Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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

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Chapter 62: An Open Divine Realm

…However, being worthy of the description “magnificent” didn’t equate to being truly grand.

Space underground was limited, so the building had no choice but to yield to the jagged rock walls. Its shape looked like a cream confection squeezed badly out of form. At the foot of the castle clustered many little shacks typical of a slum, or more accurately, human dens. They reminded Myss of the poor district in Rosha City.

Between the dark brown walls, yellow-brown human bones showed here and there. Most were incomplete, scattered in bits and pieces in the corners, and many still bore scorch marks.

Mixed in among those bones were metal magic artifacts with a slight trace of rust. These, at least, stood neatly upright among the earth and stone, and Myss could smell the old blood caked onto them.

At the top of each device was a giant crystal, emitting a hazy pale green glow. Only because of that could they make out the rough outline of the castle. Even so, most of this twisted structure still lay steeped in shadows thick as blood.

“What’s that? The flow of magic around it is really strange.” Tass sucked in a breath through his teeth.

“That’s a Bone-Burning Lamp, one kind of ancient alchemical artifact.” Salaar explained without emotion. “Throw animal bones into it, and it can keep glowing for a very long time. With enough bone fuel, they can shine for over a hundred years.”

Myss: “Sounds pretty convenient.”

Three hundred years later and this thing could still give light. That was already impressive.

Salaar shook his head. “Its main structure is buried underground. What you can see is only the tip of the iceberg.”

“Bone-Burning Lamps are extremely troublesome to build. They can’t be moved, and their light weakens year by year, so they’re hard to use for anything else.”

Myss withdrew his curious gaze.

No wonder Salaar had never bothered with these in the seal and had just used his own magic for light instead.

“Don’t get too close to the Bone-Burning Lamps. There are usually lethal traps set around them. A normal underground city wouldn’t use this kind of thing, so not many people know about them. Outsiders are easily lured in by the ‘glowing crystals.’”

Salaar lifted a hand and pointed into a nearby patch of shadow.

Myss followed that finger with his eyes.

Inside a little hut near one of the Bone-Burning Lamps lay several relatively fresh mummies, huddled together. Their clothing style was similar to that of Professor Gentry’s group, only they had been dead for over a hundred years.

Their limbs were all broken in different ways; not a single corpse remained intact. These humans had followed the light, hoping to find a place to rest and recover, only to step into the cruelest center of all.

There was no wind underground. The old scent of earth mixed with the reek of corpses. The faint green light illuminated the abandoned castle, and everything smelled of death.

“Hmph. Just a bunch of self-important fools.” The rabbit judge sounded disdainful. “We only need one look to tell where the traps are.”

With that, it bumped its head against Salaar’s calf. “Enough nonsense. Just follow us!”

The rabbit swarm surged toward a half-collapsed arched gate.

The arch stood alone, isolated among the castle ruins. It wasn’t large, and over half its bricks had already fallen away. It was undoubtedly some poorly made imitation of a little monument. There was plenty of open ground around it, yet the white rabbits obediently lined up and entered that narrow arch one by one.

The strange thing was that Myss could see the rabbits jump into the arch, but he couldn’t see them come out the other side. The Bone-Burning Lamps flickered with lonely light, and everything remained quiet.

“An entrance to a Divine Realm,” Myss muttered.

Once was a novelty, twice was familiarity. This was the third time. He instantly recognized the subtle aura of a Divine Realm.

“We’re going in. If you’re not comfortable with it, you can stay outside and cover us.”

Salaar immediately turned to Tass. The Dragon Fae had already suffered once in the Red Amber. Maybe he still had some lingering trauma from it. As for Father Kalen, the priest was staring sadly at those rabbits, apparently still wondering why they disliked him.

Tass huffed. “Last time I got affected because Anti’s magic had too much assimilating force. We’re not going to run into the same type of Divine Realm again, are we?”

“Hard to say.” Salaar was brutally honest.

“If I cared that much about staying alive, I wouldn’t be an assassin.” Tass waved a hand. “Don’t be fooled by the way I look. I’m almost forty. I’m older than all of you.”

“Hard to say.” Salaar’s gaze slowly slid away.

Tass was shocked. “Don’t tell me Kalen is over forty too? …No way, right?”

Myss snickered under his breath, while Salaar clapped a hand over his own mouth to stop him from blurting out something else. They followed the rabbit stream and entered the arch one after another.

