Chapter 310 - 310 Encounter

310 Encounter

How did he go missing? Lumian asked, puzzled.

Baron Brignais wasnt just a mob leader; he was a Beyonder, too. As long as he was attentive, how could he allow his child to disappear?

Moreover, who in the market district would dare to s.n.a.t.c.h his child?

Sarkota shook his head. He didnt provide details.

Could it be the machinations of the Rose School of Thought, striving to expose the truth about the Savoie Mob from Baron Brignais? With recent events woven into the mix, Lumian had some unconfirmed theories.

After a brief pause of thought, he inquired, Do you know what Brignaiss illegitimate son looks like?

Sarkota nodded. The barons underlings came by with a portrait that resembles a photograph.

A portrait that resembles a photograph Had he invoked ritualistic magic? Lumians memory recalled the contents of Aurores grimoires.

Gazing at the brilliant sunlight streaming through the window, he turned to Sarkota.

Gather some men and aid Brignais.

Regardless of whether the child was ensnared by the Rose School of Thought or had truly gone missing, if they couldnt locate him soon, the outcome would be grim.

At his age, even without additional complications, his fate as a street urchin wouldnt be kind.

Understood. Sarkota refrained from inquiring why his boss had decided to lend a hand to Baron Brignais.

After all, it wasnt yet noon, and Salle de Bal Brise had just commenced operations. The real hustle and bustle didnt kick in until three or four in the afternoon. Apart from the janitors and kitchen staff, most folks had time aplenty.

Lumian ordered a gla.s.s of ice water topped with sugar-infused alcohol and stood on the cafs balcony, observing the mobsters interrogating vagrants along Avenue du March.

After a while, Rat Christo appeared. The diminutive smuggling chief emerged from an alley, trailed by seven or eight dogs of varying hues and breeds, and entered the diagonally opposite alley.

Before long, he drew nearer to Salle de Bal Brise.

At this sight, Lumian finished the remaining alcohol, placed the gla.s.s on the railing, and leaped from the second floor to the street.

Christo, his two rat-like whiskers wiggling, approached with a sycophantic grin.

Good morning, Ciel.

Are you aiding Brignais in locating his illegitimate son? Lumian inquired directly.

Christo nodded gently. Indeed. He personally reached out to me for a.s.sistance. Coincidentally, these kids excel at tracking down people.

As the Rat spoke, he affectionately patted the dogs heads.

They alternated between gathering and dispersing, following a distinct scent.

Baron Brignais truly cares for that illegitimate son Lumian advised Rat Christo with a pensive air, There might be something peculiar about this situation. Stay vigilant. I dont want you to go missing before finding the boy.

The Rose School of Thought being responsible for abducting the boy was always one of the possibilities.

Christo was taken aback, pondered for a moment, and remarked, Theres indeed something amiss. In recent years, weve never heard of Brignais having such a son. Moreover, he holds him in high regard. Why would the boy vanish?

A sudden appearance of an illegitimate child? Lumians intuition suggested this might be more intricate than he presumed.

After contemplating briefly, Christo gratefully said, Ciel, your intellect surpa.s.ses mine.

Dont you possess medicine to enhance your mind? Lumian inquired, half jesting and half curious.

As Christo allowed the dogs to nuzzle his trousers, he sheepishly smiled and replied, Indeed, but theyre short-term solutions. Their effects are middling, nowhere near the potency of a potion. d.a.m.n it, excessive consumption can lead to complications.

Lumian s.h.i.+fted the conversation, asking, Do you possess authentic mummy ashes?

Christo a.s.sumed an enigmatic expression.

How much do you require? I can provide you with the best version. That Little Minx Jenna often frequents Franca. Shes a tricky one. Just days ago, Franca inquired if I had genuine mummy ashes. Tsk, even the Boss is having trouble.

Ciel also had numerous dancers and actresses as mistresses. Despite his youth, he still relied on medicine.

I mean true mummy ashes. Lumian stroked his chin.

I dont. Christo shook his head. That stuff is ineffective, and I dont know who propagated the falsehood, but I do have a concoction that can satisfy all your paramours. Its composed of various herbs; I merely claim mummy ashes as the primary ingredient.

Did Franca buy it? Lumian inquired with a grin.

She did. Christo cooperatively chuckled. Probably because the Boss is too embarra.s.sed to approach me.

Her facade was impeccable. She concealed her true desires from the Rat, seeking the so-called ineffective mummy ashes Lumian sighed and confessed openly, I need genuine mummy ashes. They possess mystical uses. Keep an eye out since you often engage with merchants trading in alchemical materials.

No problem. Christo suspected that Ciel aimed to preserve his dignity and wouldnt acknowledge his quest for such a remedy. He insisted on mysticism as a pretext for seeking mummy ashes but didnt expose him. After all, it was a minor matter.

