Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong
Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/
Chapter 101: Journey to the Old Lands
In a rare moment, Salaar hesitated.
He looked at the tightly shut door, then at Myss in front of the fireplace. Only after a long while did he speak. “If you have something to say, say it tomorrow.”
Outside the door, there was silence for a few seconds. “I only came to convey Grandfather’s words.”
“Owen admitted that he smeared ‘Return to Youth’ on your cutlery. Although we don’t know how you avoided the drug’s effect, Grandfather asked me to bring you the antidote.”
“Since it’s inconvenient for you, I will leave the antidote at your door.”
Peyton’s tone was ordinary. It was hard to tell whether this was because his personality was indifferent, or because he had long grown used to “Kendrick’s” ways. After the soft sound of a metal tray touching the floor, Peyton’s footsteps gradually receded.
Before Salaar had time to stand, Myss turned into a blur and shot toward the door with a bang. Lord Archdemon opened the door at a dazzling speed and grabbed the small bottle from the tray.
In the blink of an eye, Myss changed direction, slammed into Salaar, and pressed him straight onto the bed.
Black magic threads instantly extended, binding Salaar’s limbs firmly to the four posts of the bed. Myss sat on Salaar’s stomach with a stern face and pulled the stopper from the little medicine bottle. The mouth of the bottle made a soft pop, and the wooden stopper silently rolled onto the carpet.
The magic threads brushed over his skin, and Salaar’s pupils abruptly widened. “The aura of the Chaos Archdemon.”
A moment later, he narrowed his eyes again. “No, not right. The aura is somewhat weak. What are you? …A Night Scrouge worshiper who consumed excessive magic source? Or perhaps a Divine Attendant of the Chaos Archdemon?”
Myss ignored him completely.
His power hadn’t fully recovered. To explain the situation clearly, he would have to describe all those damned previous events in full detail, and in the end, this Salaar might not even believe him. He had no intention of rushing to explain things to this guy.
Myss worked hard to sniff that opaque bottle. The liquid inside had a very faint scent, only an uncomfortable sweet fragrance. It didn’t smell like something that could be swallowed.
“I suggest you don’t feed me that.”
Seeing that Myss said nothing, Salaar immediately changed topics. “At the dinner, I said there was no need to stop the kill order. That sentence didn’t specify when it would take effect. Someone may exploit that loophole.”
“If that truly is the antidote… as you said, the me from three hundred years later is ‘more useful.’ For you, this is also an opportunity, an opportunity to avoid being watched by ‘the me from three hundred years later.’”
Myss’s movements paused slightly.
He lowered his eyes and stared into those lapis-lazuli eyes. Young Salaar’s eyes were blank, making him think of… a very long time ago.
Myss actually had some impression of Salaar in this state.
Only, back then, Myss hadn’t yet developed true consciousness. He only knew to take everything into his sight unconditionally. Those memories were like something seen through a thick layer of ice, stiff and blurry.
But he remembered that Salaar, when he had just entered the darkness, neither sang off-key songs nor harassed his tentacles.
Of course, Salaar would give the army the most perfect commands and look after every human’s condition and daily life… but Salaar didn’t really have friends. He had always lived all alone.
Once, Salaar buried a companion who had taken their own life. He had lain like this atop the barren graveyard, instinctively looking toward the abyss-like “sky,” lying there for half the day.
Myss, who had not yet gained consciousness, had also instinctively looked down at this lonely person. At the time, Myss couldn’t even tell whether that was a human or a corpse.
…Did Salaar voluntarily drink “Return to Youth” truly only to make things difficult for him?
Perhaps that guy wanted to prove something through this, or had hidden some other scheme. He couldn’t simply waste this opportunity. There were indeed things he could do.
Myss climbed off Salaar’s body but didn’t untie him.
“You’re right.” He moved back to the fireplace and said stiffly, “You turning into this wretched state is a good opportunity for me.”
Myss stuffed the antidote into an inner pocket and wrapped himself back into the quilt.
He once again recalled the “ink hole,” attempting to return to his true body again. Unfortunately, after recalling for a long while, the memories from back then were like sand between his fingers. The harder he tried to remember, the more indistinct the details became.
In a full five minutes of recollection, all Myss remembered was Salaar interrupting him with bites and kisses, and he grew angry for a while.
No, he couldn’t continue blindly relying on instinct, Myss thought.
Since he had gained intelligence, he should make good use of this new ability. Back then, he had nearly succeeded, proving that, in theory, a way to bypass the seal existed.
If memory was unreliable, he could properly study that copy of ‘Brave Salaar’ and find out the exact principle behind the “Sea of Concepts” backdoor.
The quilt bundle slowly moved to the luggage rack. Myss stretched out one hand and fumbled through the air for a long while. Only then did he remember that ‘Brave Salaar’ and their luggage were both with the priest.
He could only talk about it tomorrow. Myss unhappily sighed.
He wrapped himself up with the quilt and moved toward the fireplace like a snail. Without proper business to focus on, that “sadness” like a stomach full of gooseberries surged up again.
Fork moved around in his pocket. Myss moved around inside the quilt, unhappily punching the air.
