The black vines hanging from the roof blossomed with blood-red flowers, completely sealing off the third floor of the castle.
Guillaume Bene, Pierre Berry, and Sibyl Berry rushed towards the tower while resisting the attacks of the "midwife" and others.
Several other images flashed through Lumian's mind as this scene: Guillaume, who was invisible, climbing a tower full of bird-clawed infants. Bene, with the help of Berry, successfully touched the shoulder of the "midwife" with his right palm, and the "midwife" exploded, as if someone had planted a bomb inside her;
Sybil Berry was killed by a maid, but was reborn in her body, taking over her body;
Floating in mid-air, Louise Lund gave birth to a child in the room;
Louis Lund, unaffected, joined forces with the administrator Beost to suppress the "mad" shepherd Pierre Berry;
In the wilderness leading to the mountains, the parish priest Guillaume Bene was surrounded by countless dead souls in sackcloth...
Lumian frowned, revealing a painful expression, as if these memories were sharp weapons piercing his soul. Pulling them out would only bring more harm, making him instinctively resist further recall.
Soon, the scenes faded back and Lumian began to breathe heavily.
"How was it, what did you gain?" Susie's voice was gentle, as if she was asking what breakfast was today. Lumian thought and answered: "I remembered the battle between the parish priest and Mrs. Puaris's men. The picture was very messy and fragmented...
"I, sometimes I seem to be watching the scene, and sometimes I seem to be far away from it through some means to see the corresponding scenes..."
This made him extremely confused about his position and role in this matter.
Sometimes he seemed to be one of the two groups, deeply involved in the battle, and sometimes he seemed to be a pure bystander, having nothing to do with either side.
Susie asked in a luring manner: "Besides these, what else do you have any questions about the situation presented in that part of the memory just now?"
"I don't think I saw Madam Pualis... Only the parish priest was surrounded by a large number of undead in the wilderness. Madam Pualis's shadow is vaguely involved in this matter." The parish priest and his men only dealt with Louis. Lund, Cassie, Beost, the 'midwife' and other Madam Pualis's men seemed to have little spare power. If Madam Pualis joined, I don't believe they can win the final victory...
"Why did Mrs. Puaris give up on her own initiative and leave Cordu, and not stop the parish priest and others..."
"It wasn't that he gave up voluntarily, he was forcibly sent away." Susie corrected him, "The ritual of sending away the 'Spring Spirit' in your dream should reflect the expulsion of Puaris. The 'Spring Spirit' represents harvest, the end of the withered winter and the beginning of vigorous life, which is very close to the abilities displayed by Puaris and his gang."
“That’s even more wrong…” Lumian’s voice gradually became painful, and he clenched his hands tightly, feeling that he could not remember anything.
"If you don't want to recall it, don't recall it. It's not something that can be accomplished in one psychotherapy session. Take your time. Don't rush."
Huh... Lumian slowly breathed out a sigh of relief, his body no longer so tense.
"You can take a nap and see if you can find more answers in your dreams."
In Lumian's ears, the voice of this "psychologist" was gentle at first, and then became more and more erratic, as if it was moving farther away and into another world.
His eyelids became heavier and heavier, and finally drooped.
Lumian opened his eyes and saw the familiar ceiling.
He suddenly turned over and sat up, taking in the tilted chair, the wooden table by the window, the small bookshelf on the side, and the wardrobe with a full-length mirror.
This is his bedroom, this is his home in the village of Koldu.
Lumian stared blankly for a few seconds, then quickly got out of bed and ran out of the room.
He pushed open the door of Aurora's bedroom and saw that the desk was filled with manuscripts, papers, pens, ink bottles and other items just as he remembered. He also saw that the chair with the cushion was empty, with no one sitting there.
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Lumian's gaze moved from there to the empty bed, then slowly retracted.
He closed the door gently, then turned and walked to the next room.
There was no familiar figure in the study either.
Lumian started running and ran down the stairs.
He ran all the way through the village of Cordu and arrived at the door of the church of "Eternal Sun".
On the way, he didn't meet a single villager, and every house was dead silent.
Looking up at the onion-shaped dome, Lumian strode into the church.
The altar has been transformed and is filled with flowers such as tulips and lilacs, and is engraved with a black thorn symbol that looks like liquid is flowing on the surface.
There is still no one here.
Lumian searched the parish priest's room and went down to the basement again.
The piles of bones and sheepskins around were exactly the same as in the previous dream, but the altar in the middle was not damaged at all.
Lumian checked carefully and found no burning sensation in his chest.
After he realized that this was a dream, the power representing "past", "present" and "future" seemed to disappear.
