Chapter 22

Mrs. Pulis didn't chat with Aurore for long; after a few minutes, they came out of the study.

Lumian accompanied his sister, seeing Mrs. Pulis off to the front door.

He then turned to Aurore:

"What did she ask you to do?"

Aurore pouted and said:

"She asked me to lead the singing at the Praise Festival, but I refused."

The Lenten season in Cordu Village has three parts: the "Spring Spirit" blessing parade, the water ritual, and the Praise Festival held in the church, which mainly involves instrumental performances and a large choir.

In the Daliège region, the lead singers are often from the church choir, but Cordu Village lacks this condition, so they have to find someone skilled in singing to take the lead.

As for the instrumental performances, the villagers are not worried. In a village with a tradition of shepherds, music or instruments are an essential part of daily life.

Shepherds spend most of their time outdoors, living in huts or digging holes in the ground. Besides their companions and flocks, the only thing they frequently interact with is the flute they carry.

Apart from herding, playing cards, and chatting, playing the flute to soothe their hearts is something almost every shepherd does.

Thus, a common phrase to describe a shepherd in a difficult and impoverished situation is "he doesn't even have a flute."

With so many shepherds around, other villagers in Cordu Village are inevitably influenced. When they gather in the square to chat, someone will inevitably play an instrument, filling the air with melodious tunes.

"Hmm." Seeing his sister's firm resolve, Lumian felt quite reassured.

Those festivals are just for entertainment; being the main attraction not only wastes time but also invites unnecessary attention.

To protect his eyesight, Lumian only read for a while under the kerosene lamp before washing up and going to bed. He seriously considered how to safely test what special abilities he might have in his dreams.

The lady's suggestions had been so accurate that he instinctively trusted her completely.

In the dead of night, Lumian once again entered his dream, waking up there.

He felt his pockets, habitually counting the 217 fergins and 25 copecks he had earned, confirming they were still there.

Relieved, Lumian picked up his axe and steel fork, hurriedly went downstairs, and headed straight for the stove.

The fire had already gone out.

"When I'm not dreaming, the clock here still keeps ticking..." Lumian frowned slightly.

In such a "real" dream, how could he have any special abilities?

"—'The clock still keeps ticking' is a saying in the Daliège region, meaning time never stops, always flowing forward."

Lumian returned to what he considered the safest bedroom, put down his axe and steel fork, and quickly took off his clothes.

Then, he walked to the full-length mirror attached to the wardrobe, examining his body inch by inch to see if there were any differences from reality.

There was nothing unusual.

"Special in a mental sense?" Lumian didn't rush to put on his clothes; he walked back to the bed and sat cross-legged, imitating his sister.

Previously, to help him achieve a lucid dream, Aurore had taught him some basic meditation techniques that didn't involve mystical elements. He now wanted to try them to see if he could detect any special mental or physical traits in a completely calm state.

The first step was to regulate his breathing.

Lumian deepened his breath and slowed its frequency.

With each slow, rhythmic breath, he gradually emptied his mind.

At the same time, he visualized a crimson sun in his mind, focusing all his attention and thoughts on it to block out other distracting thoughts.

This was something Aurore had specifically instructed, telling him to always choose a real, light-filled object to visualize during meditation to avoid attracting any unclean or evil entities.

As a devotee of the "Eternal Sun," Lumian's first thought was to visualize the sun.

His mind gradually calmed, and the entire world in his perception seemed to be reduced to that crimson sun.

Suddenly, Lumian heard a sound.

It seemed to come from an infinite height, yet it also sounded as if it was right next to his ear, indistinct yet thunderous.

The indescribable humming made Lumian's heart race, and his head felt as if it had been pierced by an iron rod and stirred forcefully.

Intense pain erupted instantly, the sun turned blood-red, and quickly darkened.

The image in his meditation shattered.

Lumian's eyes snapped open, and he gasped for breath, feeling as if he were about to die.

It took him several seconds to recover from the near-death experience.

Instinctively, he lowered his head to examine his body.

He saw something strange on his left chest.

Some deep black, thorn-like symbols seemed to have grown from his heart, connecting one after another in a chain that extended to his back.

Above these "thorns" were patterns resembling eyes and twisted lines, all in a dark greenish-black color.