Before going through, Tass flew away from Myss and waved a hand toward the arch.

The arch rumbled with vibration. Where the stone had crumbled away, large amounts of emerald-like crystal grew out. Under the faint light, the formerly unremarkable arch became striking and impossible to ignore.

Across the lintel, flashing letters inlaid with gemstone appeared—

[Warning: Special Magical Space Ahead]

Salaar smiled and flipped a hand, covering those words with a golden defensive shield.

“Always doing such troublesome things,” Myss said.

“We have to leave Professor Gentry at least a few clues.” Salaar shrugged.

His right hand pressed down on his snake-staff, while his left caught Myss’s hand. The two of them stepped through the arch together.

…Then both of them slammed to a halt.

The scene inside the arch… well, how to put it? It was even more surreal than the rabbit judge.

The castle ruins were still there, exactly the same as they had looked from outside.

Only now, in those gray, dim corners and among the tangled bones, mushrooms had sprung up in every color and absurd shape. Their colors were bright and cheerful, and their caps gave off dreamy, glowing light.

Near the mushrooms grew tender little ferns. Their leaves were shaped like miniature cups, each holding a shimmering liquid that smelled faintly of fresh grass.

At the base of the mushrooms spread soft purple moss, covered in crystal-clear five-petaled flowers whose petals were bright yellow like sunlight.

Between this mushroom forest, plump white rabbits hopped here and there.

Some wore little woven hats made of ferns and carried tiny vine baskets on their backs. Just one or two mushrooms was enough to fill a basket. Others drank leisurely from the liquid in the cup-shaped ferns. Still others simply lay sprawled across the soft mushroom caps, sleeping peacefully.

“Oops!” One rabbit mid-hop got its paw stuck in a skull’s eye socket and nearly tripped on the spot.

“Bad humans! Bad humans!”

It angrily shook off the half-skull, adjusted its little basket, and hopped off toward the castle with its mushrooms.

“This place…” Tass flew up into the air and hesitated. “…is really rich in, uh, childlike whimsy?”

Whether it was the extra plant growth or the rabbits, none of it fit the despairing ruins. It felt more like a fairy tale made for children.

Set against the decay and bones, it was like covering a rotting corpse in bright candy.

Salaar: “Your body?”

“No problem. The magic here is very gentle.” Tass shrugged. “But it still makes me uncomfortable. Let me think… It’s like having a giant magic-devouring tiger sleeping beside my bed.”

“Warm and soft and seemingly harmless, but fully capable of killing me at any time. You get that kind of weird feeling?”

Myss did.

The instant he stepped into the Divine Realm, every hair on his body stood straight up. His instincts were screaming warnings. The world inside the arch was full of childish charm, yet for the first time he felt genuinely threatened.

Myss tightened his grip on the rabbit in his arms until the rabbit, whom he named “Jinx”, squirmed in protest.

Salaar’s hand was being gripped tightly by Myss too, and oddly enough, he relaxed a little. “I see.”

He had initially thought the “god” here might manipulate emotions. But from the look of things, his previous unease had been more like instinct.

Still, that was hardly good news. If even Myss felt that tension, then the master of this place was stronger than both the Sunken Child and the Perfected Creation.

“Wait, don’t tell me all of you feel nervous too?”

Father Kalen tore his gaze away from the rabbits, his voice unusually tense.

“Like instinctive disgust and anxiety? Like constantly imagining the worst possible outcome, wanting to get away from here?”

Myss: “…Yeah.”

Damn that moss-flower potion. He slipped and gave an answer before he could stop himself.

Myss shot Salaar a quick glance and only relaxed when he saw Salaar nod too.

“Do you know what that means?” Salaar asked seriously.

“I’m not sure if it counts.”

Father Kalen fell into thought. “My brother once said that if you suddenly feel baseless anxiety and disgust toward a place, or toward a person, you should get away as fast as possible.”

“Mature divine power makes intelligent life reject it instinctively. There may be a true god here, in the strictest sense.”

Myss said, “Didn’t the Sunken Child and the Perfected Creation count?”

“Does a chrysalis count as a butterfly?” the priest asked in return. “I think most people would answer no.”

Tass squeezed his face and clapped his hands a few times. “Wow. Great. This is the fastest I’ve ever regretted taking a job!”

