Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong
Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/
Chapter 71: The Trick of Insects
—Huh?
Myss let out a startled sound inside Roman’s memories.
Seeing this far, he suddenly realized that Roman Gerard wasn’t completely without merit.
In a certain sense, he was a little like Salaar.
As one of the world’s foremost explorers and Professor Gentry’s proudest student, this guy, even as his mind collapsed, had actually not stopped thinking.
Amid immense grief, Roman preserved a piece of metal-like, cold, hard rationality, and his thoughts moved at an increasingly astonishing speed.
[He had watched everyone walk toward the abyss. He understood nothing. He could do nothing…]
The entrance had collapsed for no reason, the magic suppression followed them like a shadow, and all his companions had fallen one after another. This was definitely not simple misfortune. It was more like active interference.
He hadn’t discovered any clues. That meant the existence capable of doing all this was far more powerful than an Archmage, such as—
[Roman’s gaze moved wildly, then suddenly locked onto the crumbled paper ball not far away.]
—such as an unknown existence that had arrived belatedly in the middle of their desperate situation.
[Roman slowly withdrew his gaze and walked toward Sean. His steps were orderly and heavy, as if he were walking toward his own execution.]
No matter what, V.O.R’s target was him.
If he refused, in order to make him “willingly” cooperate, everyone might fall into an even more tragic situation. He had to agree first… Of course, only on the surface.
“I’ll leave alone.”
Roman “obediently” stretched out his hands and poured magic into Sean and Fiona’s bodies. “Everything will get better. Trust me.”
A snow-white elk appeared behind Roman—a creature of immense size, gentle demeanor, and breathtaking beauty.
Using the massive flow of magic as cover, Roman quietly cut apart his own Magibase.
Cutting one’s own Magibase was no different from spiritual self-mutilation.
But as a powerful mage, Roman was equally aware that the Magibase, as his spiritual organ, could in turn affect his mental state. V.O.R most likely had the ability to interfere with magic. He had to maintain the greatest possible clarity.
Amid piercing pain, Roman showed no unusual expression. He only lowered his head slightly.
By the time V.O.R’s final letter arrived, Roman and his Magibase had only the most basic connection left between them.
The instant the letter paper entered his hand, something burrowed into his body along the paper and climbed onto his Magibase.
It contained what could be called terrifying magic power, like a strange seed. After coming into contact with Roman’s magic circuit, it seemed to activate, beginning to unreasonably absorb the power scattered around it.
It incited his strongest obsession at that moment, waiting to cast his will into Law.
As the price, he would lose his normal sanity. Roman’s spirit simply couldn’t bear the burden of such explosively expanding divine power, and after making his wish, it was doomed to shatter beyond recognition.
At that moment, Roman understood.
His wish would come true, in an extremely twisted way.
In this barren wilderness with nothing at all, underground and surrounded by dangers.
Deep in the dark ruins, there would only be a half-baked mad god with nothing left but obsession, and the human companions bound by Him within the Divine Realm. Everyone would be trapped in eternal night, guarding His so-called “dream”.
…Provided that Roman hadn’t cut apart his Magibase.
Roman Gerard was long past the age of believing in fairy tales.
In despair, a supposed omnipotent and omniscient god fell from the sky. They tested his sincerity with the suffering of his friends and promised him a vague, illusory hope?
What a joke.
If they were going to talk about hope, then it had to be hope lit by his own hands.
At that moment, Roman understood.
His wish would come true, in a way V.O.R absolutely would detest.
…The excoriating agony continued.
Roman’s magic circuit rapidly twisted, and his body swelled and distorted. A terrifying magic power spread outward along with Roman’s wish.
The Divine Realm descended, the magic suppression vanished, and abundant magic soothed every person.
It seeped into the gradually cooling bodies of Sean and Fiona and drowned the other dying survivors. It forcibly supported people’s physical bodies and maintained the operation of his companions’ magic circuits.
“Please send me… to the center of the castle… the master bedroom…”
Roman pretended that his mind was collapsing and begged with his the “last shred of his sanity”. “I can’t… let them… see what I look like…”
V.O.R responded to his request. A force came from the darkness and easily pushed him into the master bedroom wrapped in traps. It was just like a human stretching out a finger to casually toy with a little insect on an experiment table.
Roman let out a cold laugh in his heart.
The moment his body took shape, he gave the Divine Realm its law, a gentle will that no one would suspect.
In the Divine Realm of the “Prisoner of Dreams,” every dream that He had the power to realize could come true.
…Including His own hopes.
In the gray ruins illuminated by bone-burning lamps.
