Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong
Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/
Chapter 76: Among the Grass
Myss succeeded.
For the first time in three hundred years, Salaar felt such utter despair.
He was only a gear obstructing the operation of Night Scourge. The many pains he felt must surely be useful to the human world.
Wounds deep enough to reveal bone would heal. The world would continue after his death… Nothing had been settled yet and hope for the future still remained.
But this was different.
Salaar finally realized that he truly couldn’t control that love. He could heal every injury, but only this festering wound on his heart couldn’t be erased.
Everything was for the sake of ending the Night Scourge. Then what was he supposed to do with his corroded heart?
Salaar wouldn’t submit to this pain. Giving up had never been his choice.
As for the other choices… Myss knew next to nothing about human love. As long as Salaar deliberately guided him, he could at least satisfy his own desires. Salaar could hear it. In some dark corner of his heart, a voice wailed amid the searing agony of his love: Seduce him. Indulge. Myss must pay the price.
“No,” Salaar answered soundlessly.
Knife climbed onto his wrist and silently watched Salaar. Under the moonlight, those blue eyes were like two stars.
“‘Love’ should be something beautiful,” he said to it. “Even if I’m in such a sorry state, this is still my first love. I don’t want to sully it.”
“You two won’t have a good ending.” Knife flicked out its tongue.
“What a coincidence. Most people’s first loves don’t have good endings.”
Salaar looked toward the vast starry sky. “I have pursued a certain result my entire life. If I insist on judging even this kind of matter solely by the result, that would be too pitiful.”
“So, what do you plan to do? …Keep pretending you aren’t moved, and smother your feelings into the grave?”
Knife moved closer, its thin voice like an interrogation. “Since you’ve decided to move forward, there should at least be a direction.”
The night wind roamed freely through the wilderness, and the tentacle lilies rustled and swayed.
Salaar stretched out his foot, the tip of his boot touching the tender tentacle closest to him. The tentacle reflexively opened, then tapped him twice more.
The motion didn’t have much force. Salaar only felt a little ticklish at the tip of his foot. On his back, Myss’s breathing sped up slightly, and he mumbled twice in his dream.
A nearly sorrowful happiness climbed up Salaar’s spine, and he let out a long breath.
“When dealing with an enemy, one should use the cruelest method.” Salaar withdrew his gaze from the tentacle.
“I intend to ‘truly love’ him.”
He wanted Myss to be like him, to have a wound in his heart that couldn’t heal, and to feel this torment of despair.
Even if, in the very end, humanity couldn’t contend with Myss. As long as that wound could make Myss hesitate for one second when he destroyed the world, hesitate for one minute…
That would be the last bit of time the so-called “Saint Salaar” won for the mortal world.
…And it would also be the epitaph for his tragic love.
Salaar slowly put Myss down. His movements were very gentle, and Myss remained asleep.
Moonlight wound through that long hair. The night was dim, but Salaar could still clearly see the lapis-lazuli hair ribbon at the ends of Myss’s hair, as well as his rosy cheeks and lips.
Salaar gently brushed away the strands that had drifted onto Myss’s cheek, lowered his head, and kissed him.
The tip of his tongue decisively pried open the gap between Myss’s teeth. This time, Salaar kissed with great composure, as though drawing a sword and thrusting it at his own fate.
Myss’s hands groped around and skillfully hooked around Salaar’s neck. Only then did he open his eyes slightly. As the dream ended and his power scattered, all those pitch-black tentacle lilies vanished.
Myss didn’t resist the kiss.
He lazily stretched his body among the wild grass. The tip of his tongue curled lightly, and it was hard to tell who was tasting whom. Their breaths mingled together and kept heating up.
Myss’s magical garments rustled against the grass. Perhaps his emotions were somewhat unstable, but the fabric at his shoulders and neck scattered like the tentacle lilies, revealing his bare shoulders.
Salaar’s fingertips brushed over the skin exposed to the cold wind. His enemy had become his instrument strings, trembling lightly beneath his touch.
It was an incomparably long kiss. Even a warrior like Salaar, who excelled at controlling his body, kissed until his breathing fell into disorder.
During the brief gap to breathe, Myss gave a few quiet hums, sounding quite satisfied. Who knew whether he was satisfied with the kiss or satisfied with Salaar’s infatuation.
Just as Myss turned over and prepared to climb onto his hero cushion, Salaar decisively stood up.
Myss: “?”
The night wind immediately scattered Salaar’s remaining warmth, chilling Myss into a shiver.
“We should head back.”
Salaar extended a hand toward him, his gaze gently and persistently wrapping around Myss.
Myss licked the wet corner of his mouth and didn’t move.
He discovered, not particularly surprised, that a certain part of him and Salaar had changed again. Myss subconsciously raised his fist. Thinking of the unforgettable pain from last time, he resentfully lowered his claws again.