These tattoo-like marks were slowly fading.

Lumian was first startled, then had many thoughts.

He quickly got out of bed and rushed to the full-length mirror, positioning his back to it.

Then, he strained to turn his head to the left to check his back.

He barely saw the chain of black "thorns" re-entering his body at the back.

In other words, this "thorn" chain encircled his heart and the corresponding part of his body.

"The black and dark greenish-black are two different symbols. The dark greenish-black ones feel familiar, hmm... they are similar to those on the old man I helped when I was wandering... That's when I started having dreams with thick fog..." Lumian analyzed the "special" marks on his body that were different from reality, until they completely faded and disappeared.

Seeing this, Lumian felt quite disappointed.

Although he had found something special, he felt it was meaningless.

The process of bringing them out was extremely painful, almost fatal.

In such a state, facing the monster with the hunting rifle and feeding it would be no different.

And if he waited until he had the strength to fight again, the "special" marks would be about to disappear.

The climate in the dream was quite cold, like early spring in the mountains. Lumian felt uncomfortable being naked and quickly put on his clothes.

Just doing this simple task left him extremely exhausted, and his head started to ache again.

Clearly, the impact of the meditation was not something that could be quickly recovered from.

In this situation, Lumian decided to give up exploring for the night, not to try again, and to get a good night's sleep and rest properly.

...

...

When he woke up, it was still dark outside.

Looking at the darkness in the room and the faint crimson light near the curtains, Lumian carefully recalled what had happened in the dream.

"I've meditated many times in reality and never heard that strange sound or felt any pain...

"Is it only in that dream that there is something special?" Lumian sat up, puzzled, and decided to confirm it.

He followed the procedure again, attempting to meditate.

The crimson sun quickly appeared in his mind, and his mental chaos gradually settled.

This was a familiar meditation experience for Lumian, with no strange sounds, intense pain, or near-death experiences.

After a while, he ended his meditation, unbuttoned his shirt, and examined his heart area.

There was not a single symbol there.

"Indeed, it's a special aspect of the dream, not affecting reality..." Lumian didn't know whether to be happy or disappointed.

He lifted his head, looked at the window covered by the curtains, and his thoughts wandered, considering whether the "special" aspect of the dream could be utilized and how.

At that moment, he saw a small black shadow outside the window.

Lumian's pupils dilated, and he became highly alert.

His first instinct was to call his sister, but he then remembered that he was at home, and Aurore had said she would watch over him. She must have noticed something, so he carefully got out of bed and slowly approached the window.

Throughout this process, Lumian was ready for his sister to stop him at any moment.

Aurore did not appear.

Lumian reached the window, grabbed the curtain, and cautiously pulled it open a crack.

Outside was a quiet, deep night, with a crimson moon hanging far in the sky.

On a nearby elm tree, a large owl was perched, staring at Lumian's window.

It was larger than most of its kind, with lively, non-stiff eyes that gave a sense of condescension as it looked at Lumian.

That owl!

It's back!

Lumian's heart raced.

The owl, just like last time, stared at Lumian for a few seconds, then spread its wings and flew into the darkness.

"..." Lumian was speechless.

After a while, he pulled the curtain open and muttered:

"Are you crazy?

"Coming to look every time, just looking, and then leaving without a word!

"Are you mute, or is your intelligence lacking, not having learned human language in all these years?"

Actually, Lumian had his own suspicions about the owl's actions, thinking that his sister's presence made it hesitant to do anything. After all, Aurore had said that as long as he stayed in the building at night, he would be safe. If he had impulsively stuck his head out the window, the owl probably wouldn't have flown away so calmly.

After a while, Lumian decided to pull the curtain and get some more sleep.

His gaze casually swept outside and suddenly froze.

About ten meters away, at the edge of a small forest, a figure was slowly walking by.

She wore a dark, coarse dress, with sparse, white hair.

"Naroka..." Lumian recognized the figure.

It was Naroka, the one he had previously asked about the witch legend.

Naroka's face seemed half-melted into the darkness, her eyes reflecting a strange light under the faint crimson moon, and her movements were abnormally stiff, like a wandering ghost.

PS: Thank you, Black Night Yuli, for the silver alliance donation.