Sequences and Potions

Lumian entered the Old Tavern and was surprised to find that the woman was already up, enjoying breakfast at her usual corner table. She had changed into another outfit. A brown dress with a ruffled stand-up collar, paired with a dark velvet hat resting beside her, made her look as though she had just returned from a high-society salon. "So early?" Lumian composed himself and walked over. The lady looked up, glancing at him. "Is there any possibility that I didn't sleep at all last night?" "Perhaps." Lumian was certainly no stranger to this sort of thing; after all, his sister Aurore often stayed up all night when a submission deadline approached. He only wondered why this mysterious lady of unknown origin and motives would suddenly bring it up. He glanced at her "dining table" and noticed what was laid out: a cream soufflé garnished with a few nuts, a tantalizingly baked muffin, a croissant, a cup of dark coffee, and a cat tongue biscuit. *Quite an appetite... But these things really don't seem like something Cordu could provide. Aside from Aurore, perhaps only the chef in the magistrate's household could make them...* Lumian sat down and remarked casually, "All pastries?" The lady nodded with uncharacteristic seriousness. "Intis desserts are indeed delicious, and there's a vast variety. Even if you have some for breakfast every day, you could go a whole month without repeating." With that, she took a bite of the cat tongue biscuit, half-closed her eyes, and savored it for a moment before saying, "This is one of the true meanings of travel." "You're not from Intis?" Lumian seized the opportunity to ask. The lady smiled faintly. "I'm from Loen, but given the current situation, that doesn't matter." *That Loen, which has nothing worthy of being called a local specialty other than steam machinery, factory enterprises, massive armies, and easy chairs, mint sauce, fried fish and potatoes, and cider?* As a true Intisian, Lumian immediately recalled the jibes people commonly aimed at the Loen Kingdom. He gave an "Mm" and switched topics. "I took care of the monster carrying the hunting rifle." The lady took a sip of coffee and praised him rather flatly, "Not bad." For some reason, Lumian always felt there was a peculiar emotion in her eyes. During their previous interactions, he had actually felt something similar—beyond amusement and mockery, there seemed to be a hidden emotion lurking underneath, though he couldn't distinguish what it actually represented. He continued, "I obtained an abnormal crimson mass from that monster. Holding it made me irritable and full of hostility. "I'm sure it's something involving supernatural powers, but it didn't come with me into reality." The lady smiled. "After going in and out so many times, haven't you realized that aside from your own state, nothing else can be brought over?" "Didn't you say supernatural things were an exception..." Lumian stopped before finishing his sentence. He thought of the current soreness in his body, the injuries he had suffered in the dream, and how the corresponding memories hadn't vanished upon returning to reality. After thinking it over for a while, he chose his words carefully and said, "You mean that by using that crimson mass to obtain supernatural powers and turning myself into a Beyonder, the corresponding state—one distinct from that of a normal person—can be brought into reality?" "Smart enough." The lady didn't even look up, continuing to enjoy her cream soufflé. "But won't the corresponding power be weakened because of that?" Lumian frowned and pressed on. "The injuries I suffered in the dream are much milder here in reality." "State changes brought about by a Beyonder characteristic won't be," the lady said, lifting her head to look at Lumian. "That's why I said supernatural things are an exception." "Beyonder characteristic..." Lumian chewed on the term. He thought of the "Beyonders" his sister had mentioned. *Acquiring a Beyonder characteristic makes one a Beyonder?* Lumian understood to some degree. And based on the lady's explanation, he had further conjectures about the dream's peculiarities: *Are those ruins actually real, or did they originally exist somewhere in reality before plummeting into the depths of some great figure's dream, which is why it has been developing naturally ever since? And is my dream essentially a special passage—one produced under the influence of the symbols on my chest—that connects to those ruins?* *According to this hypothesis, my home appearing there is equivalent to an imprint left by my dream during our interaction, a projection of what my subconscious considers the safest place. That's why it doesn't belong with the surrounding wilderness and ruins, as if it exists in an entirely different world...* *The monsters don't dare enter because they genuinely can't. They reside within the real ruins, while my 'home' is the product of the blending of dream and 'reality.' Anyone without that special imprint cannot cross the barrier...* *That special imprint only acts upon me. The state I possess is recorded and brought back to reality. In doing so, anything not involving supernatural factors decays, while things that do remain unchanged. Death should be the same...* *If that's truly the case, then there shouldn't be anything terrifying hiding inside my home in the dream. But the origin of these symbols on my chest and the source of that horrifying voice represent a terror of their own...