Chapter 1099: Spiritual Premonition

In an underground location in Trier, a place strictly guarded by multiple Beyonders from the Eternal Blazing Sun and the Church of Steam and Machinery.

This was a seal leakage point that had appeared before the construction of the catacombs, which was later properly handled and no longer caused problems. However, if linked with the square in the nearby quarry hollow where Eternal Blazing Sun and God of Steam and Machinery were worshiped, along with the stone pillars representing both deities, it could allow people from outside the seal to enter Fourth Epoch Trier at a certain risk.

Although this required the divine power of the Eternal Blazing Sun or the God of Steam and Machinery as a “key”, something impossible for cultists to utilize, both Churches still insisted on sending teams to take turns guarding the site.

At this moment, Angoulême arrived at the abandoned mine with two other Unshadowed colleagues, facing three people dressed as stonemasons.

“Let’s begin,” said a monk with short, thick hair and a beard, nodding at Angoulême.

Angoulême recognized this monk as the current prior of the Deep Valley Cloister, named Jack Walton, quite an ordinary man.

“Okay.” Angoulême nodded in response.

Under the watch of both guard teams, they lowered their heads and took their positions, chanting the honorific names of their respective deities.

Rays of sunlight fell from the cave’s top, illuminating the abandoned mine.

White steam subsequently permeated the quarry hollow.

Soon, crimson blood seeped from the depths of the abandoned mine.

The bizarre blood, resisting the sunlight, continuously surged upward, quickly filling the mine.

Angoulême, an Unshadowed, dissolved his fear and hesitation, raised his head, took two steps forward, and entered the abandoned mine, stepping into the crimson blood thick with a bloody scent.

Other Saints followed closely behind.

Passing through the “Blood Well” would allow entry into Fourth Epoch Trier!

This was not a simple task. The “blood” would cause severe corruption, with the danger increasing for higher Sequences.

…

Southern Continent, deep in a rainforest.

Before a terrifying castle covered in countless human skins.

Franca, Jenna, Anthony, and Ludwig each condensed fire spears of blue-violet, blazing and terrifying.

Without Lumian issuing the command, they simultaneously threw their spears.

The blue-violet fire spears split mid-air, quickly presenting a sky-covering arrangement.

Swoosh! Swoosh! Swoosh!

It was as if an entire military legion had simultaneously launched their weapons, causing the high sky to brighten and be dyed with brilliant colors.

Swoosh! Swoosh! Swoosh!

The human skin castle was completely covered by countless fire spears. The cultists developed by the Rose School of Thought used every possible ability but could not change this apocalyptic scene.

Rumble, the earth trembled, the castle collapsed, igniting blue-violet flames.

Painful wails and desperate curses echoed between the flames, transforming into thin strands of black gas rising upward.

Ludwig didn’t care what the soon-to-die cultists were cursing. He stepped forward, rode the wild wind, and howled to arrive above the collapsed human skin castle, opening his mouth split to the back of his head.

Whoosh!

All the rising black gas was sucked into his mouth.

Lumian had his hands in his pockets, smiling and watching this scene, his expression very leisurely.

From breaking through the human skin castle’s outer defensive line, to gradually advancing and cutting off their escape hopes, to repeatedly attacking the castle itself and completely destroying it, Lumian never personally acted, allowing Jenna and others to freely perform and cooperate tacitly.

He was only responsible for central command, sharing appropriate abilities at critical moments.

“Not strong enough,” Franca finally felt like a Demoness amidst those wails and curses.

The only issue was that the master of the human skin castle was just a Sequence 4 Tree Supplicant, a bestowed by the Mother Tree of Desire, though he had a group of Low and Mid-Sequence subordinates and numerous loyal cultists. The human skin castle itself was like a sacrificial ritual that could briefly display power equivalent to Sequence 2 by sacrificing many humans, but it fundamentally couldn’t resist a true Angel, let alone an Angel leading a team.

“Overwhelming the weak and sweeping through armies is also a form of war, which is quite helpful for digesting the War Bishop role,” Lumian laughed and responded to Franca. “Moreover, previously abstract cooperation has now become a tangibly perceptible thing.”

What Lumian didn’t say was that he was essentially equivalent to a priest or bishop of the City of Calamity or 0-01 due to his close connections, with only the war aspect lacking.

Over the past week, Mr. Star and Mr. Moon had each discovered a base secretly established by the Rose School of Thought, both handed over to Lumian to handle, giving him the opportunity to launch two small wars.

Seeing Ludwig consume all the dispersed boons’ power, Jenna retracted her gaze and said to Lumian with some worry, “I know the Southern Continent is chaotic, but getting opportunities for two small wars in just over a week—isn’t this too frequent?”

