Lord of Mysteries 2: Circle of Inevitability - Chapter 1146

Chapter 1146: Wishing You Joy

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“Begin,” the rich voice of Round Moon Duke Olmer echoed from within the tomb.

The Moon Emlyn hummed in acknowledgment, erected a wall of spirituality, and began the ritual following standard summoning protocols. He lit candles and offered his sacrifice—a glass of absinthe shimmering with a dreamy green hue.

Taking two steps back, he recited the first verse of the incantation in ancient Hermes, “I!”

As his voice reverberated, The Moon Emlyn broke from convention and continued the chant in ancient Hermes rather than switching to Hermes.

“I summon in my name:”

He stretched out his hands, and with the chant, conjured a phantom door inscribed with countless mysterious symbols amidst the expanding candle flames.

Then, Emlyn uttered the honorific name of the entity he was summoning, “The Demoness wielding Chaos, the Many-Faced One who offers sacrifices to Calamity, and the Ruler of the Mirror World.”

He deliberately avoided the part of the honorific name—”Symbol of War and Apocalypse”—as summoning a true god-level existence through the Door of Summoning might naturally affect the surroundings. The “Apocalypse” aspect was particularly unwelcome for the aged and frail Round Moon Duke Olmer and his peers.

Hearing the three titles uttered by Emlyn, the surrounding Sanguine marquises displayed puzzled expressions.

Isn’t the first line associated with the Primordial Demoness?

And who does the other two lines refer to?

I’ve never heard of the Primordial Demoness being called the Ruler of the Mirror World…

Did something happen in the World of Ruins? Did the Primordial Demoness’s honorific name change?

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Is Emlyn attempting to summon the Primordial Demoness?

Could he possibly be summoning a true god?

Isn’t the Primordial Demoness barred from entering the protected zone? Haw Emlyn been bewitched into summoning Her to destabilize the zone?

The Sanguine marquises, alarmed and wary, were about to recite the honorific names of other true gods for protection when the mystical and hazy Door of Summoning abruptly swung open. Beyond the door lay a profound darkness, studded with countless stars and filled with innumerable indistinct phantoms.

Six massive hands suddenly emerged from within, gripping the doorframe itself.

Some were delicate and beautiful, with flawless white skin, while others were robust, with clearly defined joints, exuding masculine strength. Each set of hands occupied one side of the doorway, squeezing it tightly, making it hard to fathom the size of the being they belonged to.

Some Sanguine marquises stared blankly at the pristine, elegant hands, their minds conjuring visions of the overwhelming beauty of their owner. Others felt as though the bronzed hands were pressing down on their heads from a distance, causing them to bow involuntarily, forgetting entirely what they had intended to do.

Around the Round Moon Duke’s tomb, the grass, grains, flowers, and insects all turned toward the Door of Summoning and prostrated themselves on the ground.

Finally, the six massive hands pushed the phantom Door of Summoning open as far as it would go, and a figure emerged.

In that instant, all the Sanguine present, including Round Moon Duke Olmer and The Moon Emlyn, saw themselves—sometimes with resentful expressions, sometimes with hostile gazes, sometimes appearing as they had in their youth.

These were their mirror reflections, originating from both the present and the past.

They also saw the ideal lover they had envisioned in their hearts, the most captivating member of the opposite sex.

Each of them became entranced, floating in a dreamlike state, as though reality itself had become unmoored.

It was unclear how much time had passed before they managed to regain a semblance of self-awareness. They found that the summoning ritual had long since concluded. The flames on the candles had shrunk back to their original size, flickering quietly.

The Moon Emlyn quickly examined himself and, unsurprisingly, confirmed that he had completely digested the High Summoner potion.

At that moment, the rich voice of Round Moon Duke Olmer came from within the tomb, “Whom exactly did you summon?”

The Moon Emlyn unconsciously lifted his chin slightly and replied, “An existence who has just ascended to become a dual-pathway true god.”

…

Trier, Quartier de la Maison d’Opéra, Rue du Chapeau Noir.

Niceea, with her brown curls pinned up, sat in the rocking chair of her apartment, idly swaying as she stared off into space.

Since the night of the crimson moon’s immense appearance, as though it had descended upon the earth, she had found herself with little to do.

Most of the core members of the Emperor Party had been arrested and purged, including her lover, Grouès, leading to the organization’s complete disintegration.

Her superior, Madame Franca, hadn’t assigned her any tasks either, merely instructing her to monitor the citizens in her vicinity and report any anomalies immediately.

With so much free time, Niceea had focused on digesting the Pleasure potion, flitting like a butterfly among her lovers. She even orchestrated situations where, despite knowing of each other’s existence, they endured the pain of rivalry, pretended ignorance, or quarreled yet remained unwilling to leave her.

This had led to her complete digestion of the Pleasure potion last month. However, her superior had not provided her with the formula or ingredients for the Affliction potion.

Do I need to make new contributions? But there haven’t been any tasks assigned… Also, why did all my mirrors just shatter? I must report this to Madame Franca; something is seriously wrong… Niceea thought, glancing at the drawn sheer curtains shielding her from the sunlight.

As these thoughts crossed her mind, she noticed that the glass window, now cracked as if struck by an invisible force, reflected the image of Madame Franca stepping out. She wore a ponytail and a hunter’s outfit.

Niceea didn’t immediately rise to greet her superior. She momentarily felt dazed, struck by the overwhelming beauty of Franca. Her superior had grown even more radiant—so mesmerizing that Niceea couldn’t look away, so beautiful it made her forget all her worries and everything else.

Several seconds passed before Niceea snapped out of her trance and hurriedly stood in greeting. “Good afternoon, Madame.”

