685 Illusion

Outside Tizamo, near the entrance to the forest, Lumian and his companions heard gunshots and shouts echoing from the direction of the military camp. The population was denser here compared to the town and plantations, and more heavily armed. Many lives were lost each year in this area.

Camus retracted his gaze and let out a sigh of resignation, like a world-weary middle-aged man. He knew he was powerless to stop the violence. His only hope was to find a way to end the Dream Festival as quickly as possible, so that more people might survive. This was why he had chosen to follow Louis Berry to the black ancient tomb.

If Camus were alone, the rational choice would be to find a secluded corner and hide until dawn, until the Dream Festival concluded—just like Kolobo planned to do. However, after witnessing Louis Berry’s formidable strength and realizing the adventurer was willing to take the risk of approaching the black ancient tomb, Camus felt compelled to take action himself.

Lumian gazed ahead, trailing Amandina’s light footsteps as she turned onto a narrow path threading into the forest. He harbored no illusions about single-handedly putting an end to the Dream Festival. His objectives for this mission had always been clear: Find the gold Hisoka had obtained, along with the item he had procured from the Nois family’s Demon. Uncover what the key April Fool’s member was scheming, to prevent Hisoka’s legacy from materializing.

This was both the duty of a Tarot Club Minor Arcana card holder, and a reflection of Lumian’s wariness towards Hisoka. After discovering the dream projection Hisoka had left behind, Lumian feared his adversary might exploit pre-arranged measures and the dream projection to resurrect himself to some degree during the Dream Festival, returning to the real world as a Wraith or evil spirit.

He was determined not to give Hisoka that chance.

After hearing Padre Cali’s confession, Lumian’s suspicions only intensified.

Hisoka returned to Tizamo each year to participate in the Dream Festival. He required no other host, and this unique dream usually proceeded without any abnormalities. It didn’t appear that anyone needed to constantly monitor it.

It was important to note that prior to the fire that wiped out Hisoka’s family, the special dream had existed for innumerable years. The Dream Festival had taken place countless times, yet no one had detected anything amiss. Under such conditions, the more individuals who knew the truth, the greater the danger of the information leaking out. Nevertheless, Hisoka still enticed Padre Cali and guided him to the black ancient tomb to acquire Beyonder powers.

This anomalous conduct led Lumian to surmise that Hisoka Twanaku had enlisted Padre Cali’s aid in monitoring the dream to verify the status of his dream projection.

The dream projection would gradually dissipate as Hisoka departed Tizamo, ultimately vanishing altogether. If Hisoka desired its continued existence, he would need to return for a time after it had faded to a certain point. Given that the dreams surrounding the black boulder were typically in a state of disarray, the rate at which the dream projection dissipated might be erratic. This necessitated daily monitoring. As soon as the situation was deemed to have deteriorated, an urgent telegram would be dispatched to summon Hisoka back.

Naturally, as a Devil, Hisoka would never divulge his true intentions to Padre Cali. He would undoubtedly be on guard against Padre Cali exploiting the dream projection to eliminate this lurking threat. When instructing Padre Cali on what needed to be done, there was a high probability Hisoka was really having him monitor the shifting dynamics within the dream.

How could Padre Cali keep tabs on the evolving dream? Through the dream projections and the condition of the gravekeepers beside the black ancient tomb!

Regrettably, Lumian couldn’t enter the dream himself. He could only entrust Amandina with questioning Padre Cali. The intelligence gleaned was superficial, not delving into the crux of the matter. It could merely aid in analysis.

If he had interrogated Padre Cali directly, he would have been able to roughly ascertain Hisoka’s objective, rather than just harboring suspicions.

At present, the leads concerning the gold and the Demon’s gift both pointed to the black ancient tomb. Lumian naturally had to investigate and do what he could. If the challenge truly proved insurmountable, he would decisively retreat to Tizamo and conceal himself on the third or fourth floor of the Brieu Motel, allowing the “danger” to confront Ludwig, whose appetite had grown voracious.

Amandina guided Lumian and the others through the rainforest, drawing near to the boundary of the dream.

Abruptly, Lumian raised his right hand and whispered, “Stop.”

He sniffed the air, detecting the unmistakable scent of blood.

With a Reaper’s keen sense of smell and meticulous nature, Lumian could discern that the blood didn’t originate from jungle animals hunting each other. It was human blood, rich in spirituality.

“What’s wrong?” Amandina asked, taken aback, as if recalling her first venture into this forest with Robert.

Camus quickly sensed the problem and pointed in the direction of the blood’s scent.

“Something’s not right over there.”

Insects were gathering in that area.

Although Lumian was eager to reach the black ancient tomb to thwart Hisoka’s plan, he knew that the more impatient he felt, the more cautious he needed to be. He had to remain vigilant of any abnormalities along the way to avoid walking into someone’s trap or missing crucial information and rashly starting a conflict.

