79 Sufferer

Sensing the light dim, Lumian hurriedly opened his eyes.

The black robe lay charred on the altar, resisting the golden flames licking at its edges. Yet still it struggled to stand, like a cursed puppet refusing to die.

The translucent faces of Reimund and the others flickered in and out of existence around him, ghosts trapped between the present and a future obliterated.

“Down!” Ryan bellowed.

Lumian dropped without hesitation. If there had been time, he would have thrown himself flat to the ground.

Leah and Valentine were a heartbeat behind, scrambling to duck.

In the same instant, Ryan plunged the Sword of Dawn into the altar’s heart, piercing the robe.

Silently the broadsword shattered into a resplendent storm of light, tearing the altar asunder.

When the radiance cleared, Lumian peered up to find the altar a ruin, reduced by a third. Candles, thorns, and black cloth had vanished, ground to dust floating on the air.

Incredible power… Lumian had pondered this strike since the day before.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

Leah rose and spun swiftly around. The four silver bells decorating her veil and boots jangled ominously, their tune neither reassuring nor alarming.

“This isn’t over.” She warned Ryan and Valentine before murmuring. “The altar’s gone—so what’s the catch?”

As she spoke, Valentine conjured golden flames that floated in the air and lit up the space.

At the far end of the basement, there was naught but piled human bones and a few sheepskins. The ceiling was bare and unadorned—not even a chandelier.

Lumian snickered. “No Beyonder characteristics?”

“Maybe they were sacrificed,” Ryan said bluntly. “It’s also likely they didn’t get many boons in the beginning and weren’t tough enough. They could only nab normal folks as sacrifices and only go after Beyonders once they had decent powers. For instance, this time.”

It was clear they weren’t unfamiliar with getting boons.

Ryan then said, “There’s nothing else here. We should bail. No point tangling with danger we can’t see.”

Lumian didn’t react. Lumian scanned the room again, searching for any hidden doors from the subtle traces.

The answer was no.

He led the way out of the basement, Leah, Ryan and Valentine trailing behind.

As soon as Lumian emerged, Ryan grunted in pain.

His body flew backward, slamming into the basement door. The rickety stairs shuddered.

Wham!

Some invisible spear had pierced Ryan’s chest, pinning him to the wall. Blood gushed from the gaping wound. If Ryan hadn’t jerked aside just in time, that spear would’ve skewered his heart.

Leah, who had her Spirit Vision activated the entire time, couldn’t detect their attacker.

It was as if some deity had singled Ryan out for punishment.

Before they could figure out what was going on, Leah’s smile twisted into a grimace.

Her arms snapped back on their own. Bones shattered with a crunch as her limbs went limp. A crater bloomed in her stomach, as if she’d been sucker-punched. The impact sent her staggering backwards into the wall.

Valentine shrieked from the foot of the stairs.

His ribs collapsed one by one, like a sledgehammer was pounding his chest. With a series of bangs, bloody holes tore through Leah and Valentine’s stomach and chest, spearing them to the stone wall.

Lumian was stunned for a moment. While this inexplicable change confused him, he was relieved that he didn’t appear to be the target of this bizarre attack.

Did that black thorn symbol protect me? As this thought flashed through his mind, he suddenly felt an invisible force slam him against the wall by the stairs.

There was nothing visible with his Spirit Vision.

Remembering what had happened to Ryan and the others, Lumian immediately dodged to the side.

Intense agony instantly filled his mind. The skin on his right chest tore open, roughly exposing his lungs.

Lumian felt as if an invisible rod had impaled him and nailed him to the wall.

As his bright red blood flowed out, Ryan lit up the area with spots of light that looked like dawn. This would effectively banish evil and dispel illusions.

However, the four of them still couldn’t see anything.

Bang!

Ryan’s chest caved in, hit by an invisible hammer.

As Leah’s veil and silver bell boots rang out intensely, her nails were pried out by an invisible force, staining them red.

This indescribable pain contorted her face in terror.

