Chapter 56 - 56 Intuition

56 Intuition

The more Aurore ruminated on the matter, the more her suspicions intensified.

How could the powerless Guillaume Bénet possibly subdue the mighty Pierre Berry, who possessed no less than supernatural abilities?

If the padre was indeed favored by the clandestine force to the extent that his clique considered him their leader, he should have been bestowed with a boon long ago and elevated above the common masses.

Should he decline the boon, he would inevitably face ostracism.

In these circumstances, his standing, authority, and machinations paled in comparison to his might or the gulf that separated him from divinity.

Aurore lacked the luxury of time to ponder this and could only conceive of two plausible explanations.

Either Guillaume Bénet was not the true leader of the small group and was merely exploiting his status to orchestrate and conceal the anomaly from the Eternal Blazing Sun Church in Dariège.

Or, he was not rejecting the boon but merely biding his time to attain greater power.

Neither explanation boded well.

Aurore directed her gaze at the three sheep and inquired, “Who was the man that accompanied Pierre Berry in his assault on you?”

The three sheep scribbled down their responses.

“Niort Best.”

“A shepherd named Niort.”

“He goes by the name Niort.”

Niort Best too has achieved extraordinary power? Aurore was acquainted with the individual in question.

Niort was a fellow shepherd from Cordu who frequently grazed his flock alongside Pierre Berry. But he had seemingly not returned early this time.

“Where is Niort? I did not spot him in the village,” Aurore queried.

The three sheep moved a few steps away and found a new patch of unmarked soil on which to write.

“He’s dead.”

“I killed him.”

“We took him out, but we were apprehended.”

Had he fallen victim to a counterattack? Aurore nodded pensively.

“Are all of you Beyonders?”

The three sheep ceased writing Highlander with their hooves and nodded in assent.

Aurore acknowledged them tersely as she raced to process the implications.

Pierre Berry and Niort Best are hunting Beyonders. What is their motive?

And one of them is now dead…

Either Niort’s abilities paled in comparison to Pierre’s, or they had acquired their powers through the boon and were far from proficient in wielding them. It was certain that the Beyonder battles would encounter complications…

Aurore glanced at the three sheep once more and asked, “Do you know why Pierre captured you?”

The three sheep resumed writing.

“I have heard him speak of God and devotion.”

“It may be for a blood sacrifice.”

“I suspect he wants to offer us as a sacrifice to an evil god.”

Indeed, Beyonders possess remarkably high spirituality and unique characteristics. They are far superior to ordinary mortals as sacrificial offerings, and they can appease malevolent gods more effectively… Pierre Berry and Niort Best were using grazing sheep as a ruse to abduct Beyonders from other countries to offer them up as sacrifices? It is a scheme that can easily evade the local authorities’ notice… Aurore nodded imperceptibly.

She spoke solemnly, “Did Pierre mention the honorific name of that god? Or rather, who were they praying to during the ritual that transformed you into sheep?”

The three sheep were taken aback, as if they were awash in recollections.

Suddenly, they lowered their heads and extended their hooves towards the soil before them.

For some inexplicable reason, Aurore felt that the temperature had plummeted, and the sun had been obscured by dark clouds, as a chilly mountain breeze swept past.

The three sheep began writing.

Aurore’s spiritual intuition sounded a powerful alarm, prompting her to bellow, “Hold on!”

The three sheep lifted their heads and looked at her.

At some point, blood-red tears had welled up in their eyes, and their fur was stained and ghastly.

In the next moment, they resumed writing.

Aurore whirled around and dashed towards the fence.

As she exited the pen and looked back, the three sheep were bathed in the sunlight.

If not for the bloodstains on their faces, everything seemed entirely ordinary.

Thump, thump… Aurore’s heart continued pounding.

Panting heavily, she breathed a sigh of relief.

If I had not learned to seal my sight and glimpsed things I should not have seen, I would not have reacted in time…

She produced a vial of iron-black powder and scattered it over the sheep pen.

The words etched in the soil vanished as though by an unseen hand.

As for the stains on the sheep’s faces, Aurore found it challenging to expunge them using spells, so she refrained from approaching them and merely washed them away with water.

She feared that the three sheep were different from before and harbored latent dangers.

…

In Ol’ Tavern, Lumian sat at the bar, sipping on light-green absinthe, his right elbow propped up casually as he surveyed the room.

He searched for the mysterious lady, but she was nowhere to be seen, nor were Ryan, Leah, and Valentine.

Lumian knew not when the former would arrive, and as for the latter three, he assumed they were wandering the village, engaging in idle chatter.

Pierre Berry, who had just finished his glass of absinthe, picked up a new pale green liquid and babbled, “I had a chance to get married.”

