708 Remnant Influence

Is this an ordinary mirror world? Lumian gazed at the dark, illusory paths around him that resembled a mosquito landing on a complicated spiderweb. For some reason, he felt a surge of fear, as if a colossal, warped, pitch-black spider could crawl out from the depths of this strange land at any moment and drag him and Franca into the darkness that symbolized destruction.

“Is every illusory path connected to a mirror?” Franca’s voice suddenly echoed in Lumian’s ears, so close he could hear her breathing.

Simultaneously, Lumian caught a whiff of a warm, sweet fragrance. His blood vessels inexplicably pulsed, and his body and mind relaxed slightly.

At some point, Franca had moved to his side, her eyes flickering as she surveyed their surroundings.

Lumian nodded slightly. “In theory, yes.”

“No!” Franca rejected her speculation. “They might also be connected to some mysterious alternate space.”

“That’s right…” Lumian recalled his understanding of the mirror world.

He exhaled and took a step forward.

“I believe those situations should also be connected to mirrors, mirrors that belong to those mysterious alternate spaces.”

Without waiting for Franca’s response, he pointed at the dark illusory path ahead and said,

“Before understanding the mirror world’s coordinates and location, recklessly traversing this place is likely very dangerous. If we’re lucky, we might only end up at the wrong mirror and have no choice but to return to the real world. If we’re unlucky, we’ll reach a mirror representing a dangerous place. When we leave, we’ll have to face terrifying enemies. If we’re super unlucky…”

At this point, Lumian paused.

Franca squeezed to his side and asked in a soft voice, “What happens if we’re super unlucky?”

“W-we’ll vanish from this mirror world forever. We won’t be seen alive, and if we’re dead, our corpses will go missing.” Lumian composed himself and took another step forward.

All of a sudden, he sensed the dark, illusory path morph into a massive vortex, tugging him into its depths.

Franca experienced a comparable sensation, her spirituality sending her a powerful warning.

They both stepped back in unison, evading the absorption of the fearsome vortex.

“How treacherous,” Franca sighed. “Just getting close to these illusory paths without going further can make you plummet into an unknown mirror. Maybe we can only count on the luck of Winners in a situation like this. Let’s hope our destination isn’t too terrible. Uh, your Magnify or Compelling Fate abilities should come in handy.”

Lumian nodded.

“I initially thought the mirror world was closely tied to the spirit world, and teleportation would work here too. But from what I can see, while there is a connection, it’s not strong enough to enable my teleportation. It’s not that I can’t teleport, but it’s way too risky. There’s nearly a 100% chance of getting lost.

“Without comprehending the abilities associated with the mirror world, I don’t suggest using this place to ambush Moran Avigny, unless we’re aided by a high-level Demoness or a high-level Apprentice.”

Noticing Franca nod pensively, Lumian sighed in relief and intentionally taunted, “Have you recovered?”

“Huh?” Franca was startled momentarily before her embarrassment morphed into anger. “What other option do I have? When I use a ritual to seek aid from the Primordial One, I’m inevitably impacted. Sometimes I’m lured, sometimes I’m in pain, and sometimes I’m dejected, as if I’ve temporarily developed a mental disorder. Sometimes I go rigid for a while, as if I’ve been petrified…”

Since officially joining the Demoness Sect, the Demoness of Black had shared extensive mysticism knowledge with Franca, particularly concerning prayers to the Primordial Demoness.

On such topics, the Demoness of Black explained: As the ritual’s host, the ritual itself granted a degree of protection. The extent to which she was influenced by the Primordial One’s overflowing presence was quite minimal. Once the ritual concluded, she would recover after withstanding it for ten to twenty seconds. The only thing to watch out for was the desires arising from their typical reaction to being entranced by the Primordial One. Their fading would be comparatively gradual, but what Demoness didn’t have numerous lovers? There was no need to be overly concerned about this.

The longer Franca talked, the more forceful she became, even a tad aggrieved.

“That’s a genuine deity. How can I possibly resist a genuine deity’s overflowing influence?

“If I weren’t the ritual’s host, I would’ve been unable to restrain myself and would’ve unleashed my primal instincts.”

Franca couldn’t suppress a chuckle at the reference to her primal nature.

Within the mirror world, she had consistently called the Primordial Demoness the Primordial One to prevent blasphemy.

After pondering for a moment, Lumian replied, “Praying to a different genuine deity won’t lead to anything comparable unless someone present is blasphemous.”

“It’s the Primordial One’s fault for being in such a terrible state.” Franca had already come up with the justification. “Don’t assume you can withstand it simply because you’re an Ascetic. If you had been there and not the ritual’s host, I would’ve witnessed your primal nature erupt.”

At this juncture, she appraised Lumian and grinned.

“It’s not like you didn’t react. Were you worried you couldn’t restrain yourself, so you purposely exposed me and created an awkward situation?”

Subconsciously, Franca’s breathing turned labored again.

ƈοm

Lumian scoffed.

“When I got there, the scene’s lingering effects hadn’t fully dissipated, and a peculiar fragrance permeated the air. That was a genuine deity. How could I withstand even the tiniest bit of a genuine deity’s overflowing influence?”

He echoed Franca’s words.

“Really? Is it merely due to the lingering aroma?” Franca’s lake-blue eyes narrowed menacingly, as if challenged.