How did humans handle this again…? At least in the slave’s memories, humans didn’t like handling it in front of other people. His memories about this matter lacked detail, so for the moment, he didn’t know where to begin.
Was he supposed to just go back like this?
Myss didn’t care about human notions of shame, but if he punched himself, his body would feel terrible. Leaving it alone also felt terrible…
“Hey, Salaar, tell me how to handle this.” Myss demanded as he sat unceremoniously sprawled out on the grass.
His body temperature was still on the high side, and his breaths turned into clouds of white mist.
“Say ‘please,’” Salaar said, crossing his arms.
“How polite.” Myss feigning ignorance. “Very good. I permit you to assist me.”
Salaar chuckled softly and crossed his arms even tighter.
Myss’s eyes turned. “How about this? You deal with yours here and let me see how you do it.”
“That won’t be necessary.” Salaar tugged at his pants. “It’ll take quite a while to walk back. It can go down on its own.”
Myss let out a disgruntled huff and stuck firmly to the ground, staring at Salaar unhappily.
Lord Archdemon didn’t mind hardship, but he truly didn’t want to suffer for no reason. There would be plenty of days ahead. Was he supposed to pay this kind of price every time he tempted Salaar in the future?
As he thought about it, Myss flopped back onto the ground with a thump, clearly taking the stance of, if you don’t teach me, I won’t get up.
Salaar sighed with exasperation. “You said that for those centuries in the seal, you were always watching humans. I thought you knew the details. My companions never deliberately restrained themselves.”
Myss retorted indignantly, “I didn’t watch them. I only watched you. You never did this kind of thing, so I thought you didn’t have that function.”
“If I’d known this earlier, I should’ve looked at more of that taxidermist’s memories. When we reach the next city, I’ll go observe other humans—”
Salaar drew in a soft breath.
After a long while, he slowly sat down in the grass and patted his thigh. “…Forget it. Come here. I’ll teach you.”
Myss moved over in victory and sat on Salaar’s lap.
Salaar’s body heat wrapped around him from behind, blocking the cold night wind. Salaar’s legs were harder than his chest, but they felt much better than the dry grass.
Salaar’s left arm circled his waist, and his right hand reached over lightly. Myss cooperatively released part of his magic. The tips of the grass brushed lightly in the wind, grazing the skin of his thighs.
Salaar’s chin rested against Myss’s shoulder, his body abnormally tense. His palm was far rougher than it looked. Myss’s breathing abruptly grew rapid, and he instinctively gave a few convulsive jerks, a layer of hot sweat seeping from his back.
Salaar shifted his arm. His left hand cupped Myss’s restless head and held him fully embedded in his embrace.
Myss couldn’t move, so he could only stare fixedly at that hand motion that was rising and falling.
His body temperature rose again, and his urgent panting turned into flickering white vapor. Myss felt that trembling was a little embarrassing, but he couldn’t stop his body from spasming. As a show of force, he opened his mouth and bit Salaar’s left hand, which was holding his chin.
The web between Salaar’s thumb and index finger was bitten, and a tiny bead of blood seeped out.
Salaar’s body remained as unyielding as iron. The only change was the strength of his grip of his hands by a few degrees. Finally, unable to endure any longer, Myss instinctively reach out and licked Salaar’s bleeding wound.
The tongue against the wound was searing, and for a fleeting instant, Salaar’s movement froze.
What followed bore little resemblance to “teaching”; it felt more like a swift decisive combat operation. By the time the “anomaly” was resolved, Myss was nearly choking on his ragged breath.
Salaar, meanwhile, sprang to his feet with such suddenness that he nearly sent Myss flying.
“All right. Let’s go.” The Great Hero swiftly turned around, and the light of a cleansing spell brushed over his right hand.
Myss’s mind was somewhat blank, his thoughts as if soaked in fog. He had wanted to run in front of Salaar and see this guy’s condition, but his legs were weak, and he simply couldn’t catch up with Salaar’s steps.
When they found the priest and the Dragon Fae again, Salaar looked completely normal, whether in expression or body, as if nothing had happened just now.
On the contrary, Myss’s face still had a lingering flush, and his steps were unsteady, earning him a meaningful look from the Dragon Fae.
As night had fallen, the priest rented two decent tents, and the group decided to camp out right where they were. As the only “couple” in the team, Myss and Salaar shared one tent.
As for why Myss had woken up in the wilderness, Salaar’s explanation was that “your magic was a little out of control, and I was afraid of attracting Professor Gentry’s attention.” Myss accepted it for the time being.
But no matter how it was explained, Myss still felt annoyed, as if he had been left at a disadvantage.
In just that short time when he had failed to keep an eye on Salaar, Salaar had secretly changed. Compared with his loss of composure in Hope Dungeon, Salaar’s emotions had stabilized quite a bit, and he had turned back into that tenacious and annoying bastard.
