827 Blind Battle

827 Blind Battle

Morora, fifth floor of the Knowledge Cathedral.

A law enforcer in a black robe stood at the window, looking at the entrance to the underground mausoleum, which resembled the mouth of a giant beast.

In his eyes, Lumian’s figure could be seen descending the gray-white stone steps one by one.

Elsewhere in Morora, Albus Medici stood by another window.

However, his gaze was not on the nearby buildings but on the cemetery and Lumian, neither of which could be seen from this street.

Is it starting? the descendant of the Red Angel chuckled.

…

Blindfolded, Lumian moved steadily through the darkness, guided by the mental map in his mind, approaching the location of the Abscessed Hand’s head.

This is the end. I need to turn left… It’s exactly like the diagram in the book… Lumian reached out his right hand, not holding the carbide lamp, and touched something cold and hard.

It was likely a wall.

He then turned left, walked a bit further, and stopped.

He sensed the Abscessed Hand’s head was just a few meters to his right, while the surroundings were eerily silent.

Lumian turned, extending his right hand in that direction, but he only felt an equally cold, hard wall.

Behind the wall? According to the diagram, there should be a room behind here, and the door is about five meters ahead…

Even though he couldn’t see, the importance of knowledge became evident in this situation.

Counting his steps, he reached what should be the door and felt around, finding the wooden board.

He fumbled for the handle, gently twisted it, and pushed open the slightly ajar door.

Meanwhile, he mused internally, Albus casually threw it, and the Hand Bro’s head ended up here?

Even if it bounced around, it shouldn’t have gotten this far…

Even though it’s not very far from the entrance, there were two turns, and the door is even closed.

Did the door close afterward?

Growing more cautious, Lumian listened for any sounds beyond the door.

It was completely silent.

He slowly entered the room, moving towards the corner from which the rotten stench emanated, his connection to the Abscessed Hand growing clearer.

His right hand was ready to draw the Sword of Courage from the Traveler’s Bag at any moment, while his left, holding the carbide lamp, reached for Abscessed Hand’s head.

The head was higher than he expected, placed on a shelf rather than the ground.

Suddenly, his fist brushed against something slimy and damp, which wriggled slightly.

Five cold, finger-like things instantly grabbed Lumian’s left fist.

A chill ran down his spine.

Encountering such a thing while blindfolded was many times more terrifying.

He couldn’t tell what it was!

But he was certain it wasn’t the Abscessed Hand’s head, as that was just a head!

In a flash, Lumian’s left fist ignited with blazing white flames.

His fist moved forward, accelerating suddenly, snapping sharply between the finger-like things.

Boom!

The explosion scattered the slimy fingers, and Lumian used the semi-activated black mark on his right shoulder to teleport behind what he presumed was the Abscessed Hand’s head.

“Hmph!”

Lumian exhaled two beams of white light from his nostrils.

He felt he had hit his target.

Without waiting for his opponent to fall, he swung his left fist, burning with intense flames, while his right hand stayed ready to draw the Sword of Courage.

Bang!

It felt like hitting an elastic, dead wood. He unleashed his accumulated flaming forces.

Boom!

The violent blast pushed the slimy “wood” forward a bit.

Then, there was silence, with no sound of something hitting the ground.

Cautiously, Lumian transformed into a blazing-white spear and charged.

He felt himself piercing through a withered tree filled with rust and flesh, landing in front of the Abscessed Hand’s head amidst a strong, pungent odor.

There was no resistance, no real counterattack.

Is it over? Lumian, still blindfolded, felt uneasy.

He kept his right hand in the Traveler’s Bag, holding the carbide lamp’s handle with his mouth, reaching up with his left hand, prepared to use the Spirit World Traversal if needed.

In the still atmosphere, Lumian touched the slimy, foul-smelling, limp flesh and greasy, disgusting “weeds.”

This should be Hand Bro’s hair… No other abnormalities…

Lumian mustered his courage and continued feeling around.