Giving in to total despair, he flew over to the archway, intending to strike a dramatic, melancholic pose. Instead, his hand grasped empty air, and he fell right out of the Divine Realm, nearly plunging headfirst into the rabbit crowd.

Tass: “?”

The other three: “???”

The three of them immediately went against the rabbit flow and started jumping in and out at the entrance.

To their astonishment, this Divine Realm was absurdly open. As long as they truly wanted to leave, they could simply turn around and walk right out. It made no effort to keep them.

“I don’t regret it anymore.” Tass raised a tiny fist. “Dragon Faes never admit defeat!”

Catching the complicated looks from the rest of the group, Tass added, “…I didn’t mean to say that out loud. It’s the moss-flower potion’s fault!”

“What are you doing? Are you trying to run away?”

The rabbit judge began stomping the ground again with its hind legs. “Get moving, damn it! I hereby sentence you to ‘no breakfast’!”

The rabbits swarmed up furiously and started ramming their little heads against their calves. Myss let go of Salaar’s hand in annoyance and stepped out of the rabbit crowd.

The instant he took that first step out of the swarm, something went snap underfoot.

The next moment, a grating metallic screech came from overhead. A giant metal axe-blade came crashing down. It was as tall as a man. The edge was sharp enough to carry no magical fluctuation whatsoever, only a gust of bloody wind.

Myss launched himself away at nearly inhuman speed, and the giant axe buried itself into the ground right by his toes.

At the same moment, the nearby rabbits split apart instantly, as if they had rehearsed it countless times. Only one rabbit had its forepaw stepped on by Myss during his evasive leap, and it burst into furious insults on the spot.

Another rough scrape of chain on metal sounded as the giant axe slowly retracted back into the darkness. The gouge in the ground blended perfectly into the ruined landscape, as if nothing had happened.

Everyone fell silent.

Myss slowly stepped back into the rabbit tide. Compared to being split open by that thing, he would rather let the rabbits ram him a few times.

“You, short one! You stepped on a rabbit paw!”

The rabbit judge stood upright, relentless as ever. “I sentence you to ‘no breakfast!’”

“Stepped on a rabbit, no breakfast! Stepped on a rabbit, no breakfast!” the rabbits chanted with righteous fury, stomping their hind feet in perfect rhythm.

“The mushroom bread for breakfast is delicious,” Jinx commented from Myss’s arms, sounding delighted by his misfortune.

Myss gave a dismissive huff. “Then I’ll eat Salaar’s.”

Salaar let out a sigh and tacitly accepted it.

Jinx was dumbfounded. “…Heavens, how can you be so evil!”

“Thanks for the compliment,” Myss replied absentmindedly.

Then Salaar’s hand came for his again. This time, Salaar patiently separated Myss’s fingers and laced them together of his own accord. The Great Hero’s grip was strong, and his palm was slightly damp.

Myss didn’t pull away.

They had only triggered one trap in all this time. His gaze swept once more over the vast rabbit swarm and the ruins steeped in shadow.

Earlier, the rabbits had left them “just enough room to step.” That clearly hadn’t been only to make things difficult for them.

This Divine Realm was getting more and more interesting.

…Not!

The road to the castle was practically a Night Scourge trap exhibition measured out one footstep at a time.

It was hard to tell whether the hope family simply possessed a twisted sense of human or were just excessively frugal. The vast majority of the traps utilized no magic whatsoever. Myss broke out in a cold sweat, every muscle in his body tensing. Those traps could trigger in an instant. Who knew if Salaar would have enough time to erect a protective barrier.

As it turned out, he would.

Not only would he, he was practically at ease.

“Purely mechanical ‘lethal trap’ types,” Salaar commented. “Once you know the city lord’s preferences, the attack patterns here aren’t hard to predict.”

He let go of Myss’s hand, fished up a rock from the rabbit crowd, and hurled it at an entirely unremarkable wall brick. “If I’m guessing right, there should be a poison-arrow mechanism here.”

Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!

Three metal arrows shot out, passing right by Myss’s scalp.

Myss: “…”

“Next should be here—”

Apparently satisfied by the three arrow-holes in the rock wall, Salaar then poked a nearby flagstone with his snake-staff.

The rabbits immediately scattered like flowing water, while Myss felt his collar tighten and his footing vanish.

