Circle of Inevitability

On Aquina Street, a two-story ceremonial boat crafted from wood, cardboard, and adorned with ribbons rolled forward, propelled by four sleek horses.

This intricate vessel mimicked the Governor of the Sea’s boat, designed to economize materials and size, allowing horses to guide it through the city.

Eight men and eight women, dressed vibrantly, stood on both upper and lower levels of the flower boat. They sang and danced, their joy infecting the spectators on both sides of the street.

Port Santa’s premier folk orchestra surrounded the ceremonial boat, playing rhythmic drumbeats and a variety of instruments such as clarinets, oboes, flutes, and strings.

The onlookers on the roadside were in high spirits, alternating between singing and following the ceremonial boat, hoping to catch a refreshing spray from the water droplets scattered by the sixteen men and women.

Observing the scene from the fifth floor of the Solow Motel, Lumian sensed that the sea prayer ritual had evolved beyond a mere sacrificial ceremony. Excluding its core aspects, it had transformed into a city-wide folklore festival.

Despite many residents of Port Santa being devout followers of the Earth Mother and not attributing spiritual significance to the sea, they embraced the festivities, dancing and celebrating on this special day.

As the flower boat concluded its tour of Aquina Street, Lumian turned to Lugano and remarked,

“Take good care of Ludwig today. No matter which celebration you attend, ensure he’s with you.”

“Yes, Boss,” Lugano replied, influenced by the cheerful atmosphere of the sea prayer ritual, his emotions lifted.

Without wasting any time, Lumian snatched his golden straw hat, exited the suite, and descended the stairs.

In the lobby, his gaze fell upon Otta Guillaume, the Solow Motel owner, doling out cash to the lady at the front desk and the two attendants—two risot each.

“Is this a holiday bonus?” Lumian inquired in Intisian.

Otta Sr. chuckled and replied, “No bonus, just their compensation. They’re on duty at the motel today, keeping an eye on the place. They’ll miss out on the sea prayer ritual and other celebrations.

“I’m heading to the docks to see my little cabbage dance!”

“I’ll be there too,” Lumian said with a smile, embracing the festive ambiance once again.

If the sea prayer ritual lacked mystic elements, Lumian would have fully immersed himself in the festive atmosphere, reminiscent of the few years of Lent he experienced in Cordu.

Exiting the motel, Lumian leisurely strolled towards the harbor, taking note of Port Santa’s residents bedecked in their most glamorous and festive attire. At a glance, the streets appeared to be awash with a sea of colors.

His attire—a white shirt, black vest, and dark pants—made him stand out like a foreigner amidst the lively crowd.

Lumian adorned the golden straw hat, injecting a splash of color into his appearance.

The rhythmic chime of bicycle bells accompanied the passing of wooden crate-laden bicycles. Vendors energetically peddled popsicles of various flavors to eager citizens anticipating the sea dance and boat race.

Observing the two segments with a relaxed demeanor, Lumian savored the festivities. He patiently waited until the two-story festival boat, carrying the Governor of the Sea and the Maidens of the Sea, embarked on its journey to Milo Village before departing the port.

Choosing to abstain from other citizen-organized celebrations, Lumian sought refuge in a public washroom within the nearest department store, slipping into a cubicle.

Triggering the black mark on his right shoulder, Lumian materialized in a concealed corner of Milo Village.

Shifting into a shadow creature, he seamlessly infiltrated the Oro family’s blend of ancient and modern architecture, arriving at Juan Oro’s bedroom.

The president of the Fisheries Guild awaited Lumian’s arrival, and upon seeing the figure of the adventurer, Louis Berry, emerge from the darkness, Juan Oro, with deep wrinkles, gestured towards the unconscious Milo villagers on the floor.

“These are two of the four deputy hosts for the vigil and the sea sacrificial ritual. Choose one to assume his form.”

This condition was pivotal for Lumian’s collaboration with Juan Oro. He sought continuous participation in the core sections of the sea prayer ritual.

Initially hesitant due to the inability to deceive other sea spawn and introduce a stranger onto the ship, Juan Oro only agreed to allow Lumian to infiltrate the Governor of the Sea’s residence before the vigil ritual, observing it discreetly.

However, with Ultraman under suspicion as a key figure in the Fisheries Guild, Lumian seized the opportunity when Juan Oro required cooperation and assistance, showcasing the abilities of the Lie earring. Thus, Lumian devised a plan to disguise himself as a specific deputy host and gain access to the ship.

After studying one of the deputy hosts for a few moments, Lumian adorned a silver earring. He replicated the appearance of the chosen deputy host, seamlessly blending into his guise.

In no time, except for his clothing, there was no discernible difference between Lumian and the deputy host.

