In the Carriage

Compared to a "time loop" or "people turning into sheep," the scene before his eyes was not only just as shocking, but it also left Lumian feeling as if his eyes, heart, and spirit were being severely contaminated. If he had known in advance that he would witness such a thing, he would have chosen to abandon the whole venture. *What in the hell is going on?* *Louis Lund is clearly still a man!* *Whose child was he carrying—the administrator's, or Madame Pualis's?* *Is this the world of mysticism?* *Aurore keeping me away from it really was for my own good...* For a moment, Lumian's thoughts were in disarray and his mind in chaos. He wished he could gouge out his own eyes just to forcibly forget what he had witnessed. "Waaah! Waaah! Waaah!" The infant delivered from Louis Lund let out a wail, instantly adding a touch of sanctity to the filthy "delivery room." It was the beauty of a new life arriving. Even hidden outside the window, Lumian could directly feel that joy rooted in the origins of humankind. Of course, alongside it, the eerie, absurd, vile, and discordant sensation grew all the more pronounced. Lumian finally came to his senses and instinctively glanced back into the room. The woman in the grayish-white gown had already placed the infant onto the white silk spread beside Louis Lund. It was a boy, his skin covered more in blood than milky-white vernix, but other than that, there was nothing anomalous about him—he looked like an ordinary newborn. Lumian watched for another two seconds and noticed that the baby boy's ten fingers were curved, with remarkably long nails that resembled a bird's talons. Just moments ago, he had torn open Louis Lund's belly with those very hands! Louis Lund lay there, already lapsed into a semi-conscious state. The tear in his belly had not yet been stitched shut. Blood steadily seeped out, offering a faint glimpse of his displaced intestines and a bizarre, bird's-nest-like object draped in a flesh-colored membrane. After swaddling the infant in silk, the woman removed that nest-like thing, picked up a sewing needle and catgut thread, and set to work attending to Louis Lund's wound. Amidst Louis Lund's agonized groans, she murmured as she stitched, "You've got it easy. When I gave birth to quadruplets last time, now that was real agony..." The muscles in Lumian's face twitched. He felt that after his eyes, brain, heart, and spirit had been affected, his ears had now been contaminated as well. He pulled his gaze back and decided to leave this place at once. With another light leap, Lumian sprang back to the window he had climbed out from and slipped into the room. He shut the window, slipped through the door, and headed straight for the staircase. Dodging a male servant coming up, Lumian moved with light, brisk steps and returned to the main hall. "Where did you go?" A mellow, melodious voice with a hint of magnetic warmth suddenly sounded right beside his ear. Even with his Hunter senses, Lumian had failed to detect someone standing right beside the staircase entrance beforehand. He spun around sharply to look and saw Madame Pualis, dressed in a blue corseted gown, her hair half-pinned and half-falling loose over her shoulders. The smile had vanished from her face, and her bright brown eyes clearly mirrored Lumian's figure. Lumian's nerves strung taut at once. In the grip of fear, he braced himself for battle. Just then, Aurore emerged from a side room, looked over at him, and asked, "Where did you go? The carriage is already parked at the door." In situations like this, Lumian was well-practiced. Mixing truth and lies, he said, "Didn't Madame Pualis mention earlier that Monsieur Lund was unwell? I've shared a few drinks with him and thought I'd pay him a visit, but this castle is so big, and I didn't know where his quarters were. I searched around for quite a while and couldn't find him." Aurore nodded and chided gently, "You could have just asked Madame Pualis directly. There was no need to hide it from us. It's not a bad thing." "It's my fault. I apologize." Lumian looked toward Madame Pualis with earnest contrition. After witnessing that scene upstairs, his fear of this lady far outweighed his disgust. A smile finally returned to Madame Pualis's face, softening her stern expression. "I thank you on Lund's behalf for your kind thought, but he is in a rather poor state during this bout of illness and prefers not to present an undignified image before others." *Undignified is an understatement...* Lumian silently agreed. Aurore then turned to Madame Pualis. "Shall we board the carriage then? Thank you so very much." Lumian watched Madame Pualis out of the corner of his eye, anxious that she might make up some excuse to keep the two of them a little longer. If she did, it would mean she had noticed something amiss and needed to check if anything had gone wrong on Louis Lund's end! Even though Lumian felt that after reuniting with his sister the two of them might stand a chance against Madame Pualis, this was her castle, surrounded entirely by her servants. For a Hunter, it was the worst possible hunting environment. Madame Pualis gave a slight nod and said to Aurore with a smile, "I look forward to the gifts you bring back from Trier. The fashion trends there never fail to captivate me." "I hope I can bring you a pleasant surprise." Though Aurore had no idea whether they would ever return to Cordu Village in this lifetime, pleasantries still had to be observed. Accompanied by her personal