The slab under his feet slid away instantly, revealing rusted spikes below, already skewering two or three old corpses.

Salaar held Myss up steadily by the back of his shirt. “Of course, of course. A drop trap used in combination with the arrows. Classic design.”

Myss: “…………….”

The instant his feet touched solid ground again, he seized Salaar’s meddlesome hand and held on tight, clearly determined that if they were sharing glory, they would also share disaster.

Salaar smiled faintly and obediently followed the rabbits around the next corner, and then—

“Ah!” he shouted.

The second he did, a burst of flame roared out from around the corner. Salaar yanked Myss along with him, and a few strands of Myss’s hair were singed and curled.

Myss: “…………….”

“These three are a classic trap set, usually used for treasury defense.” Salaar concluded with satisfaction. “As expected, all of them are here. Looks like the traps haven’t gone beyond standard patterns.”

“I’m learning so much.”

As an assassin, Tass was enthusiastically studying on the spot.

Father Kalen’s gaze moved back and forth between Salaar and Myss. He looked as if he wanted to say something, but in the end remained silent.

“Do you have another name, maybe Salaar Hope?” Myss asked with a stiff expression.

“How could that be? I’m just familiar with this type of thing.” Salaar feigned innocence. “The Hope family may have had rotten hearts, but they weren’t master craftsmen. Even murder traps had to be bought ready-made.”

All at once, Myss felt that compared with Salaar, perhaps he himself wasn’t all that evil after all.

At last, the iron gate of the dungeon slammed shut behind them. Myss even felt a sense of relief, like finally I can rest. At least the ground here wouldn’t cave in anymore; that alone was a blessing.

As for the odd-shaped magical torture devices inside the prison, Myss could no longer be bothered to care.

To be fair, the rabbits’ “rabbit tunnel prison” was surprisingly decent. They had piled all the torture devices and human skeletons into a corner. In the empty center of the cell, they had built four beds for them out of ferns.

Myss sat down heavily on one of them. It was actually quite soft.

“This one is called the ‘wall noose.’ Don’t touch it carelessly.”

Salaar pointed at the restraint chains on the wall. “Once it wraps around you, the more you struggle, the tighter it gets. People who can’t use magic have a very hard time escaping.”

Myss: “Really? Then I’m locking you up with it right now.”

He stood and made a show of pouncing at Salaar. Salaar immediately raised both hands. “All right, enough joking.”

“I’m only trying to say that even without the rabbits guiding us, we still have the ability to explore.”

“…Still, to be safe, Myss and I will go out and scout tonight. You two stay here and keep watch,” he added.

“Why aren’t you taking me?” Tass asked in displeasure.

He floated in midair and didn’t have to step on anything. If necessary, he could even slip back into the pocket watch.

“Father Kalen lacks magical offensive power. I can’t leave him here alone. And if too many people go out, I’m afraid I won’t be able to look after everyone.”

Salaar answered smoothly. “Of course, I also have a bit of selfishness.”

He couldn’t lie, so he deliberately made that last line sound as suggestive as possible. The implication was sweet enough to spin sugar from.

Father Kalen tactfully looked away. Tass’s face flashed with disgust. “Fine. I won’t interrupt the two of you.”

“Did you ask me?”

Myss crossed his arms unhappily. He had absolutely no desire to go exploring this godforsaken place. Obviously, Salaar knew all the traps here, and he had healing magic too. In these ruins, he held absolute control. Besides, Myss was exhausted and just wanted to sleep.

Salaar was in a hurry to avoid those two, probably because he was worried the moss-flower potion would reveal their identities… hm? The moss-flower potion?

…According to that rabbit judge, for the next three days, Salaar could only tell the truth.

“Did you ask me?”

Myss strode right up to Salaar, grabbed his collar hard, and his eyes lit up.

“Ask me now. I want to say it myself. I really want to go exploring, just you and me, together.”

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<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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

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Chapter 61: A Different Kind of Darkness

“These rabbits aren’t particularly powerful. I can carve a path out for us.”

Tass poked his head out of the emerald. Whenever battle came up, his tone became much steadier.

Myss agreed. These fluffy little things looked impressive in numbers, but aside from speaking human language, they weren’t much different from ordinary house rabbits.

Even if Tass did nothing, all Myss had to do was cast a black magic net and he could sweep the rabbits away in one go. But…

Myss glanced at Salaar.

