501 Honorific Name
City of Exiles, Morora, doesn’t exist? When Lumian perused the information Ludwig had “stolen,” he couldn’t shake the sensation that Morora was vivid and right before him. This stemmed from the fact that the scribe had meticulously chronicled every folklore and characteristic of the city. Even those who hadn’t set foot there could conjure a mental image.

Yet, Madam Magician had just dropped the bombshell—the City of Exiles, Morora, didn’t exist in Lenburg!

I read it so intently, feeling so nervous and afraid. Finally, you tell me, ‘I’m sorry, I made all this up?’ As Lumian grappled with the absurdity, his gaze reverted to the letter, eager to uncover Madam Magician’s speculations.

The Major Arcana card holder teased, “Perhaps the individual who penned this Sealed Artifact information had already lost their sanity, conjuring the City of Exiles, Morora.

“Maybe it’s a colossal prison nestled in the mountains, patrolled by guards. They provide supplies unattainable independently and remain cut off from the outside world.

“Perhaps Morora is genuinely an imagined City of Exiles, yet, in a peculiar way, it already exists…

“Don’t dismiss the first and third conjectures as absurd or hyperbolic, making them implausible. Let me enlighten you; when dealing with Grade 0 Sealed Artifacts, numerous things defy common sense and intuition. Especially when we’re talking about 0-01.

“Personally, I fancy the first conjecture. It emanates a fantastical beauty. A deranged Keeper jotting down information about a Sealed Artifact, filled with ramblings and delusions, and treating it as reality. But what about the truth? Where did it vanish to? Is it no longer in place?”

At the sight of this, Lumian felt an inexplicable chill, and his hair stood on end.

Madam Magician had expounded terrifying possibilities. Moreover, she had employed seemingly casual strokes, brisk descriptions, and a barrage of questions to cultivate an atmosphere of composure and distortion, pushing one’s nerves to the brink. Prolonged contemplation of it could drive one to the brink of insanity.

Isn’t this superior to the narrative prowess of most current bestselling authors in crafting horror tales? Lumian critiqued his Major Arcana card holder.

Shaking his head, he relegated 0-01 and the City of Exiles to the recesses of his mind.

He feared that dwelling on it might tip him into madness.

It wasn’t out of the realm of possibility. Lumian hadn’t slept since perusing the information. While he leveraged the 6 a.m. reset of his body every morning to alleviate fatigue, he occasionally heard indescribable and spine-chilling voices resembling calls from the depths of the mountains.

Phew… Lumian exhaled and resumed reading the letter.

“Alright, I won’t terrify you any longer. In essence, until you truly confront 0-01, don’t summarily dismiss any conjecture or potentiality.

“I’ve verified the auditory hallucinations you mentioned. It’s a mild corruption induced by delving into 0-01’s information. Some entities can induce corruption merely by knowing their names instead of their code names. Fortunately, your destiny is entwined with that long-named fellow. To some extent, it’s akin to having the status of an Angel. Furthermore, you bear Mr. Fool’s seal, the Blood Emperor’s aura, and other high-level paraphernalia. That’s why you only experienced a faint auditory hallucination and sensed the beckoning. You didn’t suddenly descend into paranoia and extremism, harboring a desire to seek treasure in the mountains before vanishing one night.”

Madam Magician revels in spinning horror stories. She insists on expanding concise explanations into potential scenarios for me… Lumian had been in correspondence with his Major Arcana card holder for quite some time, becoming well-acquainted with her choice of words and writing style.

“Let me remind you that you’re akin to an Angel to some extent, yet you won’t succumb to the corruption associated with higher Sequences. That’s what sets you apart. It’s why you can venture into many peculiar places. Hence, some entities seek to exploit this. Exercise caution and vigilance, continually scrutinizing yourself.

“By the way, Miss Justice and Judgment extend their gratitude. The revelation of 0-01 and Vermonda Sauron’s whereabouts allowed them to fulfill a mission entrusted by Mr. Fool before his slumber. Hence, the rewards are particularly generous this time…

“Your concerns are valid. If you miss the initial trail, whether it’s Bard, Mad Lady, or the traces left by other key members of April Fool’s, it’s more likely a trap than a clue. Of course, traps can yield certain information. As long as you can withstand the associated peril, you might uncover the architect of the trap.

“If, and I say if, you chance upon a High-Sequence Beyonder of the Seer, Apprentice, and Marauder pathways while delving into the whereabouts of the key members of April Fool’s, you can invoke my name and seek my assistance.

“Remember, this is my name. It carries the power to conceal secrets from others.

“Cosmic Traveler, beholden to the King of Yellow and Black, and the Sorcerer chronicling the world.”

The King of Yellow and Black is an alias for Mr. Fool… Cosmic Traveler and chronicling the world sounds amazing… Could she truly be the Angel of Stars from the Bible? As Lumian committed it to memory, he witnessed the honorific name gradually fading, as if erased and consumed by the void.

