Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong
Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/
Chapter 152: The Inhuman Fog
Myss: “Exactly. In a bit, I’ll provoke her, and then you can… Huh? Did you say ‘no’?”
He circled halfway around Salaar in disbelief, then thought hard for a while. He truly couldn’t come up with any reason Salaar would refuse.
Salaar opened his mouth again, seemingly trying to regain control of it. A few seconds later, he drew in a breath and spoke once more. “I don’t want you to go.”
His back was to the burning fireplace, his features submerged in shadow, as though even his face were covered in fog.
Myss felt a twinge of annoyance. “I’m not going to screw up something this minor. If the priest weren’t such an idiot—unable to even spell the word ‘provoke’—I wouldn’t bother testing the waters myself.”
“If our great Hero cares that much, then why not let Kai…”
“What if neither of us can see through what’s happening here, and that woman is connected to V.O.R?” Salaar said stiffly. “I’m worried about you.”
Myss: “?”
He couldn’t help reaching out again and pressing a hand to Salaar’s forehead.
There were only two possible explanations for this kind of absurd statement. Either he had gone insane, or Salaar had.
Perhaps because he had touched the fog, Salaar’s forehead was also somewhat damp. It was hard to tell whether it was mist or a thin layer of sweat.
Myss’s movement pushed Salaar’s bangs aside, revealing his brows and eyes beneath the ends of his hair.
Myss’s hand paused.
He turned uncertainly toward Kai. “Do you have anything else that can provide light? That lousy fireplace is too dim.”
Kai didn’t make a fuss. He immediately opened the suitcase containing his merchandise and took out several candle-like objects.
They were about as thick as a wrist and looked like white candles, but their wicks were made of copper wire. Wrapped around the exposed part of the wick was an orange-red crystal. At first glance, it looked somewhat like sunstone, though more transparent.
“Magical candles, made with high-quality artificial sunstone. They’re not especially bright, but one lasts for a week. I call them ‘Finite Light.’ Two silver shields each… Sorry.”
Kai had been speaking enthusiastically before abruptly realizing the situation wasn’t quite appropriate. “I mean, I happen to have three. One for every two people.”
“I’ll buy one at market price!” Earl finally stopped pretending to be dead and sprang upright.
Compared with the Earl that Hermit had impersonated, the real Earl was the same age as “Kendrick,” ultimately just an inexperienced young man in his early twenties.
Previously, he had firmly believed that once they contacted Archmage Marcela, every problem would be solved and had confidently brought the patient over.
Now Marcela was acting strangely, and everyone was trapped in this inexplicable place. Earl practically had guilt written across his face. But because of his pride as a great noble, he found it difficult to lower his head, so he could only pretend nothing was wrong on the surface while secretly trying to make amends.
Kai understood this perfectly and accepted the money without hesitation.
Myss couldn’t be bothered with the intricacies of human social dynamics. He grabbed one of the magical candles and held it directly in front of Salaar’s nose.
Sure enough, it had not been an illusion.
The white of Salaar’s left eye had turned somewhat gray, visibly different from his right eye. Earlier, Myss had thought it was merely a trick of the shadows. Under the light, however, the white of Salaar’s left eye appeared even darker.
…Salaar and the Dragon Fae turning black together had only been a random thought. How had Salaar actually started turning black too?!
At that moment, Salaar happened to have his back to everyone else. Myss instinctively covered Salaar’s left eye with one hand, then looked over Salaar’s shoulder and swept his gaze across the other humans.
Myss didn’t care about human attitudes, but he wasn’t completely ignorant of humans either. If they discovered Salaar was mutating, who knew what kind of chaos would break out.
With Myss and Salaar’s strength, no one could force them out of the house. But if six people started distrusting one another, Lady “Interesting” would only find everything even more interesting.
“Something’s wrong with your left eye.”
Myss expertly hooked an arm around Salaar’s neck and leaned close to his ear.
“It looks a little like what’s happening to the Dragon Fae. Try healing it first.”
The instant he finished speaking, a faint golden light appeared in Salaar’s left eye. Forget questioning him, Salaar didn’t even hesitate for a single second.
“How is it now?” Salaar lowered his head, bringing his face even closer. His breath brushed softly against the tip of Myss’s nose.
“Still pitch black.” Myss scratched his nose and gave an honest assessment.
The room was growing darker, and Kai’s magical candles weren’t especially bright. At a glance, the white of Salaar’s left eye had almost turned completely black.
Honestly, it suited the gloomy aura of this face rather well.
Salaar was silent for a moment before extending a hand. “Give me Tass and Knife. I’ll carry them.”