The aqueous light in her eyes resurfaced, glittering like shards of sunlight.

Lumian exhaled and stepped to the side, grasping Franca’s upper arm.

“I’ll send you back first. Jenna is waiting for you.”

“We’re heading back already?” Franca asked, surprised. “Won’t you explore the mirror world further and consider how to utilize this place?”

“I have a plan.” Lumian tugged Franca away from the illusory tunnel’s spiderweb-like darkness.

As they returned to the quarry cave, Franca, her focus diverted, inquired, “What plan?”

While Lumian tried to activate the black mark on his right shoulder, he responded impassively, “Contract ability.”

He intended to establish a contract with a Beyonder creature possessing a mirror world traversal ability to acquire the corresponding characteristics!

Regardless, he hadn’t determined which three abilities to contract this time. This could be one of them.

“You’re right, a contract ability…” Franca was thrilled.

She then noticed Lumian was still motionless. Comprehending, she murmured into his ear, “Didn’t you want to teleport? Why haven’t we departed? Does your Spirit World Traversal activation always take this long, or are you enduring something?”

As Franca completed her sentence, the pair vanished from the gloomy quarry cave.

…

That evening, in Lumian’s rented apartment, the nearly one-

meter-long Fürth Firefish was set on the dining table. Ludwig used a child’s table knife to break through the charred and tough fish skin, cutting the fair fish meat into pieces.

Lumian glanced at Franca, who had donned a light-colored hunting suit, and noticed the Demoness of Pleasure’s gaze was elusive, brimming with embarrassment.

She appeared to be lamenting: Kill me! This is too mortifying. I don’t want to live anymore!

Lumian, who had been feeling slightly embarrassed himself, smiled.

He mouthed to Franca,

“Post-nut clarity is truly remarkable.”

Despite Franca’s inability to lip-read, she still sensed Lumian’s ridicule.

Pleasure is detrimental! Pleasure is detrimental! Irrespective of gender, when thoughts of pleasure dominate one’s mind, one will invariably engage in various actions that result in their own ruin!

How humiliating!

I don’t want to live!

In that instant, Franca longed for a crevice in the ground to conceal herself.

Anthony, sitting silently at the dining table, glanced at Lumian, then at Franca, before looking away.

At last, Ludwig removed the inedible parts and sliced the fish fillets into three soup pots.

Franca sealed one of the pots with ice and stored it in her Traveler’s Bag for later use. Ludwig slid the other one to Lugano and spoke in a childish tone, “Can we have fish fillet and clam cream broth tonight?”

“Sure,” Lugano promptly agreed.

He made an effort to avert his gaze from Franca and Jenna, the two Demonesses, believing it was disrespectful to his boss.

From his viewpoint, these two Demonesses were probably the boss’s lovers.

He couldn’t help but marvel inwardly.

As expected of the boss. He really has Demonesses as his lovers, and there are two of them!

Back then, Emperor Roselle only had one.

After adding a generous amount of lemon juice to the pot of fish fillets, Ludwig slid them toward Lumian.

His intention was evident. He required the blood of a Mid-

Sequence Beyonder of the Hunter pathway.

“How much do you need?” Lumian inquired.

“Enough to stir it up,” Ludwig replied, acting as if this was the bare minimum.

Jenna frowned and asked, “How much does each person need to eat to gain that permanent effect?”

Ludwig answered innocently, “Different physiques and Sequences need different quantities. You’ll only find out when you actually eat it.”

Lumian raised his eyebrows and poured the rest of Gardner Martin’s blood into the soup pot.

Noticing it was still insufficient, he used a ritual silver dagger to slice his hand and dripped 20 to 30 milliliters of blood into it.

Ludwig observed with anticipation.

“Aren’t you concerned about corruption?” Lumian asked with a smirk.

Ludwig shook his head. “The quantity here isn’t substantial.”

Franca tried her best to act normally and remarked with amusement, “Discussing toxicity without considering dosage is just playing the rogue.”

“Indeed.” Ludwig concurred with Franca and stirred the fish slices in the soup with a spoon.

Gradually, the tender-white fish soaked up the seemingly searing blood, and the fish slowly started to brown.

“Add some ice,” Ludwig instructed Franca and Jenna.

The two Demonesses rose in unison and extended their hands toward the soup pot.

Drops of white frost condensed and descended like rain, noticeably slowing the browning of the fish until it ceased.

Ludwig leaped off his chair and dashed into the kitchen, returning with a few silver plates. He distributed seven to eight Ice Lemon Fish fillets to each of them.

“Is that all?” Jenna asked with a surprised smile.

“If it’s not enough, you can have two or three more,” Ludwig replied earnestly.

Jenna instinctively wanted to say something, but she refrained when she saw Ludwig’s childlike demeanor.

She pointed at their plates and said, “Did you request so much of Lumian’s blood just to eat such a small portion of the fish?

“Why not prepare less and save the remaining half of the pot for tomorrow?”

Ludwig hugged the soup pot in front of him and shouted, “Mine!”

“…” Jenna suddenly felt like a witch stealing candy from a child.

He’s definitely abusing his power… Lumian glanced at Ludwig and shook his head in amusement. “At least you have some sense when it comes to food.”

With that, Lumian polished off all the Ice Lemon Fish fillets on his plate.

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