Countless brightly colored mushrooms with gentle light grew out. They were saturated with pure divine power, waiting to realize people’s humble wishes.
…It wasn’t enough.
In the ruined master bedroom, within the incubator closest to Him, soft white clumps appeared.
Countless guide rabbits would appear here. They would step on every hidden trap, ensuring everyone’s safety.
He secretly scattered his will among them, carefully “imprisoning” his companions and performing one relaxed, lively fairy tale after another for them.
…Still, it wasn’t enough.
A fairy tale needed a theme. He needed a happy farewell funeral.
So the rabbits needed to prepare a banquet that would never arrive, using this as an excuse to leave the Divine Realm and explore.
The silly rabbits ran back and forth. Faced with this childish and foolish fairy tale, V.O.R didn’t become suspicious.
The farther the rabbits were from the Divine Realm, the harder they became for Roman to control, and countless rabbits were destroyed near the surface.
But it didn’t matter.
He frantically squeezed the Abnormal Fruit’s power. He only needed the “Dream Power” to seep outward, even if it was only a little.
People would be drawn here by those tiny bits of smoothness and luck. This location would become known to all curious explorers, and it would even attract the Professor’s attention.
…And those guided here by the rabbits would inevitably receive His divine power, ensuring that everything went smoothly and safely.
‘—Roman had almost succeeded,’ Myss thought.
He really had waited until Professor Gentry came—even dragging Saint Salaar and the Chaos Archdemon along for the ride. If not for the survivors forcibly staying behind, Roman would have been the only sacrifice.
Myss withdrew his magic threads in a foul mood.
In order to infect the outside world, Roman Gerard’s squeezing of the Abnormal Fruit had been terrifying. This time, he and Salaar were left with nothing but the mere rind.
“Hey, you people actually knew long ago, didn’t you?”
Myss questioned Sean and the others in displeasure. This group of guys had shouted that Roman had been taken away by a monster and had completely fooled them.
Roman dreamed of rescuing the survivors, while the survivors prayed that he would survive.
They pretended to be full of vitality and cooperated with the rabbits in performing the fairy tale, maintaining a nonexistent hope for Roman.
“After all, we saw V.O.R’s letters. Combined with the scene here, we could more or less guess… Little Roman has always been very simple. He didn’t even know to change the rabbits into some other animal.”
Sean stroked the warm crystal eggshell. “We just thought, if this place can realize wishes, then if we wished for him to survive, it might help him somewhat, right?”
“What happened?” Salaar strode to Myss’s side.
“Professor Gentry’s ‘Time Reversal’ deceives the past, while Roman’s ‘Wish Fulfillment’ deceives the present. He can only make things look better. He can’t change their essence.”
Myss said angrily, “This group of people led us here only so we would save Roman.”
His enemy’s reactions had always been quick. Salaar was stunned for two seconds, then let out an enlightened “ah.”
Myss could not help glaring at Professor Gentry.
This human had definitely guessed too. No wonder he had said nothing the entire way.
Salaar followed Myss’s gaze. Professor Gentry lowered his eyes, his expression still soaked in grief.
Just now, while divine power had been surging, Salaar had deliberately observed him. Professor Gentry had no hidden power. Without a doubt, he was only an ordinary human.
Salaar pondered for several seconds, silently stepped forward, and tried to heal the cold survivors, as well as the dying god. However, his healing magic disappeared, as if it was cast into the sea, meeting with absolutely no response.
“We can take out our Magibase.” Fiona finally spoke, her voice carrying the wet stickiness unique to dead flesh. “We were all very powerful mages. Five people’s worth of Magibase should have enough magic power…”
“This isn’t a question of whether there’s enough magic power, Fiona.” Professor Gentry finally spoke. “Mortal magic cannot heal a god, just as a rooster’s blood cannot be transfused into a human.”
Fiona bit her lip, and her complexion actually grew even paler. The smile on Sean’s face slowly vanished, and his pupils dimmed like wood carvings.
“For now, it seems we can only take the five of you away.” The Professor’s voice was dry. “I will do everything I can to preserve your bodies. If we add a powerful seal, you can last one or two weeks. You can see the sunlight again and take care of some… unfinished business.”
For a moment, the room fell into silence. The Prisoner of Dreams’ firelight gradually steadied, and candle tears slowly fell.
Myss snorted.
It seemed V.O.R’s “carelessness” toward Roman hadn’t been without reason.
That guy had known from the very beginning that Roman couldn’t refuse and couldn’t be saved. No matter how an insect struggled, in the end, it couldn’t withstand the crushing stomp of a giant.
