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Lumian rarely saw "The Penitent" Bainfel behave so unusually, and asked with a mixture of anticipation and curiosity, "What did you discover?"

Dressed in the Black Robe of Clergy, his body charred black and partially stained with embers, Bainfel withdrew his gaze and replied in a low voice, "The Evernight conceals the flowing sin."

After saying this, the "Penitent" stepped into the void and disappeared from the room.

The Evernight conceals the flowing sins... Is the emphasis on the Evernight because only in the Late Night can one enter that special Dream? What does "flowing sins" refer to? Can't you mysterious fellows just say things that are easy for others to understand? Lumian muttered a few words to himself, opened Franca's letter, and quickly began to read.

To be honest, after so much time has passed, his desire to understand the past experiences of that Humanoid Sealed Artifact has faded considerably. After all, at the time, he mainly felt that the other party's state was very similar to his own, and his emotions were touched, so he made that suggestion. But now, that emotion has long since settled down.

Of course, it was just settling, not disappearing. Lumian grabbed a piece of paper and wrote down the whole story, intending to send it to the "Magician" Lady by noon tomorrow.

As for whether the holder of this Major Arcana would agree to, or be willing to complete such an unequal transaction, Lumian wasn't too confident. He just intuitively felt that the Major Arcana of the "Tarot Club" were unlikely to possess the important items lost by the Orthodox God Church; taking advantage of the situation to get something for nothing was more likely their choice.

Leaving the Briu Inn, Lumian watched as Camus, wearing Yellow Waistcoat, emerged from an unlit street corner, an area barely illuminated by the Crimson Moonlight. Beside him was Riya, a Local Patrol Team member in Leather Armor armor carrying a Hunting Bow.

"Why are there only two people today?" Lumian chuckled and walked towards the location of the "Hisoka" house.

Camus took a breath, calming his sudden surge of emotions, and replied in a deep voice while walking beside Louis Berri on his left, "There are only a few days left until the Seventeenth. Unexpected events could happen at any time. We can no longer act alone."

After consciously and purposefully gathering intelligence, the Patrol Team discovered some anomalies, which made Camus feel that staying in Tizamo Town was not a wise move, and he remained on edge.

He increasingly felt a sense of oppression, realizing he was already middle-aged and needed to shoulder many heavy responsibilities.

Lumian raised his right eyebrow:

"Wow, they found node number seventeen so quickly."

"We're not fools," Camus finally retorted. "It's an obvious problem. Last Year, Tizamo Town was attacked on December 17th, and in previous years..."

He then fell silent.

He found that when he was with Louis Berri, he was always switching back and forth between a repressed middle-aged state of being forced to be calm and composed and a teenage state of being less emotionally controllable.

Lumian asked with great interest, "How were things in previous years?"

Camus paused for a few seconds and said, "We obtained the funeral registers of Tizamo Town from the Saint Sien Church- Sien for the past thirty years and discovered a peculiar phenomenon: eighty percent of the annual death Recording are concentrated in the three months following mid-December."

"This place isn't like many places in the Northern Continent, where there are harsh winters that are difficult for the elderly and the weak to endure. Even if there are, late December to late March is still considered summer."

This phenomenon is very unusual.

Lumian walked slowly forward, nodding slightly, and asked, "Is the death rate in Tizamo Town higher than in other places?"

"It's gotten much higher, but that's mainly due to the attacks from that Primitive Tribe in the jungle. Also, we've discovered that those Primitive Tribe are concentrated in the three months starting in mid-December, two or three times each, while there haven't been any since the one on December 17th Last Year. These things don't seem right." Camus was a little worried that a major attack might occur in the next few days.

"Heh, it's understandable that the deaths from Recording attacks by the Primitive Tribe would be concentrated in the first three months. Are there any other unusual circumstances?" Lumian asked casually, as if taking a stroll.

His answer came from Riya, who silently followed him.

The woman, with her striking, wild beauty and brown skin and hair, spoke in a slightly hoarse voice, "In the first half of this year, several Women in the town and on the Plantation experienced symptoms of Pregnancy such as nausea, acid reflux, and bloating. They all believed they were being possessed by Ghost and might be giving birth to an Evil child, but they weren't actually Pregnancy. These were all hallucinations. After Priest Kali performed Mass and gave them a simple purification, they received psychological comfort and quickly returned to normal."

"We have also noticed similar occurrences in Tizamo Town over the past few years, concentrated in the first half of the year. Similarly, there are other phenomena, not just Pregnancy, involving delusions of being possessed or attacked by Evil Spirit or Ghost," Camus added.

Lumian stopped in his tracks:

"Don't the townspeople and people on the surrounding Plantation find it strange that there are mass hysteria attacks every year?"

As a member of the Local Patrol Team, Riya explained simply, "Everyone believes it was caused by that Primitive Tribe in the jungle."

"Why?" Lumian continued his evening "walk."

Riya's vocal cords seemed to have been damaged; her voice was always a little hoarse.

