บท 1152: The Hawk Does Not Bow to the Sparrow

As the scent of gray amber candles wafted through the air, Lumian sat with his eyes closed, sensing the malice welling up deep within his mind. It was as though he had entered the mists of history, embodying Devil Monarch Farbauti, indulging in wild, unrestrained acts, all while entering a Cogitative state.

Now, he no longer needed corpse wax candles to sense the City of Calamity. Through Cogitation alone, he could achieve a deep communion with it.

Soon, Lumian began to float. Before him appeared a mist tinged with an eerie black hue.

This time, he didn't enter the "Shanghai" that Franca had described, nor did he see the trackless trams carrying heads with dangling spines or rickshaws dragging bloated women. Instead, what came into view was a stone well built of slabs and iron chains engraved with devilish faces.