“Is that so?” Lumian scoffed, “Who would fancy a shepherd?”

Pierre sighed and replied, “Most of the pastures we graze in are owned by manor owners or nearby villages. If we want to graze, we have to pay a ranch tax or marry a village girl and settle down there.”

Lumian smiled. “That’s a good thing for a shepherd.”

Pierre took a sip of absinthe and glanced sideways at Lumian.

“That girl must fancy you and not ask for dowry.

“At one time, a lady thought I was not bad and didn’t mind that I was a pauper and a shepherd. She was willing to marry me. Was she very foolish?”

“Yes.” Lumian nodded “honestly.”

Pierre took another sip of absinthe and was silent for a long time before saying, “Later, she died. She worked in a factory in the suburbs and fell ill due to exhaustion. I went to several cathedrals, got the priests to pray for her, and found doctors to treat her, but it was useless. After that day, I realized something.”

Lumian asked, taking a swig of absinthe, “What was it?”

Resentment flashed across Pierre’s face as he replied, “Those who possess flesh and excrete from their posterior cannot absolve us of our predicament!”

Lumian asked, “So, those without flesh and those who do not excrete from their posterior are acceptable?”

Pierre chuckled. “Those are saints and angels, but will they deign to look at us?”

Lumian tsked. “Then why did you go to the cathedral to seek the padre’s counsel? Not only does he possess flesh and excrete from his posterior, but he also indulges in the carnal pleasures with women.”

Pierre turned his head towards Lumian and cast a sidelong glance.

“You fail to comprehend. He possesses a certain intellectuality that can redeem our souls.”

“Intellectuality?” Lumian struggled to grasp the term.

Pierre took another sip of his light-green absinthe, seemingly oblivious to the question.

Lumian dared not press the matter further, and instead inquired, “I heard that you visited the cathedral at noon. Why did you return in the afternoon?”

Pierre’s warm smile illuminated his face as he replied, “In the afternoon, one can converse with like-minded individuals.”

He did not deny that he had visited the cathedral at noon.

Lumian breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that for the time being, no one else would retain their memories and disrupt the flow of history.

He suspected that Pierre Berry had visited the cathedral at noon to confer with the padre in advance of their small group discussion scheduled for the afternoon.

After their libations and with the sun setting on the horizon, Lumian and Pierre Berry bid each other farewell and returned to their respective abodes.

Pons Bénet, the padre’s younger brother, abruptly emerged with a few thugs and obstructed Lumian’s way upon him reaching a secluded path.

The brawny, raven-haired, azure-eyed Pons Bénet stared at Lumian and smirked maliciously.

“You were good at pranks in ze afternoon, no? Wasting our time in ze cathedral. If ze padre wasn’t there, I would have beaten you up, eh! Bastard, come and eat Daddy Pons’s XX.”

Initially taken aback by this imbecile’s foolishness, Lumian was elated.

His and Aurore’s judgment was correct. In the previous cycle, Pons Bénet likely hadn’t acquired supernatural abilities before Naroka’s funeral and thus had no sense of danger.

He had actually dared to obstruct a Beyonder’s path!

Without hesitation, Lumian turned and bolted, with Pons and his thugs in hot pursuit.

However, as soon as they exited the trail between two buildings, they lost sight of their quarry.

Pons Bénet scanned his surroundings and ordered his subordinates, “Spread out and search.”

He deemed it impossible for Lumian to have fled so swiftly and believed he was hiding nearby.

The thugs dispersed and combed the area for any potential hideouts, leaving Pons Bénet alone at the trail’s entrance.

Lumian, who had ascended to the second floor of the adjacent building, chuckled and leapt towards Pons.

Bang!

Pons was sent hurtling to the ground with tremendous force, gasping for breath and momentarily incapacitated.

Had Lumian not restrained himself and struck him directly, he might have broken several bones.

Lumian stood up, clasped Pons’s forearms, and smiled at him, saying, “Come, let us become better acquainted.”

Before Pons could offer any resistance, Lumian pulled him into his embrace and kneed him.

Pons’s eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets, and his face twisted in agony.

Thud!

Lumian released him, allowing the man to crumple to the ground like a shrimp.

He then turned and darted down the trail, vanishing from sight before the thugs returned.

…

In the kitchen, which also doubled as a part-time living and dining area, Lumian updated his sister on his situation.

“Pierre Berry visited the cathedral in the afternoon… It’s confirmed that Pons Bénet still lacks any superpowers.”

Aurore nodded slightly and recounted her own experience, particularly the inexplicable danger at the end.

Lumian pondered for a moment before remarking, “That enigmatic lady claimed that certain entities might corrupt you merely by acknowledging Their existence.”

Chapter end