Lord of Mysteries 2: Circle of Inevitability Chapter 825 The Final Seduction

825 The Final Seduction

825 The Final Seduction

The Hermit followed the vibrant thread of yarn through the dark tunnel in her pumpkin carriage.

She didn’t know how long she had been descending when she arrived at a naturally formed cave.

The vibrant yarn ball had stopped here.

The swarm of mice and the pumpkin carriage vanished, and The Hermit floated down, her feet touching the ground.

She didn’t need to remove her gla.s.ses to see the pools of pus-like blood on the ground, eroding the soil in the extreme darkness.

For a moment, The Hermit seemed to see a scene from the past: A blurry figure staggered towards the cave, each step leaving a splatter of pus-like blood that sizzled as it corroded the rocks and soil.

The Hermit weaved through the pools of blood and entered the cave, but it was empty. The trail of pus-like blood ended abruptly.

It was as if the figure had exhausted all its flesh and blood, leaving no trace, or had evaporated entirely.

He had vanished.

Has Kmerolo disappeared like this… The Hermit immediately conjured nine blazing suns.

The intense heat caused the pools of blood to show signs of evaporation.

Then, the Major Arcana cardholder removed her gla.s.ses.

The pus-like blood changed immediately.

It wasn’t blood but dense, intertwined, complex symbols or letters.

These symbols or letters were grouped together, eroding various rocks and soil, bright red and dazzling.

Even with her knowledge of mysticism, The Hermit couldn’t identify what they represented.

Kmerolo’s flesh and blood transformed into this? The Hermit pondered for a moment and decided to strip away all the b.l.o.o.d.y symbols and letters and take them to a high-ranking Cryptologist.

…

Morora, Carnivore bar, second floor.

Lumian had another nightmare, but this time, he was clearly aware that he was dreaming.

He dreamed of walking through a dark, lightless tunnel, with stone slabs beneath his feet and bricks in the walls, with rusty iron wall lamps every so often, none of them lit.

Lumian wandered aimlessly, sometimes turning right, sometimes descending stairs, and sometimes resting against the wall.

Suddenly, he saw yellowish light ahead.

In the glow, figures in black robes appeared, carrying quietly burning lanterns, their eyes covered with thick black cloth.

Law enforcement… Experimental subjects… Lumian instantly understood.

Am I dreaming of the mausoleum?

This matches the sealing information of 0-01 and the books’ descriptions…

Using my knowledge and the corruption I’ve suffered, did I recreate a tunnel of the mausoleum in my dream?

The experimental subjects, despite being blindfolded, walked steadily, maintaining a straight line forward.

I don’t seem to be blindfolded… Will something abnormal happen? No, I’m just dreaming… Although lucid dreaming, Lumian’s thoughts were sluggish, seemingly influenced by the dream.

As he was about to pa.s.s by the experimental subjects with lanterns, his gaze naturally fell on one of the lanterns.

The lantern’s gla.s.s case, framed in bronze, reflected a black shadow.

The shadow, human-like in shape, flickered and leaped to another lantern.

That shadow isn’t mine… nor the lantern-bearer’s… It’s… it’s one of those Mirror People corrupted by the mausoleum’s power? Or perhaps the Mirror Person that infiltrated Morora? Lumian shivered, feeling more awake than ever.

He focused his gaze and saw the slightly distorted, human-like black shadow pause and look back at him from the lantern’s gla.s.s, illuminated by firelight.

As their eyes met, the shadow vanished instantly.

Lumian’s vision wavered, the entire tunnel, lit by the lanterns, shaking violently.

Within seconds, Lumian woke up, his eyes snapping open.

The shaking continued, and his bed creaked while the house clattered.

An earthquake? Lumian judged calmly.

In Morora, he had already experienced four earthquakes, one volcanic eruption, five torrential rains, four hurricanes, three tornadoes, two hailstorms, and two snowstorms… Often, more than one extreme weather event occurred in a single day, though sometimes it was just ordinary weather fluctuations.

Based on his physical a.s.sessment and experience, Lumian judged that this earthquake wouldn’t collapse the st.u.r.dy Carnivore bar building, so he lay there calmly, with no intention of getting out of bed and escaping to the street.

