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702 Fate Appropriator
Before Lumian had a chance to say anything, Franca eagerly recounted the events involving the Underworld Daoist during the Dream Festival.
She said excitedly, “The interaction between our two worlds is even more intricate than I had imagined!”
“Who would have thought there was another point of interaction beyond the Samaritan Women’s Spring, and it’s all tied to that mysterious illusory river.”
Silently, Franca mused, It’s a shame we still haven’t located the man believed to be from our world who was seen on the fourth level of the catacombs
 Seriously, what’s taking 007, no—the Eternal Blazing Sun Church so long? They haven’t even tracked down the traitor who worked with April Fool’s

Once Franca had finished speaking, Lumian provided a concise explanation of the origins of the black ancient tomb and the ancient corpse.
Hela, still in her black widow attire, listened intently, gently nodding her head.
“It’s now evident that the illusory river isn’t a reference to the River Styx. It must be something far more significant than that.”
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“Absolutely.” Lumian wasn’t caught off guard by Hela’s statement. “The black ancient tomb doesn’t just embody the power of the Death pathway; it also represents the Evernight and Warrior pathways.”
In the current world, all the legends surrounding the River Styx were connected to death.
Lumian speculated that this might involve beings such as the Celestial Worthy of Heaven and Earth for Blessings, the Mother Tree of Desire, and the Great Mother, who held multiple thrones linked to various pathways.
Hela glanced at Franca, falling silent for a moment before speaking.
“If the Armored Shadow is right, the Underworld Daoist is in a precarious state. If you intend to interact with Him, you must exercise extreme caution and ensure you have an escape route from the corresponding area.”
The Armored Shadow had described the Underworld Daoist as having “sacrificed himself to enter the river,” implying the sacrifice of one’s physical form or life.
“I understand.” Franca let out a sigh. “I’ll give this matter more thought once I reach Sequence 5.”
As she sighed, a smug thought crossed her mind, The Pleasure potion has been largely digested lately. Even without additional opportunities, I can start preparing for the Demoness of Affliction’s advancement ritual within two to three months
 I need to begin gathering the necessary potion ingredients now

I can’t mention it, I mustn’t mention it—I can’t let Lumian know. Bragging would make me seem crass and disrespectful to Jenna