“Good afternoon,” Franca responded with a smile.

Niceea was momentarily dazzled by that smile and blurted out, “Madame, have you advanced again?”

Franca didn’t hide it, nodding gently.

“I’m now an Angel, a Demoness of Catastrophe.”

An Angel… Niceea was left speechless.

She recalled that when she had first been assigned to Madame Franca’s command, her superior had been a Sequence 5 Demoness of Affliction, while she herself was a Sequence 7 Witch.

Now, she had only advanced one rank to become a Sequence 6 Demoness of Pleasure, but Franca had climbed several Sequences to reach Sequence 2 and become an Angel!

Could it be that advancing beyond Sequence 5 in the demigod realm was easier than advancing through lower ranks?

That’s impossible!

Noticing Niceea’s shocked and bewildered expression, Franca also felt a twinge of sentimentality.

Yes, it hasn’t been long, but now I’m a Demoness of Catastrophe.

But I’d rather return to the days when I was just a Demoness of Affliction…

As a Demoness of Catastrophe, Franca’s core ability now revolved around “catastrophes,” encompassing both natural and man-made calamities. This extended to certain authorities and abstract concepts.

Natural disasters like blizzards, tsunamis, earthquakes, meteor impacts, floods, volcanic eruptions, or the collapse of the mirror world could be conjured through her abilities. Similarly, train accidents, building collapses, horse stampedes, or accidental gun discharges—all events tied to societal order or mechanical constructs—fell within her purview as a Demoness of Catastrophe.

Additionally, when extended to authority and concepts, “catastrophe” could manifest as the inducement or exacerbation of issues to destabilize a previously stable system.

In such cases, if a Beyonder’s state was inherently unstable, a Demoness of Catastrophe could use Her abilities to induce them to lose balance and lose control on the spot. For the target, this was undoubtedly a catastrophe.

Franca understood this as an extension of the Red Priest pathway’s Weakness Investigation ability, reflected in a neighboring pathway.

When Lumian was still a Hunter, he could accurately grasp the structural integrity of a building and identify the key points to demolish it. A Demoness of Catastrophe, on the other hand, could treat Beyonders, areas, or natural environments as if they were such a structure or system, detonating their hidden issues and triggering catastrophic collapse.

When it came to disrupting stability and triggering catastrophe, the main difference between the two lay in their approach: a Hunter targeted weaknesses from the outside in, while a Demoness of Catastrophe worked primarily from the inside out—or combined both internal and external forces.

From this perspective, the Primordial Demoness was actually very restrained toward Lumian, who relied on the chaotic vortex face to gain the rank of a true god and maintain his existence and King of Angels power through a delicate balance. However, the problem was that the Primordial Demoness didn’t want Lumian to lose balance, lose control, and die. That would render all of Her previous efforts meaningless.

For this reason, the Primordial Demoness was willing to take risks and even face Her own demise by integrating Herself into Lumian’s body. After all, from Her perspective, Her consciousness and spirit would remain intact, simply surviving in a different form.

The catastrophes wielded by a Demoness of Catastrophe also manifested as curses of destiny. Franca could now create objects or leave behind words that, without directly contacting the target, cause those who touched the object or heard the words to encounter one catastrophe after another in their subsequent lives.

Her other abilities had also been correspondingly enhanced at the angelic level. For instance, her mystical pathogens could now erode and influence the bodies of complete Mythical Creatures.

Lost in these thoughts, Franca turned to Niceea, who had just regained control of her expression, and said, “I’m here today to tell you something.

“The Primordial Demoness has perished. Of the high-ranking color-named Demonesses, fewer than five have survived. The Demoness Sect has effectively been annihilated.”

“Ah?” Niceea momentarily forgot about her superior’s advancement to angelhood. “What about us? And the other Demonesses?”

The other Demonesses? Except for the high-ranking ones involved in the initial events in the mirror world, most Demonesses were incorporated into the protected zone. Subsequently, some were hunted down, some surrendered directly to official organizations, and others escaped the protected zone to rejoin the remnants of the Demoness Sect in the World of Ruins… If it weren’t for your past as a government informant and the fact that the digestion of your Assassin, Instigator, and Witch potions primarily targeted organizations like the Emperor Party, I wouldn’t have spared you… Franca smiled and said to Niceea, “We have nothing to worry about. I was one of those who destroyed the Demoness Sect.”

Niceea was stunned. She felt both surprised and unsurprised.

Madame Franca is a Saint of the Church of The Fool!

But if I know this, wouldn’t the Demoness of Black and others know as well?

“Madame, is there anything I should do?” Niceea quickly expressed her intention to continue her loyalty.

Franca smiled in response. “A month from now, I’ll have something for you to do. For now, you should rest well and adjust your state.

“Oh, and the honorific name of the Primordial Demoness can still be used, but it will now point to someone else—the one I currently follow.”

Who is that? Niceea didn’t dare to ask and instead inquired, “Madame, may I make my own arrangements for the next month?”

Franca looked at Niceea for several seconds before revealing a clean smile in the sunlight streaming through the sheer curtains.

“Yes, go on dates, bask in the sun, take walks along the Srenzo River, watch operas, read books, read newspapers, ride a bicycle, fish, sample the signature dishes of Trier’s famous restaurants, gather with friends—do everything you wish to do.”

At the end, Franca placed a hand over her chest and bowed slightly. “In short, I wish you joy.”

As her voice echoed, she disappeared into the interplay of light and shadow created by the sheer curtains.

Niceea stared blankly at the spot where Franca had stood, feeling both dazed and confused.