* Lumian fell silent for a good while, while the lady across from him leisurely ate her breakfast, completely unbothered. Gathering his thoughts, Lumian asked, "Then how do I use that crimson mass? Is it the Beyonder characteristic you mentioned?" At this crucial moment, he couldn't help but use a respectful tone. The lady put down her coffee and looked at him. "I can give you a potion formula. You just need to follow it." Such a generous gift made Lumian somewhat uneasy. "Why are you helping me like this?" The lady let out a chuckle. "If I said it was the arrangement of fate, would you believe me?" *No...* Lumian answered reflexively in his mind. The anomalies in the village, the gathering pressure of an impending storm, and his yearning for supernatural powers suppressed his inner unease. In a low, steady voice, he said, "I believe you." Once an opportunity presented itself, he had to seize it with absolute decisiveness and do everything to grasp it—without the slightest hesitation or second-guessing! The lady smiled, and that unspeakable, enigmatic emotion in her eyes seemed to deepen slightly. She drew a pad of memo paper and a round-bellied fountain pen with a silver casing from her black handbag and began scribbling swiftly. Before long, she stopped writing, tore off the top sheet, and handed it to Lumian. Lumian took it hastily and scanned it quickly: "'Hunter' Potion Formula: "Main Ingredient: One 'Hunter' Beyonder characteristic; "Supplementary Ingredients: 80 milliliters of red wine, one red chestnut flower (can be a specimen, or substituted with 10 drops of the corresponding essential oil), 5 grams of poplar leaf powder, 10 grams of basil; "Method of Consumption: Drink directly." Lumian committed the details firmly to memory, then folded the note and placed it into the inner pocket of his brown jacket. Only after doing all this did he ask out of curiosity, "What does 'Hunter' mean?" *A hunter in the supernatural sense?* "It's the name of the corresponding Sequence." The lady took another sip of coffee. "I know you know almost nothing about mysticism, so let me give you a brief explanation. The common supernatural powers in our world are divided into twenty-two pathways. They are obtained by acquiring materials containing the corresponding Beyonder characteristics to concoct potions. Each pathway has ten Sequences, from Sequence 9 to Sequence 0. The smaller the number, the higher the status and the stronger the ability. "The Beyonder characteristic you obtained belongs to the 'Red Priest' pathway and can only be used to concoct the corresponding Sequence 9, 'Hunter.'" Lumian listened with rapt attention and blurted out, "Then which pathway and Sequence does my sister, Aurore, belong to?" "She is a Sequence 7 'Sorcerer' of the 'Mystery Pryer' pathway," the lady replied nonchalantly. She made no mention of how she knew. *Aurore is already Sequence 7? Makes sense, she's had supernatural powers for several years now... Even after consuming the potion, I'll only be a Sequence 9. There's still quite a gap between us... I just hope I won't hold her back when we escape Cordu later...* Lumian couldn't help asking, "Can someone drink a high-Sequence potion directly? Or drink Sequence 9 today and Sequence 8 tomorrow?" "Theoretically, yes." Only after Lumian's face lit up with delight did the lady add, "However, the vast majority of people who do so end up dead or as monsters. Not even one in ten million might succeed." "Turn into monsters?" Lumian was startled. The lady chuckled. "Hasn't your sister told you that the path of the supernatural is fraught with danger? "After drinking a potion, if you fail to master that power, you will either die from bodily collapse or mutate into a monster. Why do you think the one you encountered was humanoid?" *No wonder...* Lumian finally understood what kind of danger his sister had spoken of. Yet he was willing to face it. "Is there no way to reduce this danger?" he asked. The lady looked at him for two seconds and said, "There are: a steadfast will, good physical condition, and luck that isn't too terrible. As for the rest, you don't need to know yet, because you're only taking your first potion." "Good physical condition..." Lumian, who had originally planned to head back, catch up on sleep, and drink the potion right away, furrowed his brows. In the dream, he was still rather badly injured. The lady across from him gave a slight nod. "No need to rush. Wait until tonight, when the soreness in your body has mostly eased, before going into the dream." "Uh..." Lumian asked thoughtfully, "As long as my body in reality has mostly recovered, the injuries in the dream will fully heal?" After all, his waking body only had some soreness, completely disproportionate to the injuries in the dream! "Yes," the lady confirmed his conjecture. She continued, "There is still plenty of common knowledge concerning potions and the Pathways of the Divine. Once you finish drinking the potion and become a 'Hunter,' I will tell you." *Pathways of the Divine...* Lumian wondered aloud, "Why not explain it now?" The lady gave a chuckle. "If you end up dying from the potion or turning into a monster, wouldn't explaining so much now just be a waste of my time?" "..." Lumian was at a loss for words. He stood up and took his leave. Before taking a step, he asked one more question: "Do you know that anomalies exist in the village?"