Lord of Mysteries 2: Circle of Inevitability

Chapter 1114 Omebella

As soon as Lumian’s feet steadied, the head on his left shoulder began to sway from side to side.

Whether it was the hauntingly beautiful yet morbid face of Cheek or the savage and crazed gaze of Alista Tudor, both seemed perplexed.

Their consciousness, spirit, personality, and spirituality, blended and tangled amidst the resurrection of the Primordial God Almighty, had become a jumble. Eventually, they separated into yin and yang, left and right, forming a new consciousness and spirit, though still marked distinctly by Cheek and Tudor.

These were ultimately sealed within the dark-golden peculiar mask of the yet-to-fully-revived Primordial God Almighty, allowing only instincts to seep through, each affecting the respective face.

Their instinctive reactions seemed to tell Lumian that this place was different from their memories or expectations.

This was the Blood Palace of Alista Tudor, the site of His ultimate downfall. It should have retained remnants of the leaked power of various sefirot, yet it appeared unusually “clean,” with only formless flames burning everywhere and evaporating black pus that perpetually dripped but never dried.

With the blood-red sigil on his brow protruding, Lumian involuntarily advanced toward the half-collapsed, ostentatious palace. Along the way, the formless and colorless flames parted for him, seemingly welcoming the return of the emperor of this kingdom, the master of this palace. Lumian only had to avoid the dripping black pus as it fell back to the ground.

Standing at the half-collapsed entrance, Lumian—with three heads—found his path blocked by an area of absolute darkness—so dark that even the concept of depth seemed devoured. He had no choice but to circle around to the palace’s side entrance.

Clicking his tongue as if mocking Alista Tudor, he muttered, “Utilizing the power of the City of Calamity, the Blood Emperor was ultimately killed by the River of Eternal Darkness. Even His corpse has become different.

“Sometimes, these forces repel each other to extremes; other times, they fuse. And once they fuse, it spells annihilation, absorbing and neutralizing the nearby remnant powers of other sefirot.”

“Your Majesty the Blood Emperor, are you planning to reclaim your corpse? I’m afraid it will drag you back into the River of Eternal Darkness—no, ultimate annihilation.”

Speaking to himself, Lumian moved toward the palace’s side entrance.

He intended to wait by Alista Tudor’s divine corpse, anticipating the arrival of Red Angel Medici.

That spot would be ideal for him to fight in his current state—half of what Alista Tudor once was, though without a fully “restored” rank.

When he reached the crumbling side entrance, now narrow enough to squeeze through, Lumian suddenly noticed two corpses standing on either side of the doorway.

One male and one female, both burned into charred remains by formless flames, stood preserved in their scorched states. Each had a left hand swollen and translucent, its bluish hue marred by yellow-green pus flowing within.

The veins on their left hands were unnaturally clear, and along with the palm lines, they formed intricate and densely packed symbols and patterns.

“Left Hand of Decay…

“Why are the bestowed of the Monarch of Decay placed here as corpse statues?” Lumian murmured, lowering his gaze. As expected, he saw ancient Tudor coins beneath each of the four corpses, with denominations of “2,” “7,” and “13.”

Lumian’s face twitched, a wave of violent and destructive emotions surging within him.

Summoning a black-flame greatsword in one hand, he prepared to slash at the four corpses.

Suddenly, a gentle female voice came from nearby: “Their purpose is to symbolize one thing: making anything that can go wrong be most likely to go wrong.”

Lumian turned both his heads simultaneously, spotting Madame Pualis, dressed in a black gown. Her subtle brows framed bright brown eyes, her brown hair styled in a high bun.

In her arms, she cradled a chubby-cheeked, adorably plump infant girl.

The baby girl no longer appeared ethereal but fully real, tangible, and vivid.

…

In the depths of Underground Trier.

Under the corrosive fog of history, the Tree of Shadow’s trunk became increasingly illusory. Its bark and branches began peeling away.

Though the Tree of Shadow was intimately tied to every human in Trier and could not be completely destroyed, its aura weakened rapidly. The canopy extending above ground receded deeper meter by meter.

Suah and Tirié struggled with all Their might to hold the line, yet They could not reverse the trend.

…

Somewhere in Fourth Epoch Trier

Louis Gustav watched as the infants on his body dropped to the ground, dying instantly and decaying into rotted corpses.

0–59—The Divine Kingdom Without People!

The undead infants never had the chance to be reborn. Exposed to The Fourth Sun suspended high in the sky, they were instantly purified and vanished.

Birthing children was not an evil act for the Mother but a sacred one, immune to The Fourth Sun’s purification. However, transforming the infants into undead made them susceptible to its power.

Losing all the infants, the “maternal body” fell with a look of anguish, rapidly disintegrating into a pool of blood and flesh. The flesh writhed as if attempting to reform into a bird’s nest.

But it died mid-reformation, simultaneously decaying and regenerating.

Holy, radiant sunlight enveloped it.

…

Red Angel Medici and part of His metal soldiers landed in a desolate wilderness shrouded in gray-white fog, flickering between reality and illusion.

In this wilderness, shadowy figures wandered silently, moving slowly toward the edges—to them.

