A law enforcer in a black robe stood at the window, looking at the entrance to the underground mausoleum, which resembled the mouth of a giant beast.
In his eyes, Lumianās figure could be seen descending the gray-white stone steps one by one.
Elsewhere in Morora, Albus Medici stood by another window.
However, his gaze was not on the nearby buildings but on the cemetery and Lumian, neither of which could be seen from this street.
Is it starting? the descendant of the Red Angel chuckled.
ā¦
Blindfolded, Lumian moved steadily through the darkness, guided by the mental map in his mind, approaching the location of the Abscessed Handās head.
This is the end. I need to turn leftā¦ Itās exactly like the diagram in the bookā¦ Lumian reached out his right hand, not holding the carbide lamp, and touched something cold and hard.
It was likely a wall.
He then turned left, walked a bit further, and stopped.
He sensed the Abscessed Handās head was just a few meters to his right, while the surroundings were eerily silent.
Lumian turned, extending his right hand in that direction, but he only felt an equally cold, hard wall.
Behind the wall? According to the diagram, there should be a room behind here, and the door is about five meters aheadā¦
Even though he couldnāt see, the importance of knowledge became evident in this situation.
Counting his steps, he reached what should be the door and felt around, finding the wooden board.
He fumbled for the handle, gently twisted it, and pushed open the slightly ajar door.
Meanwhile, he mused internally, Albus casually threw it, and the Hand Broās head ended up here?
Even if it bounced around, it shouldnāt have gotten this farā¦
Even though itās not very far from the entrance, there were two turns, and the door is even closed.
Did the door close afterward?
Growing more cautious, Lumian listened for any sounds beyond the door.
It was completely silent.
He slowly entered the room, moving towards the corner from which the rotten stench emanated, his connection to the Abscessed Hand growing clearer.
His right hand was ready to draw the Sword of Courage from the Travelerās Bag at any moment, while his left, holding the carbide lamp, reached for Abscessed Handās head.
The head was higher than he expected, placed on a shelf rather than the ground.
Suddenly, his fist brushed against something slimy and damp, which wriggled slightly.
Five cold, finger-like things instantly grabbed Lumianās left fist.
A chill ran down his spine.
Encountering such a thing while blindfolded was many times more terrifying.
He couldnāt tell what it was!
But he was certain it wasnāt the Abscessed Handās head, as that was just a head!
In a flash, Lumianās left fist ignited with blazing white flames.
His fist moved forward, accelerating suddenly, snapping sharply between the finger-like things.
Boom!
The explosion scattered the slimy fingers, and Lumian used the semi-activated black mark on his right shoulder to teleport behind what he presumed was the Abscessed Handās head.
āHmph!ā
Lumian exhaled two beams of white light from his nostrils.
He felt he had hit his target.
Without waiting for his opponent to fall, he swung his left fist, burning with intense flames, while his right hand stayed ready to draw the Sword of Courage.
Bang!
It felt like hitting an elastic, dead wood. He unleashed his accumulated flaming forces.
Boom!
The violent blast pushed the slimy āwoodā forward a bit.
Then, there was silence, with no sound of something hitting the ground.
Cautiously, Lumian transformed into a blazing-white spear and charged.
He felt himself piercing through a withered tree filled with rust and flesh, landing in front of the Abscessed Handās head amidst a strong, pungent odor.
There was no resistance, no real counterattack.
Is it over? Lumian, still blindfolded, felt uneasy.
He kept his right hand in the Travelerās Bag, holding the carbide lampās handle with his mouth, reaching up with his left hand, prepared to use the Spirit World Traversal if needed.
In the still atmosphere, Lumian touched the slimy, foul-smelling, limp flesh and greasy, disgusting āweeds.ā
This should be Hand Broās hairā¦ No other abnormalitiesā¦
Lumian mustered his courage and continued feeling around.
Soon, he touched a decaying neck, then a wounded āshoulder.ā
A shoulderā¦ Despite being mentally prepared, Lumian was still startled.
The Abscessed Handās head couldnāt have grown a body, right?
After waiting a few seconds with no sudden attack, Lumian grabbed the greasy āweedsā that were likely the hair and pulled.
As he applied force, there was a reluctant, cork-popping āplopā sound.
His center of gravity wavered as if he had pulled something free.
He had torn off the head!
Almost simultaneously, Lumian sensed the Abscessed Handās body parts inside the Travelerās Bag moving, but they couldnāt breach the spatial barrier, only wriggling closer, pushing away other items.
This is Hand Broās headā¦ Then who tried to āshake handsā with me? Scenes flashed through Lumianās mind: A head dragging a bloody spine flying through the air, a headless body chasing itā¦
In the mausoleum sealing 0-01, there must be similar headless bodies, and one of them took Hand Broās head, attaching it to its neck? No wonder Albusās casual toss brought Hand Broās head all the way hereā¦ Lumian quickly guessed, finding the situation both amusing and horrifying.
If the headless body and the Abscessed Handās head stayed together for months, something terrifying might happenā¦
Lumian didnāt dare put the head in the Travelerās Bag, which would inevitably cause the body parts to reunite, summoning the Abscessed Hand. He wanted to wait until he encountered Julie, Celeste, Albus, or Wanak.
Holding the head and the lamp, Lumian prepared to leave the room.
Suddenly, Lumian felt something and flinched his right shoulder.
He sensed that something was trying to pat him.
But when he moved away, everything returned to normal, silent and still.
Lumianās body ignited with blazing-white flames that expanded outward in a spherical shape, pushing in all directions.
The flames only ignited the object that had originally held the Abscessed Handās head.
Unable to see, Lumian didnāt dwell on what had tried to pat his shoulder. Recalling the earlier battle, he quickly determined his position and direction.
Then, he walked steadily back to the door and exited, acting as if he could see every detail around him.
Finally obtaining the Abscessed Handās head gave Lumian a bit of confidence. Using the mental map he had formed, he made his way to the lowest level of the underground mausoleum, filled with puppet soldiers.
Blindfolded with layers of white bandages, he occasionally turned right, walked forward, descended stairs, and fumbled to open heavy or simple doors.
He didnāt forget to activate the brass amulet in ancient Hermes, listening with one ear and monitoring his surroundings with the other.
As he walked, Lumian suddenly conjured a flame in his right palm and flung it ahead, forming a burning straight sword.
It seemed to hit something, but it could have just been an illusion.
Lumian didnāt maintain the flaming sword, letting it extinguish.
He didnāt investigate whether he had encountered something real or if it was just a reaction from his tense, sightless state.
Though his knowledge didnāt explicitly cover it, his past experiences hinted at a key point: In the underground mausoleum, if you believe something is real, it likely becomes real! As long as it doesnāt pose a direct threat, itās best to ignore potential dangers!
After descending another staircase, Lumian suddenly felt like he was being watched by numerous eyes.
At that moment, he had the urge to tear off his bandages and see what was happening.
Plop! A cold drop of liquid fell on the back of his left hand.
It felt sticky, but there was no smell of blood.
Plop, plop, plop! The cold ādropletsā increased, falling faster and faster, like a sudden downpour.
Inside the mausoleum, 20 to 30 meters underground, it started to ārain.ā
What the hell is going on? Whatās around meā¦ The book only mentioned a hall here, straight ahead to the exit, but it didnāt provide a detailed layout or mention anything special insideā¦
Lumian endured the soaking ārainā and, under countless watching eyes, stepped forward with his right foot.
Thud!
A drumbeat suddenly sounded, as if striking Lumianās heart, making him feel like he wanted to spit out blood.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
The drumming grew clearer and more intense.
Lumian also faintly heard a soft, scratching chuckle.