“Go with them.” As expected, Salaar, true to Salaar fashion, gave an answer that was eminently practical.

Myss: “Because they know where the exit is?”

Honestly, grabbing one and interrogating it under torture would work too.

“No. Because we fell too deep. At least right now, I can’t judge what kinds of traps exist in this ruin. If we follow these rabbits, we can avoid danger much more easily.”

Salaar explained calmly.

Father Kalen nodded in deep agreement and reached out to pet the nearest rabbit.

Usually, whether it was an eagle soaring in the clouds or a mole living underground, no small animal could refuse the priest’s touch.

Yet the white rabbits reacted with loud disgust, hopping away at once without even letting Kalen touch the tips of their ears.

“How brazen!” “What a casual human!” “There’s still mud on his hands!”

The rabbits panted rapidly, as they clearly and audibly hurtled insults.

The priest froze on the spot, as if he had suffered an unprecedented blow.

“Out of the way, ahem, all of you, out of the way!”

A slightly larger long-haired rabbit shoved through the crowd. It had rare drooping ears, with the fur on them curling slightly. Around its neck was a ring of cloth lace, as if imitating a judge’s ruff collar.

Even Myss, unfamiliar with human society, felt that this scene was a little too surreal.

He could understand someone with too much time on their hands turning speaking rabbits into pets. But a whole group of talking rabbits, even copying human professions, was really absurd.

“…No resisting arrest? Good, very good. Looks like there’s no need to send in the guards.”

The strange rabbit judge stood upright, its red eyes inspecting the four of them with satisfaction. “Next, I am going to put you on trial!”

“The verdict will decide how you’re treated. Pray, and hope the malice in your hearts isn’t too great.”

As soon as it finished speaking, a small wooden cart pulled by rabbits appeared behind it. On the cart sat a dented silver wine jug. It was half full, the liquid inside sloshing audibly.

Two rabbits clamped the jug between their bodies and solemnly carried it to the judge’s side. Myss stared fixedly at the narrow-necked jug, his fingers itching. He wondered what would happen if he knocked it over in front of this crowd of rabbits.

The next second, a distinct human hand reached over and pressed down on Myss’s twitching paw.

“Don’t do anything,” Salaar whispered.

Myss narrowed his eyes. “…You really plan to drink that?”

Salaar gave no direct answer. “Let’s see what happens first.”

The rabbit judge had no idea about Lord Archdemon’s bad intentions.

It patted the jug with its paw and sounded a little smug. “This is medicine made from moss flowers. One sip each, and you won’t be able to lie!”

Priest: “But moss doesn’t bloom…”

“Silence, the trial has begun! Watch it or I’ll convict you with contempt of court!” The rabbit judge thumped the ground hard with its hind legs.

The priest obediently raised his hand.

The rabbit judge lifted its head with dignity and puffed out its fluffy chest. “I permit you to speak.”

“If we refuse to drink this, what happens?” the priest asked directly.

“The trial cannot proceed, and I will become extremely angry!” The rabbit shouted. “On behalf of all rabbits, I’ll never bother with you again! And then you’ll die trapped in this dreadful place, despite our rare willingness to provide prison accommodations through the rabbit tunnels…”

“I understand. I’d like to drink first.”

After thinking it over, Father Kalen said, “Your Honor, we also have our concerns. If no one proves it’s safe, my companions won’t drink it.”

Indeed, Myss thought. These rabbits didn’t seem particularly bright, and who knew what they’d brought. The liquid in the jug smelled sour and not at all meant for human consumption.

The priest was skilled with herbs and had strong recovery abilities. He really was the best one to test it first.

After receiving the rabbit judge’s permission, Father Kalen carefully picked up the jug and poured a little into his mouth from a distance.

This time Myss saw the liquid clearly. It looked like pomegranate juice, red and transparent, with no impurities. The priest poured a small sip into his mouth, smacked his lips, and frowned. “…Fruit juice?”

—Thump!

The rabbit judge stomped the ground hard again, making an unusually muffled sound. “Court is in session!”

“First question. Tallest human, why did you come to our city?”

“Purely for work-related purposes.” Father Kalen answered honestly, “A certain exploration team disappeared here. The captain’s teacher and friends came to search for them. The four of us are the assistants they hired to help find those people.”

The rabbit judge stood up, its nose twitching. “Fine, fine. Second question. Do you want to harm those humans?”