At the conclusion of the letter, Madam Magician added: “The Minor Arcana, Knight of Swords, subordinate to Ma’am Hermit, journeyed to Feynapotter a few months ago for a certain matter. When you arrive there, should you require assistance or information, you can reach out to him.

“His messenger is:

“A peculiar creature wandering above the world, a half-fairy who fiddles with melodic strings, a messenger that belongs solely to the Knight of Swords.”

Half-fairy… Lumian had skimmed through information about such spirit world creatures, mainly to select a suitable contract partner. He hadn’t delved into the details, making it challenging to recall.

Simultaneously, he noted that the Knight of Swords’s messenger incantation deviated from the conventional format. Perhaps there was concern that foes could decipher the correct three-line description and summon the messenger to target him.

Regardless, with the limiting phrase “a messenger that belongs solely to the Knight of Swords,” the second sentence didn’t necessarily have to depict a creature friendly to humans. However, since it could serve as the messenger of the Knight of Swords, it could tacitly be considered as friendly to humans.

Lumian reread Madam Magician’s letter from start to finish, mindful not to overlook any crucial information embedded in her cryptic statements.

Suddenly, a knock echoed on the bedroom door.

Lumian glanced up, and the door creaked open. Ludwig stuck his chubby head out and, in a daze, uttered, “I’m hungry. It’s time for you to cook.”

“Didn’t you just eat plenty of cake and crackers?” Lumian’s lips twitched.

Ludwig replied seriously, “That’s dessert, not the main course.”
Subtly, he licked his lips.

“Moreover, your culinary skills are quite impressive, and those dishes are quite unique. With a chef around, I don’t want to settle for raw beef, hard bread, and freshly bought potatoes.”

The boy’s expression turned pleading.

Lumian scoffed.

“Why don’t you do it yourself?”

“I can only cook by myself after I recover a little,” Ludwig replied subconsciously before changing his tone. “I’m still a child. You’re actually asking me to cook in the kitchen? Aren’t you afraid that I’ll be injured by a knife or burned?”

I’m just afraid you’ll eat the knife… What does it mean to cook after recovering a little? Is Chef a higher rank than your current Sequence’s strength? Can’t you cook if you’re not a chef? Lumian observed Ludwig leaning against the door frame, looking at him with expectant brown eyes, and suddenly found the scene familiar.

In the past, he had begged his sister Aurore in the same way.

Lumian sighed and stood up.

“I’m only responsible for three meals. The rest of the time, rely on dessert, bread, and cold dishes. Don’t bother me.”

As he spoke, he left the bedroom and entered the kitchen.

While donning an apron and engrossed in cooking, Ludwig, in a caramel coat, waited at the kitchen door, occasionally wiping his mouth.

After pan-frying a steak, Lumian picked it up and casually tossed it out.

Ludwig deftly caught it, tore it in a few bites, and stuffed it down his abdomen.

Observing this, Lumian chuckled inwardly, feeling that this fellow was even more absurd than he had been back then.

…

In Underground Trier, within a quarry cave.

Lumian stood before the altar, encircled by the recently dismantled wall of spirituality.

He had completed the Contractee summoning ritual and gained two new contracted abilities. Now, he awaited Franca and the others to witness who could successfully gain a messenger.

One of these abilities was Shadow Transformation. It allowed Lumian to authentically morph into a shadow, merging with it to conceal himself and move stealthily—a skill he currently lacked.

While such abilities existed in the mystical knowledge of Contractees, Lumian opted to acquire them from the spirit world creature information provided by Madam Magician. This prevented the bestowed of Inevitability from discerning the negative effects he might endure.

Ultimately, Lumian contracted a spirit world creature known as Long Shadow. He sacrificed six servings of fresh cow and sheep meat in exchange for this ability, making him more susceptible to sunlight than ordinary humans.

This wasn’t as severe as the aversion Vampires had to sunlight. Lumian could endure it with his Ascetic endurance.

Another ability he had acquired was the Bottle of Fiction. He found the unique and practical ability demonstrated by the padre intriguing. It could effectively screen an enemy, creating a concealed space where the other party couldn’t escape and could only exit through the bottle’s opening; traps could be added.

Since no spirit world creature could provide this ability, Lumian summoned the creature called the Fantasy Face and completed the contract with a bottle of blood with strong spirituality.

The blood needed to come from a Beyonder above Sequence 7 or a corresponding Beyonder creature. Lumian, naturally, wouldn’t use his own blood, as sacrificing it to the Fantasy Face could gradually transform him into a monster. Instead, he used the blood Madam Magician extracted from Gardner Martin’s corpse—one of the supplementary ingredients for a Reaper. It was substantial, and there was plenty.

The corresponding downside was a trace of greed.

Before long, Franca, Jenna, and Anthony arrived at the quarry cave, one after another.