The Cycle of Fate

Chapter 45: The Unoccurred

The wind outside rustled softly, almost silently. In this tranquil state, Lumian let his thoughts wander, following his instincts as he pondered, "There's still light in the hallway. Leah must still be awake, probably reading Aurore's books. My bedroom is dark, so Valentine should be in bed, but who knows what Ryan is up to... Heh, they didn't even bring wine on their first visit—completely clueless about the customs in Daire." If the loop could be broken, his sister could become an informant for the Eighth Bureau. Then, she wouldn't have to worry about being investigated while playing in Trier. As for him, being an informant probably wouldn't require any special tests, right?

"Now, I've pieced together most of the situation, but the only thing I still can't figure out is what role the owl in the tomb and the deceased sorcerer played in all this...?

"If they're the ones who bewitched the chapel's priest and caused the anomaly, hoping to use the Twelfth Night ritual to achieve some goal, why haven't they made any moves during these loops, other than monitoring my progress in exploring the dream ruins? Could it be that, like Mrs. Pualis, they're waiting for a specific time or the Twelfth Night ritual, planning to complete the disrupted part, and thus don't want the loop to change, so they restart it early?

"Their behavior also confirms that the loop's key lies with me, which is why they repeatedly check how far I've explored the dream ruins... If I uncover the secret of the dream before the Twelfth Night arrives and learn how to reclaim the pollution, would they then ignore the possibility of the loop restarting early and directly strike at me, forcibly taking control of me?

"Hmm, they probably retain their memories as well..."

As his thoughts raced, Lumian suddenly heard a faint sound.

"Baa..."

It was the bleating of a sheep, as if coming from far away.

Lumian immediately thought of the three people who had turned into sheep and of the shepherd, Pierre Berry.

Could he be planning to attack us under the cover of night? Lumian shot up, straining to listen.

Outside, there was only the sound of the wind rustling through leaves and branches—no bleating.

It seemed as if Lumian had been so deep in thought that he had imagined it.

But he didn't think so, because he felt a slight warmth in his left chest.

The black thorn symbol seemed to have surfaced again!

This signified that some unseen force, closely tied to that mysterious presence, had silently crept into the room.

Without a second thought, Lumian rushed to the bed and shook Aurore awake.

"Wake up! Wake up!" he whispered urgently.

His instincts told him to be cautious, lest Leah, Ryan, and Valentine notice anything unusual about him.

Aurore opened her eyes, her light blue irises still clouded with sleep and confusion.

"What time is it?" she asked weakly, not fully awake yet.

"There's something wrong," Lumian stated first, then added, "It's half an hour before ten."

They were one of the few households in the village with a wall clock.

Aurore's eyes instantly sharpened. She quickly sat up, raised her right hand, and pressed her fingers to her temples.

At moments like this, she didn't care what she might see.

If she couldn't quickly identify the anomaly and determine the problem, then she might never need to see anything again.