Chapter 466 Encounter

Franca blended into the shadows and moved silently through the shadows, her eyes fixed on the crimson-lit corridor.

She even began to suspect that Ciel had failed to find her and had enlisted the help of Madam Magician to teleport Gardner Martin away. How else could he have vanished without her noticing?

The third floor of the grayish-white villa remained still. Franca listened closely, feeling like she was the only one left in the building. The butler, valet, maid, gardener, and chef seemed to have disappeared into thin air.

She cautiously approached the valet’s room, extending her right palm and silently turning the handle.

Through her Dark Vision, Franca spotted two people lying on the bed, wrapped in each other’s embrace and covered by a thin blanket.

Almost simultaneously, Franca’s pupils dilated.

The two of them were headless, their necks nestled against each other, their wounds stained with blood.

Initially taken aback, Franca recalled Ciel’s description of the Iron and Blood Cross Order’s Supervisor Olson. She suspected that Gardner’s valet and his lover had experienced a similar situation. Their heads had seemingly “come to life” and left their bodies.

Without further scrutiny, she quietly closed the door and blended into the dense shadows of the staircase.

Franca wanted to see if anyone else in the building had suffered a similar fate.

Upon descending to the first-floor hall, her eyes froze.

The armor and weapons that had been there were gone!

What a drastic change… F*ck, how did I not notice it at all? Franca, who had been confident in her abilities, experience, and reactions, couldn’t help but waver.

In the next moment, the washroom door on the first floor swung open, and a lady’s maid in an old nightgown emerged.

The lady’s maid shook off the liquid in her hand and slowly made her way back to the servants’ quarters, her head empty and her neck stained red.

Hidden in the shadows, Franca cast her gaze out the window. The two patrolling guards had also lost their heads, and the shadow reflected in the glass was like a magnified beer bottle.

Franca, having roughly confirmed the situation at 11 Rue des Fontaines, didn’t hesitate and quickly sneaked out of the villa.

She planned to report this to Madam Judgment immediately and use the Primordial Demoness figurine to inform Browns Sauron and Demoness of Black Clarice about the anomaly here.

The latter necessitated a ritual. Franca was concerned that attempting it in this abnormal building would trigger unnecessary changes and bring unpredictable danger, so she decided to escape the abnormal environment before taking the corresponding measures.

In the darkness of the night, the Demoness of Pleasure lurked in the shadows of an empty house. She exited the building from the side and circled the lawn ahead.

…

Beneath Trier, Blazing Danitz forcefully opened the stone door.

Behind them, they found a small mine, with three classical oil lamps embedded in the stone wall—one high, and two low.

In the center of the mine, a staircase descended into darkness. The bottom was hidden in shadow, appearing to have no end.

Danitz retracted his fist and turned his body, signaling the nearly 20 sailors following him to enter the mine and cooperate.

Among them were Hunters responsible for observing the environment and detecting hidden traps and subtle traces. Seers used coin tosses or crystal pendants to determine the direction and danger of pursuit. A Mid-Sequence Sailor was ready to assist his teammates and handle any mishaps…

With this coordination, Danitz’s team swiftly made their way through the stairs and tunnel, and their vision suddenly brightened.

They found themselves in a caved-in quarry cave, scattered with straw mats, rags, pottery jars, and other items.

Danitz scanned the area and chuckled.

“It’s been turned into a weapons cache… Not long ago, dozens of rebels lived here.”

His gaze shifted to the end of the quarry cave, where a wide tunnel led to an unknown destination.

A sailor standing beside Danitz clicked his tongue and remarked, “There should be many similar military hideouts nearby. Are the main rebel forces led by the Carbonari all here?”

“I’m not blind. I can see!” Blazing Danitz cursed. “The question now is, where did they go? Is the chaos about to begin?”

…

In the market district, at Auberge du Coq Doré, Room 305,

Anthony Reid was awakened by the previous earthquake.

Ever since his escape that night, he had become sensitive to various movements, although not as fearful as when he heard gunshots.

Given the dangerous signals provided by the intelligence they had discussed earlier, he couldn’t fall asleep quickly.

Anthony Reid got out of bed and poured a glass of light beer to ease his anxiety.

After using Placate on himself, he intended to force himself to sleep a little longer.

At that moment, he heard pounding at the motel’s entrance.

