Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

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Chapter 103: A Special Gaze

The good news: for the time being, they didn’t need to deal with more humans.

Even better news: never mind potential assassins, even they themselves didn’t know where they were.

And finally, the best news of all: Owen was useless, and Peyton was only human. Those two had no idea what kind of strength they possessed. Salaar’s mind was stuck in his youth, and Father Kalen was an extraordinary kind-hearted soul.

At this moment, he, Myss, was the true ruler here in every sense!

Myss’s mood immediately improved quite a bit. Not even the damp, rotten stench of the swamp could dampen his spirits. Salaar silently moved beside him, keeping a distance that was neither close nor far.

“Can the task really continue? As far as I know, the sites for the ‘Journey to the Old Lands’ are carefully chosen. Are there really similar ruins near us?”

The Dragon Fae flew out of the pocket watch and stood on Myss’s shoulder.

No matter how calculating the great nobles were, they wouldn’t send their descendants to die for nothing.

In the “Journey to the Old Lands,” they not only equipped their young people with exceptionally capable assistants and prepared ample supplies, they also chose ruins of moderate danger in advance. Put plainly, this event was about the same as “hunting,” only it was a luxurious adventure for noble scions.

“Y-yeah.” Owen was the first to retreat. “I’ll contact the outside first and see if there are any confirmed ruins nearby. Right, and supplies… We also need supplies…”

“I grabbed the luggage when I jumped out. There shouldn’t be any problem with food for the time being.”

Father Kalen patted the bits of grass off himself, then patted the backpack at his side.

Owen ignored him. He pulled a communication crystal out of his pocket. Unfortunately, a deep crack ran across the crystal. Owen nervously tapped at it for a long time, but the crystal showed no movement.

Peyton shook his head. “A teleportation error like the one just now will make precision magic devices malfunction. They need to be readjusted before they can be used.”

“Then aren’t we trapped here?”

Owen was sweating like rain, his face turning even paler. “I heard many places in Mondicia are uninhabited zones. Now we’ve lost contact, and we don’t have much in the way of supplies. What task are we supposed to do?”

“The God of Discipline has granted us a trial. Such a test is far superior to a carefully arranged amusement park.”

Peyton spoke slowly, sounding not the least bit anxious.

Damn it, I forgot this guy is an ascetic monk.

Owen cast a hopeless glance at Salaar. Salaar was calm and unruffled, merely quietly following beside Myss, very much fitting his claim of “following his master.”

“Forget it. With such a huge commotion, the family must know something happened to us. Mag is so powerful, she can calculate where we were thrown… Someone will definitely come save us…”

Owen comforted himself, casually twisting a withered tree root from beside him to use as a walking stick.

“Since there’s no need to participate in the event anymore, do a divination.” Myss turned toward Kalen. “You know what I’m talking about.”

Kalen nodded.

Hearing the word “divination,” hope ignited in Owen’s eyes. “This priest is skilled in divination magic? Wonderful. If we head in the luckiest direction, there definitely won’t be any problem!”

Myss: “…”

No, they were preparing to head in the most ominous direction.

Previously, the priest had said there was ill fortune near the Crimson Marsh. Since they had already come all this way, it would be too much of a loss not to dig out an Abnormal Fruit while they were at it. They could look for a way out along the way too.

The priest nodded readily.

He deliberately placed the two hands with rings behind his back and closed his eyes in a very convincing “sensing” posture for a while. “Southwest.”

After saying this, he opened his eyes and swept an inquisitive gaze over everyone, mainly looking at their nominal supervisor, Peyton.

“This is your task. You make the decision,” Peyton said lightly.

Owen’s face was full of delight. “We need to leave here quickly. If we encounter one of those high-risk ruins, things will become troublesome.”

Salaar: “High-risk ruins?”

Owen glared at him as if looking at an idiot. “You don’t know? Mondicia’s Night Scourge ruins are especially well preserved. Alchemy from that era was quite strange. Who knows how many alchemical monsters they created.”

“I saw one in Serpentis’ black market. That thing was only the size of a housecat, but its tail could shatter a person’s head.”

Halfway through speaking, Owen tried to climb down from the tree root. The moment the tip of his shoe touched the swamp, the patch of wet mud seemed to come alive, opening its mouth and sucking at his boot, intending to swallow Owen whole.

Owen was so frightened that he pulled his foot back and tightly clung to the roots of the giant tree. Forget any direction forward, he couldn’t even take the first step.

Owen looked toward Peyton for help, while Peyton silently looked at Salaar. Salaar pondered for a few seconds, then very naturally tugged at Myss’s clothes. “Lord Myss, please send us down.”

Myss shivered from being called that.

He threw Salaar a complicated look and was just about to act when he saw Father Kalen consciously break off a large pile of withered roots and throw them onto the swamp below.

The aquatic grass on the swamp was flattened by the dead branches. It no longer looked as ferocious as muddy soup, but it wasn’t exactly inviting.

“When I was on the tree, I looked around. There’s land over there.”

The priest said warmly, “As long as you use the right kind of force, you can cross by stepping on these things. Remember to take small quick steps. Don’t step straight down and be careful not to trip over the tree roots.”

Myss tucked “Brave Salaar” into his arms and secured it tightly with his belt.

Immediately after, he sighed, walked in front of Salaar, and somewhat reluctantly turned around. “Get on.”

Salaar: “What?”

“‘You’ can’t use magic and aren’t exactly athletic. This is the fastest way.” Myss snorted. “Hurry up and get on. So annoying. Or do you want your ‘brothers’ to carry you down?”