…

Seeing Madame Pualis holding the infant Omebella, Lumian beamed. Lifting the newly condensed Sword of Destruction, he prepared to strike.

“There’s no need to rush. It’s been a while since we had a conversation,” Madame Pualis said gently. A stretch of wilderness appeared around her, creating distance between herself and Lumian. Her gaze shifted between Lumian’s face and Aurore’s tightly closed eyes, filled with a trace of sorrow.

Rumble!

Amid the booming explosions, her figure appeared on the other side of Paramita. Her tone was soft and soothing.

“It’s pointless. Omebella has truly been born. The anticipated outcome has arrived, and nothing will change now.”

Her maternal voice calmed the fury and madness in Lumian’s heart.

Stopping his attack, Lumian said, “Omebella…”

He initially wanted to ask when Omebella was born, but a sharp pain in his head brought a sense of spiritual foreboding.

Instead, he asked, “In the dream city, why didn’t you—or rather, the Mother Goddess of Depravity—help the Celestial Worthy? Why let Him fail?”

Madame Pualis, cradling infant Omebella, smiled and answered, “When I entered the dream city, aside from wanting to see you and Aurore, I had only one goal:

“To act on behalf of the Great Mother to eliminate any chance for the Celestial Worthy to reverse the situation if such an opportunity arose.

“However, all of you did an excellent job. You didn’t give me that chance.”

“Why?” Lumian asked with a frown.

Shouldn’t balance have been maintained?

Maintaining her smile, Madame Pualis replied, “After the Hostel incident, the Mother’s thoughts changed. She wished for The Fool to prevail.

“This way, The Fool would begin a process of simultaneously opposing and integrating the Celestial Worthy, while also accommodating Sefirah Castle. Such a process would be difficult to disrupt. Facing another crisis, even if The Fool wanted to give up and hand everything to the Celestial Worthy—or if the Celestial Worthy wanted to compromise and assist The Fool in controlling Sefirah Castle—the resulting state wouldn’t be easily broken or altered. It would take a long time.”

“Before such a state could fully change, the Lord of Mysteries’s power would be at best comparable to that of Grisha Adam during Project Vortex. And even achieving this would require the Celestial Worthy’s full cooperation.”

“No matter what abilities such a Lord of Mysteries employs, it’s impossible for Him to break through the barrier formed by the mirrored Creator in a short period of time. He can’t prevent what’s about to happen. The Mother has been anticipating this for a long time.”

Lumian recalled the events that had just transpired and suddenly realized the night’s major events were far from over.

Laughing, he said, “So, even you don’t trust the Celestial Worthy to honor His promises after fully awakening?”

“No one would trust a Great Old One that symbolizes deceit,” Madame Pualis replied gently, rocking the baby in her arms as if coaxing Omebella back to sleep.

Lumian glanced at Omebella and asked, “When was She truly born?

“And what will Her birth bring?”

With a soft smile, Madame Pualis answered, “After you were dragged into the special mirror world.”

She explained with a smile, “Calamity needs to stay away from the mother. But have you ever considered—you’re not the calamity, but the Mother—the one who gave birth to Omebella.”

“The great terror in the special mirror world came from the fusion of the two pathways of Calamity, so it naturally symbolizes calamity?” Lumian suddenly understood the true meaning behind Mr. Fool’s revelation.

This was a fate even great existences couldn’t fully grasp.

Madame Pualis gazed wistfully at Aurore, sighed, and said, “That’s one interpretation. But there’s a deeper reason.”

She turned to Lumian, her brown eyes deep, and asked, “Have you noticed? Tudor and Cheek’s twins are also a boy and a girl, an elder sister and a younger brother.”

An elder sister and younger brother… Yes, Krismona and the Demoness of Gray Judith were once siblings! Lumian was suddenly struck by a deep sense of foreboding.

Madame Pualis smiled again and said, “For true gods of the Hunter and Demoness pathways, it’s normal for twins to be a boy and a girl. Anything else would be unusual. But why elder sister and younger brother, and not elder brother and younger sister?”

“Because They’re also a reflection of Omebella and Zedus in some way.

“As for why…” Madame Pualis glanced down at the baby in her arms and smiled. “Omebella is far older than you think.

“She and Zedus were born in the mid-First Epoch. At that time, Giant King Aurmir was still a purely mad demigod-level monster.

“Their mother, strictly speaking, wasn’t the Great Mother, but the Brood Hive ripped off from the Great Mother. When the Brood Hive was still within the Great Mother, Omebella and Zedus had yet to gestate.

“More importantly, Their father—Their true father—the one who fathered them with the Brood Hive.

“Guess who He is?”

…

In Madam Justice Audrey’s dream.

The ancient dragon, Edefana, gazed at Madam Magician and Madam Justice, His voice buzzing as He said, “I can offer you one more piece of critical intelligence, originating from the mid-First Epoch.”

Both Madam Magician and Madam Justice tensed inexplicably.

In a tone dripping with resentment and hatred, Edefana said, “The mother of Giant Queen Omebella is the Brood Hive currently sealed in the Western Continent.

“Her father is:

“The Primordial God Almighty!”