259 Awe
Hugues Artois’s initial reaction was one of surprise and confusion as he beheld the glimmering silver light emanating from the long-handled fork, thrusting menacingly towards him.
He found it hard to fathom that someone would attempt to assassinate him, a well-protected member of parliament, under these circumstances.
The assassin didn’t appear particularly formidable.
Despite being a retired veteran, he had left military service five years ago to pursue a career in politics. His combat skills were no longer honed. With the adversary a mere step apart, evading the attack effectively seemed impossible.
Disregarding him, even a Sequence 9 or even a Sequence 8 Beyonder would likely struggle to dodge a Mighty Blow from an Assassin, especially one who had stealthily approached them. It all depended on whether their abilities could help them avoid vital areas or reduce the damage, thus preventing instant death.
Naturally, some Sequence 8 or 9 Beyonders possessed the ability to sense danger or hostility ahead of time, thwarting the approach and attack of Assassins.
In an instant, Hugues Artois cast his gaze upon the red-haired Cassandra, the three official Beyonders, and his subordinates Rhône, Margaret, and Boduva, feeling intense fear grip him.
However, what met his eyes was Cassandra’s red hair—her body and line of sight obscured by the mixed-blood Imre—as well as the calm and indifferent gazes of the official Beyonders, Imre and Antoine. Valentine had reacted immediately but restrained himself, and Rhône, Margaret, and Boduva, though eager to use their Beyonder powers to save him, dared not expose their boons obtained from the evil gods.
At that moment, Hugues Artois was overwhelmed by a profound sense of despair.
You all, save me!
Save me!
With a squelching sound, the long-handled silver fork plunged mercilessly into Hugues Artois’s right eye, propelled with all the force Jenna could muster. It pierced through the eye socket, penetrating the brain, with only a small portion of the handle protruding outside.
Hugues Artois’s thoughts became hazy.
He yearned to reach out and grasp something, but his arm wouldn’t even rise.
I haven’t become president… I haven’t witnessed the arrival of great existences… I haven’t received the boon of godhood… I cannot die like this… Slain by a feeble Assassin… I-I don’t wish to perish… A barrage of thoughts flashed through Hugues Artois’s mind as gunshots resounded in his ears.
His body slumped to the ground, and darkness enveloped his vision once more.
Thud. Hugues Artois, member of parliament for Le Marché du Quartier du Gentleman, collapsed onto the ground, his heart ceasing to beat.
Jenna, her eyes shut and a smile adorning her face, was struck by bullets fired by nearby Bureau 7 agents.
One bullet struck her shoulder, and another pierced her ribs from the opposite side.
The pain contorted her expression instinctively. Her body involuntarily recoiled, as if she wished to curl up into a protective ball.
She opened her eyes and beheld Rhône and the other devotees of the evil gods glaring at her with hatred and an unnatural panic, yet refraining from attacking.
In the next instant, a golden revolver, its chamber loaded, pressed against Jenna’s head. Imre surveyed the room and declared, “I have already subdued the assassin. Verify if Monsieur Member of Parliament can be saved and maintain order. No one should leave for the time being.”
He made it clear that he intended to escort Jenna back to Église Saint-Robert or inquire on the spot about the motive behind the assassination and the mastermind, preventing Cassandra and the others from venting their rage.
…
As the Tree of Shadow descended, the various streets reverted to their original state, yet they remained engulfed in wilderness.
Lumian perceived that Susanna Mattise could no longer stir his desires from a distance as she did before. So, he turned around, intending to confront Charlotte first.
The crimson flames enveloping his body burned with intensity, scorching his garments and searing his skin and flesh to varying degrees, inflicting constant pain.
This torment stimulated his mind, allowing him to maintain a certain level of clarity. He could also rely on the endurance bestowed by the Alms Monk boon to sustain his thoughts and actions, instead of merely focusing on enduring the agony.
Even for Pyromaniacs, such incineration posed a threat. Moreover, as time passed, the damage would worsen, eventually endangering their lives.
Of course, long before that point, Lumian’s spirituality would likely crumble. He could only allow the flames to extinguish on their own.
Were it not for the Alms Monk boon and the internal struggle within the Tree of Shadow, his spirituality would have been strained by the self-immolation.
Upon seeing Lumian turn and observe “Red Boots” Franca dashing toward her with a brass classic revolver, sliding across a layer of frost formed beneath her feet, Charlotte abandoned her plans for a surprise attack. Instead, she readied herself to return to the Tree of Shadow, where she could exploit the environment and enhance her abilities to confront the enemy.
Her body instantaneously grew pliable, as though secreting a slimy substance.
She “acted” as a serpent-like creature, utilizing the intertwining vines and branches to swiftly retreat toward the brownish-green tree.
At that moment, Charlotte’s body froze.
