Undercurrents

After leaving the old tavern, Lumian went back to skulking around.

Keeping himself hidden, he approached the road he usually took home.

Sure enough, he spotted one of Pons Béné's men crouching behind a leafy tree beside the road, watching the passersby.

The parish priest really won't stop until he gets what he wants... Lumian couldn't help sighing inwardly.

More importantly, he had no way to strike back effectively.

For one thing, his own abilities were limited. For another, if anything happened to the parish priest, it would inevitably alert the Church of the Eternal Blazing Sun in the Dalege Region. The Inquisition would certainly send people to investigate, which would be extremely dangerous for Aurora.

Unless he was cornered and had already decided to abandon this place and move elsewhere, all Lumian could do was dig into the parish priest's private affairs and see whether exposing a scandal could get him transferred to some monastery to "retire."

And even exposing a scandal required finesse, just as he had previously arranged for outsiders to stumble upon the parish priest's affair with Madame Pualis.

Lumian hadn't spread the story far and wide because he didn't want to draw attention to himself. From his observations, Beaost, the administrator and territorial judge, cared deeply about saving face. If Lumian exposed Madame Pualis's affair, he certainly wouldn't earn Beaost's gratitude. Hatred and hostility were far more likely.

Faced with attacks from both the parish priest and the administrator, Lumian would definitely have to flee Cordou Village.

He cautiously detoured onto another road squeezed between several houses.

Along the way, Lumian kept using walls, doors, and trees to conceal himself. As he neared the "exit," he suddenly heard voices.

"Guillaume, why don't we just go to Aurora's house at night and grab that brat? Spending all day searching for him and lying in ambush won't accomplish anything. It's a complete waste of our time. He's as cunning as a wolf in the mountains." Pons Béné's familiar, gruff voice reached Lumian's ears. "I know Aurora can fight, but there are so many of us. We could even find help in town."

Guillaume... The parish priest is here too... Lumian stopped and shrank into a corner, intending to hear how the parish priest would respond and what he planned to do about him.

Guillaume Béné's voice had a slightly resonant quality:

"Surely you don't think the abilities Aurora has shown are all she has?

"She very likely possesses supernatural powers I don't have."

"Ah..." Pons Béné sounded clearly surprised. "She's a witch? Guillaume, why don't you go to Dalege and fetch the Tribunal? If you catch a real witch, the Church will definitely reward you. You might even obtain the supernatural powers you've wanted for so long."

"Idiot," Guillaume Béné snapped at his younger brother. "Don't you understand the situation in the village right now? Those Tribunal people have noses like dogs. They won't overlook the slightest abnormality. We'd be in serious trouble then.

"Even if Aurora really does want to deal with us, I have other options. Don't alert the Tribunal unless we have no choice."

So what exactly is going on in the village right now? Lumian considered this highly important and was deeply curious.

Together with the unusual things he had noticed earlier, this made him suspect that something bad was brewing and developing in the village, like a surging undercurrent beneath a calm sea.

To his disappointment, Pons Béné didn't pursue the subject. His attention was focused on something else:

"What can you do against a witch?"

"You don't need to know," the parish priest, Guillaume Béné, said gravely. "For now, we can put dealing with Lumian aside, but we still need to keep up appearances. No one must doubt my determination to retaliate, or those outsiders might make certain connections, which would have undesirable consequences. What you need to do now is warn everyone involved, one by one, and scare those bumpkins who might have noticed something. Don't let them let anything slip in front of those outsiders."

"Guillaume, do you mean those outsiders came to investigate that matter?" Pons Béné sounded distinctly frightened and worried.

Just look at you. All muscle and no brains. Nothing like your brother, so composed and calm-a born leader... Lumian mocked Pons Béné inwardly.

Although he loathed the parish priest and thought the man was practically a breeding stallion, vulgar and greedy, nothing like a clergyman, a rough, brutal, forceful, and direct approach actually commanded more respect in the countryside. Add his status, power, wealth, clear head, considerable intelligence, and decent eloquence, and even Lumian had to admit that the man possessed a certain charisma. He easily inspired worship and dependence in those around him.

Guillaume Béné sneered.

"Don't worry. As long as those outsiders can't obtain real evidence, I'll remain the parish priest of Cordou Village.

