384 Stagnation
But in that critical moment, his thoughts seemed to slow down, shrouded in a dense fog. Each idea froze, demanding tremendous effort to clear.
Iāve been attackedā¦
Loki is reallyā¦ hereā¦
Is thisā¦ the performanceā¦ of a Marionettistās abilities?
As it nears the endā¦ I wonāt be ableā¦ to thinkā¦ Will Iā¦ become hisā¦ marionette?
My sense of dangerā¦ is cloudedā¦
Dammitā¦ Termiā¦ boros, itās impossibleā¦ that you didnāt noticeā¦ the changes in my fateā¦ You didnātā¦ warn meā¦
Did He intentionally tell meā¦ that Lokiā¦ nearly tracked meā¦ to make me do it again?
Me becoming Lokiāsā¦ puppetā¦ aidsā¦ Him in escapingā¦ the seal?
I canāt justā¦ wait like thisā¦ I must resist with all my mightā¦
Where isā¦ Lokiā¦?
In these fragmented thoughts, Lumian strained to move. His hand found its way into his pocket, and he surveyed his surroundings with stiffness.
Previously, he and Franca had discussed the limitations of the Marionettistās power. They agreed that it must have a certain range or require proximity. Otherwise, it would exceed the capabilities of a Sequence 5 and only be within the realm of a saint who had transcended into godhood. Those from different pathways that Franca knew couldnāt resist it at all.
The duo believed that this ability either required a certain medium or could only be activated at a close distance. Just like the Ring of Punishmentās Psychic Piercing, it could only be effective if the distance between them was reduced to five meters.
Lumian suspected Loki was hiding nearby in the crowd, perhaps no more than ten meters away.
What greeted his eyes were street vendors and passersby. Some of their faces were familiar, while others were unfamiliar. They were no different from usual.
In his haste, Lumian couldnāt discern Loki among them. Adding to the challenge, Loki was a Faceless, skilled in transformation and disguise.
As Lumian continued his search for Loki, a crimson flame manifested in his left palm.
His motives were twofold: first, to test his ability to resist a Marionettistās control and invasion by inflicting pain upon himself, and second, to set a question and observe how Loki would respond. By studying Lokiās reactions, he hoped to glean insights into Lokiās exact whereabouts and weaknesses in his marionette-making abilities.
But just as the searing pain coursed through his mind, Lumian heard a distinct snap.
Instantly, the crimson flame in his palm dissipated into a harmless stream of light, unable to form anything explosive.
Lumian spun around, trying to identify the source of the snapping of fingers.
However, his joints had become encased in a sticky āglue,ā and his movements grew increasingly rigid and sluggish.
This delay caused him to turn a second slower than he intended. Everyone within his line of sight appeared normal, and he couldnāt pinpoint who had snapped their fingers.
Marionettistā¦ is indeed capableā¦ of Flame Controllingā¦
Painā¦ doesnātā¦ help muchā¦ in the slowdown of my thoughtsā¦ and stiffening of my bodyā¦ It onlyā¦ marginallyā¦ increasedā¦ my reaction speedā¦
I canātā¦ waste timeā¦ on such mattersā¦ The most important thingā¦ nowā¦ is to findā¦ Loki. Otherwiseā¦ whether I useā¦ the Spell of Harrumphā¦ summon Mr. Kā¦ or wait forā¦ Franca to save meā¦ wouldnātā¦ significantly changeā¦ the situationā¦
I wonderā¦ if spirit world traversalā¦ can be usedā¦ Ifā¦ the nextā¦ two or three attemptsā¦ failā¦ Iāllā¦ give it a tryā¦ and see if I can teleport outā¦ of a Marionettistāsā¦ ability rangeā¦
Lumianās thoughts grew increasingly sluggish, but they werenāt to the point where he couldnāt think, react, or dodge any attack.
Soon, with his rich combat experience, he came up with an idea.
From theā¦ current situationā¦ a Marionettistā¦ indeed needsā¦ to be at close rangeā¦ to gradually transformā¦ their targetā¦ into a marionetteā¦
In thatā¦ caseā¦ Iāll make sureā¦ thereās no oneā¦ or animalsā¦ within a ten-meterā¦ radius!
Whoeverā¦ lingersā¦ within the Inferno Hellā¦ shall be Loki!
Once Lumian understood the situation, he immediately opened his mouth and shouted, āThereā¦ isā¦ aā¦ fire!ā
Crimson flames surged from Lumianās body as he finished his staccato sentence.
With his feet as the center, they spread out, igniting the fruit peels and litter on the ground.
Alerted by Lumianās warning, nearby street vendors and pedestrians swiftly gathered their belongings and fled toward the ends of Rue Anarchie upon seeing the rising flames.
Seeing their hasty retreat, Lumianās sluggish smile emerged.
Yes, you can use Flame Controlling, but Iām not going to do any delicate maneuvers now. My only move is to constantly ignite the surrounding things and increase the variety of fire sources!