Kalen: “Of course not. I’ll do my best to assist and protect them, unless they turn to evil themselves.”

“Third question. Do you like rabbits?”

“Yes,” the priest answered without hesitation. “All living beings have their own beauty.”

The rabbit judge looked delighted. “Not bad. You’re not such a terrible human. Next—”

Salaar watched the priest for a while, then let his lips brush Myss’s ear. “That medicine isn’t affecting the flesh, and there’s no trace of mental magic. It shouldn’t be a problem. I’ll try next.”

He took the silver jug second and tipped a mouthful into his mouth from a distance.

Myss watched carefully. Salaar’s expression didn’t change in the slightest. Maybe this so-called moss flower medicine didn’t taste that bad.

“Very tall human, do you like rabbits?” the rabbit judge asked immediately, cutting straight to the point.

Salaar opened his mouth, but no sound came out. A shocked look crossed his face, and he touched his lips.

“Heh heh, you can’t lie. Delaying won’t help.”

The rabbit judge announced proudly, “The moss flower medicine is extremely potent. Its effects last a full three days.”

“…” Salaar sighed soundlessly. “I don’t have any particular like or dislike for rabbits.”

“How cold-blooded! How cruel!” The rabbit judge cried. “We’re obviously this cute, you, hairless freaking ape!”

“Quick, tell me, would you hurt rabbits?”

“Depending on the circumstances.”

Salaar recovered his composure quickly, answering with neither servility nor arrogance. “I won’t harm you proactively, unless you obstruct us, or unless my people are in urgent need of food.”

“Obstruct you? What counts as obstructing you?”

The rabbit judge spoke in a sharp, tearing-cloth voice, sounding as though it were suppressing its anger.

“Disrupting our movements, endangering our safety, interfering with my…” At that point, Salaar abruptly braked mid-sentence. He glanced at Myss and swallowed hard. “…interfering with my paying attention to Myss.”

He said that line haltingly, as if a fish bone had suddenly lodged in his throat.

“You are a very unfriendly human.” The rabbit judge declared solemnly. “Next!”

“I drank it. It’s fine,” Salaar said softly.

Only then did Myss take the moss flower medicine from Salaar and suck a mouthful straight from the spout.

Hm. It tasted a bit better than it smelled. It really did taste like pomegranate juice, just extremely sour.

Myss ran his tongue over his teeth and swallowed the sourness. The liquid slid down his throat, spreading warmth in waves, as if there were alcohol mixed into it. A faint pulse rippled through his body, leaving his brain slightly floaty…

…No, wait. This wasn’t alcohol. It was an Abnormal Fruit.

Myss opened the jug in disbelief and sniffed it hard. Sure enough, there was a very faint Abnormal Fruit scent hidden in the medicine.

Again.

First the rabbit’s foot, then the pocket watch, and now the rabbit-brought moss flower medicine. Myss couldn’t find any pattern at all.

“You, short one.”

The rabbit judge’s red eyes turned toward him, and its tiny forepaws pointed straight at him.

“You’re Myss, right? …What is your relationship with that very tall human?”

His relationship with Salaar? Of course they were sworn enemies who could not coexist and despised each other on sight.

Myss imagined salted roast rabbit legs for a while before finally suppressing the urge to kill at being called “short one.” These rabbits were still useful; he had to keep them alive for now.

He glanced at Salaar, cleared his throat, and opened his mouth confidently.

Then Myss discovered in astonishment that he couldn’t make a sound.

Myss stared, shocked, and squeezed his own throat. Could it be that human language was too impoverished to express how deeply he loathed Salaar?

Or perhaps his hatred for Salaar wasn’t pure enough?

The Salaar who spent three hundred years in the seal tormenting him with salted roast mushrooms, the warm and springy hero body pillow at night, the Salaar-snake who sang off-key with him in the hallways… when faced with that version of Salaar, Myss’s killing intent wasn’t as intense.

Myss thought and thought, only to find more and more similar memories winding themselves into a tangled ball. To explain their complicated relationship clearly would take no small number of adjectives. And his vocabulary had never been that great.

So the Archdemon decided to use a simpler, more objective description.

“He’s mine.” Myss said, “He can only belong to me.”

His tone was so self-righteous it sounded like he was simply stating a law of nature, like “the sun rises in the east.”

