744 Approach

744 Approach

The moment Lumian saw those iron-black eyes, his mind went completely blank.

When he came to, he was shocked to find himself walking step by step toward the massive iron throne without any intention to do so.

He could feel his body trembling uncontrollably, yet he was powerless to stop his legs from moving.

It seemed as though his body was no longer his own, obeying unknown commands and directed by someone else!

This scene, coupled with the figure on the iron throne possibly being Blood Emperor Alista Tudor, instantly reminded Lumian of two past incidents: One was at the Samaritan Women’s Spring, where both he and Hela lost consciousness due to the violent reactions of the Blood Emperor’s apparition, walking back to the edge of the spring as if they were puppets being manipulated or soldiers absolutely obeying orders.

The other was in the depths of the Red Swan Castle’s underground labyrinth, where he, Albus, and Elros lost consciousness after hearing a phantom roar from Vermonda Sauron in Fourth Epoch Trier, and they all wandered away from the core area, each towards a different wax sculptors.

Could this be a similar situation now? Is this a capability at the Hunter’s angelic level? Lumian forced himself to calm down to find a way out of his current predicament.

Compared to those two times, at least his consciousness recovered quickly this time!

Right, why did my consciousness awaken first this time, while my body still accepts control?

Is the figure of Alista Tudor here weaker and less powerful, or is there another reason?

Perhaps this anomaly holds the key to overcoming the control.

Lumian strained to extend his will towards his limbs, trying to regain control over them.

This had some effect; his steps toward the iron throne began to slow.

He also took the opportunity to get a clearer look at the figure of Alista Tudor on the throne: The Blood Emperor had a stern face with sharp, chiseled features, resolute lips, a prominent nose, and long hair gleaming with a faint blood-light, his iron-black eyes cold yet filled with ultimate madness.

Suddenly, Lumian felt an urge to submit, to give up resistance.

This impulse did not fade quickly but instead swelled rapidly, filling his mind.

No, I can’t resist…

There’s no way to resist…

Submit, submission will grant everything…

If He becomes angry, I will be destroyed, and Franca and Jenna will also be destroyed…

Give up, give up, kneel down and beg for forgiveness, accept the command…

Such thoughts surged in Lumian’s mind, turning into violent waves that battered his clarity, rationality, and will.

He clenched his teeth, as if any relaxation would break the final dam, and the food would completely drown his will and soul.

His previously slowed steps quickened again.

On the deck of the Blue Avenger.

Magician and The Hanged Man were both staring at the dreamlike veil suspended in midair.

Against a backdrop of starlight, Lumian’s figure on the translucent curtain had already become blurred, the surrounding darkness rendering everything else invisible.

This obscurity compared to the previous clarity indicated that something unusual was happening.

The eyes of Magician and The Hanged Man saw Lumian’s body growing increasingly rigid, yet his pace quickening.

They also noticed his black hair slowly lengthening, tinted with a blood-like glow.

“Something’s off,” The Hanged Man Alger, said, turning to Madam Magician beside him.

Magician nodded slightly, preparing to pull out a Sealed Artifact.

This would help her precisely locate Lumian and allow her direct entry into the hidden extradimensional space.

In the dim surroundings, Lumian walked forward with a blank, rigid expression.

Yet his soul was struggling, crying out in pain:

I can’t give up…

J mustn’t give up…

If1 lose my resolve, I will no longer be myself…

Dogsh*t…

Son of a sow…

…

Lumian exerted all his strength, but felt an increasing desire to submit.

Suddenly, the dam holding his will collapsed, and surrender and submission completely overtook him.

Lumian’s mind went blank again.

In this state, he had no concept of how much time had passed, until a deathly cold and rot-like pain shot through his right palm.

Death… cold…

Rot… pain…

Pain…

Lumian was jolted awake, suddenly regaining his thoughts and a measure of control over his body.

Before him was not the nine-stepped dais or the huge iron throne marked with red, but a mirror.

An antique full-length mirror, framed with elaborate silver designs!

The mirror reflected Lumian’s figure.

In the mirror, Lumian saw his face contorted with pain, looking like he might give up at any moment, while his facial contours slowly sharpened and his nose became unnaturally prominent.

At the same time, his black hair grew inch by inch, dyed with a bloody glow, and his blue eyes turned colder, edging toward iron-black.

