Chapter 1006 Speaking From Experience

Lumian looked at Franca, her eyes once again a lake-blue hue after her advancement, reflecting the bright or slightly yellow dots of light.

“Yes,” he echoed with a sigh.

Franca fell silent again.

After a long while, she murmured as if in a dream, “Did you know? I can never go back…”

“What happened?” Lumian asked gently, following her lead.

Franca began recounting how she and Jenna had woken up in the basement of Mushu Hospital. It was as if she needed to build up the courage to tell the rest by retelling earlier events, prolonging the time to mentally prepare herself.

Lumian didn’t rush her. He listened quietly, occasionally asking for details.

When Franca reached the part where she chose to force her advancement using the peculiarities of the dreamscape, to draw the Primordial Demoness’s attention and open an escape route, Lumian raised an eyebrow.

Though he had already deduced Franca’s advancement to Demoness of Despair through the Law of Beyonder Characteristics Convergence and his spiritual intuition as a Demoness, and had suspected from her earlier narrative that it was the best possible option under those circumstances, he still couldn’t help but feel there was some design to it all: the conditions for her advancement to Demoness of Despair had come together perfectly at that moment!

Of course, if he had been present, he would’ve simply burned a corpse-oil candle and connected with the terrifying will in that peculiar city, forcibly destroying all obstacles.

After describing how she fell into the illusory abyss with the collapse of the mirror world and the final part of the corridor, Franca paused for a few seconds before continuing in a calm, straightforward tone about how she slowed her descent, how she felt her mind and spirit being pulled toward the abyss, and how she chose the gray-white fog, sinking into it.

Her body began to tremble, but she pushed through, recounting the blurred door of light, the transparent “cocoons,” the rapidly spinning illusory planet, the slightly solemn voice, and the version of herself within the “cocoon,” along with the reasonable speculations that followed.

Lumian had long suspected that “transmigration” wasn’t as simple as Franca and the others from the Curly-Haired Baboons Research Society believed. He suspected there was a terrifying truth they couldn’t accept. That was why, during their time in the dream city, he and Jenna had tacitly been kinder to Franca, expressing their care for her more clearly and directly. But he hadn’t expected the truth to be this.

So it wasn’t spatial transmigration—it was temporal transmigration… Traveling back and forth through space is possible, but can the flow of time be reversed? No, if that were possible, reviving Aurore wouldn’t be so difficult… Lumian’s emotions suddenly turned somber.

He felt as if he had lost several incredibly important people and objects he deeply missed forever. The sorrow, melancholy, regret, and pain were like sharp chisels engraving an epitaph on his soul.

At that moment, he understood that these were Aurore’s feelings. Her soul fragment had resonated with Franca’s story and intense emotions.

Home—forever out of reach.

“That’s basically it. I suspect the Western Continent is where the Underworld Daoist and the Celestial Master reside. It’s the world thousands, maybe tens of thousands, of years in the future from my homeland…” Franca’s body was still trembling slightly.

Lumian closed his eyes for a moment, then deliberately chuckled and said, “I guess I’m pretty lucky. At least I still have hope of reviving Aurore, but you all don’t even have that anymore.”

Franca’s mouth opened slightly, and she was momentarily stunned.

Infuriated, she burst into laughter. “Dammit! Do you Hunters ever say anything nice? How can a human mouth spew something so venomous!”

“I thought you’d send me flying with a kick,” Lumian said, showing a deliberately punchable expression.

Franca suddenly understood his true intention and snorted. “I had the impulse. You’d make a great punching bag right now.”

She paused, her gaze returning to the window. Looking out at the warm, tranquil night, she said,

“When you said earlier that, in the worst-case scenario, the mission would fail, they’d send in another team, or we’d all face the apocalypse together, but you couldn’t let me die in Mushu Hospital’s basement… I didn’t completely agree with your thinking, but… I did feel like maybe my life had some meaning after all…”

“I said that on purpose, to make you feel needed and valued, to help pull you out of that dead, hopeless state.” Lumian chuckled. “I didn’t know exactly what you’d gone through, but I could tell how you were feeling.”

Franca snapped her head toward Lumian and scoffed, “When dealing with a Hunter, you judge by his actions, not words. I know you really did send Luo Shan and Jenna to get Zhou Mingrui down to the basement.”

Before Lumian could respond, Franca, now more curious than before, asked, “How did you get into that psychological trauma?”

