Chapter 1126: The Future
As Naboredisley departed, Franca descended from the second floor, immediately asking Lumian, “What did He want from you?”

“Self-preservation,” Lumian replied succinctly.

Franca’s thoughts raced as she speculated aloud, “You’re not connected to either the Abyss or the Chained pathways. How could He use you to save Himself?”

“By leveraging my deep secret deed with the peak powers of the Calamity pathways,” Lumian answered, the central head on his shoulders smiling. “Don’t ask for details.”

“I get it. I’m not an Angel yet,” Franca quipped, self- mocking.

Looking at Lumian, she mumbled, “Honestly, do I really have to wait for the final showdown to find the opportunity to complete the ritual to advance as a Demoness of Catastrophe?

“No alternatives in the meantime?”

Lumian considered this seriously before answering. “The advancement ritual is to ‘create a disaster that affects an entire continent as a participant and advance amidst it.’ The word ‘participant’ means you don’t need to be the instigator-contributing to a small part of the disaster is enough. ‘Affecting an entire continent’ is a vague description. Continents vary in size, population, and significance. What kind of continent would fulfill the requirements?

“My personal understanding is that this equates to ‘a disaster with a wide-reaching impact, involving hundreds of cities or settlements, and causing significant damage.’

“From that perspective, there’s an upcoming disaster that fits the criteria.”
Franca’s eyes lit up. “What disaster?”

She immediately followed up, “Is it related to your plans against the Primordial Demoness?”

Lumian nodded. “Yes. We’re about to bring a disaster to the Demoness Sect. This will take place outside the protected zones. If I succeed, it will inevitably involve the fall of the Primordial Demoness.

“As you’ve seen, the fall of the Eternal Blazing Sun had global repercussions. Many witnessed it firsthand. Even now, there’s no sun in the World of Ruins; the rebirth forces of the Great Mother maintain nature’s cycle. Referring to that example, if the Primordial Demoness perishes, it’s highly likely to trigger a disaster that affects the entire world, which would fulfill the ritual’s requirements.

“After all, the protected zones have the power of two existences to block the disaster. The Western Continent is sealed off by the Celestial Worthy, and the living beings still active in the World of Ruins are either the Mother’s followers or outcasts like cultists and high-ranking members of the Demoness Sect. It’s fitting for them to suffer.”

“Hmm, my fight against the Demoness of Black and other Saint-level witches qualifies me as a participant,” Franca agreed, then self-deprecatingly added, “A few years ago, when I first became a Witch, I never imagined that my advancement ritual would involve the fall of the Primordial Demoness…”

Back when she’d just become a Witch – or even when she became Unaging – she wouldn’t have dared to think this far.

Lumian continued, “Let’s go visit Ma’am Hermit.”

…

The deep blue sea stretched out as the crimson moon replaced the setting sun, bringing darkness in its wake.

The Future-flagship of the Queen of Stars, Cattleya – sailed silently across the waves, as if in slumber.

As Lumian and Franca’s figures emerged on the deck, a sailor approached with a bright smile, saying, “The captain asked me to bring you to her quarters.”

“She foresaw our arrival?” Franca asked in surprise, glancing at the dark gold mask on the head over Lumian’s left shoulder.

Wasn’t it said that true gods and most great existences couldn’t foresee this head’s actions?

The sailor, still smiling, responded to Franca’s question.

“The captain foresaw your arrival.”

Fine, that’s on me… Franca muttered inwardly.

Only then did she notice something peculiar about the sailor: a massive, red-and-white mushroom grew on his head, large enough to serve as an umbrella. The mushroom’s roots seemed to pierce into his scalp and skull, while two tentacle-like appendages dangled from the mushroom, resting on the sailor’s shoulders.

Suddenly, a name flashed through Franca’s mind: Li Keji!

No, in the outside world, he was respectfully known as the Great Druid Frank Lee!

“Is that the latest type of mushroom?” Lumian asked, pointing to the sailor’s head as they followed him toward the cabins.

The sailor beamed. “Yes, its tendrils can extract moisture from the air and turn it into milk. It can even continuously fish to provide protein.

“It’s in symbiosis with me now, supplementing my body as needed.”

As he spoke, the mushroom’s cap and stem extended their tendrils outward into the air.

At the same time, the sailor grabbed one of the tentacle-like appendages draped over his shoulder and stuffed it into his mouth, sucking enthusiastically.

Milk trickled from the corner of his mouth, only to be reabsorbed by the tendrils.

“See? This way, I’ll never go thirsty. No matter where I am, I’ll never go thirsty! Haha, I’ll never go thirsty!” The sailor laughed spiritedly.