What they had done just now was undoubtedly something human lovers would do. Yet Salaar had quickly calmed his emotions, leaving only Myss alone in utter disarray.
How exactly was he supposed to defeat this guy?
While Salaar turned around to arrange the sleeping bag, Myss resentfully stretched out a finger and gave a hard poke at Salaar’s waist.
Salaar: “—!”
With just that one poke, Salaar jolted from head to toe as if electrocuted, and his ears were quickly stained red.
He turned his head to glance at Myss and heaved a fierce sigh at his mortal enemy’s face.
Myss: “?”
Myss felt a sense of balance being restored.
The next second, Salaar stuffed him from head to toe into the sleeping bag and ruthlessly tied two knots in it with a belt, turning him into a freshly made Myss cocoon.
“Sleep.” Salaar tossed the Myss cocoon toward the inside of the tent.
“What about you?” Myss struggled to poke his head out.
Salaar: “I’ll curse you in my heart for a while. I’ll sleep once I’ve cursed enough.”
“…Oh.”
……
The next day was clear and sunny, and Professor Gentry prepared to leave one step ahead.
The Archmage stated that this exploration had “yielded no results, and only Roman’s lost landmark nails were found.” He and his students planned to return and hold a funeral for the “missing” Roman.
He left behind letters of introduction addressed to the United Library. For the group of four, everyone had one.
The only flaw in an otherwise perfect situation was that this exploration had been too short, not even lasting a full week. According to the contract, Myss and Salaar could only receive a total of one thousand gold rings.
Upon hearing that they didn’t have storage accounts, Professor Gentry gave them a pure-gold signet ring.
“This is a savings ring from the Dawn Guild. There are one thousand gold rings inside,” he explained. “Once you reach Serpentia City, go to the Dawn Guild and verify it. Then you can use it freely.”
A little troublesome, but Myss could understand for the time being.
One thousand gold rings in cash would be quite heavy. Professor Gentry couldn’t possibly carry such a massive sum with him, and Myss didn’t want to shoulder large bags of it either.
According to the agreement before the exploration, Salaar’s share of the payment nominally belonged entirely to Myss. The moment Salaar received the gold ring, he handed it to Myss.
“Thank you for taking care of us these past few days. We learned quite a bit.”
After watching Myss happily fiddle with the ring for a while, Salaar nodded to Professor Gentry.
“I should be the one thanking you.” Professor Gentry sighed softly. “If not for you, we would have been destined to gain nothing. We might even have died down there.”
He lowered his head and looked at the soil overgrown with weeds. Only they knew that beneath the thick earth and stone, there was a Divine Realm hidden away like a fairy tale.
The Magibase elephant let out a long cry. Myss raised his head just in time to see Professor Gentry crouch down, his palm gently stroking the grass, much as one might affectionately ruffle the hair of their favorite student.
After a long while, the Kingdom Archmage withdrew his hand, and a few bits of grass slipped from between his fingers.
“Thank you,” he repeated solemnly.
Beverly and Asp were in low spirits. They had forgotten the dreamlike underground Divine Realm and only remembered that “the depths completely collapsed.” With red-rimmed eyes, the two bid farewell to the group through the carriage window, only treating the entire expedition as a disappointing failure.
The team watched Professor Gentry board the carriage, and the wheels raised clouds of dust.
From beginning to end, Salaar didn’t mention that magic artifact merchant.
So far, the magic artifact merchant named Kai hadn’t harm them. Professor Gentry meeting someone else wasn’t something he was obligated to report to strangers like them.
But if someone said all of this was coincidence, Salaar absolutely wouldn’t believe it.
Kai was definitely not a simple magic artifact merchant. Wherever he went, traces of Abnormal Fruit always appeared.
Although Kai called Gentry “Uncle Gentry,” neither his appearance nor his aura bore any resemblance to Professor Gentry. If one had to find a common point, Salaar could only think of one.
They both didn’t believe in gods.
Around them, the lively gathering continued. People spread tales of good luck that no longer existed and regarded it as a miracle.
“At this rate, a village will develop nearby.” Tass related with great interest. “In another decade or so, maybe it’ll become a town.”
The priest nodded pleasantly.
Assuming you’re still alive in a decade or so, Myss wrinkled his nose. Salaar shot him a sidelong glance, then stepped forward to block Myss’s hostile gaze.
He raised his head again and looked toward Professor Gentry’s carriage. The carriage had already turned into a faint black dot on the horizon, like a grain of sand sinking into the center of a lake.
Yet the ripples it raised didn’t disappear.
“Speaking of which, I have a question I’m extremely curious about.”
Salaar turned toward Kalen and Tass.
“How much do you two know about that ‘godless’ Stargazers Society?”
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