumian's eyes dimmed for a moment, she added: “But you have to believe that there are real miracles in this world. "And the great being I mentioned before is synonymous with 'miracle'." Feelings of despair and luck were growing wildly in Lumian's heart at the same time. Although he knew that the mysterious lady in front of him was probably just comforting him and giving him a little hope, he still couldn't help but speak: "You said that after I solved the secret of the dream, you would tell me the name of that great being." The lady's expression became solemn and her tone became serious: “I’m telling you now, remember it carefully. “His name is: "The Fool who does not belong to this era, the mysterious master above the gray fog, the King of Yellow and Black who controls good luck." As the words came out, Lumian gradually became dazed, as if he saw a thin gray fog, and above the gray fog, infinitely high, there was a castle looming in the distance. There were eyes staring over there. At the same time, the entire Koldu Village was shaking, and the thin mist that permeated the place quickly receded. By the time Lumian regained consciousness and vision, the sun had already poured down from the sky, tinging the blood-colored "mountains" and the barren earth with golden dots. Lumian thought back to the three-part honorific name, remembering the discussion he had with Aurore in his dream. This made him feel a little sad for a moment, and he smiled bitterly: "I thought there would be descriptions involving the past, present and future." The mysterious lady in the orange dress said, "Hmm." “There should be one in the future, but if you pray to Him now using descriptions other than the three honorific names I just mentioned, I cannot guarantee that He will respond. "You should be aware that situations like this are extremely dangerous." Lumian was silent for a few seconds, then asked with a little hope:

"As long as I work hard to help you, I can eventually ask that great being to resurrect Auror?" "This is one way." The lady said softly, "You can also find other ways on your own. I won't stop you. I just want to remind you that many resurrection methods have serious flaws." Lumian nodded to show that he understood. He didn't dare to ask but couldn't help asking: "The resurrected one, could it be big?" The mysterious lady glanced at him, sighed and said: "It's very small, but I know you will still pursue it." Lumian pursed his lips tightly and said nothing. It's not that he didn't want to tell the other party that he would try his best to find a way to revive Auror, but he was afraid that once he opened his mouth, he would reveal the turbulent and sad emotions in his heart. After a few seconds, he asked hoarsely: "What do you need me to do in Trier?" "Go join a secret organization and help me gather some intelligence." The lady said simply, "I'll tell you how to contact them when you get to Trier." She then added: "In addition to looking for the truth from your memory, you can also go and investigate the 'survivors' of this disaster." “Survivors?” Lumian’s eyes gradually narrowed. The lady nodded: "Except you, there are five of us, including Madame Puaris, Beaustelle, Louis Longde, Cassie, who left Cordu Village before the Twelfth Night, and Guillaume Bennet, who presided over the ceremony and escaped before the complete destruction here under certain protection." “The parish priest is still alive?” Lumian’s lips curled up a little. The mysterious lady looked him in the eyes and said: "If my divination is correct, these people should be hiding somewhere in the Trier area." “Very good.” Lumian smiled and wiped his eyes with his hand. The lady then looked at Ryan, Leah, and Valentine who were sleeping on the edge of a room in the thorny "wall" and said to Lumian: “What are you going to do with them? "If they escape alive, you will definitely be wanted and listed as a key target to be arrested by the Eighth Bureau, the 'Mechanical Heart', and the Inquisition. "From now on, you can only hide. You will never be able to live in the sunshine. You will be accompanied by darkness, mud and danger." Lumian glanced at Ryan and the others, then smiled hoarsely: "Will killing them bring Aurora back to life?" The lady shook her head: "No." Lumian sneered immediately, lowered his head and closed his eyes.

Soon, he raised his head and asked: "What is the name of the organization I'm about to join? How can I contact you when I arrive in Trier?" The lady sighed slightly: “I’ll tell you then. "I will give you the summoning method and corresponding medium of my messenger later. You can contact me through it." Lumian was silent for a moment, then asked another question: "Do I have the power to put Cordu Village into a loop?" "Strictly speaking, you don't, at least not before you received the gift of the 'Man in the Ring'." The lady explained casually, "This place is contaminated by the hidden existence everywhere, and the power of the seal on your left chest is quite high. Therefore, when your emotions fluctuate greatly and you are in a subconscious state, you can mobilize the corresponding special power to restart this place." She paused and said: “But you yourself are always in a loop. "The pollution sealed in your body will reset your body state at 6 . every day, returning to 6 . at the end of Twelfth Night. Only the changes brought by the extraordinary characteristics and 'gifts' will be retained." Is this the real reason why I recover every time I get injured in the ruins? No wonder I didn't wake up from hunger... Lumian understood it immediately. He looked down at his body and said with a self-deprecating smile: “It’s always that day…” That nightmare day. Without waiting for the lady to respond, he raised his head, looked at her and said: "What should I call you?" The lady smiled: "You can call me..." Before she finished speaking, cards suddenly flew in the air. Each card had a different pattern on it, and they fell towards Lumian. Lumian instinctively stretched out his right hand, trying to catch some of the cards. At this moment, most of the cards mysteriously disappeared, leaving only one. The card fell lightly into Lumian's palm, face up, with a picture of a man holding a scepter toward the sky and pointing his left hand at the ground. Tarot card, "The Magician"! Lumian looked up in surprise, only to find that the mysterious lady had disappeared. Should I call her Ms. Magician? Lumian subconsciously turned over the tarot card in his hand and saw rows of small Intis words written there: "A spirit wandering in the void, a creature from the upper realm that is friendly to humans, and a messenger that belongs exclusively to the 'magician'." Lumian looked at it for a while and then put the tarot card away. He glanced at Ryan and the others, turned around, and left the area with a slightly staggering step. As he walked, Lumian couldn't help but look back and look at the bloody "mountain" and the twisted thorn "wall" again. The Cordu Village in his memory had become like this, without even a trace of the original being left. But Lumian still looked around and searched hard, trying to overlap the picture in his mind with reality. He wanted to take another look at the "giant" on the top of the "mountain", but he knew that it would bring serious harm to himself. Unconsciously, Lumian slowly circled the blood-red "mountain" and the thorny "wall", his eyes constantly moving over those twisted and chaotic things.

