Lord of Mysteries 2: Circle of Inevitability - LightNovelsOnl.com
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Chapter 1068 Connection
Petrification did nothing to stop the advancing knowledge; instead, petrification became a part of them, and they surged forward toward Lumian like an army of puppets.
At that moment, a strange thought crossed Lumian's mind.
If I were in Morora, could I use the authority of 0-01 to turn these knowledge statues into my soldiers and then redirect their a.s.sault on Seids, the Moses Ascetic Order's bra.s.s holding the Grade 0 Sealed Artifact?
Unfortunately, there was no "if."
The knowledge statues collided with Lumian, producing a cracking sound.
Lumian had activated his Mirror Subst.i.tution in advance.
In the next instant, he used Teleportation, outlining his figure mid-air, positioned behind Seids and slightly above the tower.
Despite his fear of the Grade 0 Sealed Artifact, it was being wielded by a person, not the artifact itself wielding the person. This naturally left vulnerabilities to exploit.
For example, Seids' body was blocking the dense b.u.mps and stark black-and-white eyes on the surface of the silver flask, obscuring his view of what was behind him.
Lumian's lake-like eyes quickly locked onto Seids' back, preparing to cast a curse.
Just then, the back of Seids' head, uncovered by a hood, began to writhe with flesh. Black-and-white, emotionless eyes sprouted from the dark gray hair.
The Saint seemed to become one with the silver flask, an extension of its power.
Pop! Pop! Pop! Black-and-white eyes spread across Seids' back, his hair parting and clothes tearing as they all turned to gaze at Lumian.
Lumian froze.
Sequence names and fragments of relevant knowledge surged into his mind all at once: Mystery Pryer, Melee Scholar, Warlock, Scrolls Professor, Constellations Master, Mysticologist, Clairvoyant, Sage, Knowledge Emperor, Hermit, Savant Archaeologist, Black Knight, The Hanged Man, White Angel, The Sun, and more.
It wasn't enough to overwhelm his mind and spirit, but it did disrupt his thoughts, making them sluggish and chaotic.
The knowledge even vaguely coalesced into a scene with an ancient, worn stone slate.
Lumian's consciousness grew foggy.
Simultaneously, from within the silver flask, covered with eyes and b.u.mps, streams of blazing, golden, pure sunlight poured forth.
They illuminated the palace rooftop area, lifting a miniature, fiercely burning sun.
That "sun" expanded rapidly, purifying and igniting everything around it.
Mystical Re-enactment!
Lumian, riddled with countless issues, was immediately engulfed in searing pain, as though his skin were forcibly peeled away to expose raw flesh beneath. The lingering aura of the Blood Emperor in his palm, the Underworld Daoist's seal, and the black pinhole all activated in response, flaring into prominence.
This brought a sliver of clarity amidst the fog of confusion.
Crack!
He used Mirror Subst.i.tution again. As shards of gla.s.s fell toward the base of the tower, he s.h.i.+fted positions, appearing at the edge of the palace rooftop.
That led deeper into the dark side of Avalon.
But sunlight was everywhere, leaving no shadows behind. Lumian abruptly ignited, golden flames bursting from him.
His body began to melt.
A sudden chill struck him from behind as if a ghostly, sticky shadow clung to his back, coiling around him in layers, trying to invade.
How could there still be shadows in such blazing, pure, holy sunlight? Where is the absence of darkness? What sort of spell is this—both holy and sinister… Lumian, though resilient to flames, feared the purifying force.
He activated the black mark on his right shoulder without hesitation.
Teleport!
He disappeared from his position, instantly reappearing in the next area.
His mission was not to kill or stall Seids or seize the Grade 0 Sealed Artifact. Witnessing the terror of such an artifact, he knew there was no point in lingering—it would only interfere with his main objective.
The reason he had fought Seids earlier was due to his reluctance to advance too quickly, fearing he might stumble into an Angel's battleground, which was likely even more dangerous than staying here. It was better to see if he could handle an opponent wielding a Grade 0 Sealed Artifact.
As he emerged in the next area, he quickly used Mirror Subst.i.tution again, leaving the golden flames and chilling shadow to the mirror image.
Glancing back, he saw the golden flames indeed melting the mirror, within which a patch of deep black writhed and struggled.
Both vanished simultaneously.
In the palace rooftop-like area, Seids' entire form seemed amiss; the ma.s.s of black-and-white eyes on his back did not retract quickly.
He strained to pursue the Demoness of Unaging holding Destined Madness.
Suddenly, from the entrance of the dark side of Avalon, a thick mist of pale steam flowed into the area, coalescing mid-air into a figure.
This figure was clad in a monk's gray robe, wearing an ap.r.o.n like that of ancient stonemasons, with chestnut hair, blue eyes, a handsome, youthful face, and a tall, slender build.