Moreover, this will inevitably draw the attention of official Beyonders!
Crimson flames expanded in all directions, resembling a vibrant ocean gradually consuming the earth.
Despite his faltering gaze, Lumian still managed to catch a glimpse of a figure flickering within the flamesāa figure with black hair, blue eyes, and an ordinary face, blending in with the crowd of clerks on the road.
ā¦
After bidding Lumian farewell, Franca made her way toward Rue des Blouses Blanches.
However, her journey took an unexpected turn as she suddenly veered into an alley, disappearing into the shadows.
This Demoness of Pleasure began to stealthily make her way toward Rue Anarchie.
This was her prior agreement with Lumian.
If their initial plan of barging into Salle de Bal Unique failed to provoke the Beyonders in the Alone Bar or have them reveal themselves, they had a backup planāa kind of āfishingā expedition after leaving Rue Ancienne to see if they could āencounterā their target.
Francaās earlier inquiry about Lumianās intention to engage in counter-tracking was essentially confirming if they should stick to their original strategy. Lumianās response had been affirmative.
As Franca approached Rue Anarchie, she retrieved a mirror from the shadows.
This mirror was a Mirror Substitution, crafted using Lumianās blood and hair!
While it couldnāt be used as a substitute for death or injury at this distance, it had a profound mystical connection to the original body. It could be employed to monitor Lumianās general condition.
In simple terms, if the mirror were to suddenly shatter, it would signal that Lumian had met his demise. If it displayed a few deep cracks, it would indicate that Lumian had suffered severe injuries.
Likewise, Franca had placed a Mirror Substitution on Lumian. This precaution was taken because they were uncertain whom Loki might target after their separation. They had no choice but to conceal themselves in the shadows and continue their activities. Through Mirror Substitution, they could keep tabs on each otherās well-being and provide timely assistance.
This method was more reliable than attempting to discern changes in luck, as Loki possessed formidable anti-divination abilities and could manipulate fate after making decisions.
Franca, deep in her stealthy advancement, was suddenly alerted as the mirror in her hand grew icy cold.
Utilizing her Dark Vision, she pierced through the shadows and witnessed the mirrorās transformation into a lifeless gray, as if it had rusted or been submerged in the depths of an icy lake.
Ciel is under attack? Francaās heart tightened as she quickened her pace.
Upon reaching Rue Anarchie, she was met with the sight of spreading flames. Within the crimson inferno, a figure flickered intermittently. Occasionally, it opened its mouth, producing a sharp bang.
It sounded like a real gunshot, causing vendors and pedestrians to scatter in fear, believing a violent gunfight between the mobs was unfolding.
Lumian, on the other hand, struggled to evade the attacks, but he failed twice. The Air Bullets grazed his body, leaving noticeable wounds.
However, it was clear that the figure didnāt truly intend to harm him. It seemed more concerned about the potential complications that injuries might cause before a specific juncture.
Relieved that Lumian was relatively unscathed, Franca retreated into the shadows and approached the battlefield cautiously. As she drew nearer, she retrieved a mirror and,
disengaging from the shadows, directed the mirror toward the clusters of flames. Her right hand became enshrouded in zero-temperature black flames.
When the figure appeared in the mirrorās reflection, Franca swiftly ran her right hand across the mirrorās surface.
Silently, the figure burst into pitch-black flames.
He swiftly thinned and shrank, transforming into an intricately cut paper figurine.
Among the crowd, roughly ten to twenty meters away, an unusually ordinary-looking man clad in a black suit emerged.
Lumianās thoughts snapped back to full speed, and his body shook off the stiffness that had hindered him.
In a flash, he vanished from his previous position and reappeared just seven meters away from the suspected Loki.
Lumian then exclaimed, āHmph!ā
A brilliant beam of white light shot forth from his nostrils, targeting the ordinary-looking man with black hair and blue eyes.
Simultaneously, Franca acted in perfect coordination. She conjured a transparent ice spear and hurled it toward their target.
Upon piercing the ground, white frost rapidly spread from the impact, chilling those nearby and causing their bodies to stiffen.
At that very moment, a thin-faced passerby with brown hair and brown eyes interposed himself between Lumian and the suspected Loki, intercepting the white beam created by Lumian.
He appeared unharmed, his blank eyes gazing upwards as he began to sing an aria.
āOh, my Sun!ā
In an instant, it was as if a blinding sun had risen within the minds of Lumian, Franca, and others nearby, rendering their thoughts sluggish.
Instinctively, the duo moved to evade, with one either retreating into the shadows while encasing herself in a crystalline and resilient frost or rolling to the side of the road and using the Niese Face to alter his appearance.
When the intense sunlight eventually receded, they found that both the man suspected to be Loki and the āpasserbyā singing the aria had vanished into thin air.
Fearful glances from vendors and passersby were directed their way. Those closest to the spectacle had shut their eyes tightly, tears streaming down their faces.
Ā
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