"Pons, remember this: you can't rule a place through intimidation, terror, and suppression alone. You'll never have peace that way, or achieve the results you want. Does the Church want a pile of ruins, a place that can't pay taxes? Since we can't kill every adult here, we need friends and followers. In return, we can offer them a measure of protection.

"The Church lets us oversee affairs here instead of sending outsiders because we're locals. We have relatives, friends, and followers who can help them control this place better without making a mess of it. So, as long as there isn't enough evidence, our superiors will certainly choose to keep trusting me.

"All right, I'm going back to the church."

That certainly sounds reasonable, and it can sway people, but Parish Priest, your knowledge and perspective still don't extend beyond the Dalege Region... Aurora told me that elsewhere, when faced with villages severely corrupted by evil gods, the Church chose total destruction, reducing those places to ruins. In that case, not only all the adults, but even the children would be killed... Lumian had almost been "persuaded" by Guillaume Béné. Fortunately, Aurora often told him about the horrors of the Church of the Eternal Blazing Sun and the Church of the God of Steam and Machinery.

Once the parish priest left, Lumian took yet another route and made it home without incident.

Beside the oven, Aurora was busy working in a white apron.

"What are you making?" Lumian asked curiously.

Lunch was still more than two hours away.

Aurora tucked a loose strand of golden hair behind her ear and said with a smile, "I'm trying a new kind of bread. Rice bread."

"You don't have to go to all this trouble..." Lumian was immediately touched.

He thought Aurora was doing it so he could eat better.

Aurora burst out laughing. "What are you thinking? Don't be so full of yourself, all right?

"For me, cooking and baking are forms of entertainment, effective ways to pass the time. Understand?"

"Then why don't you like going out? There's more entertainment outside." Lumian had always thought Aurora often shut herself away at home because she was too concerned about the dangers her identity as a Warlock might bring.

Aurora turned her head and glared at him. "Drinking and playing cards?

"Remember, I am my own world; I need seek nothing outside it."

Lumian understood the first half, but the latter half left him bewildered.

"Huh?

"Could you explain what that means?"

Aurora gave him a sidelong look.

"Simply put, your big sister here suffers from social anxiety most of the time!"

"What do you mean, most of the time?" Lumian asked in confusion.

"People are bundles of contradictions." Aurora turned her attention back to the oven. "Don't you remember? Sometimes I'm especially talkative and eager to go out and listen to the old ladies gossip, then tease the children and tell them stories. Sometimes I even go wild, borrow Madame Pualis's pony, and roam the mountains, galloping wherever I please and shouting at the top of my lungs."

At times like that, you shine like a rose bathed in morning dew, drawing people close only to prick them... Lumian couldn't help muttering inwardly.

Since Madame Pualis had come up, Lumian changed the subject directly.

"Aurora-uh, Sis-I just heard a rumor about Madame Pualis."

"What?" Aurora made no attempt to hide her curiosity.

"She's a Warlock who can communicate with the souls of the dead..." Lumian told his sister what Ava had said, along with the unusual things he had noticed and the words of the parish priest, Guillaume Béné.

Aurora stopped what she was doing and listened attentively to her brother's account.

Her expression grew noticeably more solemn.

Once Lumian finished, Aurora smiled and reassured him.

"Don't worry too much. Those three outsiders probably came because of something the parish priest and his people have been doing in secret. It's very likely connected to Madame Pualis.

"Don't provoke Madame Pualis for now. I'll keep an eye on them.

"Spend more time walking around the village and interacting with those outsiders. See if you can work out what's really going on. Heh, comparatively speaking, the lady who gave you the Wands card deserves more of our attention.

"If the situation really is getting worse, we'll have to consider leaving Cordou Village. Hmm, we can start making some preparations now."

"Okay." Lumian wholeheartedly agreed with his sister's approach.

After a pause, he asked with some curiosity, "Aurora, if we really do leave Cordou Village, where do you plan to settle?"

"Trier!" Aurora answered without hesitation.

Trier was the capital of the Republic of Intis and the center of culture and art for the entire continent.

"Why?" Although Lumian himself had also been thinking of Trier, he casually asked anyway.

-Every Intisian wanted to go to Trier.

And in the eyes of Trier's residents, Intis had only two kinds of people: Trierians and provincials.

With a wistful air, Aurora said, "A prophet once said:

"As long as Trier endures, joy shall remain in the world." (Note 1)

Note 1: Adapted from Nostradamus's Centuries.