“Dammit!”

Franca couldn’t help but blurt out her usual modal particle. With a quick swipe of her index finger across her nose, her hand revealed a bright red stain. The sight alone sent a shiver down her spine.

Franca snorted.

In an instant, black flames flickered in her nostrils, fingers, and the blood on the ground, swiftly vanishing into thin air.

Catching Lumian’s gaze, Franca, slightly contorted from the pain, forced herself to enlighten him.

“We can’t leave our blood in this unknown place. Otherwise, unimaginable horrors may unfold. Hey, why are you unharmed?”

From Franca’s perspective, she surpassed Ciel in terms of Sequence and experience. There was no reason for him to emerge unscathed while she suffered!

“Perhaps I’m fine for now,” Lumian patronizingly responded, pondering thoughtfully. “Maybe the shadow we encountered represented the old you, not the old me.”

“So why did we come across the old me and not the old you?” Franca eyed Lumian suspiciously.

Could this bloke be hiding another secret?

Lumian pondered for a moment before answering.

“Perhaps this space is more intertwined with Demonesses.”

“Could be…” Franca fell into deep contemplation.

After a few seconds, she pointed towards the footprints and blood droplets on the ground and suggested, “Let’s catch up and investigate. The current condition of those people could reveal our future and help us prepare in advance.”

Lumian responded with action, walking into the darkness that swallowed the footprints and blood droplets.

The yellowish-blue light of the carbide lamp quietly resisted the encroaching darkness.

As they tracked further, the abnormalities on their bodies became increasingly apparent. Warm blood began to trickle from Lumian’s nose, while crimson liquid seeped from Franca’s eyes, gums, skin, and ears.

With her black flames, not a drop of blood remained.

Finally, they “returned” to the secondary well, where the tracks of the smuggling caravan and the slowly congealing blood abruptly vanished.

Whether it was the tunnel leading to the secondary well or the path to other areas, there were no traces left.

“They vanished again?” Franca, her face enveloped in black flames, frowned.

Lumian, his nose sealed by the black flames, took a deep breath and smiled.

“This might be our end. When the blood reaches a certain point, our bodies will gradually fade away.”

Franca glanced at Lumian, who remained calm and composed, and clicked her tongue in admiration. “You’ve got a decent mindset.”

Lumian chuckled.

“So what if I do? Too many negative emotions will only cloud my thinking.”

“Sometimes, I reckon you’re more mature than me.” Franca sighed.

“Did you just figure that out?” Lumian naturally wouldn’t mention that he was both sincerely pondering the issue and confident.

Compared to Cordu, trapped in an endless loop, at least there was no sign of terrifying power in this place!

Moreover, Lumian didn’t need to rack his brain to come up with several escape strategies.

The first option was to take a risky move by using the Mystery Prying Glasses to explore the surroundings from different angles and locate an exit.

Secondly, he could try throwing out Mr. K’s finger to establish a connection, hoping it would create a passageway.

Thirdly, summoning Madame Hela or the messenger of Madam Magician was another possibility. If it succeeded, it would mean that this place wasn’t entirely cut off from the spirit world. The two ladies might have a way to forcefully extract Lumian and Franca.

Fourthly, if all else failed, he could set up an altar and offer prayers to the mysterious ruler beyond the gray fog. Such a bizarre space couldn’t restrict a great entity. Even the cycle of fate orchestrated by the evil god couldn’t shield them from His watchful eye, let alone this place.

Lastly, if the great entity remained unresponsive, Lumian could perform a ritual and beseech for a boon. He could activate the black thorn symbol on his chest, allowing the sealed evil god’s corruption to amplify. This disruption might create a vulnerability in the workings of this space.

You can be as calm and composed as me when you have numerous untried methods and believe there’s a high chance of escaping this place… Lumian criticized inwardly, feeling somewhat perplexed.

It felt like he had forgotten something important, but it eluded his memory momentarily.

Franca retrieved a light-gold makeup box, opened it, and placed it on the ground.

Her form swiftly faded away, leaving no trace behind.

The aqueous light within the palm-sized mirror flickered, illuminating Franca’s figure.

How magical… Lumian sighed, marveling at the sight.

Franca glanced around within the mirror for a few seconds before vanishing.

She reappeared across from Lumian, shaking her head, and uttered, “I can’t find a way out by relying on the mirror…”

Without awaiting Lumian’s response, the Witch attempted several more methods, but all proved futile.

