Lord of Mysteries 2: Circle of Inevitability - Chapter 778

778 Method of Arrival

….
Lumian had already looked through the information Franca had gathered and could guess her reasoning for this choice: Howl Constantine-Admiral Deep Sea-with rumored sea monster blood, often went to an island called “Banamo” west of the Fog Sea for supplies. A few days ago, someone spotted Howl Constantine’s flagship, the Newins, surfacing on a route to Banamo, allowing the crew to breathe fresh air and enjoy their precious freedom.

Based on the distance, speed, route conditions, and weather in the Fog Sea, it was estimated that the Newins would reach Banamo in about two to three days.

Among all the Pirate Admirals, he was the only one with a predictable trajectory in the near future!

“We can give it a try,” Lumian responded nonchalantly to Franca’s suggestion.

Having participated in battles at the demigod level and played a significant role, he felt that which Pirate Admiral they targeted didn’t matter much as long as they could locate him.

Franca glanced at Lumian and mumbled, “I think there’s something wrong with your attitude. You can’t underestimate the best of the Sequence 5s. You’re not a demigod yet, and your body is still fragile.

Underestimating Admiral Deep Sea could cost you dearly. There’s a saying from my homeland: Strategically, you can underestimate your enemy, but tactically, you must respect them.”

“I know. Aurore used to remind me of that, telling me not to underestimate the villagers’ intelligence and think my pranks would always succeed without problems. After being chased by them a few times, I understood it well.” Lumian said earnestly, “Your homeland also has another saying: Weakness and ignorance aren’t barriers to survival, but arrogance is.”

“Stop!” Franca grumbled. “As long as you know it; don’t turn this into an exchange of famous sayings.”

Seeing they had decided on the target, Jenna spoke up, “The problem now is, how do we get to Banamo Island?”

Banamo, located in the northwest of the Fog Sea, was once a Feysac Empire colony. Later, as the Feysac Empire declined and the natives of Banamo resisted actively, the island gained independence.

It helped that Banamo lacked valuable resources and was only a base for exploring the Fog Sea’s end. Giving it up wasn’t a big loss.

After gaining independence, Banamo developed into a pirate haven, offering a place for pirates to trade and resupply.

Jenna’s point was clear: Even with clear routes and good weather, it would take two to three weeks to sail from Trier to Banamo. Any issues requiring detours or delays could stretch the journey to a month. By then, Admiral Deep Sea would likely have left Banamo, and finding a Pirate Admiral on the open sea would be almost impossible without a stroke of fate.

Given the circumstances, only teleportation could ensure the team reached Banamo in time to wait for Admiral Deep Sea Howl Constantine. However, neither Lumian nor Franca had the spirit world coordinates for Banamo Island, making long-distance teleportation impossible without getting lost in the spirit world.

Lumian thought for a moment and asked Franca, “Can we contact anyone on Banamo Island?”

“We should be able to. There’s a telegraph office on Banamo Island,” Franca answered thoughtfully. “We can ask adventurers who’ve been to Banamo to send a telegram to their friends on the island.”

Lumian chuckled. “Good. If everything goes well, we can arrive at Banamo Island tonight.”

…

Banamo Island in the Fog Sea, shrouded in perennial fog and gloomy weather.

In the island’s only port, Mason, carrying a bundle of items, navigated through the bustling pirates and entered an abandoned warehouse.

The warehouse had been destroyed in a pirate skirmish and never repaired, becoming a desolate spot.

Mason was an adventurer who despised the brutal and ruthless pirates but couldn’t leave Banamo because the pirate haven was full of opportunities.

Even if he didn’t hunt down solitary, bounty-carrying pirates, he could wait for pirate feuds to end and take the remaining goods from the losers.

This was how he became a Beyonder, now a Sequence 8 Pugilist.

(Amonoculus’ note: From the Twilight Giant Pathway)

Today, Mason took on a task supposedly very simple but with a reward of 1,000 verl d’or, seeking a secluded place to complete it.

He quickly cleared the pile of broken wooden crates, stacking them to form an altar.

Following the task description, he placed candles, incense, and essential oils on the altar.