maid, Cathy, Madame Pualis saw the siblings to the doorway and watched them step into the enclosed four-seater carriage. Boasting a dark brown beard and a burly build, the coachman was dressed in deep red clothes, yellow trousers, and a waxed hat. Except for the absence of a necktie, he looked nearly identical to a professional city cabman. This had been mandated by the administrator, Béost. "Thank you for your trouble," Aurore said courteously to the coachman before closing the carriage door. The coachman was named Séver, possessing the blue eyes most common in the Republic of Intis. Delighted by the respect shown by such a pretty lady and looking forward to the tip he would surely receive upon arriving in Dariège, he called out warmly, "Madame, Monsieur, please sit tight." He cracked his whip, urging the horses to pick up their pace from a trot to a steady clip. As the carriage passed through Cordu Village, it suddenly ground to a halt. Though he knew their journey away would never be smooth or easy, Lumian's heart still skipped a beat. "What happened?" he asked the coachman through the carriage wall. Séver answered, "Madame promised yesterday to send Naroka to Junac Village. I was worried there wouldn't be enough time to come back after heading to Dariège, so I figured I'd pick her up on the way. Don't worry, it won't delay you." Junac Village was closer to Dariège than Cordu Village, so stopping there first would hardly affect Aurore and Lumian's arrival time. Since it was someone else's carriage and they had no right to object, Aurore raised no complaint. Lumian, on the other hand, was far more concerned about Naroka—in the previous loop, Naroka had died abruptly, presumably murdered by a relative and connected to the parish priest's clique. Séver stepped down from the carriage, entered Naroka's house, and soon emerged leading the woman out. Unlike usual, Naroka had changed into a black gown adorned with exquisite patterns and wore a dark, soft-brimmed bonnet favored by older women. Her sparse, graying hair had clearly been combed with great care. "Oh, my little cabbage, where are you off to?" Naroka climbed into the carriage and grew visibly delighted upon seeing Aurore. Her face, etched with age spots and wrinkles, radiated an undisguised joy, and her usually cloudy eyes looked much more spirited. "I'm heading to Trier to attend an authors' salon, and taking Lumian along to tour the universities there," Aurore replied, speaking absolute truth. She then asked, "Naroka, are you going to visit someone?" Although it was customary for Naroka to wear black as a widow, she wore this particular gown only on holidays, banquets, and the anniversary of her late husband's death. Naroka wore an expression of anticipation. "Yes, to meet a few people." Lumian remained silent, quietly observing Naroka to see if he could glean anything from her. The carriage started moving again, heading out of Cordu Village. Aurore and Naroka chatted in bits and pieces, though Aurore's attention remained largely fixed on the view outside. Deep down, she was still worried that their hurried departure might arouse suspicion from certain individuals. As the carriage rolled onward, Lumian suddenly sensed a change in Naroka's condition. Compared to before, the woman's face had grown noticeably pale and tinged with green, and the sparkle in her eyes had faded. She had fallen entirely silent, offering only a brief word or two when Aurore asked her something directly. This was remarkably similar to the Naroka Lumian had seen in the dead of night during the previous loop! Lumian quietly tugged at Aurore's hand. Aurore promptly turned her head toward him, an inquiring look in her eyes. Lumian discreetly pointed toward Naroka, then traced an "X" on his sister's palm. An "X" was the mark Aurore often used when grading his test papers to indicate an error; here, Lumian used it to signal that something was wrong with Naroka. Aurore froze for a second, quickly grasping his meaning. She shifted her attention back to Naroka and clearly sensed the abnormality. She immediately raised her right hand and massaged both of her temples. Her light blue eyes instantly grew deeper, tinged with a faint shade of darkness. With just a single glance, Aurore's shapely golden brows knitted together, and her body leaned back slightly as if struck by an impact. She closed her eyes, rubbing her temples with a look of mild pain, appearing somewhat exhausted. Upon opening her eyes again, Aurore turned to Lumian and said, "Once we reach Dariège, you must stay close to me. No matter what happens, stick right by my side." She spoke with utter solemnity. Lumian understood immediately. His sister meant that if anything were to occur next, he had to cling tightly to her and let her handle it. He nodded gravely, resolving to come clean to his sister shortly about having become a Beyonder. Aurore turned her gaze back to Naroka and asked deliberately, "Naroka, are you really going to Junac Village, or somewhere else?" She was concerned that if they waited for the carriage to stop on its own, the situation would become even harder to resolve. In that case, it was better to trigger things in advance rather than fight on ground of the enemy's choosing. Naroka's gaze turned somewhat hollow, and she replied in a low, deep voice, "No, I am not going to Junac Village. "Where I am going... is the underworld." The moment the words left her mouth, Lumian felt the space outside the carriage windows plunge into an abnormal gloom.