A plan of action

Looking at the reconstructed "letter pleading for help," Lumian fell silent for a long time.

Although this did not necessarily represent the letter's contents-after all, if he disregarded grammar a little, those words could form other sentences, such as "The people around us need help as soon as possible; we are becoming increasingly strange"-it still left him with an indescribable sense of heaviness, as though something were pressing down on his heart.

In the past, he might have thought the sender was playing a prank. But now, more and more abnormal things really were happening in Cordou Village, and those were only the ones he had discovered.

"I can't act like I haven't seen anything, or pretend nothing has happened...

"My sister said that anyone in their right mind should know to avoid danger, not keep standing beneath a wall after discovering it's about to collapse..."

Lumian snapped out of his thoughts and quickly made his decision:

He had to leave Cordou Village as soon as possible, together with his sister!

As for the abnormalities here, the authorities would naturally deal with them, and they would surely protect the villagers as well. Lumian had neither an obligation to shoulder that responsibility nor the ability to do so.

"Besides, I need to speed up my exploration of the dream ruins and try to gain supernatural powers soon, so I can handle any accidents that might happen while we're leaving..." Lumian's mind grew increasingly clear, filled with urgency.

His greatest fear was that the abnormalities would erupt before he and his sister could leave Cordou Village. If that happened, he at least had to avoid becoming a burden to her, and that required him to become considerably stronger than he was now.

With that thought, Lumian put their Little Blue Book back where it belonged, took the sheet of paper bearing the words and sentences he had just written, and hurried downstairs.

He made a point of passing by the stove and tossed the paper into the fire.

Once outside, Lumian headed straight for the old tavern.

The tavern's door was tightly shut. Its owner and bartender, Maurice Béné, had probably gone to attend Naroka's funeral.

However, since it also served as an inn, it could not keep every door locked during the day and deny its guests a way in or out.

Lumian went around to the lane and pushed open the tavern's back door.

When he reached the stairs, he glanced into the main room but saw no one.

His footsteps thudding, Lumian climbed to the second floor and stopped outside the mysterious woman's room.

Seeing no "Resting, do not disturb" sign hanging from the handle, Lumian drew a breath and slowly released it. Then he curled his fingers and gently knocked on the wooden door.

Knock, knock, knock...

He knocked three times in succession, but no sound came from inside.

Knock, knock, knock... Lumian knocked harder, but there was still no reply.

He slapped the door a few more times. The room remained silent.

"She's out?" Lumian frowned. "Did she go to watch Naroka's funeral?"

Without wasting any more time, he went downstairs, left the tavern, and headed straight for the cemetery beside the church.

On the way, he passed Naroka's home.

By then, the crowd outside the door who had come to bid farewell to her body had all dispersed and gone to wait at the cemetery.

Lumian glanced over from a distance, just in time to see the Parish Priest's younger brother, Pons Béné, emerge from the house.

"What..." Startled, he instinctively moved toward the neighboring building and ducked behind cover.

Wasn't entering the house during a funeral forbidden, lest it affect the constellations and carry away good fortune?

Pons Béné stopped outside Naroka's door and exchanged a few quiet words with the old woman's youngest son, a middle-aged man named Arnaud André.

After Pons Béné left, Arnaud locked the front door and headed toward the cemetery.

There really was something strange about Naroka's death... Lumian frowned, silently musing.

He now felt that Naroka's death might not have been caused by the owl. It was more likely connected to the strange things the Parish Priest and his associates were secretly doing.

Perhaps the owl had merely been following its own mission, coming to Cordou Village to take away the deceased's soul, then stopping along the way to observe Lumian for a while.

Of course, Lumian also had an even more chilling suspicion:

The Parish Priest and his associates might have some connection to that owl!

Their strangeness and their secret activities might originally have stemmed from something that Warlock had left behind.

Before leaving Cordou Village, I can find a chance to tell Ryan, Lya, and the others about these suspicions. Hopefully, they can uncover the truth and resolve the problem soon. Lumian withdrew his gaze and walked toward the church of the Eternal Blazing Sun, mulling this over.

Throughout the funeral, Lumian appeared silent and solemn, but in reality, he kept observing every villager, hoping to find something abnormal in their expressions.

Unfortunately, he found nothing.

Still, this also gave him a certain impression:

Some of the villagers might be wearing masks of some kind...

And the mysterious lady who had given him the Tarot card never appeared at the cemetery.

Toward evening, inside the partially sunken two-story building.