"Through repeated attacks and conflicts, that Primitive Tribe demonstrated the ability to command Corpse, Ghost, and Shadows, and some of their Warrior seemed to continue Protection their tribe as spirits after death."

The Death Domain... Ha, the whole thing seems logically closed on the surface, no wonder the Tizamo people who went to other places didn't think there was anything wrong with it and didn't mention it... Lumian had seen records of that Primitive Tribe, but not as detailed as Riya's description.

After asking the Patrol Team what intelligence they had recently gathered, Lumian stopped in front of the house called "Hisoka," turned his head, and glanced at Riya was carrying Hunting Bow and Arrows.

"You're from the Southern Continent, but not a native of Tizamo Town?"

Riya nodded and calmly said, "I come from the jungle, from a Primitive Tribe tribe called ' Wind.' We and the Book mainly live in the area near the Pass Valley."

The Rainforest of the Southern Continent are vast, covering large areas of several princely states, from the area near the Pass Valley to the area near Matani Province, a distance that may be farther than the distance from Cordou Village to Trier.

--"Wind" means "wind" in the Dutanian.

"How did you get to Matani Province?" Lumian asked, slightly curious.

Riya chuckled softly, her voice low and gentle.

"She was sold."

She paused for a moment and then said, "Ten years ago, my Tribes was attacked by the army of the Kingdom of Loen. I was captured and sold many times, eventually ending up in the Northern State. Later, I found a chance to escape and fled to Port Pylos. With the help of the Church, I got a job, and then, by sheer luck, I became Beyonder."

The Local Patrol Team member calmly recounted his past experiences, neither exaggerating the Pain and torment he might have endured nor deliberately avoiding the topic.

No wonder he has Devout faith in the "Eternal Blazing Sun"... Lumian climbed the stairs outside leading to the Second Layer and said in the same calm tone, "You use a bow and arrow instead of firearms, is that a habit you've retained from your childhood?"

"Yes, Tribes named after the wind are all skilled archers." Riya's light brown face softened quickly.

Lumian glanced back at her:

Have you gone back to check?

After a few seconds of silence, Riya said, "They're all dead..."

Lumian and Camus fell silent simultaneously, averted their gazes, and climbed the last few steps to enter the Second Layer of the house.

After glancing at the spacious but rudimentary surroundings and listening to the howls of wild beasts echoing from the Primeval Jungle, Lumian sat down cross-legged.

He originally wanted to tell Riya, "It's impossible for all the people in your tribe to die. Some of them will inevitably be captured and sold, just like you were. They might still be alive, in some Plantation, in some mine, or in some Dance Hall Bar," but in the end he held back.

He could see that Riya had accepted her current life and had the ability to make it better for herself. It would be inappropriate to encourage her to travel across the Southern and Northern Continent, risking numerous dangers to find the remaining members of her tribe.

Just thinking about such a thing is incredibly troublesome. Not only are there few clues, but they are also widely scattered and potentially very dangerous. Even if one were to spend a lifetime on it, it might not be possible to accomplish it. Not everyone with a similar experience would be willing to sacrifice their normal life to find someone and seek revenge.

Riya probably knew that some of her people were still alive, but perhaps because those who were most important to her were already dead, she chose to stay in Port Pylos.

Everyone has their own choices, and I can't impose my own Lingering Obsession on others... Lumian composed herself and smiled at Camus and Riya, who were still standing there:

"Would you like to see the place where the ' Dream Festival ' might be held?"

"Where?" Riya blurted out.

Camus frowned slightly:

"Here?"

He quickly made a guess:

"You come here every night to sleep for a while, is it to go to the place where the ' Dream Festival ' is held?"

"In special Dream?"

"You're quite clever..." Lumian thought to himself, but on the surface, his smile remained unchanged as he replied, "Want to try it out?"

Camus and Riya exchanged a glance before Camus said, "I'll take over. Riya, keep watch on our surroundings."

"I can set some traps." Lumian stood up and spent a few minutes setting up several warning traps nearby.

Then, he lit a Mosquito-Repellent Candle and placed it in the very center of the spacious second floor.

Amidst the crackling sounds, mosquitoes that hadn't had time to fly away landed on the ground one after another, spewing fire and smoke.

"Sleep here," Lumian said to Camus and Riya, sitting cross-legged again.

He had confirmed that sleeping anywhere within the "Hisoka" house Late Night would allow him to enter that special Dream, while sleeping outside or two hours earlier would not have the same effect.

Camus and Riya, half-believing and half-doubting, each found a place to sit, leaning against different Wooden Pillar, and tried to enter a state of slumber.

After an unknown amount of time, Camus suddenly woke up.

What came into his view was the Evernight outside the window and the Crimson Moonlight, the still -Burning Mosquito-Repellent Candle, and Louis Berri standing behind the Candle, smiling at him.

That One Great Adventurer, wearing Golden-Yellow Straw Hat, said in a playful tone, "Welcome to the ' Dream Festival '."