Finally, she caressed the mirror inside the makeup box, seeking guidance from her spirituality.

In such a place, she hesitated to perform Magic mirror divination, fearing a perilous and dreadful connection.

“The way out… The way out…” Franca repeated the divination phrase in Hermes several times, and the mirror darkened, resembling a moonlit lake.

The shimmering aqueous light reflected a figure.

It was Lumian—wearing a wide-brimmed round hat, a white shirt, a brown jacket, and dark pants. Black flames flickered subtly at his nose.

“Uh…” Franca turned around, looking at her companion by her side.

She furrowed her brow slightly and stated, “Finding the exit with your glasses? Isn’t that too dangerous?”

Congratulations on finally uncovering the simplest among my five solutions… Lumian pondered and remarked, “This is no longer the true Underground Trier, nor does it seem to be directly linked to the ruins of the Fourth Epoch. As long as we protect ourselves, we should be able to endure any peril.”

“Protect…” Franca repeated the word with a smile. “I happen to excel at that!”

With a swift motion of her right hand, she extinguished the black flames on Lumian’s nose.

After a few seconds, a drop of bright red liquid trickled down, caught by Franca’s open palm.

Then, she conjured fresh black flames, sealing Lumian’s nostrils once again.

The mild burning sensation was tolerable for Alms Monk Lumian. He asked cautiously, “What are you doing with my blood, a curse?”

Franca chuckled.

“Do I need to go through all this trouble just to kill you? I’ll perform a Mirror Substitution to shield you from the danger of using those glasses.”

As she spoke, she retrieved a palm-sized mirror and smeared Lumian’s blood upon it.

She has so many mirrors… Are they the essence of a Witch’s spells? Lumian observed Franca’s busy movements, enlightened and slightly envious.

Franca turned her head and addressed him, “Give me two strands of your hair.”

Without hesitation, Lumian plucked two strands and handed them over.

A black flame appeared in Franca’s hand, incinerating the golden strands.

She sprinkled the ashes onto the mirror’s surface and stroked it with her black-flamed palm while murmuring an inaudible incantation.

When the black flames suddenly receded into the mirror, the traces of blood and hair vanished.

“Do not stray more than 30 meters away from me,” Franca cautioned, holding the seemingly ordinary mirror.

Lumian nodded and retrieved the Mystery Prying Glasses from his pocket.

He placed the brown gold-rimmed glasses on the bridge of his nose, but his right hand remained gripping the mirror holder, ready to remove the glasses at a moment’s notice.

Almost simultaneously, Lumian beheld a multitude of scenes:

Faces concealed in darkness, pallid and ferocious, drenched in blood.

A mass of dark hair floated amidst the shadows, comprised of hundreds or perhaps thousands of strands, extending in various directions.

Lingering figures, rock walls shimmering with aqueous light, and an impenetrable darkness.

In the pond-like puddle, a colossal, swollen, and pallid face lurked beneath the lightless surface, peering outward.

There was a glistening cave…

Light… Cave… Lumian’s intuition instantaneously struck, compelling his dizzy mind to focus on the edge of the scene.

The luminous-filled cave rapidly enlarged, revealing a dimly lit passage beyond.

As the cave drew nearer, Lumian realized it was merely a reflection in a mirror. Its surface was solid and inaccessible.

The mirror sank to the depths of the lightless pool.

Suddenly, the colossal, swollen, and pallid face swiftly expanded before Lumian’s eyes, consuming his field of vision.

Lumian’s sight darkened, and he nearly lost consciousness.

Vaguely, he “saw” his flesh attempting to depart from his skeleton.

Whack!

Lumian heard a crisp shattering sound, and his mind cleared.

He swiftly removed the Mystery Prying Glasses and retched.

After he regained his composure, Franca inquired with concern, “Are you alright?”

At some point, the mirror in her hand had shattered into countless fragments, scattered across the ground.

Lumian took a deep breath and replied, “I’m fine now.”

He extended his finger, indicating a specific direction.

“Over a hundred meters from the tunnel, there lies a massive puddle. And at the puddle’s depths, you’ll find a mirror. That mirror reflects a cave, which leads to a path of light.

“However, be warned, for within that puddle lurks a perilous monster. I nearly died when I beheld its visage.”

Franca listened in silence, her mutterings a mixture of confusion and frustration.

“Goddammit, could this place truly be connected to a Demoness?”