The moment Myss thought that this Salaar might treat him and the likes of Peyton as equal subjects of observation, his whole body felt uncomfortable. Moreover, having him “control” Salaar was the most obvious way to display power, at least that was what Myss told himself.

Facing Myss, whose build was a whole size smaller than his own, Salaar gestured with both hands for a while and for a moment didn’t know where to start. Myss grew impatient from waiting. He abruptly turned his back, wrapped both arms around him, and barely managed to carry Salaar on his back.

Salaar’s body was solid, and Myss’s shoulders weren’t broad enough, making the carrying posture exceptionally awkward. Myss gritted his teeth and directly jumped onto the swamp.

The moment he stepped on those grass leaves, his magic threads swiftly took shape beneath the muddy water. They formed an invisible dense net, the ends fixed onto nearby tree trunks, making it quite solid to step on.

Thus, Lord Archdemon carried the large Salaar and sprinted rapidly in a rather undignified posture, like a wildcat fleeing with a large fish in its mouth.

The moment he stepped onto firm ground, Myss silently withdrew his magic threads. However, Salaar was too heavy, and Myss couldn’t brake as calmly as before, causing the two of them to tumble into the grass.

Salaar twisted his body in time, letting Myss fall on top of him. Lying once again on his familiar hero cushion, with his head pressed against Salaar’s chest, Myss went dazed for several seconds.

Only after a long while did he prop himself up and glared at Salaar. “…Listen, I just hate trouble.”

If the Karns family didn’t have such immense influence and truly could cause them trouble, Myss wouldn’t mind directly burying those two outsiders in the swamp.

Salaar stared fixedly at Myss, as if looking at something he completely couldn’t understand.

“What kind of attitude is that? I only carried you once,” Myss muttered, trying to get up.

“…”

Salaar reached out with both hands, his warm palms cupping Myss’s cheeks. This forced him to stop moving and continue lying on Salaar’s chest.

“…Why are you looking at me like that?”

Myss was baffled. “How am I looking at you?”

Young Salaar had no shortage of nonsense either. Wasn’t Myss just looking with the two eyes on his face? How else was he supposed to look?

He had always looked at Salaar this way. As for other humans… other humans weren’t worth him looking at properly. Myss admitted that he hadn’t been happy lately and had indeed been ignoring the young Salaar, but this guy’s reaction seemed excessive.

Hearing Myss’s confusion, Salaar’s expression stiffened slightly.

He didn’t answer at once. He only lightly brushed the pads of his thumbs over Myss’s eyebrows and eyelids. It was almost like a blind person stroking a gorgeous relief, trying to understand a world he had never imagined and could hardly imagine.

Salaar’s palms weren’t delicate. They had the tiny scars left behind by Kendrick, as well as the thin calluses developed by Hero Salaar’s training. They gently combed over Myss’s eyebrows, the sensation somewhat cool.

Myss still looked at Salaar suspiciously, wanting to know what was wrong with this guy. Being touched made him somewhat uncomfortable. He sensed a trace of subtle hesitation and cherishing from the touch, emotions that felt out of place in this moment.

“Nothing.” In the end, Salaar slowly withdrew his hands.

Myss irritably shoved Salaar’s hands aside. “If it’s nothing, then hurry up and get up.”

He zipped to the side and vigorously patted the dust from his clothes, trying to pat away that inexplicable discomfort just now as well.

The second to arrive was the priest.

Seeing that Myss and the others had successfully made it, Father Kalen braced himself against the tree trunk and flew over with a leap. The Dragon Fae tugged at the back of his collar, happily hitching a ride.

Owen dawdled on the tree for a long time. Finally, out of patience, Peyton bound him with his Magibase python and slithered along the flattened grass leaves. Peyton himself formed pale blue magic platforms underfoot and elegantly strolled over.

“If we can’t even walk properly, how are we supposed to find the ruins?”

Owen staggered two steps forward, then his foot lurched. Clearly, he had stepped into another swamp pit hidden beneath the grass.

Then he looked at the surrounding trees. The lush trunks completely blocked out the sunlight, and countless vines hung between the branches, lightly swaying like nooses. No matter how one looked at it, the scene felt deeply ominous.

And then there were the human faces on the ground… human faces?

Owen once again displayed his rare talent, using a piercing scream to draw everyone’s attention.

“A face!” Owen backed up several steps and nearly tripped over a tree root protruding from the ground. “There’s a human face over there!”

Myss hurriedly craned his neck to look.

The human face was seven or eight steps away from them, embedded between the dark wet mud. Its skin was deathly pale, its eyes wide open, and a faint smile still hung at the corners of its mouth. At first glance, it was easy to mistake it for a white mushroom or a clean stone.

That face had no smell of decay, nor any trace of rotting. Myss sensed it for a moment. It emitted extremely faint magic, so faint it was barely perceptible.

…An intact human face appearing in an uninhabited area? Interesting.

Seeing Salaar standing in place without moving, Peyton sighed. “Don’t lower your guard. I’ll go take a look.”

“If I were you, I wouldn’t go over.”

The moment Peyton took his first step, Salaar spoke at just the right time. “That’s not a human face.”

Owen almost choked on his own saliva. “What did you say?”

“Its eyes and lips are all upside down.” Salaar said. “At least, I have never seen a person with a face like that —”

Before his voice had finished falling, that face’s eyes rolled, staring straight at the group.

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The author has something to say:

Salaar: If I confess directly to my archenemy, I’m afraid he won’t believe it. Then I’ll demonstrate it physically again. [OK]

This arc will peel Salaar’s onion layers. (?

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