Undercurrent

After leaving the Old Tavern, Lumian began skulking about once more. He approached his usual route home in this state. As expected, he spotted one of Pons Bénet's henchmen crouched behind trees by the roadside, watching the passersby. The parish priest really wouldn't stop until he achieved his aim... Lumian couldn't help but sigh inwardly. Most importantly, he still couldn't mount an effective counterattack. First, his own abilities were limited; second, if anything happened to the parish priest, it would inevitably alert the Eternal Blazing Sun Church in the Dariège region, and then Inquisition personnel would surely come to investigate—which would be extremely dangerous for Aurore. Unless driven to the point of no return and resolved to abandon this place and move elsewhere, Lumian could at most dig into the parish priest's private life, hoping that exposing a scandal might get him transferred to a monastery to "retire." Moreover, exposing a scandal required finesse, just like when he'd had an outlander catch the parish priest and Madame Pualis in flagrante delicto. The reason Lumian hadn't publicized this widely was that he didn't want to place himself in the spotlight. In his observation, the administrator and territorial judge Beost was a man who cared greatly about his reputation; if he exposed Madame Pualis's affair, he wouldn't earn Beost's gratitude so much as hatred and hostility. That would mean facing a double blow from the parish priest and the administrator, and Lumian would definitely have to flee Cordu Village. He carefully circled around to another lane wedged between several houses. Along the way, Lumian kept using walls, doors, trees, and such to conceal himself, and as he neared the "exit," he suddenly heard voices. "Guillaume, why not just go to Aurore's place at night and grab that kid? Roaming around all day to find and ambush him does absolutely no good; it's a pure waste of time. He's as cunning as a wild wolf in the mountains." Pons Bénet's familiar gruff voice reached Lumian's ears. "I know Aurore is a capable fighter, but we have so many people; we can also go to the city to find helpers." Guillaume... The parish priest was here too... Lumian stopped and shrank into a wall corner, intending to hear how the parish priest would answer and what arrangements he would make regarding Lumian himself. Guillaume Bénet's voice had a touch of magnetism: "You don't think Aurore has only the ability she's shown, do you? "She very likely possesses supernatural powers I don't." "Ah..." Pons Bénet was clearly surprised. "She's a witch? Guillaume, then why not go to the Dariège region and find the Inquisition? If you catch a real witch, the Church will surely reward you, and then you might well gain the supernatural power you've long desired." "Idiot." Guillaume Bénet snapped at his brother. "Don't you know what's going on in the village right now? The Inquisition people have noses like dogs; they won't overlook the slightest abnormality. Then the trouble will be enormous. Even if Aurore really wants to deal with us, I'm not without other options. Don't alert the Inquisition until the last moment." So what exactly was going on in the village now? Lumian treated this as highly important and was curious about it. Combining some abnormal phenomena he'd noticed earlier, he suspected something bad was brewing and developing in the village, like a surging undercurrent beneath a calm sea. To his disappointment, Pons Bénet didn't pursue the topic, focusing instead on another point: "What means do you have to deal with a witch?" "You don't need to know." Parish Priest Guillaume Bénet said in a low voice. "For now, the matter of dealing with Lumian can be set aside, but the outward appearance must still be maintained. No one should suspect my will for revenge, or those few outlanders might associate it with certain matters and produce a bad effect. What you need to do now is go to each relevant person and warn them, frighten those country bumpkins who might have noticed something, and don't let them slip up in front of those few outlanders." "Guillaume, do you mean those few outlanders came to investigate that matter?" Pons Bénet was clearly afraid and worried. Look at you, all muscle and no brains, unlike your brother so calm and composed, a born leader... Lumian mocked Pons Bénet inwardly. Although he loathed the parish priest, thinking the man was practically a stud horse, vulgar and greedy in character, completely unlike a clergyman, in rural places a crude, barbaric, domineering, direct style of action was actually more impressive. Combined with status, power, wealth, a clear head, sufficient wisdom, and decent eloquence, even Lumian had to admit the man had some charm, easily making those around him worship and depend on him. Guillaume Bénet snorted coldly: "Don't worry. As long as those few outlanders can't get