Lumian’s curious gaze alternated between Hela and Franca a couple of times.
He sensed that Madame Hela had something crucial to tell Franca but refrained from doing so.
It was rare for Lumian to perceive Madame Hela as having something on her mind. Her glance at Franca and few seconds of silence gave him the impression of hesitancy.
Regrettably, Franca often has a carefree nature and doesn’t pay much attention to details. Otherwise, she might be able to extract some information from her through direct questioning
 Lumian’s mind raced, and he concluded that if Madame Hela chose not to say anything at this point, she must have her reasons. Thus, he suppressed his curiosity and gestured towards the front of the dilapidated palace.
“I’ll get the ritual ready.”
“Sounds good,” Franca responded with enthusiasm.
While she had witnessed Lumian acquire Ascetic powers, that had taken place in Fourth Epoch Trier. A myriad of dangers had intertwined, causing her to shudder with fear. She had to maintain constant vigilance of her surroundings, unable to “appreciate” the situation with the same level of ease as she could now.
After a moment of contemplation, Lumian retrieved a metal canister from a hidden pocket and tossed it to Franca.
“If things start going poorly for me later on, forcefully break through the wall of spirituality and throw this in front of me or on me.”
“Should I unscrew the cap for you?” Franca asked, a smile playing on her lips.
“What do you think?” Lumian arched an eyebrow.
“Naturally,” Franca replied, her smile unwavering. “I’m just trying to lighten the mood. I want you to feel at ease.”
“I appreciate it!” Lumian turned and made his way to the massive stone chair in the depths of the ancient palace.
His intuition suggested that the huge, mottled stone chair might have a connection to Mr. Fool.
This would enable him to draw Mr. Fool’s attention during the impending ritual.
As Franca and Hela watched Lumian arrange the corresponding items on the stone chair, setting it up as an altar and placing a Loen gold pound reverently in front of the grayish-white candle symbolizing the deity, Hela calmly remarked, “Don’t be concerned about not receiving a response. The secrets will remain secret, while the rest will be revealed.”
Lumian felt himself relax as he consecrated the ritual silver dagger, erecting a wall of spirituality.
The voices of Franca and Hela faded into the background, as if emanating from a great distance.
Rather than rushing into the ritual, Lumian lowered his voice and proactively provoked Termiboros.
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“I’m about to extract your power once more. Any thoughts on the matter?”
He aimed to enrage Termiboros to a certain degree. Only then might Termiboros inadvertently expose any concealed issues in His response, allowing Lumian to discern whether this Inevitability Angel was secretly plotting something.
The sooner he uncovered it, the sooner he could address it and find a resolution!
Termiboros’s imposing voice resonated.
“The further you venture, the closer you draw to the end. This is an inevitability—irreversible.”
“Is that how you console yourself?” Lumian scoffed at Termiboros’s enigmatic behavior.
Termiboros’s voice reverberated within Lumian’s body.
“Boons bring the recipient closer to the bestower. You may believe you’re extracting my power, but in truth, you’re steadily aligning your fate with mine, becoming more and more like me.
“This grants me glimpses through your eyes and your fate.
“You and I are merely bugs ensnared by fate. Apart from the greatest of existences, all living beings share this commonality.
“In the near future, you will come to understand: “Death is the end of all things, and madness is an eternal melody.”
That’s essentially the same as saying nothing
 Is Termiboros implying that I will face a setback in the near future? Lumian chuckled and said, “Are you deliberately saying this to make me obtain the power of a Fate Appropriator while burdened with worry and fear, hoping I’ll die here?
“Don’t concern yourself. Death and madness won’t deter me.”
Without awaiting Termiboros’s reply, Lumian fixed his gaze upon the candle flame and recited in a deep, resonant voice, “Power of Inevitability!
“You are the past, the present, and the future;
“You are the cause, the effect, and the process;
“
”
As the ritual progressed, Franca and Hela bore witness to the transformation of all the items on the altar. Stones softened, candles expanded, and the ground decayed into a swamp. Countless strange insects loomed in the void.
The darkness outside the dilapidated palace intensified. A silver-black liquid flowed from Lumian’s chest, enveloping him like corrupted mercury.
Lumian writhed in agony. Throughout this process, his body alternated between contortion and normalcy, occasionally assuming postures that defied human anatomy. It was as though he were boneless, his skin and flesh infused with mercury.
Franca was startled and experienced an inexplicable, illusory pain.
Amidst the excruciating and familiar pain, Lumian caught sight of Aurore.
Aurore, with her thick, long blond hair, was attempting the Soul Summoning Spell!
Lumian stepped forward and intervened, stopping Aurore.
Just as he rejoiced in the belief that the problem had been nipped in the bud and Aurore wouldn’t fracture into the evil personality of Roche Louise Sanson, he was horrified to discover that Aurore’s body had undergone a drastic transformation. In a bloody state, she had expanded into a monster with three heads and six arms, sitting cross-legged.
Lumian witnessed Aurore seeking assistance from Hela. Reluctantly, he offered his help, preventing his sister from forgetting this matter. However, when Hela arrived, Aurore had already transformed into a colossal three-headed, six-armed monster, despite the final ritual not having been performed.
Aurore, at various stages of life, appeared before Lumian. They were on the verge of making pivotal choices.
Lumian desperately tried to alter the Aurores’ fates and prevent them from descending into the abyss. However, each time, although he managed to redirect fate to another tributary, Aurore’s spirit and flesh ultimately crumbled, transforming her into a three-headed, six-armed monster.
Is this inevitability? Is this an irreversible outcome? Lumian’s eyes turned bloodshot as he made increasingly futile efforts.
At that instant, he caught a whiff of an elegant and sweet scent, and a soothing chant echoed in his ears.
Lumian quickly regained his senses and clarity of mind.
The Aurores before him abruptly vanished, leaving only the quietly burning candle flames.
Instinctively, Lumian glanced behind him and realized that Franca and Hela were nearby. The wall of spirituality had been shattered.
Simultaneously, Franca observed the flickering silver and iron-
black colors in Lumian’s eyes before they merged and settled into a silvery-black hue.
Lumian exhaled, recognizing that he had evaded danger and successfully acquired the power of a Fate Appropriator.
Yet, a profound sense of frustration and disappointment lingered within him.
What he had just experienced in the illusion seemed to foretell the ultimate outcome of his desire to resurrect Aurore.
After ten to twenty seconds, Lumian finally broke free from those emotions and regained his determination.
How could anyone give up without even trying!
Franca breathed a sigh of relief, screwed the cap back on, and asked with a smile, “How did it go? Any new abilities?”
You really don’t consider yourself an outsider. How can you nonchalantly inquire about someone’s new Beyonder powers? Lumian silently criticized Franca as he meticulously observed his transformation.
His eyes, which had just returned to normal, once again turned silvery-black, reflecting the images of Franca and Hela.
Then, he perceived the mercury-colored illusory river that corresponded to the two ladies. He saw the sparkling light representing their past and present river trunks and the numerous tributaries that had branched off from the present.
The illusory river slowly advanced, devouring all the tributaries, leaving only one behind, transforming it into the main bulk. The main bulk continued to split into new tributaries

Lumian noticed that one of the tributaries, regardless of whether it belonged to Franca or Hela, emitted a faint black hue.