“What does that have to do with your eye?” Myss frowned. “If it really is contagious, Tass should’ve infected me first. I’ve been carrying him in my pocket the whole time.”
“I can’t take the risk. What if you get infected too?” Salaar said. “I’m worried about you.”
There it was again—that horribly unnatural feeling that made Myss’s whole body tingle. He rubbed the goosebumps on his arms.
During three hundred years of confinement, putting aside all those irritating pieces of performance art, Salaar had never acted impulsively.
He had efficiently executed companions who violated the rules and erased the hearts of teammates on the verge of collapse, never hesitating in his movements.
Some had even gone mad and brought about their own deaths in the most gruesome ways, yet when handling those almost creatively bloody scenes, Salaar’s hands had never even trembled.
Perhaps Salaar’s human heart hadn’t yet fully formed at the time. Or perhaps his memories were simply too vast that he possessed a terrifying, cold clarity.
Later, they came into the human world.
Salaar had bitten his throat before, mumbling incoherently his obsession and infatuation against him. But the killing intent between them had remained as clear as a full moon in the dead of night.
Salaar understood their ending perfectly. He hadn’t even been willing to stay one extra night in the “home” fabricated by the Blind God.
…So what kind of nonsense was this bastard spouting now?
“I’m worried about you.”—he even said it twice. Myss stared at Salaar in disbelief.
Never mind the fact that Mr. Hero was actually worried about him. Worry itself was the most meaningless emotion imaginable. Myss certainly wasn’t worried about Salaar at all.
“Hell, even the Dragon Fae doesn’t have this symptom.” Myss covered Salaar’s left eye again and looked around furtively. “Watch yourself. Don’t let the others notice. Or I could just put a control spell on you so they won’t be able to see anything wrong…”
The words slip out of the Archdemon’s mouth before he could stop them, then he immediately found it amusing. From what he knew of Salaar, Salaar would absolutely refuse…
Salaar gently grasped his wrist. “All right.”
After saying that, his face twisted painfully for a moment before he barely managed to add, “Even though I know that would be wrong.”
Myss: “???”
It was over. Salaar really had lost his mind. Even when facing the purely rational Salaar inside the Red Amber, Myss had never been this bewildered.
Bewildered or not, Myss still left a trace of his power over Salaar’s left eye.
It would prevent everyone nearby from noticing anything unusual. Everyone except Myss himself, of course.
“My emotions are fluctuating more than usual, and my words and actions are becoming difficult to control.”
Salaar pressed a fingertip against the socket of his left eye. “So far, I haven’t felt any impulse to attack. You… be careful.”
Myss’s hair nearly stood on end. “Will you shut up already? I’d rather you pick a fight with me. I mean it.”
Salaar couldn’t help laughing. For some reason, Myss felt that at least in this moment, Salaar’s amusement was genuine.
Myss thought for a moment, then covered Salaar’s mouth instead. For this dim room, that smile was far too dazzling.
At the other end of the room.
After paying Kai, Earl returned to his original spot and resumed biting his nails. Earl Nebula had always been one of the outstanding members of the Nebula family’s younger generation. He knew how to deal with commoners and how to display proper etiquette toward those above him. He had never made any real mistakes in his life and only suffered a few minor failures.
But now look at him. First he had become separated from the main group during the expedition to the Old Lands. Then he had landed himself in this thoroughly awkward situation.
Earlier, Earl had possessed more than enough confidence to take control of the situation. But after actually meeting Lady Marcela, he had started shrinking back again.
No—he couldn’t retreat now.
If he, as the distant relative, did nothing, it would be even harder for everyone else to overstep him.
If the guests he had personally introduced ended up packed together sleeping on the floor all night, he alone would disgrace the entire Nebula family!
…And that Kendrick Carnes was watching!
Earl took several deep breaths, swallowed hard, and turned toward the tightly closed door leading into the inner rooms.
“…I’ll go with you.”
Lawler suddenly spoke. “You don’t look very well, and I have met Lady Marcela before too. Uh, once.”
Under normal circumstances, Earl certainly wouldn’t have wanted that. Right now, he could not afford to care. “V-very well. We’ll ask her about guest rooms.”
“I’m going too!” Myss suddenly chimed in..
So what if Salaar did not approve? Opportunities didn’t come twice. Before Salaar could even speak, Myss ducked low and darted over.
As he passed Kalen, Myss paused slightly and muttered, “Keep an eye on Salaar. He’s not doing well.”
Then he ran off as if nothing had happened.
Salaar looked as though he wanted to chase after him while simultaneously wanting to nail his own feet to the floor. He nearly tripped over himself.