That was near the bottom of the illusory abyss!

Smiling, Lumian replied, “When I reached B2, I ran into Lu Yong’an. She must be an external consciousness brought in by some method, unlike Grimm, who had been corrupted and influenced into becoming a dream manifestation.”

“So when she saw me in Crimson Moon Hospital, she most likely realized I was a fake Child of God but still went along with my actions. Heh, maybe to the Great Mother, whether I’m the real Child of God or a fake, as long as I bear that title, I’ll eventually become real, and this time was her chance.”

“Lu Yong’an told me at the time that to save someone from the illusory abyss, I could only rely on the Mother’s help.”

“You didn’t actually pray, did you?” Franca was suddenly filled with concern and worry, forgetting her earlier despair and emotional numbness.

Her gaze instinctively drifted to Lumian’s abdomen.

“Of course not.” Lumian had deliberately started with Lumian’s story to stir Franca’s emotions, preventing her from fully sinking into sadness.

As someone who had learned from long bouts of depression, he knew exactly what to say and do in such moments.

More importantly, he was also a Demoness of Despair, having gone through the experience of perfectly matching the acting method right after his advancement, digesting the part of the potion that made him “feel despair.” He had also learned from the world’s greatest Psychiatrist’s report on how to stabilize his mental state and avoid losing control.

That was why he was comfortable telling Franca his true thoughts and feelings before he saved her. He intended to be her most solid anchor. After all, how many Hunters would openly reveal their innermost thoughts?

Franca let out an uncontrollable breath of relief. “Then how did you destroy the illusory abyss and open the path?”

Lumian chuckled. “Corpse wax candle.”

As he spoke, he took out the bottle of semi-solid yellow-red wax and sighed.

“The Flame of Destruction burns too fiercely. This candle can only be used once more.”

Franca, who had heard Lumian’s story of the previous ritual with the corpse wax candle and knew that the target of the ritual was likely the terrifying will at the top of the Hunter and Witch pathways, widened her eyes in shock.

“You’re a bit extreme…”

She didn’t finish her thought, reminded that such extremity was for her sake.

Lumian recounted the sensations during the secret deed ritual, the terrifying will’s partial descent, and the mutation of the Blood Emperor’s remnant aura. He ended by saying,

“I couldn’t enter the gray fog initially, but an exaggerated bolt of lightning just happened to strike it.”

“That was…” Franca thought for a moment and said, “Madam Justice’s incantation, delivered through some method. It sounded like a name, to be spoken in ancient Hermes.”

She didn’t dare speak the incantation, afraid that even without using Beyonder language, it might still call down lightning in the dream, though less terrifyingly.

“A name that could summon such lightning in Mr. Fool’s dream?” Lumian pondered. “It must involve a true god or some great existence… Or it could be related to Mr. Fool’s perception.”

“Yes.” Franca was more concerned with something else. “How do you feel now?”

Lumian raised his right hand, palm up, revealing a patch of pale skin and the dark, old red marks beneath it.

“The mutated Blood Emperor’s aura and the Underworld Daoist’s seal have fused slightly… I can’t believe they can fuse…

“So far, there’s been no external manifestation, no other changes…”

After examining his own state, Lumian added, “Also, I feel like there’s something more in me, but I can’t detect it. It hasn’t affected me… It’s more like a side effect of the secret deed ritual, a lingering hallucination…”

“In the next couple of days, find a chance to leave the dream and have Madam Magician check it out,” Franca reminded Lumian not to overlook this issue and to confirm it as soon as possible.

Lumian nodded and said, “In the meantime, go to the company and quit your job. You kept the position before to bait Zaratulstra out with the option to avoid danger by leaving the dream at critical moments. But now, you can’t leave for the time being.”

Only then did Franca remember her current state—before she fully digested the Despair potion, if she left the dream and returned to reality, she would lose control on the spot and turn into a monster.

“Right.” She didn’t argue, realizing she was still in deep trouble.

Then, she turned to leave the window.

“Not going to enjoy the night view anymore?” Lumian asked casually.

Franca pursed her lips and responded, “The more I look, the more I miss it, the harder it is to let go…”

She paused, then half-turned her body, casting her gaze out at the night once again.

After staring for a few seconds, she spoke, her voice soft and distant. “If I were Mr. Fool, I might wish to sleep forever, dreaming of this beautiful night, never waking…”