real evidence, I'm still Cordu Village's parish priest. Pons, remember this: ruling a place can't rely entirely on deterrence, terror, and suppression. That will never bring peace or achieve the desired effect. Does the Church hope to gain a ruin, a place that can't pay taxes? Since it's impossible to kill all the adults here, we need some friends, some followers, and to that end we can give them a certain protection. The Church lets us manage affairs here instead of sending outsiders because we're locals with relatives, friends, and followers who can help them control this place better and not make a mess. So as long as there isn't sufficient evidence, those above will certainly choose to keep believing me. All right, I'm returning to the church." It did sound reasonable and could be persuasive, but Parish Priest, your knowledge and vision were still limited to the Dariège region... Lumian had heard Aurore say that elsewhere, facing villages severely contaminated by evil gods, the Church chose utter destruction, turning the place into a ruin, where not only all adults but even the children would be killed... Lumian had almost been "persuaded" by Guillaume Bénet just now. Fortunately, Aurore often told him about the horrors of the Eternal Blazing Sun Church and the God of Steam and Machinery Church. After the parish priest left, Lumian changed routes again and smoothly returned home. By the baking oven, Aurore, wearing a white apron, was busy. "What are you doing?" Lumian asked curiously. It was still more than two hours until lunch. Aurore swept her loose golden hair behind her ear, smiling. "Trying a new flavor of toast. Rice toast." "You don't need to go to such trouble..." Lumian was suddenly moved. He thought Aurore was doing it so he could eat better. Aurore giggled. "Where did that thought come from? Don't be so narcissistic, okay? "For me, cooking and baking bread are a form of entertainment, an effective way to pass the time. Understand?" "Then why don't you like going out? There's more entertainment outside." Lumian had always thought Aurore kept herself shut in at home because she cared too much about the danger her sorcerer identity might bring. Aurore turned her head and glared at him. "Drinking and playing cards? Remember: I am the world; I seek nothing without." Lumian understood the first half but was completely lost on the second: "Ah? "Can you explain what that means?" Aurore shot him a glance: "Simply put, your sister here is mostly a social anxiety sufferer!" "What do you mean mostly?" Lumian asked in confusion. "A human being is a composite of contradictions." Aurore turned her gaze back to the oven. "Don't you remember? Sometimes I'm especially talkative, especially willing to go out and listen to the old ladies gossip, then tease the children and tell them stories. Sometimes I go wild, borrow Madame Pualis's pony, and race around the hills, galloping freely, shouting loudly." You at those times, shining like a rose bathed in morning dew, inviting people near yet able to prick them... Lumian couldn't help muttering inwardly. Since Madame Pualis had been mentioned, Lumian changed the subject directly: "Aurore, uh, Sister, I just heard a rumor about Madame Pualis." "What?" Aurore didn't hide her curiosity. "She's a sorcerer who can communicate with the souls of the dead..." Lumian told his sister what Ava had said, as well as the anomalies he'd noticed and the words of Parish Priest Guillaume Bénet. Aurore interrupted her work and listened carefully to her brother's account. Her expression grew noticeably graver. When Lumian finished, Aurore smiled and comforted her brother: "Don't worry too much. Those three outlanders probably came for some private matter of the parish priest and his lot, likely connected to Madame Pualis. Don't provoke Madame Pualis for now. I'll keep an eye on them. Go around the village more, have more contact with those few outlanders, and see if you can figure out what's going on. Heh, compared to that, the lady who gave you the Wands card is more worth our attention. If the situation really is worsening, we'll have to consider leaving Cordu Village. Hmm, we can start preparing now." "All right." Lumian expressed deep approval of his sister's response. Pausing, he asked curiously, "Aurore, if we really have to leave Cordu Village, where do you plan to settle?" "Trier!" Aurore answered without hesitation. Trier was the capital of the Republic of Intis and the center of culture and arts for the entire continent. "Why?" Although Lumian had been thinking of Trier himself, he still asked casually. —Everyone from Intis wants to go to Trier. And in the eyes of Trier folk, Intis consists only of Trier natives and outlanders from other provinces. Aurore said with longing: "A prophet once said: 'As long as Trier remains, joy endures in the world.'" (Note 1: Adapted from Nostradamus, "The Prophecies")