Soon, he touched a decaying neck, then a wounded “shoulder.”

A shoulder… Despite being mentally prepared, Lumian was still startled.

The Abscessed Hand’s head couldn’t have grown a body, right?

After waiting a few seconds with no sudden attack, Lumian grabbed the greasy “weeds” that were likely the hair and pulled.

As he applied force, there was a reluctant, cork-popping “plop” sound.

His center of gravity wavered as if he had pulled something free.

He had torn off the head!

Almost simultaneously, Lumian sensed the Abscessed Hand’s body parts inside the Traveler’s Bag moving, but they couldn’t breach the spatial barrier, only wriggling closer, pushing away other items.

This is Hand Bro’s head… Then who tried to ‘shake hands’ with me? Scenes flashed through Lumian’s mind: A head dragging a bloody spine flying through the air, a headless body chasing it…

In the mausoleum sealing 0-01, there must be similar headless bodies, and one of them took Hand Bro’s head, attaching it to its neck? No wonder Albus’s casual toss brought Hand Bro’s head all the way here… Lumian quickly guessed, finding the situation both amusing and horrifying.

If the headless body and the Abscessed Hand’s head stayed together for months, something terrifying might happen…

Lumian didn’t dare put the head in the Traveler’s Bag, which would inevitably cause the body parts to reunite, summoning the Abscessed Hand. He wanted to wait until he encountered Julie, Celeste, Albus, or Wanak.

Holding the head and the lamp, Lumian prepared to leave the room.

Suddenly, Lumian felt something and flinched his right shoulder.

He sensed that something was trying to pat him.

But when he moved away, everything returned to normal, silent and still.

Lumian’s body ignited with blazing-white flames that expanded outward in a spherical shape, pushing in all directions.

The flames only ignited the object that had originally held the Abscessed Hand’s head.

Unable to see, Lumian didn’t dwell on what had tried to pat his shoulder. Recalling the earlier battle, he quickly determined his position and direction.

Then, he walked steadily back to the door and exited, acting as if he could see every detail around him.

Finally obtaining the Abscessed Hand’s head gave Lumian a bit of confidence. Using the mental map he had formed, he made his way to the lowest level of the underground mausoleum, filled with puppet soldiers.

Blindfolded with layers of white bandages, he occasionally turned right, walked forward, descended stairs, and fumbled to open heavy or simple doors.

He didn’t forget to activate the brass amulet in ancient Hermes, listening with one ear and monitoring his surroundings with the other.

As he walked, Lumian suddenly conjured a flame in his right palm and flung it ahead, forming a burning straight sword.

It seemed to hit something, but it could have just been an illusion.

Lumian didn’t maintain the flaming sword, letting it extinguish.

He didn’t investigate whether he had encountered something real or if it was just a reaction from his tense, sightless state.

Though his knowledge didn’t explicitly cover it, his past experiences hinted at a key point: In the underground mausoleum, if you believe something is real, it likely becomes real! As long as it doesn’t pose a direct threat, it’s best to ignore potential dangers!

After descending another staircase, Lumian suddenly felt like he was being watched by numerous eyes.

At that moment, he had the urge to tear off his bandages and see what was happening.

Plop! A cold drop of liquid fell on the back of his left hand.

It felt sticky, but there was no smell of blood.

Plop, plop, plop! The cold “droplets” increased, falling faster and faster, like a sudden downpour.

Inside the mausoleum, 20 to 30 meters underground, it started to “rain.”

What the hell is going on? What’s around me… The book only mentioned a hall here, straight ahead to the exit, but it didn’t provide a detailed layout or mention anything special inside…

Lumian endured the soaking “rain” and, under countless watching eyes, stepped forward with his right foot.

Thud!

A drumbeat suddenly sounded, as if striking Lumian’s heart, making him feel like he wanted to spit out blood.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

The drumming grew clearer and more intense.

Lumian also faintly heard a soft, scratching chuckle.

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