Salaar’s body trembled slightly, and the fingers clasped together tightened.

That had to be a shiver of fear, Myss thought proudly, and he deliberately pressed closer.

Father Kalen smiled gently, his face practically saying, I knew it.

“And you? Would you hurt rabbits for this human?” the rabbit judge raised its voice.

“Of course.” Myss answered without thinking. “If necessary, I’d kill every last one of you.”

The rabbit judge gasped, and the rabbits around it broke into a buzzing uproar. Countless red eyes bobbed anxiously.

The rabbit in Myss’s arms trembled violently, forgetting all about the two snakes wrapped around it.

“Silence, silence!”

The rabbit judge stomped hard on the ground several times. Its fur puffed up, making it look even bigger than before.

“Y-you vicious, evil thing! Don’t you care about your other companions? If it weren’t for us—”

“I don’t.”

Under the medicine’s effect, Myss still answered without thinking.

“If necessary, I’d kill them too.”

Father Kalen’s smile faded a little. He muttered something that, from the shape of his mouth, looked very much like “Ah, love.”

Half-stuck in the gem, Tass sighed as well. “Why is it always another obsessive nutcase…”

Myss, however, didn’t care what those two thought. He turned his head to look at Salaar, ready to appreciate the results of his little declaration of intimidation.

Unusually, Salaar didn’t return Myss’s gaze.

He simply stared at the rabbit judge with a completely expressionless face. Whether it was the light or extreme tension, the Great Hero’s ears were glowing a rather conspicuous shade of red.

…Well, of course. He had known Salaar wouldn’t be scared by a few blunt truths from him.

Myss handed the jug toward Tass, but before the Dragon Fae could take it, the rabbit judge cut in, “The Dragon Fae doesn’t have to drink. We only evaluate the bad humans.”

“The verdicts for you three are set!”

“The tallest human may eat five kinds of mushrooms. The very tall human may eat three kinds of mushrooms. As for the murderous short one—before the banquet starts, you are only allowed one kind of mushroom!”

The rabbit judge declared viciously. “All right, take them away!”

The four of them: “…”

What a terrifying sentence. These rabbits really weren’t very bright.

Still, eating mushrooms in the dark really did count as a revival of hell for Salaar. Myss happily hugged the rabbit wrapped in snakes, all set to watch Salaar make a fool of himself.

Unexpectedly, what he saw on Salaar’s face was an unusual gravity.

“Did any of you notice?” Salaar asked quietly, not caring about the mushrooms at all.

Myss, Father Kalen: “?”

“I noticed.”

Tass flew out of the gem and hid in Myss’s long hair. “…Why would alchemical creatures from the Night Scourge era recognize ‘Dragon Fae’? Our species only appeared after the Night Scourge. There is something very wrong with these rabbits.”

“True.” The priest suddenly grasped the situation and leaned in closer. “Still, they don’t seem to be transformed from humans. Rabbit Hole never had that many people go missing.”

“The magical signatures don’t match either,” Myss added.

These rabbits had no Magibase. That much was obvious.

“No mental magic, not transformed humans, but also not normal alchemical life.” Salaar looked down at the bustling rabbit army at his feet. “All right, it seems we can only take this one step at a time.”

……

Who would have thought that they would end up taking it literally one step at a time.

The dense mass of rabbits occupied nearly the entire ground, leaving them only fixed spaces to step on. The three had no choice but to move slowly, as if trudging through knee-high snow.

A tide of flesh and fur crowded around them as they advanced. Countless claws scraped across the gravel, the constant patter grating on their nerves.

Worse, the route the rabbits chose was exceptionally narrow, with slopes rising and dipping. Some sections were so cramped they could only get through by bending over.

“What a hassle,” Myss muttered. “Maybe I should just lie down and let them carry me.”

That damned moss flower medicine was still in effect. His complaint came straight from the heart.

“If we let you walk on your own, you’d probably get into trouble again.”

The rabbit in his arms murmured, “Did you forget how you fell in the first place? You jinx… ahem, Mr. Myss.”

“What a coincidence. I was just thinking about what to call you.”

Myss smiled. “That name suits you even better. From now on, you’re ‘Jinx.’”

“Jinx?” Knife asked.

“Jinx!” Fork cheered.

Jinx, the rabbit, gave a weak couple of kicks with its hind legs and swallowed the insult.