Having gained nothing, Lumian stood beside the underground altar, thought for a while, then ran again, up the stairs, out of the side door, and came to the nearby cemetery.
Based on his memory of the previous dream, he quickly found the tomb that the owl flew into, bent down, and pushed open the stone slab that sealed the entrance.
Without any hesitation, Lumian walked down the stairs one by one, passed through the corridor, and saw the black coffin placed in the dark tomb.
There was no owl or other Lumian here, only the light seeping in from outside the tomb, outlining the outlines of everything.
Lumian withdrew his gaze and walked straight towards the black coffin.
The lid of the coffin had already slid to the side, revealing the scene inside.
Thinking of the dream in which Aurore almost lost control because of peeking at the dead wizard's body in the coffin, Lumian hesitated for a moment. Two or three seconds later, he walked forward a few steps with an expressionless face, approached the black coffin, and cast his eyes directly into it. A corpse quickly appeared in his eyes.
The corpse had golden hair scattered on both sides, his eyes were tightly closed, his face was slightly pale, and he was wearing a light blue dress.
This is Aurore!
Lying in the dead wizard's coffin is Auror!
Lumian's eyes instantly enlarged, and his face twisted into a hideous shape.
The scene before his eyes shattered bit by bit.
Lumian suddenly opened his eyes and stared ahead with a complicated expression.
"What did you see?" Susie's voice sounded in his ears.
Lumien replied in a dreamy voice: "I saw Aurore lying in the coffin of the dead wizard...
"How can this be… "
“It’s more of a symbol.
"She was on the verge of losing control because she wanted to see the wizard's body in the coffin clearly."
Lumian barely thought: "Two weeks later."
Susie was silent for a few seconds and said, "Finally, I want to remind you that you have a strong tendency to self-destruct."
“Self-destruction…” Lumian repeated the word in a low voice, with no change in expression.
Susie's voice became warm again, soothing Lumian's heart: "I can understand why this happens to you, and I don't want to eliminate it by force. Unless you are willing to let me erase all the memories that represent the root cause of the problem, otherwise every treatment will only alleviate it rather than eradicate it." I just want to remind you that the Auror I saw in your memory was a lady who loved life and loved life.
"She still has many wishes that have not been fulfilled. She wants to see you go to college, she wants to travel to Trier as an ordinary person for a while, she wants to find clues about her hometown, she wants to deal with her parents' problems perfectly, she wants to enjoy all the Trier delicacies, she wants to listen to every concert and see every art exhibition here.
"She is only one step away from complete death. If she is still conscious, I think she will definitely not give up. She is now like a person falling into the abyss with only one hand left to hold on to the edge of the cliff. If even you give up, no one will ever pull her up."
Lumian's expression gradually changed, but he couldn't show any definite emotion.
He seemed to have forgotten how to laugh and how to cry.
Susie did not force him to respond immediately, she sighed softly and said, “Many times, it is not a good thing to suppress pain and despair completely in your heart. Humans need to vent and relieve stress.
"Okay, that's all for today. We'll have the second treatment here at the same time two weeks later."
Lumian closed his eyes and said, "Thank you, Ms. Susie."
Susie didn't respond and seemed to have left.
After more than ten seconds, Lumian slowly exhaled and opened his eyes.
He subconsciously glanced outside the Mason Cafe and saw a large golden retriever carrying a brown bag disappearing around the corner of the street in the distance.
There seemed to be a female figure next to the big dog.
Lumian sat for another ten minutes, drank the rest of the ambergris lemonade, walked out of Mason's Cafe, and came to the nearest public carriage stop.
Soon, a double-decker public carriage painted green arrived, waiting for passengers to board.
Lumian spent 30 kopecks, found a seat by the window, and looked outside with an unfocused gaze.
"Newspapers for sale! Newspapers for sale! The latest newspaper, 11 kopeks a copy!" A child in shabby clothes came to the window and held up the stack of newspapers in his hand.
Self-destruction... to live... Self-destruction... to live... Lumian's mind was filled with the words of the "psychiatrist". He was like a walking corpse and didn't want to pay any attention to the newsboy.
Yes, today is Sunday... Lumian was stunned for a moment, took out two 5-copek copper coins and a 1-copek copper coin, opened the window, and stuffed them into the hands of the newspaper boy.
"Obituary: "It has been confirmed by the editorial department of this newspaper that our eternal friend, the famous best-selling author, Aurore Lee, unfortunately passed away in an accident in April..."
Lumian's gaze froze, and his hands began to tremble.
Suddenly, he lowered his head, raised the newspaper and covered his face with it.
In the afternoon sun, a wet streak appeared on the surface of the newspaper.
The wet marks became more and more numerous and connected into one.
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