"Where's the test paper you completed?" Aurora glanced at her brother as he approached and said casually, "Let me have a look."

Lumian said solemnly, "I have something to tell you."

Aurora's gaze swept across his face.

"Did some wild animal in the village carry off your test paper again?"

"No," Lumian said gravely. "I learned a few things from those outsiders."

Aurora put away her smile and nodded for him to continue.

Starting with Ryan and the others investigating a letter pleading for help, Lumian described the abnormalities in their Little Blue Book, his suspicions about Madame Pualis, and how he had borrowed Raymond's Little Blue Book and made a preliminary reconstruction of the letter's contents.

Finally, he suggested, "Let's leave the village as soon as possible and stay in Dalege-no, Bigos-for a while."

Aurora did not answer immediately. She pondered for well over ten seconds before saying, "That is indeed our best option right now.

"But there's one problem. If we suddenly leave Cordu in a hurry while the authorities are investigating, won't that arouse their suspicions? Won't they stop us and single us out for scrutiny?

"If I weren't a Beyonder, that wouldn't matter much. But I'm an unofficial Beyonder, one the authorities don't recognize-the kind the Tribunal would arrest and purify."

Lumian was inexperienced, after all, and had overlooked this issue earlier. For a moment, he did not know what to say.

After a while, he said, "Force our way out, then hide in another city, or another country?"

"Don't you think a little too highly of me?" Aurora laughed despite herself. "From what I've observed, those three outsiders should all be quite formidable. If there were only one, I might be able to handle them, but there are three. Besides, how do you know there isn't a large force lying in wait outside the village, just waiting for the suspects to get scared, reveal themselves, and flee?"

Lumian was left speechless.

He had to admit that, compared with his sister, he was still far too green and immature. At crucial moments, his thinking was not thorough enough.

"You're still too reckless," Aurora remarked. "But that's normal. What young person doesn't have a bit of fire in them?"

She paused, then continued, "Tomorrow morning, go to the administrator's place and send a telegram to Novel Weekly for me. Ask when the writers' salon they mentioned earlier will take place."

Aurora was a columnist for Novel Weekly and quite popular with its readers.

Only the administrator and the Parish Priest each had a telegraph in Cordou Village, used for urgent communications with the outside world. Villagers could use them at other times, but they had to pay enough Felkine.

Seeing Lumian's puzzled expression, Aurora smiled and briefly explained, "Novel Weekly has been trying to invite me to Trier for some events, but I've turned them all down, including the recent writers' salon.

"If I take the initiative to ask about it, they'll definitely invite me enthusiastically. They might even reimburse us for the round-trip steam train tickets.

"That way, our departure will be perfectly normal. Even if they watch us secretly, they won't treat us as suspects.

"When the time comes, I have a way to fool them briefly. As long as neither of us has actually been contaminated by these abnormal incidents, we'll have a very good chance of leaving Cordu safely."

"All right." Lumian could not help letting out a sigh of relief.

A few seconds later, he asked curiously, "Aurora, uh, sis, is Beyonder the term for someone with supernatural powers?"

"Yes." Aurora did not elaborate.

Instead, she smiled and said, "You're actually willing to abandon your friends and flee Cordu outright."

"What do I care whether other people live or die?" Lumian scoffed.

The most important thing right now was ensuring his sister's safety!

Aurora clicked her tongue and laughed.

"Come on, say that again. I love hearing it.

"How many times have you said something like that before? But every time, you either secretly help them or pretend to warn them casually."

"Those were all minor things," Lumian argued.

The abnormalities now could threaten his sister.

"All right, all right." Aurora wore the expression of someone refusing to argue with a child. "It's time to make dinner. It's your turn today."

Lumian murmured his assent and walked toward the stove.

It was a pitch-black night, with the crimson moon hidden behind clouds.

Lumian washed up and lay down on his bed.

Gradually, unmistakable worry appeared on his face.

It was not that Aurora's plan was bad, but Lumian feared the village's abnormalities would erupt while they waited for Novel Weekly's reply.

Because of that, he was desperate to improve his strength, and obtaining supernatural powers in the dream ruins was currently the most accessible path.

Unfortunately, he had failed to find the lady all day and could not get her advice. He could only try on his own first.

To him, the situation had reached the point where the arrow was nocked and the bowstring drawn. He had no choice but to let it fly.

Without hesitation, Lumian calmed his mind and slowly drifted into sleep.