Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong
Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/
Chapter 130: It Knows
The confession chamber.
Myss had a strange dream. Everything in it was pitch-black, as though he had returned to the depths of the seal. He tossed and turned on the bed, hugging the entire blanket to his chest, and slept until a dull ache throbbed through his temples.
He had definitely slept for more than eight hours.
The Archdemon realized he was awake. At the thought of having to deal with that terrifying child again, he kept his eyes firmly shut and rubbed his face against the pillow.
If he stayed like this a little longer, the Eye-Opening Ceremony would begin. He could wisely sleep until everything was over. Nothing could make him open his eyes…
…Hm?
A soft, rich aroma of meat drifted into Myss’s nose. Unable to resist, Myss cracked one eye open and saw a piece of fried meat Salaar was holding beneath his nose.
Myss lost all restraint. His mouth opened, and he bit the meat from Salaar’s fingers.
Salaar had probably boiled the cured meat to remove some of the salt, then coated it in egg and breadcrumbs before frying it into golden pieces. He also sprinkled pepper over the top, making it taste absolutely delicious.
“There’s more in the kitchen. Since you’re awake, get up.” Salaar sat beside the bed, amusement in his voice. “Hurry. I need to do your hair.”
Myss sat up with the blanket draped around him. His clothes were disheveled from sleep, leaving his upper body barely covered. His long gray-white hair was scattered everywhere, though the pomegranate blossoms miraculously remained in place.
He hesitated between “enduring the headache and boredom to keep sleeping” and “going to the kitchen to enjoy fried meat and fruit.” Ultimately, the latter won.
“Is it almost dawn?” Myss leaned toward Salaar hopefully.
At that, Salaar’s expression turned slightly grave.
“I’ve been keeping track of the time. You slept for nearly nine hours, but the sky outside is still daylight. The sunlight hasn’t changed at all.”
“Judging by when we entered the Root Church, morning has already come outside. But nothing in this room has changed, and no one has come to collect us.”
He carefully avoided using words such as “leave.”
Alarm bells rang in Myss’s head. “What does that mean? Are we really trapped?”
Salaar nodded.
Could this be a plot aimed specifically at them?
Myss crawled over to Salaar on his own and turned his back, covered in a cascade of long hair, toward him.
“Hurry and brush it. I need to investigate.”
As he spoke, he expertly held out a hand, ready to catch Knife and Fork that had been tucked into his hair. Salaar had hidden them there before they entered the confessional.
Yet Myss held out his hand for quite a while without feeling the familiar cool touch.
“Knife and Fork aren’t here. More precisely, they’ve disappeared.”
Salaar poked Myss’s open palm.
“That means this place definitely isn’t reality.”
Of course he knew perfectly this wasn’t the real world. Myss pulled his hand back irritably.
“After all your explanations, the fact remains that you can’t see through the Blind God’s trick. Is this what you call being ‘skilled in mental magic’?”
“In an illusion of this level, our perception of time is probably inaccurate.” Salaar continued combing Myss’s hair without changing expression. “In other words, how ‘long’ we stay here depends entirely on the Blind God’s will.”
“If It refuses to release us, we might spend another three hundred years together in this place.”
With that, he inserted the fiery pomegranate blossoms back into Myss’s hair. Myss had just gotten out of bed, and his hair still held a gentle warmth. It felt unusually alive beneath Salaar’s touch.
Myss didn’t find the prospect of being trapped terrifying. Instead, he found Salaar’s expression more frightening. Salaar actually looked relaxed, as though being imprisoned here wasn’t a bad thing.
“You don’t care?” Myss asked.
“First, they don’t know who we are, so this isn’t a targeted attack. Second, mental realms depend on mental strength, and I’m confident in mine. Third… now I understand why the previous sacrifices survived and all went on to form happy families.”
The single men and women carefully selected by the Blind God were bound to be attractive and of decent character.
On the surface, such a pair merely prayed together for one night. In reality, they spent an unknown length of time in this peculiar place, accompanied by an obedient “child” who resembled them both.
It was easy to understand how affection could develop between them, leading them to marry after they returned.
“…We joined the Eye-Opening Ceremony to relax in the first place.” Seeing Myss still glared furiously, Salaar continued, “Fortunately, you and I were trapped here together. We can take our time now. Since the situation is unclear, I suggest we continue step by step and wait to see what happens.”
Myss sat frozen on the bed.
His unhappiness ultimately came from being controlled by some nameless god. His pride couldn’t tolerate it. Salaar, meanwhile, had been suppressed by Myss all along. His skin was more than thick enough.
And now, time flowed differently here, so this wouldn’t delay anything outside. His mortal enemy was trapped beside him in the same miserable situation, unable to tamper with anything while Salaar was absent.
Since returning to the human world, this was probably the first time Salaar had felt so free.
The more the Archdemon watched his enemy enjoying himself, the angrier he became. The moment Salaar finished arranging his hair, Myss spun around and pounced, pinning him to the bed.
“I can’t relax. I have to find a way out first.”
Salaar took the opportunity to lift his head and kiss the tip of Myss’s nose. “Mm. I wish you success.”