It was akin to facing a dragon head-on, confronting a predator at the apex of the biological hierarchy. She couldn’t help but tremble with fear and overwhelming panic.
She circled her immediate vicinity and ran haphazardly, as if fleeing from an unseen adversary.
Not far from her, Anthony Reid, the information broker, emerged from behind an iron-black gas street lamp post, suspended by the vines and branches of the Auberge du Coq Doré.
At some point, his dark brown eyes had transformed into a pale golden hue, adopting a vertical orientation.
He was a Psychiatrist, a Sequence 7 Psychiatrist of the Spectator pathway.
He had just employed Awe!
In ancient times, it was referred to as Dragon Might!
The brownish-green vines and branches surrounding Anthony Reid, manipulated by Susanna rather than the Tree of Shadow, cowered and retreated from him.
Observing Charlotte’s descent into madness and confusion, rendering her unable to evade Lumian’s attacks, Susanna, who desperately absorbed vitality, narrowed her eyes and cursed, unable to conceal her deep-seated hatred.
“You shall all perish. Today, you shall all meet your demise!”
Swoosh! Swoosh! Swoosh! On the Tree of Shadow, new tree trunks distinct from the main body shot forth like javelins, aimed at impaling Lumian in the midst of the wilderness.
Apart from utilizing the abilities of the Fallen Tree Spirit, Susanna Mattise had not yet regained sufficient strength to affect targets dozens or even nearly a hundred meters away.
Lumian had foreseen this. With a roll, he positioned himself within the area where Charlotte aimlessly fled.
Thud! Thud! Thud! The tree trunk javelins impaled the ground nearby, pounding the wilderness like hammers.
Lumian rose to his feet, engulfed in crimson flames. He extended his arms slightly and let out a boisterous laugh.
“Bring it on, kill me!”
If Susanna were to blanket the area with relentless assaults once again, he could still find a way to evade them. However, Charlotte, lost in her state of confusion, would undoubtedly meet her demise!
As he bellowed, half-illusory crimson Fire Ravens materialized behind Lumian. They circled and traced multiple trajectories, fixating their sights on Charlotte Calvino.
The branches and vines on the ground surged wildly, swiftly ensnaring Charlotte, shielding her from harm.
A series of thunderous sounds resounded as the crimson Fire Ravens descended upon Charlotte, shattering tree branches and igniting vines, systematically stripping away layer after layer of the Actor’s outer shell.
Bang!
Franca, who had closed the distance, stepped in and extended her right hand, firmly squeezing the trigger.
An iron-black bullet flew from the classic brass revolver and struck Charlotte’s head with precision, piercing through the gap created by the Fire Ravens.
The enchanting, pure, and delicate visage instantly shattered, with red and white fluids splattering forth from her eyes, nose, and mouth.
With only its severed head remaining, the lifeless body stumbled a few steps in confusion before finally collapsing to the ground.
“Go to hell!” Susanna roared.
With that cry, brown branches, green vines, thick limbs, and pale-colored blossoms surged forth in a multitude of forms, converging upon Lumian, Franca, and Anthony.
Despite the nightmarish scene unfolding before them, Lumian sensed no immediate peril.
Until Susanna Mattise regained a certain level of strength, an attack that consumed a significant amount of spirituality posed no true threat.
Lumian charged forward once more, carrying the crimson flames that devoured his flesh, venturing deeper into the primordial forest-like setting.
Vines ignited, flowers turned to ash, branches charred, yet none impeded the enemy’s advance toward the Tree of Shadow.
Suddenly, the objects recoiled, drawing the suspended human captives back into the embrace of the Tree of Shadow.
Susanna had thought it through. There was no need to squander energy merely to vent her rage. It was wiser to await the approach of the three prey, luring them into the range where desire could take hold, before employing her most formidable abilities to deal with them.
She could not accept her current weakness. That was one of the reasons why she refrained from invoking the incantation to seek assistance initially.
Before dragging the offering into the Tree of Shadow, the Son of God dared not reveal Himself in Trier. In the future, Susanna possessed a measure of confidence and needed to push the offering to a certain extent, securing the protection of the ritual. Only then could she utilize her fusion with the Tree of Shadow to confront the Son of God.
The Son of God was astonishingly deranged. He would never restrain the corruption He might inflict upon His subordinates.
As for Lady Moon, she had merely pledged to intercept potential saboteurs temporarily. Susanna dared not permit devotees of other deities to enter the Tree of Shadow.
Thud, thud, thud. Lumian raced through the abruptly vacated wilderness and dilapidated streets, sprinting toward the brownish-green tree. Franca and Anthony each selected their respective angles of attack and followed suit from different directions.
The fortunate vendors, pedestrians, and tenants who had yet to be ensnared by the branches and vines seized the opportunity to flee the wilderness, making their way towards the outskirts.