Observing Christos persistent search for Baron Brignaiss missing illegitimate son with his dogs, Lumian turned on his heel and made his way back to the dance hall.

As he was about to approach the bar counter, Termiboross commanding voice reverberated in his ears: To the cellar.

To the cellar Lumians initial thought was that the Inevitability angel had something planned.

Which cellar? he inquired.

The one used to store ingredients, replied Termiboros.

So proactive, so eager Whats He plotting? Lumian began to wonder if there was an underlying scheme at play.

Termiboros continued, Its a stroke of fate for you. Even if you dont go, it will find its way to you. Its destined.

Youre giving me chills Termiboros wont likely put me in immediate danger right now What could be in that cellar Lumian contemplated briefly and reckoned that the ingredient storage cellar was usually bustling around noon. In theory, there shouldnt be anything unusual or perilous.

After careful consideration, he decided to head to the cellar, listen at the door, and take a look. If he sensed anything awry, he would write to Madam Magician and inquire if he should heed Termiboross advice and enter.

Amidst the greetings of the chefs, kitchen helpers, handymen, and dishwas.h.i.+ng maids, Lumian crossed through the kitchen and descended the stairs to the ingredient storage cellar.

The cellars dark-brown wooden door was securely shut, as usual.

Lumian strained his ears, intently listening for any signs of activity.

A faint chewing sound reached his ears.

It wasnt a dramatic sound, devoid of the horrifying notion of a creature devouring flesh. Rather, it resembled a tramp gnawing on food after a long bout of hunger.

Somethings definitely amiss Lumian cautiously pushed open the cellar door.

The light from the stairs seeped in, revealing a figure.

It was a boy of seven or eight, his back to Lumian. He had short yellow hair, a caramel coat, white stockings, and black strapless leather shoes. Behind him lay a dark red school bag that seemed somewhat weighty and st.u.r.dy.

Lumian found the attire oddly familiar.

Suddenly, he recalled where hed seen it before.

Baron Brignaiss illegitimate son!

So, his disappearance led him to hiding in the ingredient cellar of Salle de Bal Brise? Lumian had intended to take a quick glance before shutting the door and leaving to pen a letter to Madam Magician at Auberge du Coq Dor. Yet, upon realizing that the person in the cellar was likely Baron Brignaiss illegitimate son, he furrowed his brow slightly and swung open the dark brown wooden door a bit more.

Additional light streamed in, causing the boy to instinctively turn and face the door.

Lumian caught sight of the bra.s.s b.u.t.tons on his clothes, a black-and-white checkered s.h.i.+rt, and a linen coat. He saw a face with evident baby fat, unperturbed but vacant brown eyes, and a mouth smeared with blood.

The boy clutched a few raw steaks tinged with a dark red hue in his hand. His mouth kept opening and closing as he chewed on a vague ma.s.s of flesh resembling a rat. Its thin black tail gently swayed near his lips.

Lumian narrowed his eyes and slipped his left hand into his pocket.

The boy remained unperturbed, his gaze vacant as he continued staring at Lumian. He chewed a few more times before swallowing the b.l.o.o.d.y rat, tail and all.

Lumian arched an eyebrow and asked, Are you Brignaiss illegitimate son?

No, the boy mumbled, nibbling at a piece of raw steak.

Then whats your connection? Lumian queried in a peaceful manner.

After a while of eating raw steak, the boy answered, Hes my G.o.dfather and guardian in Trier.

Remarkably precise Intisian, hardly any accent Lumian regarded the peculiar boy with puzzlement and probed, Are you running away from home?

Yes, the boy replied, blood staining his mouth as he continued nibbling on the raw steak.

Behind him stretched a thick darkness, enveloped by the dim light from the corridor.

Why did you flee from your G.o.dfather? Do you need me to help you return? Lumian asked, offering a friendly smile, noticing that the other party was more amicable in conversation.

The boy shook his head vigorously.

No! I dont want to go back to attending cla.s.ses, studying, doing homework, taking practice tests, and sitting for exams!

Wh The boys reasoning left Lumian oddly bewildered, as if he had glimpsed his own past.

He was intelligent and had no trouble attending cla.s.ses, reading, or taking exams. He absorbed knowledge swiftly, but he disliked homework or practice tests. He relied on Aurores heartfelt education to barely persevere. He often wished he could rope in Reimund, Ava, and his friends to do those tasks for him.

Is this rat-chewing enigma the fateful encounter Termiboros alluded to? Lumian pondered and inquired, You dont seem to be from Intis?

With an honest demeanor and a bloodied mouth, the boy responded, Im from Lenburg.