He knew what he was looking for, and he also knew he would never find it. Just like that, Lumian came to the place that was previously blocked by the wooden wall. Most of this place has collapsed, allowing people to see directly into the garden at the back. The lush green grass and colorful flowers in the garden form a sharp contrast with the bloody "mountain", the twisted "city wall" and the ruins on the other side. In the middle was a brown wooden crib, much like the one Lumien had seen in Lady Puaris's castle. He subconsciously moved closer and found a small human-shaped dent on the slightly worn white cotton swaddling clothes in the crib that was swaying in the wind. It seemed that a baby had once lain here, but now was nowhere to be found. What does this mean? As soon as this thought flashed through Lumian’s mind, he felt the sunlight shining down from the sky become much brighter. He instinctively raised his head and looked upwards, and saw golden flames completely engulfing the top of the "mountain". The three-headed, six-armed "giant" was looming in the sea of ​​fire and seemed to be melting. Lumian stared blankly for a few seconds, then suddenly raised his hands and covered his face. This "sunlight" is too dazzling. ………… Located in a semi-underground two-story building on the edge of the ruins. Lumian brought the 237 Felkin 46 Cope he had collected before, picked up the brown suitcase filled with clothes and memories, dragged his heavy feet to his sister's bedroom, stretched out his hand and pushed open the door. He is here to say goodbye. As soon as he stepped in and saw the desk with the manuscripts, his head suddenly ached and a picture emerged: Aurore's eyes turned slightly, no longer looking empty. She looked at Lumian who was pushed away and said with difficulty: "My notes..." My sister's witchcraft notebook? Is there important information on it? Lumian raised his hand to press his head, walked to the desk, and opened the drawer below. The familiar dark notebooks then came into his sight. He suddenly remembered that some time before the destruction of Cordu Village, Aurore had taught him a lot of mystical knowledge. ………… Liège region, steam train station. The ticket salesperson looked at Lumian outside and said: "Where are your identification documents?" “Forgot.” Lumian, who was wearing a linen shirt, a dark jacket, a round-brimmed black hat, and carrying a brown suitcase, replied coldly. Then he turned and left the window. A short man wearing a half-top hat and a black suit came over and said to Lumian in a low voice: "Would you like to take the stagecoach? To Bigorre." "Do you need identification?" Lumian asked. The little man laughed and said: “No, our industry is almost being killed by steam trains, why do we need identity documents? "Will you sit down? This is the last bit of romance left from the classical era!"

Lumian nodded slightly and asked: "How much." The little man instantly became enthusiastic: "It takes about a day to get from 20 Fergin to Bigor. There are five stops in between. We rest at each stop, change drivers and animals, and free food is provided at two of the stops." Lumian didn't ask any more questions and followed the short man to a deserted street nearby. A huge carriage pulled by four horses was parked on the side of the road. After Lumian got on, he found that the space inside was quite spacious. It was divided into two rows like a public carriage, with an aisle and space for large luggage. He found a seat by the window, put down his suitcase, and took out a book with a crimson cover. Listening to the horse's sneezes and looking at the sunlight outside the window, he flipped through the book. Sitting next to him was a man in his thirties with a nice moustache, brown hair, blue eyes, and a well-dressed suit. He glanced at the book in Lumian's hand and asked with interest: "'Eternal Love'? The one by Aurore Lee, where the heroine is Kingsley and the hero is Charles?" "Yes." Lumian nodded. The man with a mustache suddenly became interested in talking: "This book is Aurore Lee's earliest work. The writing is very immature, especially the dialogues between the characters. It doesn't sound like something that can be said in real life. It is so sensational that it makes people uncomfortable." "Yes." Lumian nodded again. He lowered his head, turned the book to the last few pages, and let his eyes fall on the corresponding text: "On her deathbed, Kingsley grabbed the hand that Charles extended to her, looked at his painful face, and tried to force a smile, then said with difficulty: "Stupid, live well." (End of Part 1) PS: Please give me a monthly ticket for this long chapter~ (End of this chapter)