Lumian had all but exhausted every ounce of his strength finding an excuse to explain away his earlier behavior. Under Aurore's suspicious gaze, he tottered upstairs and made his way to his room.
"...Did I... did I just have a dream?"
He said in a hoarse voice:
"Godfather, this wasn't a dream... was it?"
"I don't want to deceive you with lies, nor do I want to dress things up as a beautiful dream. Don't ask me why I'm helping you. I'm your godfather, after all, aren't I?" Nimrod glanced at Lumian.
"Do you think a life that can last only twelve days counts as a real life?"
Lumian opened his mouth, then collapsed onto his bed as though every ounce of strength had been drained from his body.
He covered his face with trembling hands, seemingly wanting to cry, yet apparently having forgotten how. In the end, all he could force out of his chest was an anguished howl like a raging wind.
Nimrod watched Lumian quietly, wisps of thin gray fog flowing out around him.
After a long while, the gray fog around them had begun to rise slowly around Lumian. Only then did Lumian open his bloodshot eyes wide. "Then is there still a way to put things right? A way... to resolve this loop?"
"Yes." Nimrod nodded. "I'll find you a Dream Weaver later and have them weave you a beautiful dream of what comes after those twelve days. Let you live in a dream for the rest of your life, and that will resolve this loop."
Hearing Nimrod say this, Lumian fell silent.
Seeing Lumian look as though all hope had died within him, Nimrod suddenly spoke:
"But what if I told you Aurore's death wasn't inevitable, but... certain people deliberately brought about this loop you're experiencing?"
Lumian slowly raised his head. He had clenched his teeth so hard that his gums bled, and he drew a shallow breath.
"Who?"
"A few great beings whose names you aren't even allowed to know." Nimrod deliberately adopted a rather nasty tone. "Their goal is to shape you into a person composed of specific symbols, to turn you into a tool in their hands."
"Oh, right. Although a few of them bear you some goodwill, they can barely protect themselves."
Listening to Nimrod, Lumian found himself at a loss for words. He merely sat in silence for a while before speaking with resolve:
"Godfather, what do we need to do next to break this loop?"
Seeing that Lumian had realized something, Nimrod nodded gently.
"Explore the secrets of this dream. That's what I need, and what you need as well. You know far too little right now, and I'm not the great being you imagine me to be-I'm just a somewhat unusual Beyonder."
"Somewhat unusual?" Lumian repeated, word by word, then forced a bitter chuckle out of his throat. "I'll take your word for it. I don't have a choice... do I? You're the only one who's told me anything about what I've been experiencing. The other great beings never gave me a chance to choose."
"One of them actually wanted to give you a chance, too. Unfortunately, no one gave him a chance to choose."
Nimrod spoke earnestly to Lumian:
"But I really haven't lied to you. I really am unwilling to lower myself to being a god."
Late that night, Nimrod watched Lumian sitting amid the ruins. Sensing the thin layer of gray fog he had draped over the inside of the Fool's seal, he slowly exhaled.
When he opened his eyes again, he was already in his own room, with crimson moonlight spilling in through the window.
In a view visible only to Nimrod, the Celestial Worthy, dressed in ancient robes, approached him from afar.
"Heh heh, I quite like what you said. 'Lower myself to being a god.' Such audacity."
With that, he lightly clapped his hands and offered Nimrod some encouragement:
"Don't you think there are a few too many gods in this universe? Those fragile creatures hardly qualify as real gods-to us, being called a True God really is the greatest insult."
Nimrod ignored the Celestial Worthy's mockery and simply said to him, "It seems injuries sustained over there are reflected here in real time."
He opened his hand. On his palm were wounds left by the intense fighting in the dream, along with charred burn marks caused by Little Scythe's negative effects.
The former had mostly healed, but the latter had not changed at all. It seemed the Flesh Magic originating from a Rose Bishop within this Beyonder item could not repair the damage caused by the negative effects of a Priest of Light's Beyonder item.
"So be careful, and don't die," the Celestial Worthy said leisurely. "I'm still quite eager to see what earth-shaking commotion you can cause."
This time, Nimrod ignored the Celestial Worthy and simply lay down on his bed, mentally reviewing his experiences over the past three days.
During this transmigration, Nimrod had first helped Lumian concoct the Hunter potion and become a true Hunter. Then he had matched wits with the Celestial Worthy and reached an agreement to cooperate with him. After that, he had mobilized the gray fog originating from the Fool within Lumian's dream, and through a conversation with Aurore, led Lumian to subconsciously accept the possibility that something was wrong with her condition.
Finally, Nimrod had used the gaze that the future Grisha Adam had left upon him, a portion of the aura bestowed upon him by the True Creator of the past, and the power of Sefirah Castle within this dream to disguise himself as a terrifying being akin to an evil god. He had brought this iteration of the loop to an end as quickly as possible, thereby resolving some of the problems within the dream.
After actively unraveling some of the problems within Lumian's dream in this way, Nimrod felt his digestion of Mystery Pryer advance considerably, since the dream involved quite a few high-level beings.
"A Mystery Pryer doesn't merely need the ability to unravel mysteries. They also need to actively discover mysteries and solve them... This should be one of the ways to act as a Mystery Pryer."
Nimrod silently mused:
"Of course, knowing what the Celestial Worthy is like, I think acting to digest this Beyonder Characteristic also requires actively securing benefits for myself. Viewed in terms of the entire Error pathway, unraveling mysteries is a Mystery Pryer's means, not their essence. Heh, I'm not a Detective, after all..."
Nimrod briefly summed up the Acting Method for Mystery Pryer. Just then, a knocking sound came from outside the door.
"Mr. L."
Mr. Z's fervent voice reached Nimrod:
"I've come to treat your injuries."
Before you continue