Jam turning into Alista Tudor…

This realization dawned on Lumian.

Without thinking further, while his body still somewhat obeyed his commands, he immediately lunged to the side, trying to escape the reflection of the silver mirror.

A dive followed by a roll quickly took him out of the mirror’s reflective range.

The next second, he heard a phantom roar, a mad scream.

His mind blanked out again.

As his thoughts gradually returned, he found himself still crouched on the ground, the endpoint of his roll.

His body hadn’t moved toward the mirror on its own, but it couldn’t stop shaking, as if his blood had frozen.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

It seemed as if something inside the mirror was madly pounding, making the mirror clatter as if it were about to shatter and release a monster.

And with each bang against the mirror, Lumian’s mind felt the impact, over and over.

This gripped him with fear, nearly solidifying his thoughts.

After a while, the pounding inside the mirror gradually subsided, and the surroundings became eerily quiet.

Lumian’s body stopped shaking, and he began to understand and reflect on his current situation and recent ordeal: If had really approached that full-length mirror, and the reflection had completed the transformation, would that mean that Blood Emperor Alista Tudor would be resurrected within me?

But as long as I’m not reflected in that mirror, and my image isn’t cast upon it, the impact will be minimal, and neither my will nor my body will lose command…

Is the trigger for this transformation entering the range of the full-length mirror’s reflection?

It seems calm now…

Lumian slowly supported himself up, cautiously observing his surroundings.

He realized he was not in a somber hall, but in a bizarre starlight-formed space where the floor appeared semi-transparent, revealing endless darkness below, and no dome above, only twinkling yet ethereal stars.

On either side were doors of starlight, erect in the darkness, forming a wide, somber corridor that ended with the silver full-body mirror.

At this moment, Lumian had reached deep into this corridor, only about fifteen meters from the mirror.

Was the hall I saw earlier, the stone chair, the iron throne, and the figure of the Blood Emperor all illusions?

Was their purpose to make me submit?

No, if I had been reflected in the mirror, the one emitting the roar I just heard would have achieved their goal…

In a flash of insight, Lumian guessed: Perhaps, the illusions I saw earlier—the iron throne, the figure of Tudor, the broken stone chair— were resonances caused by the residual aura of the Blood Emperor within me and that silver full-length mirror, which also triggered a response trom the Underworld Daoist’s brand, helping me briefly escape the controlled state and the mirror’s reflective range.

Thinking this, Lumian raised his right hand, looking at his palm.

There, the pale red scar was vibrant as if just entered into his body, while the pale skin around it showed clear signs of decay, leaking a pale yellow fluid, and revealing the bones beneath.

This preliminary confirmed Lumian’s suspicion.

He once again turned his gaze toward the silver full-length mirror facing him.

Having dealt with the Mirror People multiple times, he slightly furrowed his brows: Does the Blood Emperor want to use that mirror and His residual aura within me for resurrection?

There must be something hidden inside that mirror.

The Blood Emperor’s s resurrection setup actually involves the mirror world…

Yeah, that’s not unusual, whether it’s the special mirror world itself or the Mirror People from that world, they are all related to this Blood Emperor’s Fourth Epoch Trier…

I had thought the special mirror world was a relic of the War of the Four Emperors, but Moran Avigny from the Tamara family said their connection to the special mirror world was established before the War of the Four Emperors…

Dammit, that special mirror world couldn’t have been created by the Blood Emperor, could it?

How many problems has He left for this world?

As expected of the Blood Emperor known for His madness…

But clearly, the special mirror world can’t avoid the Primordial Demoness…

Could it be that the Demoness Sect secretly lured the Tamara family, trying to subtly influence the Blood Emperor through the special mirror world?

In the end, it was used by the Blood Emperor?

Fourth Epoch Trier is indeed full of mysteries…

As Lumian pondered, he suddenly understood why Termiboros had initially prevented him from exploring the Blue Avenger.

To explore here, one would need either the Underworld Daoist’s brand to seal the Blood Emperor’s residual essence or some corresponding artifact or authority to counteract that domination; otherwise, one would become a puppet of Alista Tudor, allowing Him to resurrect within.

For Termiboros, this was definitely not a good thing.

Lumian’s gaze shifted, focusing on the doors of starlight.

Did they represent different treasures?

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