“Let me go.” Seeing Myss wriggling back and forth on the carpet, Salaar finally spoke.
Myss pretended not to hear.
“Before I understand the situation, I won’t harm you,” Salaar said sincerely.
“You already said we’re enemies. Do I need a reason to tie up an enemy?” Myss snorted.
Salaar: “…”
He quieted as if giving up and didn’t speak again.
Myss curled up in front of the fireplace and closed his eyes drowsily. In the end, fire was still different from a person’s body heat. Myss didn’t sleep well all night and had a whole night of messy, fragmented dreams.
Early the next morning.
“Tsk tsk tsk, the potion wore off?”
Seeing the binding marks on Salaar’s wrists and the bluish shadows beneath Myss’s eyes, the Dragon Fae nearly bit his tongue off.
“No.” Myss snapped.
The Dragon Fae raised his brows. He flew in a circle around Myss, keenly sensing that something was wrong.
So he shook his wings hard and pretended the previous topic had never existed. “After you two left yesterday, Miss Queenie said ‘Kendrick’ seemed off and suspected someone had tampered with the dinner.”
“Peyton exposed Owen’s guilty conscience, and Ratliff, the old man who is the family head, docked Owen’s allowance and had Peyton deliver the antidote for ‘Return to Youth’ to you.”
“The antidote is with me. Anyway, someone can handle it himself, so he can undo it whenever he wants.”
Myss snorted but still stuffed the bottle of antidote to the priest. “Check whether there’s poison in it. Give it back to me after you identify it.”
Father Kalen readily accepted the medicine bottle.
“…Also, they decided on three tasks.”
The Dragon Fae continued.
“First, stay in the Aufon Kingdom, go to the border to deal with runaway wolf packs, and bring back five hundred personally processed wolf pelts by the end of the year.”
“There aren’t many months left before the end of the year, and the environment over there is especially terrible. This job is purely suffering. The priest and I don’t recommend it.”
“Second, go to Evening Star City in Atla, deal with the Karns family members there, and audit their accounts. After returning, your results will be compared with another group of auditors.”
“This one is theoretically much easier and won’t take too long. However, if the kill order isn’t canceled, the people there are very likely to assist in the assassination.”
“As for the third…”
When he reached this point, the Dragon Fae and Father Kalen exchanged a glance, his voice lowering a little. “Participate in the ‘Journey to the Old Lands’ in the Crimson Marsh and retrieve at least one artifact related to Saint Salaar.”
Myss: “What thing?”
Salaar’s brows twitched, and he raised his head as well.
Tass sighed. “Journey to the Old Lands. It’s an exploration event that has long been popular among great nobles.”
“The Crimson Marsh is in Mondicia. That country’s environment is dreadful. Very few people build cities over there, so many ruins from the Night Scourge period remain.”
“These great nobles are basically all descendants of important figures from the Night Scourge era. They like having their younger generations participate in this to temper them, form connections, and remember the glory of their families… things like that.”
Myss roughly understood.
The first task had no social pressure, but it was extremely boring and purely a waste of time.
The second task was a human social hell, and they would have to worry about endless assassinations like summer mosquitoes.
The third… The amount of socializing was fairly moderate, and assassination wasn’t that convenient. The greatest danger was the harsh environment, but what Myss cared least about was a harsh environment. Moreover, he would have a chance to discover some secrets of the Night Scourge.
“The third one.” Myss didn’t hesitate.
Father Kalen let out a breath and revealed an expression of relief. “I agree.”
The priest was actually this proactive. Myss couldn’t help raising his brows. “Why?”
“Last night, Tass told me the three tasks, and I did divinations on each. There is a great ominous presence near the Crimson Marsh, and it’s very likely related to V.O.R. Also…”
The priest hesitated for a moment, then continued, “Also, these past few days, I have been investigating the Stargazers Society.”
“I discovered that they have a fanatical obsession with ‘collecting knowledge from the Night Scourge era.’ There must be many Stargazers hidden over there in the Crimson Marsh. I have things I want to ask them.”
That masked person had said the exact same words as Hermit. That was absolutely not a coincidence.
The prayer of the Order of Shadows had been buried in the black hole together with that knowledge. Since the Stargazers Society was obsessed with collecting them, they most likely also knew something about the Order of Shadows.
A trip to the Crimson Marsh would be killing two birds with one stone, including the search for Hermit.
Myss’s brows rose higher and higher. “The divination result was ‘ominous’? Why didn’t you say so just now?”
“Because this is your private matter, and it concerns both of your lives. I have no right to encourage you to make a choice for my own benefit,” Kalen shook his head.
“Of course, if you had chosen the first or second, I would have gone to the Crimson Marsh with this guy one step ahead,” Tass timely added. “After all, with your abilities, the first two tasks can’t threaten you.”
“…I also agree to accept the third task.”
Only after listening to everyone’s conversation did Salaar speak.
Myss only felt as if something light and sticky had stuck behind his ear. He reached out and scratched, but there was nothing on his skin. Then he turned his head and happened to meet those hateful lapis-lazuli eyes.
Salaar was watching him as always. Even though this gaze had returned, Myss still didn’t feel satisfied.