…
Under the influence of various spells, broken stone pillars were either completely shattered, collapsed entirely, sprouted eyes, or became a part of knowledge, bearing no resemblance to their original form.
Using the Ugly Duckling magic to reveal an incomplete Mythical Creature form, The Hermit Cattleya was held in a crus.h.i.+ng grip by Retia, now a magenta dragon.
Her attacks, her magic, all became ineffective once absorbed into Retia's informatized body.
Ten seconds had pa.s.sed, and the effects of the Ugly Duckling magic were nearing their end.
Cattleya, unwavering and resolute, prepared to cast Ugly Duckling for the second and final time, according to plan.
Only by relying on the incomplete Mythical Creature form could she hold her ground against Retia!
At that moment, streams of transparent, intangible information cascaded into the area, reforming into the figure of Queen Mystic Bernadette, with chestnut hair, straight brows, and eyes as deep as the ocean.
…
In a boundless wilderness, translucent, ethereal information coalesced into the figure of Torriope, Chairman of the Moses Ascetic Order.
He had evaded Madam Magician's first round of multi-directional attacks using informatization to dodge from various directions with diverse abilities.
Now reformed, Torriope still wore his hood, but his upper body was bare.
His torso no longer appeared human, resembling a fusion of five or six things:
There was a menacing wolf's head with black fur, a blazing throne of fire, a pale face with strange eyes, a writhing ma.s.s of maggots, and multiple asymmetrical black symbols…
These were the Mystical Re-enactment spells Torriope had added to His information body over the years, making them truly a part of Him.
In this form, the corresponding magic would immediately trigger and strike any target.
As for the Loss of Control Gaze spell, Torriope deemed it too dangerous and hadn't fully deciphered its secrets. He feared adding it would destabilize the overall information structure, resulting in a loss of control.
Clang!
Just as Torriope completed His reformation, preparing to unleash numerous spells simultaneously, an ancient, ethereal chime echoed, and he glimpsed a ma.s.sive, weathered bell in shades of blackish-green and gray-white.
For an instant, He was dazed, but then He quickly cast the five or six spells all at once.
They missed every target and had no impact on any life form.
Madam Magician had vanished from the wilderness.
A pulse of information flickered in the corner of Torriope's brow.
His emotions became slightly unstable.
He knew his enemy would be back any moment!
Striking, but never hitting; fleeing, but never escaping!
Then, Torriope saw the ground deep within the wilderness silently cave in.
A vast pit opened, leading to a hazy, misty, obscure place.
Torriope's spirits lifted again, His mood brightening.
The great Hidden Sage had finally responded!
That hazy, foggy area was actually a hidden escape route, granted by the Hidden Sage when Torriope had established Avalon.
Once He escaped through there, His enemies would be unable to track or locate Him.
Based on the Hidden Sage's namesake, He naturally wielded powers of concealment!
That was also why He was still alive from the Fourth Epoch to the present.
Joyfully, Torriope dissolved into a flood of information again, rus.h.i.+ng toward the large, collapsed pit.
Madam Magician reappeared in the skies above the wilderness.
…
On the Blue Avenger, Franca handed out three pieces of yellow paper, covered with fine patterns, tiny writing, and strange symbols, to Professor, Periodic Table, and Prototype.
"Burn them by rubbing them with your spirituality," Franca instructed solemnly.
Taking the yellow paper, Prototype quickly glanced over it, noting a resemblance to, yet significant difference from, the entries in Roselle's Diary.
He faintly discerned two characters: "Celestial Master."
Wh— Professor and the others hesitated for a second before setting their yellow papers aflame.
The blue smoke from the burning paper didn't dissipate but instead coalesced into a column, rising into the gray-white mist above.
In the next second, Professor and the others seemed to see a wilderness filled with countless figures wandering and screaming. The knowledge pursuing them surged, becoming fiercer.
They once again experienced the intense agony of the Hidden Sage's relentless indoctrination.
Then, a hazy silhouette began to emerge before them.
The figure sat cross-legged, his face as smooth as jade, dressed in a blue robe with a high crown atop his head.
He held something known as a "whisk."
…
In an unknown, mysterious realm.
A light composed of complex information concealed itself and the surrounding area.
It was none other than the Hidden Sage, who had foreseen the danger.
Suddenly, He trembled violently, His form twisting like a ma.s.sive serpent pierced by an unseen force.
He had predicted the danger, but He hadn't foreseen that it would come from the wilderness!
Enduring the pain, He attempted to sever the connection, hoping to conceal this part of His information.
At that moment, a figure clad in a black trench coat followed the trace of the connection, descending from above and landing in front of Him, at the edge of the unknown land.
The figure used his right hand, gloved in black, to press down on the half-height silk top hat atop his head, gradually straightening his posture.