Aurore had once mentioned that Emperor Roselle might have said that haste makes waste.

Lumian walked towards the source of the blood’s scent at a measured pace.

As he drew closer, he caught a whiff of the pungent odor of blood mingled with decay.

The latter originated from the tranquil essential oil used to repel mosquitoes.

Lumian circled a few more trees crawling with poisonous insects and saw a corpse lying face-up on the humus soil.

The corpse’s eyes were wide open, and its black hair was disheveled. Its face was smeared with white paint. It was Maslow, the captain of the Tizamo patrol team!

At the beginning of the Dream Festival, Maslow, who had “disappeared” behind Lumian, had reappeared in the forest as a corpse!

“Maslow!” Camus and Rhea exclaimed in surprise.

Before they could fully process their grief, Lumian’s gaze shifted downward as he examined Maslow’s cause of death.

The captain of the local patrol team had deep wounds on his chest and abdomen, as if he had been attacked by spears, triangular blades, and other weapons, but the edges showed signs of tearing.

Large amounts of blood had already flowed into the ground, attracting lingering mosquitoes. There were obvious signs of decay on Maslow’s body, and a yellowish-green liquid seeped out, as if he had been dead for two to three days.

After ascertaining the situation on the corpse’s surface and examining the surrounding battle traces, Camus said in a somber voice, “Attacked by the power of the Death domain…”

Death domain? The image of a cold, middle-aged man in a thin suit suddenly surfaced in Lumian’s mind.

Reaza, the vice-captain of Port Pylos’s patrol team!

He was a Mid-Sequence Beyonder of the Death pathway!

At the beginning of the Dream Festival, Reaza had “disappeared” along with Maslow.

Camus glanced at Rhea, who wore a pained expression, and hesitantly said, “They were affected by the Dream Festival and lost control of themselves. They attacked each other. One died, and the other escaped?”

This was the most plausible conjecture for the Dream Festival.

Lumian imagined a similar scene, but he frowned in confusion and said, “Why are they in the jungle?”

Shouldn’t they appear where they were in the real world?

In reality, Reaza and Maslow had already returned to Tizamo with me…

Did something lure them into the forest?

As the only member of the Port Pylos patrol team supporting Tizamo, Reaza had known from the beginning that something was amiss here. Was the true target the black ancient tomb?

Lumian looked at Camus and Rhea thoughtfully and casually asked, “Were Maslow and Reaza on good terms?”

“Excellent terms,” Camus replied with a sigh. “Captain Reaza recruited Maslow into the patrol team and provided him with extensive guidance.”

Lumian fell silent for a moment before saying to Amandina and the others, “Let’s continue forward.”

Rhea and Camus seized the moment to gather some branches to cover Maslow’s corpse. Then, they quickly followed the team.

After walking along the forest path for a while, Amandina suddenly slowed her pace and pressed her hand to the side of her head.

“What’s wrong?” Lumian asked keenly.

Amandina frowned and said, “My head feels a bit heavy, and I’m experiencing hallucinations.”

“What kind of hallucinations?” Lumian raised his eyebrows.

Amandina replied in puzzlement, “I saw the black boulder I touched previously—no, the black ancient tomb. It felt like I had returned to the past. Do you understand? The past appeared in my mind in the form of an illusion, in front of my eyes, beside my ears.”

Lumian pondered for a moment before saying, preempting Camus, “Let’s go a little further and see what happens.”

The hallucinations didn’t incite Amandina’s desire to retreat. With an experimental mindset, she followed the familiar jungle path for another few dozen meters.

“How is it?” Lumian, who was beside her, inquired.

Amandina organized her thoughts and said, “The hallucinations are becoming clearer and more pronounced.”

“The closer you get to the black ancient tomb, the stronger the hallucinations become?” Lumian suggested a possibility before asking, “Did anything similar happen to Robert when he brought you here last time?”

“No,” Amandina replied with certainty. “He was quite normal the entire time.”

Camus speculated, “Perhaps he had already grown accustomed to the hallucinations after approaching more than once.”

“Who knows…” Amandina muttered and looked at Louis Berry. “What should we do now?”

It’s not a big deal if it’s just hallucinations… Lumian pondered for a moment and said, “Let’s continue forward.”

“Alright.” Amandina wasn’t sure what the hallucinations represented. She endured the discomfort and said, “We’ll reach the ancient tomb in a few minutes.”

She continued forward.

As they walked, Amandina suddenly extended her right hand and pressed it against the forest trees beside her, bending her back.

Without waiting for Lumian to inquire, she recounted the changes in the hallucination and spoke intermittently, “I see myself… after touching the ancient tomb last time… I didn’t… I didn’t fall asleep immediately… I… I was still awake!”

“I… I see… someone ahead!”

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