Myss got up irritably and rushed toward the kitchen, deciding to carry out the first step of his revenge by eating every piece of fried meat Salaar had made.
Unfortunately, he wasn’t the only one who could smell it.
“Mommy!”
Sogné stood on tiptoe, reaching for the fried meat cooling on the rack. His mouth still shone visibly with grease.
The instant Myss appeared, he whipped his hands behind his back, looking nervous.
“Daddy said I could eat some… I washed my hands!”
At the thought of who this little brat meant by “Daddy” and “Mommy,” another wave of disgust ran through Myss, nearly making him move his arms and legs out of sync.
He wanted to beat the child up to vent his anger. But considering that Sogné was very likely the key to getting out, Myss had no choice but to force the violent impulse back into his mind.
“Children can’t eat too much,” he said stiffly, hugging the entire bowl to his chest.
“But Daddy’s cooking is really good,” Sogné said miserably. “Can I have two more pieces? …One? Mommy—”
The whining irritated Myss beyond endurance. He swiftly pulled out one piece and stuffed it into Sogné’s mouth.
Sogné blinked those lapis-lazuli eyes. They gradually curved into crescents, making him look exactly like a smug Salaar.
“Mommy is so nice.” He held the meat in both hands and spoke obediently.
Myss put another piece in his own mouth and cast a sideways glance at the boy. He diffused his pupils scanning for a Magibase but found nothing. The child was most likely an incarnation or puppet of the Blind God. He was definitely not a normal human.
Knife and Fork might be gone, but Myss still had magic. Perhaps he could probe Sogné’s memories and find some useful clues.
Once Myss formed the thought, he acted immediately. He quietly dispersed invisible magical mist, guiding it into Sogné’s nose, mouth, and ears.
“Achoo!”
Before Myss could do anything else, Sogné let out a huge sneeze and blasted away all the magic Myss had so carefully controlled.
“You can’t do that, Mommy.”
After sneezing, Sogné rubbed his nose. “Parents aren’t allowed to secretly read their children’s diaries. Memory diaries count too.”
Myss’s hand holding the bowl stiffened. A chill ran down his back.
He had only just sent his magic inside. The spell had barely begun. How did Sogné know he intended to read his memories?
As far as Myss knew, only Salaar had ever been able to identify the type of magic that quickly. Had this child inherited Salaar’s knowledge? Did the Blind God possess that kind of ability?
“I didn’t do anything. It’s Salaar’s fault for adding too much pepper,” Myss lied stubbornly.
Sogné tilted his head. His originally innocent face took on a trace of Salaar’s helplessness. “Mm. Let’s say that’s what happened.”
Then, as though gathering his courage, he added, “But I still want another piece of meat.”
Myss looked at those damned blue eyes, then at the bowl. In the end, he stuffed another piece into Sogné’s mouth.
“Eat.” He spoke reluctantly and resumed chewing himself.
Two gray-white heads, one large and one small, stood beside the sunlit window eating fried meat. Salaar had also left cream soup simmering on the stove. The bubbling broth released steam, faint rainbow colors shimmering in the sunlight.
From this angle, they could see Salaar resting in the bedroom.
He had remained awake for nine hours and was now sleeping deeply, without even closing the bedroom door. Myss stared at Salaar’s legs and bit viciously into the meat, as though it were Salaar’s calf.
Sogné looked at Myss, then at Salaar, before returning a timid gaze to Myss.
“Mommy, did you and Daddy have a fight?”
“No,” Myss said curtly, throwing another piece of meat into his mouth.
He could hardly tell the child that Myss wanted to get out as soon as possible while Salaar wanted to take things slowly in this miserable place.
Sogné said, “You look angry with him. Why are you angry?”
“Daddy is a very good person. His fried meat tastes good, and the hairstyle he gave you is pretty too… He did your hair, right? You can’t arrange that style by yourself.”
Myss’s eyes shifted as a brilliant idea struck him. “Tell me a story about the Blind God, and I’ll tell you why I’m angry.”
Sogné fell silent. Under the sunlight of the endless day, those blue eyes looked impossibly pure.
“But Mommy doesn’t care about the Blind God. And the Blind God didn’t choose Mommy.”
His tone carried an almost cruel innocence, as though he were sharing a small secret between mother and child.
Myss stopped chewing.
“Oh, I understand. Mommy gets angry with Daddy so easily because the two of you aren’t truly ‘in love.’ All of this is fake, right?”
Sogné spoke excitedly, his cheeks flushing with happiness.
“That’s wonderful. You’ll definitely be able to stay with me for a very, very long time!”
Warm sunlight wrapped around Myss, while cold foreboding slid down his spine.
This “child” knew what they had done.
That meant the Blind God knew they weren’t normal sacrifices, yet had still dragged them into this “home.”
Myss silently shifted his position, placing himself between Sogné and the bedroom door, his body blocking the sleeping Salaar from view.
He lowered his head and looked at Sogné’s face, which was immersed in happiness.
What exactly did this “god,” holed away in a desolate land, intend to do?
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