After the preparations, Mason took out the neatly folded task description and read the next steps, “The most challenging part of this task is the necessary knowledge, including basic ancient Hermes and proficient Hermes. If you don’t meet these conditions, don’t take the commission…”

Fortunately, I learned some ancient Hermes and enough Hermes from other adventurers… Mason felt lucky for his past decision when taking this task.

It wasn’t that he was more studious than other adventurers, but the items he had previously acquired involved Hermes. To understand their true value, he had paid an adventurer proficient in Hermes to teach him for a while.

After quickly reading the second half of the task description, Mason assessed the potential dangers and felt confident it wouldn’t be a big problem.

He then arduously created a wall of spirituality, lit the candles, dripped the incense, and took two steps back, chanting in ancient Hermes, “I!”

This was one of the few words he knew in ancient Hermes.

He then switched to Hermes:

“I summon in my name:

“A creature wandering above the world, the penitent who awakens from the flames of pain, a messenger that belongs solely to Lumian Lee…”

As Mason finished, the candle flames surged, turning a deep green, almost black.

In the firelight, a tall figure in a black clergyman’s robe emerged.

Mason took a step back in fear at the sight.

The figure’s exposed parts seemed long scorched by flames, with blackened flesh and skin clinging to the bones. Its eye sockets were dark, burning with deep-colored flames, and its body was oozing a viscous black fluid like water.

It looked like an undead creature!

Mason had seen similar beings in Banamo Port, as some pirates were adept at communicating with corpses. However, the summoned Penitent made Mason instinctively fearful, sensing it was fundamentally different from ordinary undead.

Even the Pirate Admirals who had visited Banamo Port hadn’t given Mason this feeling!

Seeing the dried corpse in a black clergyman’s robe looking at him, Mason shakily handed over the letter.

His task was to deliver a letter to someone named Lumian Lee!

The blackened, burning corpse messenger took the letter and disappeared into the dark-green candlelight.

The abandoned warehouse returned to normal.

Mason wiped his cold sweat and muttered to himself, “This seems more complicated than I thought… I’ve heard of people being lured into special rituals, summoning evil gods or devils, destroying themselves and their towns… Was that what just happened? Is a catastrophe coming to Banamo Port? Is Lumian Lee the true name of an evil god or demon?”

won Mason had previously seen that the ritual only summoned a messenger, unrelated to evil gods or demons. As a Sequence 8 Beyonder, he had taken the risk, but the messenger made him uneasy.

Muttering to himself, Mason cleaned up the items on the altar.

Suddenly, he stopped and frowned.

“I think I’ve heard the name Lumian Lee somewhere before…”

He tried to recall but couldn’t remember.

Before leaving the abandoned warehouse, Mason glanced back at the makeshift altar, seeing shadows shifting within the broken crates.

His heart tightened. Pretending he hadn’t seen anything, Mason quickly left the warehouse.

In Trier, within Quartier de la Cathédrale Commémorative, in the apartment rented by Franca and Jenna.

Lumian saw Penitent Baynfel step out of the void and hand hima letter.

He didn’t even open it, knowing it contained only blank paper.

He asked his messenger, “Can you deliver a reply to the sender?”

“I can,” Penitent Baynfel answered in a low voice.

Lumian smiled and pointed to himself.

“Lam the reply.”

In the foggy Banamo Port, Lumian leaned against the outer wall of the abandoned warehouse, watching the sender walk out with a fearful expression and quickly leave.

He smiled, took a golden straw hat from the Traveler’s Backpack, looked at it for a moment, and put it back.

Having the famous adventurer Louis Berry appear here would arouse unnecessary suspicion and might cause Admiral Deep Sea Howl Constantine to change his destination and avoid Banamo Port.

Lumian straightened up, tightened his thick jacket, and walked slowly along the streets of Banamo Port, his hands in his pockets.

He planned to take a look around before returning to fetch Franca and the others.

Trier, late at night.

Angoulême arrived at the agreed-upon empty house to retrieve emergency contact information from Hidden Blade.

He quickly found the note and read its contents: “In case of emergency, summon my friend’s messenger: “Rabbit-shaped spirit that wanders about the unfounded, a runner who pursues knowledge, a messenger that belongs solely to the Seven of Cups.”

Seven of Cups… From the Tarot Club? Hidden Blade, your friend is you, right? Angoulême muttered to himself.

He felt he understood why Hidden Blade always had so many troublesome matters.