Damn, has he been corrupted by Frank Lee, or has he been mutated by the Great Mother? Franca suddenly began to understand why Bella, who cared for Jenna’s brother, was so terrified of being sent back to the Future.

Following the sailor, they entered the cabin. As they passed the staircase to the lower levels, he suddenly lowered his voice and spoke in a secretive, fearful tone, “Never go down there.”

Franca nodded quickly, taking his advice without question.

When they reached the captain’s quarters, the sailor knocked, waited for permission, and then opened the door, gesturing for them to enter.

Lumian and Franca walked in side by side. Standing by the window, dressed in a black warlock’s robe and wearing thick glasses, Ma’am Hermit Cattleya greeted them with a gentle smile and a nod, “Good evening, Mr. Chariot, Ms. Two of Cups.”

“Good evening, Ma’am Hermit,” Lumian and Franca replied politely.

Franca glanced at the now-closed door to the captain’s quarters and hesitantly asked.

“Ma’am, shouldn’t you address the mushroom experiments being conducted on crew members? That sailor wasn’t a criminal or a prisoner of war-he was a legitimate sailor.”

The Hermit Cattleya paused for a moment before explaining, “In reality, it isn’t so. What you saw was an illusion.

“An illusion?” Franca asked in surprise.

“In the protected zone, certain wild, unrestrained ideas can influence those nearby, creating surface-level abnormalities. In reality, that sailor doesn’t have a mushroom growing on his head,” Ma’am Hermit explained before adding. “Even for criminals and prisoners of war, unless they’re beyond redemption, I don’t let Frank experiment on them. At most, they’re required to observe his experiments periodically.”

Well done! Franca wanted to applaud Ma’am Hermit.

Understanding the nature of the protected zones, she found it easy to grasp Ma’am Hermit’s explanation.

With a smile, Lumian said, “Ma’am, I’d like you to use Cheek’s face on my left shoulder to divine Her whereabouts.”

“Alright.” Ma’am Hermit didn’t ask further, removing her heavy glasses.

She was already a Sequence 2 Sage.

In the early months after the protected zones were established, frequent disasters involving high-level powers occurred. Demigods were stretched thin trying to manage them. Most were resolved by Amon, while others were stopped by Archangels and Angels, or delayed until reinforcements arrived.

These conditions had given Cattleya the opportunity to complete her ritual.

She wasn’t particularly happy about it-she would have preferred no such opportunity, for humanity to continue living normal lives outside the protected zones.

The Hermit Cattleya’s gaze shifted to the head on Lumian’s left shoulder, but she didn’t dare linger on the face adorned with the dark gold mask.

The head on Lumian’s left shoulder turned towards The Hermit Cattleya, radiating maternal radiance. Cheek’s beautiful and exquisite face beamed with anticipation.

The Hermit Cattleya’s deep-purple, nearly black eyes turned abyssal, unfocused.

Faint images flashed within the mercury-colored rivers appearing and vanishing.

She abruptly tilted her head back as blood trickled from the corners of her eyes. ra n o bes

In a distant, detached tone, she said, “I see you fighting Cheek in the primeval rainforest of the Southern Continent.”

“Thank you,” Lumian said earnestly.

He then said, “I’d also like you to contact Queen Mystic. I’d like her to perform a divination as well.”

“Alright,” The Hermit Cattleya agreed, wiping the blood from her eyes. However, she asked in confusion, “Why did you ask me to divine?”

Wouldn’t it have sufficed to go directly to the Queen?

Lumian chuckled.

“For one, different people may see different visions during divination. By comparing them, we might glean additional information. Second, this helps you digest the Sage potion. If your divination ultimately leads to the fall of a Calamity-representing evil god, wouldn’t that perfectly embody the essence of a Sage?”

Ma’am Hermit remained silent for a couple of seconds before replying, “I’ll contact the Queen soon to arrange a time and place, then inform you.”

“Alright, thank you.” Lumian and Franca vanished from the captain’s quarters.

After watching them leave, The Hermit Cattleya didn’t immediately put her heavy glasses back on. Instead, she gazed out at the deck.

Gradually, the deck, the cabin, and the entire ship became illusory in her vision, fading rapidly. The surrounding deep-blue, near-black seawater also lost its color, revealing a murky quality.

Within the murkiness, tens of thousands of overlapping human figures formed a massive sphere. Among them were the sailor from earlier and Cattleya herself, all with their eyes closed.

Many similar human spheres floated densely in the depths of the murkiness.

***