It was still different. That gaze was missing something crucial.
Lord Archdemon turned his head back and walked toward the Karns family dining room with his chest high, preparing to accept the task early and leave.
……
“What?!” Owen shouted.
“Grandfather said that since Kendrick wants to participate in the ‘Journey to the Old Lands,’ you will go with him,” Peyton said calmly. “This year, the Karns family happens to have three spots.”
“And aside from Kendrick, you are the one most in need of tempering, my dear brother.” Queenie cut the fish on her plate, her tone faintly gloating.
A vein burst on Owen’s forehead. “Queenie!”
“Think of it positively. At least it will be most convenient for you to assassinate him. After all, ‘each family may bring up to two assistants.’” Queenie laughed softly. “Don’t you think so, Cousin Magnolia?”
Magnolia didn’t respond. She kept her head down and ate, as if the fried egg on her plate were a once-in-a-millennium wonder.
Queenie curved the corner of her mouth and shook her head with a smile.
“Grandfather already gave the assistant spots to that hateful slave and that priest of unknown origin. This is punishment, damn it!”
Owen waved his knife and fork in dissatisfaction, even though Myss and Father Kalen were dining at the table.
While complaining, he secretly glanced at Salaar and Peyton at the table.
Salaar was eating breakfast unhurriedly, completely ignoring him. Peyton also chewed without raising his head, as if this were only an ordinary morning.
Among everyone present, only Myss’s expression was about as foul as Owen’s.
“The kill order has already taken effect now. You all just wait.” Owen finished eating his bacon as if being tortured and left only this sentence behind.
After the meal, Myss retrieved that copy of ‘Brave Salaar’ from Kalen, preparing to carry it with him and study it intensively.
On the premise, of course, that someone didn’t stick close after the meal.
“Your hair is messy,” Salaar said.
“Because you were the one taking care of it before.”
Myss had no luggage to prepare. He returned to the fireplace again, warming himself by the fire, basking in the sunlight, and aiming his back at Salaar.
Salaar was silent for a while. He picked up a comb and sat on the carpet in front of the fireplace. His fingertips slid over the dense comb teeth, and he stared fixedly at Myss’s lapis-lazuli hair ribbon.
It was the same color as his eyes, specially adorned with delicate stone beads. One could see that the person who had modified it had put considerable care into it. Moreover, the way it had been stitched was clearly his own handiwork.
“Why do I comb your hair?” Salaar asked.
“How would I know?” Myss said. “You might as well ask yourself. Your combing technique is so practiced. It’s not the first time.”
“As far as I know, this is something only done between family members or lovers.” Salaar thought for a moment. “May I comb it for you?”
“Suit yourself.” Myss lowered his head and studied the picture book.
He didn’t want to pay attention to Salaar, but having messy hair also annoyed Myss. Compared to the Dragon Fae, the priest, or some random servant helping, Myss would rather let Salaar comb it.
Salaar’s fingers gently touched his hair, then swiftly withdrew, before touching it again. After that, the comb teeth gently sank into the gray-white hair, and faint light drifted with the comb.
Myss’s braid became neat, but his thoughts were somewhat chaotic.
Young Salaar had determined that he was related to the Chaos Archdemon, and his gaze had begun following him again. Young Salaar’s hair-combing technique was practiced, and the size of his hands hadn’t changed… Yet, at this moment, they were still enemies.
Clearly, nothing had changed, yet Myss felt that it wasn’t quite the same. The various details of how he and Salaar got along had now become subtle and unfamiliar.
The air in the room grew heavier and heavier, and Myss felt a little stifled. He instinctively wanted to do something to break free from this sticky silence.
“You said that you used to belong to the ‘Magic Interference faction’ and believed the source of Night Scourge was an inanimate object.”
Myss suddenly spoke. “Now I am telling you that the source of Night Scourge is a living thing. The ‘Chaos Archdemon’ truly exists.”
Salaar’s movements stopped.
“All right. You may state your thoughts now.”
Myss mumbled, “The goal you clung to so desperately truly exists, and is alive. Happy?”
He didn’t look back. For some unknown reason, he didn’t want to see Salaar’s current expression.
“That means He can be killed, and the Night Scrouge can be brought to a complete end,” Salaar said. “I once had such a hypothesis, a very ideal hypothesis.”
Sure enough, Myss smacked his lips madly in his heart and waited for Salaar’s next thoughts.
But he waited and waited, but no impassioned speech from Salaar came.
Myss forced himself not to turn his head. “That’s it?”
“What should I say?” Salaar asked back and continued combing his hair.
“You were born for the Chaos Archdemon and will die for the Chaos Archdemon, and that’s all you feel?”
“…”
Salaar pondered for a long time. “I don’t know what the me from three hundred years later is like. But my obsession with the source of the Night Scourge is only my instinct.”
“If the Chaos Archdemon God is a living thing, and even possesses intelligence, then I wouldn’t communicate with Him. That way, my thinking can remain as objective as possible.”
Myss: “?”
The author has something to say:
Myss: [angry] Like hell I believe you… (omitted)
Salaar’s “Thirty-Six Stratagems of Love”. [OK]
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