“It’s my turn,” Juan Oro said in a deep Intisian voice.

He decided to take on the guise of another deputy host and personally board the ship to avert any potential mishaps.

Concerned about Louis Berry’s involvement in the sea sacrifice and wary of lurking enemies employing unknown methods to cause trouble, Juan Oro believed that everything would converge during the sea sacrifice segment. Boarding the boat covertly would enable him to address unforeseen circumstances in time, delivering a strategic “surprise.”

Juan Oro harbored suspicions that Louis Berry might be an accomplice of last year’s saboteurs, his prior actions serving as a ploy to deceive them and allow him to openly disrupt the ritual at a crucial moment.

Lumian casually tossed the Lie earring to Juan Oro, who proceeded to change into a dark-blue robe embroidered with various sea elements.

Upon donning the silver earring, Juan Oro experienced a remarkable control over every detail of his body.

Attempting to adjust the wrinkles on his face, he observed himself becoming ten to twenty years younger in the mirror.

Despite his potent and diverse Beyonder powers, the president of the Fisheries Guild couldn’t help but marvel.

“How magical.”

After completing his disguise, Lumian pointed at the unconscious deputy host.

“Who’s responsible for keeping an eye on them and preventing their appearance before the sea prayer ritual?”

“My wife,” Juan Oro replied, already prepared.

She, a former Maidens of the Sea and the current Matriarch of the Oro family, possessed considerable strength. While she hadn’t participated in any ring-

making rituals, she was a trusted individual who wouldn’t divulge secrets.

Lumian redirected the conversation, inquiring, “As the president of the Fisheries Guild, won’t you be suspected if you don’t wait for news of the successful sea prayer ritual with the other committee members?”

“No, I don’t go every year. I can also wait for news at home, and my wife will pretend to be me,” Juan Oro stated, pointing at Lie on his left ear and removing it.

After confirming the details, Lumian inquired further, “Have you investigated any of those who nearly died and came back to life, or have their personalities undergone a significant change?”

These individuals were key members of the Fisheries Guild familiar with the specific design of the Ring of the Sea Queen and the complete details of the sea prayer ritual.

According to Franca, every member of the Curly-Haired Baboons Research Society was a soul from another world, having “resurrected” in recently deceased human bodies. This information could help identify who might be Ultraman.

Juan Oro slowly shook his head.

“No, at least not in my memory. Time was tight, so I couldn’t investigate them one by one.”

The rejuvenated elder, now appearing in his prime, continued, “Remember, your name is Brian now. My name is Jorge. If you don’t understand what others are saying later, it’s fine. I’ll hint at you. When you need to answer questions, I’ll help you.”

“Alright.” Lumian maintained the pretense of not knowing Highlander.

In reality, having extensively studied under the effects of the Language Comprehension charm, he had already mastered more words and grammar. While still unable to fully comprehend others’ words, he could grasp key words, tense, and the active and passive voice, allowing him to roughly understand the meaning. Expressing himself with short sentences and simple structures presented no challenge.

…

Clad in the dark-blue robe of a deputy host, Lumian entered the Governor of the Sea’s residence, guided by Juan Oro, who no longer staggered. Passing through a hall adorned with sea creature statues, they reached the room where the Governor of the Sea maintained his vigil.

The current Governor of the Sea, Simon of the Guiaro family, was from a branch with a thin bloodline, unqualified to reside in the ancestral house.

At that moment, Simon sat cross-legged on the cold floor, suppressing his excitement. With half-closed eyes, he felt the moist air enveloping him.

Although Lumian refrained from activating his Spirit Vision, he sensed various sea spawn bustling in the shadows, the void, and the statues.

Juan Oro led Lumian out of the room, guiding him to the most secluded part of the building. Opening the wooden door to the servants’ quarters, Juan Oro addressed the fake Governor of the Sea, Miguel, lying on the bed.

“Once the sea prayer ritual succeeds, you can leave, but you must depart Port Santa with the wealth you’ve amassed over the past year.”

Miguel sat up excitedly. “Alright, alright!”

Though their conversation occurred in Highlander, Lumian grasped the essence.

After this exchange, Juan Oro translated the conversation for Lumian, emphasizing, “You can verify if I’m lying based on Miguel’s expression.”

Lumian silently pondered, thinking, So what if you’re not lying? What you said might not be done… He then returned to the hall, assuming a cross-

legged position opposite the other two deputy hosts.

As time passed, midnight arrived, marking the completion of the Ring of the Sea Queen. One of the deputy hosts retrieved it and guided it to the basement in the dim moonlight.

The moment had come to pay homage to their ancestors.

Lumian observed the scene in silence and suddenly had a thought.

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