If worse came to worst, he could still teleport to the Knowledge Cathedral.

Staring at the still-swaying ceiling, Lumian recalled the nightmare: Was I woken up by the earthquake, or did my nightmare trigger the earthquake?

After pondering for a while, Lumian believed it was the latter.

But this meant his nightmare had truly connected to the underground mausoleum!

Earlier, was I wandering through the mausoleum in some peculiar form, not needing to be blindfolded or carry a lantern?

Was everything I saw and experienced real, actually happening in real time?

Was the Mirror Person on the lantern real too?

Right, that didn’t look like the lantern-bearer’s Mirror Person, their physical condition was noticeably different.

Could it be the Mirror Person from Trier? Did he use the special power of the mirror world to start exploring the mausoleum before Albus, Julie, and I?

If so, he may have been at it for many days, and might be close to succeeding…

When he saw me, did he see what I look like, my state, my form?

Yes, if one enters the mausoleum without being blindfolded, the experimental subjects will see the corresponding Mirror Person in their own eyes and be replaced?

A series of questions flashed through Lumian’s mind, creating a sense of urgency.

He sat up and looked towards the window.

The earthquake had already subsided, and outside the not-so-thick curtains, the sky seemed to be getting slightly brighter.

Lumian sighed, suppressing his negative emotions, and decided to sleep a bit more, until six in the morning.

He needed to be in his best condition to complete the remaining three days of study, otherwise, he might lose control or even die from it.

After waking up naturally, Lumian had breakfast prepared by Lez and then went directly to the Knowledge Cathedral, sitting in his usual spot, reading and monitoring the entrance to the underground mausoleum.

This way, if there was an anomaly, he could teleport there immediately and enter the underground.

After alternating between thunderstorms and clear skies, Lumian finished his morning studies and headed back to the Carnivore bar for lunch.

About a third of the way back, he heard a painful yet slightly pleasurable scream from the direction of the bar.

Is Julie at it again? She wasn’t in a bad or good mood today…

And it’s the bar’s busy time… Did someone bother her? Lumian shook his head, thinking Julie was quite unprofessional.

Soon, he returned to the Carnivore bar and found the area in front of the bar and inside the hall empty, with tables and chairs overturned, broken gla.s.ses scattered, and spilled liquor on the floor, some of it already frozen.

It looks like Julie went berserk, attacked all the patrons, and drove them away… What happened? Lumian became highly alert.

As the owner of the Carnivore bar, he felt both distressed over the wasted liquor and keenly aware of the unusual situation.

He remembered that Julie had seemed fine when he left in the morning, even proactively helping Lez prepare the ingredients for the day.

Lumian sniffed the air, detecting a faint smell of blood and a hint of something resembling chestnut flowers.

To most men, the latter scent was very familiar.

Something’s off. Based on my observations, Julie usually finishes her collection before the target reaches the peak of pleasure. This time, the scent is quite noticeable… Did she let the original owner of the collection enjoy themselves? Lumian frowned and followed the smell of blood upstairs, pushing open Julie’s door.

On Julie’s bed lay Lez, naked, eyes wide open, mouth half-puffed, with his legs a b.l.o.o.d.y mess.

He was dead.

Julie attacked Lez? Lumian looked into Lez’s eyes, seeing extreme pleasure, relaxation, and evident pain, with no signs of a supernatural battle in the room, only splattered blood and a few sources of the chestnut flower scent telling the story.

This made Lumian suspect that Lez had willingly gone to bed with Julie.

And this culinary artist knew well what Julie would do.

Similarly, Julie’s behavior was different this time, seemingly allowing Lez to complete his climax.

Did Lez seek liberation? Or did he make a preemptive move and fail?

Lumian wasn’t shocked by this but found it too sudden.

Lumian’s gaze fell on the lifeless bloodstain at Lez’s mouth.

After a few seconds, he suddenly recalled something Julie had once said to Lez: “I’ve decided to seduce you last.”

Last… Lumian’s eyes narrowed sharply.

To Julie, now was the final moment?

Was she about to take her last action?

Where had she gone now?