The more Myss thought about it, the more annoyed he became. Not because he felt wronged on behalf of this group of humans, but because V.O.R had been calm and unhurried, everything going smoothly, while he and Salaar had struggled for so long, only to end up getting nothing.
The Abnormal Fruit only had a few mouthfuls of dregs left. They had to gain something, right?
“Salaar, heal Roman,” Myss said.
“I tried. It didn’t—”
“Heal Roman with me.” Myss’s tone carried an unquestionable air. “This guy’s momentum before was only a bluff. He isn’t as strong as you think.”
“What kind of joke is this? You could even injure me, but you can’t heal him? How is that possible?”
The sentence came out of nowhere, but Salaar understood.
He stared fixedly at Myss, a trace of astonishment in his eyes.
Myss was testing him, from an angle Salaar had never considered. Mortal magic couldn’t heal a god. If he really could heal Roman…
To be honest, Salaar had never thought of this possibility.
More than three hundred years ago, he had indeed been the only one who could injure Myss. But other people’s magic still had some effect. The strongest few, at the very least, could scrape through the oily skin of the tentacles.
Moreover, he would age, and he would die.
Even if he had once approached the concept of “godhood” with a mortal body, he couldn’t possibly be a true god.
When Salaar didn’t reply immediately, Myss let out a short, scoffing laugh.
He leaned close to Salaar’s ear, his tone carrying sweet malice. “Great Hero, when did you become such a coward?”
“Even if he’s a god, he’s an incomplete, half-baked mess. This poor wretch who got force-fed an Abnormal Fruit can compare to me?”
Salaar exhaled. “How do we cooperate? I remember you’re not very good at healing.”
Myss wordlessly pointed at his own eyes, then at his empty chest, gesturing the shape of the communication magic device from Semper City.
He put on a disdainful look, but his round red eyes glanced at Salaar’s face from time to time, his pride overflowing.
Salaar laughed despite himself.
The Night Scourge was destined to destroy everything. This sentence had been branded into his mind so deeply that he had forgotten other possibilities.
Myss could see the endpoint of all magic. He could cruelly pierce through the Fallen Child; he could also help him preserve the magic core of a communication magic device and remove the useless parts.
Now, they only needed to take it one step further. Cut away the unnecessary burdens and heal the most important parts.
“Don’t worry about Gentry. I’ll think of something.” Once he had recovered his wits, Salaar offered just a single remark. “Pleasure working with you, Great Genius.”
“Not a pleasure working with you, Old Fool.” Myss huffed and his pupils began dilating. “As for the rest of you, stay where you are. I’m saving your precious captain.”
Under everyone’s shocked gazes, the two of them raised their hands decisively.
Pitch-black magic rose into the air, and brilliant golden magic attached itself to it. Like light, they pierced into the cracks of the crystal egg and stabbed into the Prisoner of Dreams’ body.
Salaar’s magic felt strangely hot. Its wrapping and embrace were just as awkward as a hug. A hug was clearly his method of attacking Salaar, and Myss gave an uncomfortable shudder.
Brilliant golden light filled the crystal egg; the gloomy master bedroom now seemed to be holding a blazing midsummer sun.
Under the nourishment of the golden light, countless cracks slowly closed. Divine power flowed again. The withered white hair became glossy, and luminous white flesh grew inside the weak empty shell.
Myss curved the corners of his mouth.
His Salaar was indeed inseparable from the concept of “god.”
This was more like it. This was correct. His opponent should be the strongest existence in this world.
“How should we deal with the Abnormal Fruit? Any suggestions?”
Upon touching the Abnormal Fruit, Salaar shook the sweat from his head.
There was only that tiny bit of Abnormal Fruit left. The residue was still linked by threads, almost merged with the Prisoner of Dreams, and peeling it away would be extremely troublesome. Next, they had to be very careful…
“Merge it completely into him,” Myss said. “Can you integrate his magic circuit? Try it.”
Merge it in?
Salaar was so shocked he almost interrupted the spell. “I thought you wanted to heal Roman.”
“No, what I want to heal is the ‘Prisoner of Dreams.’”
Myss said, “The Abnormal Fruit has already been consumed to this extent, and Roman himself has divine power too. He can suppress it.”
Salaar: “…”
“I’ll point out every key point in the magic circuit for you.” Myss muttered, “You’ve researched magic for so long. You should have at least a few ideas, right?”
Salaar: “…………”
“No one’s asking you to restore all of his power. Modify his magic circuit to be a little more energy-efficient. As long as it can save his life, that’s enough.”
