Sheep

More than a dozen members of the Berri Family were crammed into a shabby-looking two-story house. Familiar with the place, Lumian glanced at the open front door, carefully circled around the side, and came to the open space behind it, enclosed by a wooden fence.

Piles of hay and firewood stood beneath the eaves. Three white sheep, so dirty they looked brown, wandered around them.

Aurora had mentioned that there was something strange about the sheep Pierre Berri had brought back this time, though she couldn't tell exactly what. Remembering this, Lumian had deliberately come to examine them while the shepherd was praying at the church.

Although he had never herded sheep, he lived in Cordu, a village near the highland pastures. He had come into contact with at least seventy or eighty sheep, if not a hundred, and was certainly no stranger to them.

After observing them carefully for a while, Lumian found nothing that distinguished these three sheep from others of their kind. He could only mutter silently:

Can't tell by looking. Do I need to use Beyonder powers?

But a Hunter had no Beyonder powers suited to this.

Lumian had already used his greatly enhanced eyesight, sense of smell, and ability to discern all sorts of traces, yet he still hadn't found any problems.

The only thing he found somewhat strange was that the three sheep's droppings were piled in a corner rather than scattered everywhere.

Of course, this was most likely because the Berri Family regularly cleaned up to make more efficient use of the manure.

After watching for another several dozen seconds, Lumian muttered quietly, "Just looking and sniffing doesn't seem to work... Do I need to get my hands on them?"

Without the slightest hesitation, he braced his hands on the fence and vaulted over it, as smoothly as if he were returning to his own home.

The three sheep turned their heads toward Lumian at the same time. He immediately smiled.

"Come here. Let me give you a checkup."

He wasn't at all worried about their owner discovering what he was doing. He had done similar things more than once or twice. Every household in the village knew that this fellow excelled at playing all kinds of pranks, and using sheep as props was perfectly normal behavior for him.

In Lumian's own words:

Once your reputation was ruined, you might as well enjoy the benefits of having a ruined reputation.

With his reputation as the "king of pranks," nothing he did in Cordou Village would arouse too much suspicion. Even if those clearly abnormal people caught him in the act, they wouldn't be able to immediately confirm that something was wrong with him.

Of course, in such circumstances, Parish Priest Guillaume and the shepherd Pierre might silence him on the principle of "better to kill the wrong person than let anyone slip away." So he still had to be careful when caution was called for.

"Baa! Baa! Baa!"

Seemingly sensing Lumian's ill intentions, the three sheep hid behind the hay piles, their bleats quiet.

But how could they possibly evade a Hunter?

Lumian caught one sheep, patted its flank, and forcibly checked its teeth.

"Nothing wrong here either..." he said quietly.

When the sheep looked at him, he added with a malicious smile, "You're nice and healthy. You'd make a fine lamb stew with peas."

He had deliberately said this to test the intelligence of the three sheep.

Since there was nothing wrong with their bodies, this was the only angle he could pursue.

The sheep's gaze instantly went blank.

Lumian grinned.

"Pretty smart, aren't you? You know what I'm saying?"

The sheep's eyes returned to normal. It turned its head and began eating hay.

"Ignoring me?" Lumian rubbed his chin. "I'll go find Pierre Berri in a bit and buy you. Then I'll eat you tonight!"

The sheep didn't react.

It bit down on some hay and tugged hard.

The hay pile abruptly collapsed, and Lumian's keen Hunter eyes spotted something.

His expression darkened. He walked over and crouched down for a closer look.

There were several nail clippings entwined with black strands of hair.

"Why would these be outside the house?" Lumian whispered in surprise.

As a resident of Cordu, he naturally knew the funeral customs of the Dalege Region. When someone in a household died, some of the deceased's hair and nails had to be cut off and secretly hidden somewhere inside the house, so as not to affect the constellation and to preserve good fortune.

Why would something like this be in a hay pile outside the house?

Lumian picked up the nail clippings entwined with hair, weighing them in his hand as he examined them.

They look very fresh, as if they were only cut recently... He quickly reached a conclusion.

But no one in Cordou Village had died recently!

Lumian could only suspect that this was some sort of witchcraft resembling the funeral custom. He planned to ask his sister about it when he returned.

To avoid arousing suspicion, he stuffed the nail clippings and black hair back into the hay pile and restored the disturbed area to its original state.

Once he had finished, he headed toward the wooden fence.

After a few steps, he looked back at the three sheep. Thinking he had nothing to lose by trying, he remarked as though talking to himself, "There really is something off about Pierre Berri. It's not even May, yet he's already come back to the village...

"Did he commit a crime out there?

"As a good citizen of Intis and a devout believer in God, should I make a trip to Dalege and ask around?"

The three sheep merely watched him. They made no other movements, and their eyes showed no change.

Nothing special about their intelligence either... Lumian sighed inwardly, disappointed.