Valentine spread his arms and let the holy pillar of light descend upon him. The light of the sun suddenly erupted, obliterating all evil and igniting Valentine’s body. However, in the sun’s glare, his arms were uncontrollably wrenched backward and stuck to the wall. Two blood-red holes appeared on his wrists, nailing them in place.

When the light faded, Valentine’s face was charred, and his skin peeled off inch by inch.

Seeing their ordeal, Lumian couldn’t help but feel anguish for them.

It was unknown if it was because of the black thorn symbol, but his misery had abated. His face felt as if slapped by an invisible hand repeatedly. His face was red and swollen, and his teeth were loose. He could hardly speak.

Just as another round of attacks were about to descend, Lumian’s vision blurred and he glimpsed a wilderness.

In the distance loomed a mountain range, and close by stretched a grassy wilderness.

Two demon-like creatures with goat horns hauled a dark red, conch-like carriage from afar, hastening before Lumian and company.

Seated in the carriage was a woman in emerald robes and laurel wreath. Chestnut locks swept up, hazel eyes bright and watery. Dignified and noble, reminiscent of Madame Pualis matured.

She kept her pledge to proffer aid? Lumian startled, then delighted as the invisible force assailed them not.

Somehow he knew the woman before him was not quite Madame Pualis. Or rather, not Madame Pualis precisely. More an unearthly construct Madame Pualis had fashioned by dint of will.

Lumian chose to call her Madame Night.

Unlike his Paramita encounter, Madame Pualis grasped an oak branch mistletoe-wreathed at its tip in one hand, a jadeite bowl of sparkling liquid in the other.

Madame Pualis dipped the oak branch in the bowl and sprinkled them.

After the third sprinkle, Lumian saw his chest wound heal apace. The swelling receded swiftly, and no more was he pinned immobile to the wall.

Leah, Ryan and Valentine wholly healed, no trace of cruel injuries.

“What attacked us?” Lumian asked, figuring nothing ventured, nothing lost.

Madame Pualis, seated in the crimson carriage, replied superciliously, “There’s a hint of Sufferer taint on you now. Thankfully, it’s minor. Otherwise, you’d have to restart the loop.”

“Sufferer taint? What’s that supposed to mean?” Lumian exchanged puzzled looks with Ryan and the others.

Madame Pualis replied gently, “That’s all I know.”

“Then do you know what happened to the dead Warlock and owl in the cemetery?” Lumian pressed.

Madame Pualis glanced at him. “If I’d known, things wouldn’t have turned out this way. I’d originally planned to rule this place, but now I have no choice but to leave.”

Rule this place? Alarm bells rang in Lumian’s head. Falling into a loop might not be the worst fate.

Aurore and I have no idea how many babies we’d have if Madame Pualis gets her way!

Compared to that, getting looped and destroyed at any moment doesn’t seem so bad.

At least we’d die unadulterated!

Madame Pualis glanced at them but said nothing more. She had her pitch-black demon beasts pull her conch carriage into the wilderness.

By the time she disappeared from Lumian and the others’ sight, the wilderness was gone.

Just then, they realized they were still in the basement. Half of them were on the stairs, the other half by the wooden door.

If not for the blood and fallen nails on the ground and walls, they’d have thought they’d experienced a hyper-realistic illusion.

“Let’s get out of here first.” Ryan quickly regained his senses and told Valentine, “Get rid of any traces we left.”

Valentine nodded and conjured illusory golden flames to burn the blood and nails away.

The four of them faced no further attacks on their way back to the cathedral.

It was unclear if the Sufferer taint had been expended or if Madame Pualis had wiped it out.

Just as Lumian was about to leave through the side door, he suddenly spotted the deputy padre, Michel Garrigue, standing dazed outside the room where sleeping servants had been stowed.

Was this fellow back from filling his stomach? Lumian was about to avoid him when Michel, with his curly brown hair and delicate features, suddenly turned and saw them.

Ryan was poised to knock this guy out when Michel Garrigue asked with an unnaturally cheerful smile, “Here to pray? Need a confession?”

Everyone else in the cathedral has collapsed, but you’re concerned with confessions? Lumian looked at Michel as if he were mad.

Compared to before, this guy’s abnormality was glaringly obvious!

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