As Myss spoke, a bit of eagerness entered his tone, and his blood-red eyes flickered with light.
Salaar: “………………”
What kind of nonsense was this?
Even more absurdly, Myss had an instinctive understanding of the essence of magic, and this train of thought was theoretically feasible.
“Let’s do it.” Salaar took a deep breath.
Not far away, Professor Gentry watched everything with full concentration.
Magic threads wound around, and golden light flashed. They cut away the god’s flesh and created bone-chilling cracking sounds.
During the process, the pitch-black magic threads changed constantly. First, they skillfully formed into a surface, then tentatively gathered together, as if imitating Roman’s magic constructs.
After dozens of failures, the fine threads became sharp, sturdy black blades. Myss smugly raised his eyebrows.
Salaar made a thoughtful hum. Golden light fluctuated endlessly, and his magic trembled gently, tapping out an unfamiliar melody.
A trace of uplifting, lucky aura entered the healing, and Salaar winked at Myss in satisfaction.
Myss’s eyebrows collapsed, and his whole face wrinkled up.
Under Myss’s guidance, the remaining Abnormal Fruit was precisely separated by Salaar and fused into Roman’s heart. It replaced Roman’s Magibase and was perfectly embedded into the trimmed magic circuit.
Layer after layer, the two peeled away the white flesh, then the ice-crystal-like crystal eggshell, and finally Roman’s own flesh and blood.
Black was stained with brilliant gold, and flesh unfolded layer by layer, like a white flower blooming.
At the very end, the only remaining “stamen” wriggled on its own and finally took shape. The shrunken version of the “Prisoner of Dreams,” who had lost the eggshell, fell onto the four-poster bed and looked just like a… human.
The Prisoner of Dreams still emitted the aura of divine power, only it was no longer as majestic and hollow as before. His whole body was shockingly white, and long white hair draped over his entire form. His appearance was exactly the same as Roman in Myss’s memories.
Those slightly pinkish red eyes opened a little, filled with shock and confusion.
Salaar lowered his hands, his heart surging with stormy waves.
Such a reckless healing treatment had actually succeeded… His power really could interfere with divine power, and not only against Myss.
And Myss, he—
Salaar turned his head and looked at the Archdemon beside him.
Myss almost immediately felt his gaze and instantly turned over, snorting hot air at him.
“What kind of expression is that?” he stared at Salaar, his gaze quite calm, as though all of this was only natural.
“I just didn’t expect it to succeed.” Salaar stared closely at that familiar yet unfamiliar face. “Maybe it had something to do with the Prisoner of Dreams’ divine power.”
“Divine power? What are you barking about?” Myss clicked his tongue unceremoniously. “Of course you would succeed. How could you possibly fail? …Listen, you can only fail with me.”
Myss skillfully hugged him, his breath very warm, carrying the sweaty heat from exerting himself during the healing. Their magic had intertwined for too long, and their skin was as sensitive as tender flesh on a wound. Salaar suppressed a shiver.
“These wastes only know how to deceive the past and fool the present. Deception is something only the weak do.”
“…You and I are the same. We rule the future.”
Myss hugged him tightly, his tone still completely justified, as though this should naturally be the law of the mortal world.
Salaar stared fixedly at Myss’s face, which was close at hand, and didn’t respond.
He loved those words so deeply that they nearly consumed all his senses.
That wasn’t admiration as an enemy, nor was it resonance as someone strong… That matter-of-course “we” ultimately sent a tremor rolling through his body.
“Hey, Salaar… are you listening?”
Myss ignored the stunned crowd, ignored the newly born god, and cupped Salaar’s cheeks with both hands.
In the dim room, Salaar was clearly reflected in Myss’s eyes. Only Salaar.
“My judgment is absolutely correct! …For these three hundred years, I’ve been watching you every second of every minute.”
Salaar realized in astonishment that in the reflection of Myss’s eyes, he was actually smiling.
At the same moment, his heart pounded wildly as if near death, as though enduring pain even more tragic than death.
Myss was right. The Prisoner of Dreams’ divine power hadn’t offered any protection to ensure his smooth passage.
At this moment, he was finally able to confirm it. The thing he feared most had, in the end, come to pass.
The author has something to say:
These past two days have been a little rushed, like I’ve been scrambling and rolling along. That’s not good.
For key chapters, I always can’t help revising them over and over… [melting]
In any case, congratulations to Mr. Salaar for being frightened. (???
Kinky Thoughts:
Oh, here I thought we were going to get another BE. Why couldn’t Myss save Antis and Iver *sobs*.
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