Who returns so late at night? It feels a little urgent… Anthony Reid listened intently, sensing that something was brewing in secret.

Before long, footsteps approached his door,

and Anthony Reid immediately opened it to peer into the dimly lit corridor.

He spotted an impatient man in a grayish-blue worker’s uniform and cap.

This was an informant he had developed at the docks.

“What happened?” Anthony Reid asked in a calm and gentle voice.

Having been placated, the informant’s anxiety dissipated, and he cautiously glanced around before lowering his voice.

“There will be a huge strike at the docks tomorrow. Rumor has it that weapons will be issued.”

“Issued weapons…” Anthony Reid’s mind instantly filled with images of barricades, incendiary bombs, smoke grenades, rifles, and two-wheeled carts symbolizing Trier’s chaos.

In Trier, due to the strong resistance of the citizens and their adeptness at protests and battles, such occurrences weren’t too unusual, happening every two or three years, sometimes even two or three times a year. The only difference was in their scale. However, considering the critical situation before a terrifying catastrophe, a massive strike suddenly distributing weapons led Anthony Reid to consider the possibility that it had been premeditated and was part of the impending catastrophe.

The information broker produced a Louis d’or and instructed the informant, “Your intel is very important. Find an excuse not to go to the docks tomorrow and hide at home.”

Instinctively, the informant bit into the gleaming Louis d’or, bid Anthony Reid a cheerful farewell, and departed from Auberge du Coq Doré.

Anthony wasted no time and swiftly descended to the second floor, arriving at Lumian’s room.

He knocked lightly on the wooden door of Room 207, but as the sound reverberated, there was no movement inside. It was so silent, as if no one had lived there for a long time.

Anthony Reid stopped and furrowed his brow.

…

In the painting world, the westering sun cast its illumination on Rue Anarchie, keeping the sky bright.

Lumian and Jenna hurried past the broken gas street lamps, sprinting toward Avenue du Marché.

They were uncertain when Room 7, where Voisin Sanson’s family resided, would discover their teleportation destination. Their goal was to reach the black hole representing Salle de Bal Brise before the other party could lock onto them again.

This way, even if their other plans failed or couldn’t be completed in time, they still had a final option—to enter the black hole and try their luck to see where they would appear.

Thud! Thud! Thud! Lumian led Jenna forward, and Avenue du Marché came into view. He grabbed Jenna’s shoulder and spewed crimson flames from his body, enveloping them both in a huge fireball.

The fireball sped forward with incredible velocity.

Lumian forcefully led Jenna across a distance of seven to eight meters towards the intersection of Rue Anarchie and Avenue du Marché.

During this process, Jenna, unlike Lumian, wasn’t immune to the flames. Her hair and skin singed, but she didn’t struggle violently. Instead, she shrank her body and created frost to resist the crimson flames, easing the pain.

In the blink of an eye, they reached the edge of Avenue du Marché.

From there, they had a clear view of Salle de Bal Brise in the distance and the pitch-black darkness.

This allowed Lumian to identify his destination without needing coordinates.

What he saw was where they’d arrive!

The black mark on his right shoulder emitted a dim light once more.

Spirit World Traversal!

In an instant, Lumian and Jenna appeared beside the darkness.

At that moment, a crystal-like wall materialized before them.

It extended upward, enclosing the entire Salle de Bal Brise like a transparent lid.

Lumian and Jenna subconsciously gazed up and saw two figures in the air.

One was a young woman wearing a blue beret, a tied-up white shirt, and dark pants. Her beige vest was open, and her body was covered in paint. Her orange hair was short, and her yellow eyes were deep and ethereal, as if hiding a world.

The other man, in his thirties, wore similar attire but with red pants for his lower body. He had gentle facial features, light eyebrows, and distant, ethereal blue eyes.

He still held a thick paintbrush in his hand, with a palette of mostly used paint.

Behind them, a pair of translucent dragonfly-like wings flapped gently, helping them hover in the air.

Painters? Those Pixies? Lumian and Jenna instantly speculated.

The man looked at Lumian with surprise and spoke in a voice that seemed to come from afar,

“Welcome back to the Hostel, Room 1.”

Room 1… Lumian’s eyes froze.

Room 1? Jenna couldn’t help but turn to her companion in shock.

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