He then raised both hands, thumbs pointing up and index fingers pointing down, making a contemptuous gesture.

What was wrong with mocking sheep when he was in a bad mood?

The next second, the sheep Lumian had examined suddenly took a few steps forward. Something like hope seemed to light up its eyes.

It raised a forehoof and began drawing in the dirt.

Bewildered and confused, Lumian froze for a moment.

He soon recovered and hurried over to the sheep.

What the sheep drew on the ground seemed to be letters. Lumian found them somewhat familiar, but he couldn't read them.

He frowned and speculated:

This writing probably shares the same origin as Intisian...

But I only know Intisian and some ancient Feysac...

At that moment, Lumian gained a new perspective on Aurora's assertion that "knowledge is power."

The sheep soon finished writing and took two steps back, looking at Lumian with pleading eyes. The other two sheep showed a similar change in emotion and began bleating softly.

Lumian stared at the word on the ground, deep in thought.

His mind was filled with questions like, What does this mean? and How should I respond?

Within a second or two, he had an idea and solemnly nodded at the three sheep.

At the same time, he extended his right foot and rubbed out the word in the dirt.

Although he couldn't read it, he could at least pretend he understood!

He would fool these three sheep for now and ask his sister about it later!

Without waiting for the three sheep to "respond," he slowly nodded with a grave, thoughtful expression while walking toward the fence, as though saying, "Wait here. Let me think of something."

After leaving the sheep pen, Lumian wasted no time. He went straight home and found Aurora curled up in a recliner in the study, reading.

"Sis," he called impatiently. "There's something I need to tell you."

"Calling me Sis right off the bat..." Aurora instantly grew wary. "What trouble have you gotten into this time?"

Lumian calmed himself and organized his thoughts.

"Didn't you tell me there was something wrong with the shepherd Pierre Berri's three sheep?

"While Pierre was praying at the church, I went behind his house to take a look at them. Guess what I found?"

Aurora's expression instantly grew serious.

"Tell me before you do something like that. It's dangerous now, and you didn't even have anyone protecting you."

But if I'd told you beforehand, you probably wouldn't have let me go... Lumian grumbled inwardly, even as he was moved by his sister's concern.

"I'll remember next time," he promised sincerely.

He had already said similar things dozens of times.

Aurora could distinguish urgent information from matters that could wait. She nodded for Lumian to share his discoveries.

Lumian quickly recounted everything that had happened in the sheep pen. The more Aurora heard, the graver she became.

"Write that word down from memory." She rose from the recliner, found a pen and paper, and handed them to Lumian.

Lumian had deliberately memorized it earlier and swiftly reproduced the word.

Aurora took just one look before saying gravely, "This is a serious problem."

I know... Lumian replied inwardly.

Moreover, he believed the problem was even bigger than his sister imagined.

"What problem?" he asked aloud.

Aurora pointed at the word. "This is the Highland Language, the official language of the Kingdom of Feynapotter. Like Intisian, it originated from ancient Feysac.

"It means..."

Aurora paused, then said in a low voice, "Help!"

"Help?" Lumian blurted out in astonishment. "Those three sheep are asking us to save them?"

Aurora murmured in agreement.

"I suspect they aren't sheep.

"They were probably human to begin with!"

"Human?" Lumian asked in surprise.

This was beyond the scope of his knowledge.

He had only thought that the three sheep were highly intelligent, possessed humanlike emotions, and had even mastered some human language. He had never equated them with humans.

To him, people turning into sheep only happened in wildly imaginative stories!

No sooner had the words left his mouth than Lumian ceased to be shocked.

A time loop had already appeared. What was so strange about people turning into sheep?

In the world of mysticism, there was no shortage of the bizarre and absurd.

Faced with her brother's confusion, Aurora nodded solemnly.

"I'm not sure whether there's a secret art that can turn people into sheep, but all the details now point to that possibility."

"That's true," Lumian agreed.

The more he thought about it, the more he felt that those three sheep must be human.

Was the shepherd Pierre Berri actually herding people?

Lumian then asked another question.

"Why were those nails and hairs hidden outside the house?"

Aurora pursed her lips. "That's one of the funeral customs of the Dalege Region. It's just that it rarely comes into use under normal circumstances, so many people have forgotten it.

"As a Warlock, I've researched such things to see whether I could gain any useful knowledge."

She then explained, "When a family member commits suicide, is murdered by a relative, or was so vile in life that they brought a very bad influence upon the entire family, the hair and nails cut off after their death must be hidden outside the house. Otherwise, they could affect the home's constellation and bring misfortune."

Suicide, or murder by a relative? Lumian suddenly remembered something.

In the previous loop, Pons Béné had disregarded the funeral customs and entered Naroka's house.

Could he have gone there to take away Naroka's hair and nails?