Lumian chuckled and said, “These are signs.

“Signs of chaos and conflict, signs that the apocalypse will arrive early.”

Before Jenna and others could respond, Lumian waved to Ludwig in mid-air, saying, “Let’s head back. Let’s have a barbecue party today.”

According to their agreement, apart from the dispersed boons’ power, all other spoils had to be left for the intelligence providers—Mr. Star or Mr. Moon.

In the luxurious villa in Trier that currently belonged to Lumian and his companions.

Jenna was using invisible spider silk to quickly slice and string meat skewers while watching Lumian, who despite having extremely strong fire manipulation abilities, was seriously managing charcoal for grilling meat.

Lumian wore a smile, relaxed, tasting a piece while grilling.

He’s not worried about those signs at all… No, not that he’s not worried, but he worries when he should worry, fights when he should fight, and enjoys life when he should enjoy life. Jenna thought, her eyes subtly moving.

Over the past week, Lumian, who had made certain progress in digesting the Weather Warlock potion and stabilized his state, was behaving quite normally. Their relationship had returned to the period before the Vortex incident, and moreover, Lumian had clearly become more proactive.

But from some details, Jenna could still sense that Lumian was slightly different from before.

A normal person would inevitably be affected in daily life when encountering worrying matters. Lumian’s ability to completely detach himself indicated he was deliberately controlling his emotions.

Even at Sequence 2, godhood ultimately brings certain, permanent influences… Jenna suddenly felt somewhat emotional.

“What ‘s on your mind?” Franca, helping beside her, asked curiously.

Jenna lowered her voice and shared her recent feelings with Franca in a concise manner.

Franca pursed her lips and said, “Just treat it as a natural change in mindset and perception that everyone experiences as they grow older and are tempered by various experiences…”

She stopped midway.

Wasn’t this true for herself as well?

The same applied to Jenna. Walking step by step to her current Sequence, she had more or less abandoned some of her original insistences.

Just as Jenna was about to say something, she saw Lumian throw a grilled meat skewer aside, and Ludwig, who somehow had moved there, bit into the food in one mouthful.

“Feeding a dog?” Franca laughingly scolded Lumian.

Jenna couldn’t help but laugh as well.

…

Deep in Fourth Epoch Trier, dense fog isolated sensory perception and spirituality, making the partially collapsed buildings in the distance appear hazy and indistinct.

The Unshadowed had filled the surrounding thirty to forty meters with pure, holy sunlight, to the point where even each person’s shadow had disappeared.

The quietly rolling fog was blocked outside the sunlight, but the light could not reach further.

Angoulême cast his gaze toward Jack Walton.

The prior of Deep Valley Cloister, a Saint-level monk, was holding an unusual circular disk covered in complex patterns with a mirror-like luster.

Placed on the disk was an object supposedly from the Louis Gustav family crest, which swayed left and right before finally settling in a certain direction.

“Over there.” Jack Walton was leading this search.

The disk was something he had made just two days ago, derived from a revelation’s knowledge. The Gustav family crest was not a real object, but a historical projection—this did not impede its role as a medium pointing toward Louis Gustav.

Just as Angoulême and the other Unshadowed followed Jack Walton into a new street, a black shadow suddenly passed in front of them.

The shadow was slightly hunched, moving slowly at the intersection.

At a glance, it looked like a person, but upon closer inspection, it seemed like a gathering of viscous black liquid.

“A Montsouris ghost!” Angoulême quickly identified the origin of the black shadow.

This left Jack Walton and other clergy from the Church of Steam and Machinery confused.

Weren’t Montsouris ghosts supposed to wander in Underground Trier? How could they enter Fourth Epoch Trier?

Information about Montsouris ghosts quickly flashed through the minds of these demigods who were not afraid of ghostly curses, quickly reminding them that these “ghosts” were not always present and had appeared only in recent times.

Did Montsouris ghosts come out of Fourth Epoch Trier? And more than one? Such speculation emerged in the minds of Jack Walton and other Saints.

…

In the luxurious villa.

Lumian suddenly felt his entire body go icy cold, unable to breathe, as if sinking into viscous river water.

The next second, his eyes reflected a black shadow resembling a hunched elderly person.

A Montsouris ghost!

Lumian’s heart tightened, and he sat up abruptly.

He truly opened his eyes, seeing everything in the room was completely normal, with no Montsouris ghost in sight!

“What happened?” Franca, wrapped in a thin blanket and yawning, also sat up.

Lumian was silent for a few seconds before saying, “I dreamed of a Montsouris ghost.”

Franca was first stunned, then her expression turned solemn. “For a Demoness, this could be a spiritual premonition.”

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