In the end, he successfully remained where he was and earned Kalen’s sympathetic look of he really isn’t doing well.
Fine. Salaar wanted his lover to supervise him… Earl had no objection to that. Besides, this Mr. Myss was extremely pleasant to look at and didn’t have an intimidating build, making it difficult to feel any hostility toward him.
“I’ll handle the conversation once we get there.”
That was the only request Earl made of Myss.
Myss gave a short grunt as his answer.
The door leading deeper into the house was shut extremely tightly, so tightly that it was difficult to tell whether it had been locked from the other side.
Earl struggled with it for quite some time before finally managing to open it. Behind the door was a staircase leading upward. It stood beside the kitchen, with another door on the opposite side.
There were no windows in this space. It was as dark as a cellar. The strange smell in the air was even stronger here.
Myss sneezed in the dusty air and looked toward the second floor.
The smell was coming from upstairs. So was a faint scraping sound. Earl pinched the flesh of his palm and walked at the front.
His steps were stiff and slow, making the old staircase creak beneath his feet. Myss wanted nothing more than to kick him all the way upstairs.
There were fewer doors on the second floor than on the first. There was also no lighting like the fireplace downstairs. Within the shadows, objects could only be seen as vague outlines.
At the top of the stairs was a short corridor, with only one open window at the far end. On either side of the corridor were two open rooms: a study on the left and a laboratory on the right.
Lady “Interesting” stood directly in front of the window at the center. Both her hands rested on the window frame as she stared out into the fog.
The Archmage’s back was rigid, like a dressmaker’s mannequin used for fitting clothes.
She had definitely heard their footsteps, yet she remained completely motionless, her hair hanging silently in the fog.
“Lady Marcela, I’m very sorry for intruding without permission. But it’s already late. Would you be willing to provide us with some bedding?”
Earl licked his dry lips and forced himself to continue.
“I know this is a very rude request. Actually, um…”
“Great… Lady Marcela.” Lawler spoke softly. “Everyone is tired and hungry. Please take care of them.”
Marcela finally moved. She stiffly tilted her head and looked at Lawler for quite a while.
Those deathly gray eyes swept over Lawler’s slightly curly ginger hair, his utterly ordinary brown eyes, and his somewhat large nose.
“It’s you.” She spoke dryly, her head twisted at an awkward angle while the rest of her body remained perfectly still. “You shouldn’t… be here.”
Lawler lowered his eyes obediently. “It was presumptuous of me, but they are my guests. I can’t simply leave them alone.”
Marcela didn’t answer, nor did she smile. After a long while, her face began twisting again, as though she was trying to form some expression and failing miserably.
“Good,” she said. No one knew what exactly she meant was good.
Myss’s eyes shifted. He turned his body, nimbly slipped past the two taller men blocking his way, and moved to the very front.
Before Earl and Lawler could react, Myss very deliberately stumbled two steps and rushed toward Marcela, who stood only a few paces away.
Pitch-black threads of magic had already gathered at his fingertips, ready to fire at any moment.
Myss’s plan was very simple. He only wanted to force Marcela to make a move. If Marcela was injured by him, he would immediately seize control of the old woman and force her to send them away.
But if Marcela’s magic clearly exceeded his understanding, he would immediately conceal his true strength and find another way to leave.
Whatever earth-shattering secret this place was hiding, he would get Salaar out first. Secrets couldn’t grow legs and run away, but there was only one Salaar.
Unfortunately, while the Chaos Archdemon’s plan was crisp and efficient, reality refused to cooperate.
Marcela didn’t dodge, nor did she use magic.
Myss instinctively withdrew his power, and his hand brushed across her arm without the slightest obstruction.
Cold. Damp. Hollow. It felt exactly like the night fog seeping through the crack in the door, only even colder.
Myss abruptly stepped back twice, pretending that he had simply rushed forward too quickly and lost his balance. His heart pounded wildly, as though someone had stuffed a shard of razor-sharp ice into his chest. That strange, damp cold still clung to his fingertips, as though he had touched the blood of a corpse.
It wasn’t an illusion. There was no mental manipulation—there was only fog… an unfathomable fog.
“Marcela” wasn’t merely impossible to examine. This thing wasn’t human at all.
Marcela slowly twisted her head toward Myss. Within the hazy night, her eyes were murkier than those of a dead fish. Her voice seemed to come from somewhere far beneath the water.
“You… touched it?”
Once Lawler left her line of sight, she once again revealed that smile that made one’s entire body uncomfortable.
The old woman raised a hand and reached toward Myss, who stood within arm’s reach.
“You touched it.”
The author has something to say:
Myss is in serious danger! [cat paw]
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