What surprised Myss was that it didn’t ask the rabbit judge for help.

Maybe getting captured by a human was too embarrassing, Myss thought.

…And so, they kept walking through the dazzling black and white.

In truth, Myss knew that this kind of darkness could break many people.

In the long dark seal, he had seen humans go mad. Even those who were among the greatest elites of humanity, after enough time, would cry in the dark like children, calling for a sun that no longer existed.

Once they broke badly enough, those people would go to the place where corpses were buried and dig their own graves with their own hands.

Then they would seek out Salaar, living alone, and beg him to erase their emotions completely, or simply execute them. At the very end, they would lift their heads and look toward Myss’s eyes hidden in the darkness.

What came from their mouths weren’t curses, but disordered longing.

Family and friends. Fellow villagers. Children they had once played with. Even the sound of crowds.

Sunlight, green grass, bird calls, even air still damp with the moisture of recent rain… They raved about those utterly ordinary things they would never see again in life, burying their hearts in despair.

Salaar would watch them in silence, just as Myss would watch everything in silence from above.

Among them, there had been one especially dramatic man. In the depths of his despair, he had even begun to worship the darkness itself, offering faith to the Chaos Archdemon right before him.

Myss remembered that this was the first time, and only time, Salaar had ever made a move on his own initiative.

“Humanity is doomed to perish. Everything is destined to sink into silence… Eternal silence…”

The man stretched both hands upward, toward the immeasurable darkness.

“We should rejoice in that tranquil ending… Liberate Him! Praise Him! Let Him grant us the merciful end…”

“Salaar, Salaar, if humanity keeps struggling on, only an even more miserable ending awaits… You know my ability. I saw the future! I—”

Salaar cut off his head with one single stroke of his sword.

The man’s head rolled several times across the gravel before finally coming to rest on its side. That severed head twisted its eyes furiously, cramming its pupils into the corners, using its last bit of reason to stare at the black “sky.”

“‘Thou shalt not worship the darkness.’ That’s the bottom line. I accept surrender. I don’t accept subservience. Think about what it is you stand here to protect.”

Salaar’s tone was ice-cold.

“…Everything for the sake of ending the Night Scourge.”

Unfortunately, Salaar hadn’t looked up when he spoke, so Myss hadn’t seen his face.

Compared to that, the darkness here could almost be called gentle.

This place also had a black firmament, bleak gravel, and dangers lurking across every inch of ground. The only difference was that the lethal traps here were cave-ins and snares rather than an Archdemon’s tentacles.

What was different was the warmth of rabbits brushing against their ankles, the low murmur of voices from one person to another. Leaving Salaar aside, both the priest and the Dragon Fae were in reasonably good spirits, nothing like the suffocating gloom of the army in the seal.

Of course, there was an even more decisive difference—

“Whoa,” the Dragon Fae whispered in awe.

Before them stood an underground castle grand enough to be called magnificent.

---

<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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

---

Chapter 60: The Rabbit Army

Asp put a collar on the rabbit. The rabbit kicked its legs in displeasure, but no matter what it did, it couldn’t get the thing off.

“How annoying. What did you people do this time?” it asked in its sharp little voice.

Asp immediately looked at Beverly.

“Just a tiny anti-escape measure.” Beverly set the rabbit down. “We’ll compensate you with fresh leafy greens—”

Before she could finish, the rabbit bolted, shouting, “Only an idiot would believe that!”

But the moment it got ten paces away from Asp, it slammed into an invisible magical barrier with a bang. Fortunately, the barrier didn’t seem too hard. The rabbit just bounced back, dizzy and disoriented, suffering no serious injury from the impact.

It managed to steady itself, then thumped the ground furiously with its hind legs.

“Once we find the survivors, we’ll remove that collar and compensate you with plenty of supplies,” Professor Gentry said apologetically. “…However, if you lead us into a death trap, you’ll be trapped beside the corpses for the rest of your life.”

The rabbit spat out several angry curses, then grudgingly shifted its body. “All of you, follow me.”

It stuck out its rear and began hopping along in front of them.

Myss followed behind the rabbit with curiosity, glancing around at the ruined surroundings.

The place lined with giant paintings just now was probably some kind of loading area. The path ahead had turned into a spiral stone staircase, far steeper than before. A carriage could no longer pass through here.

It resembled an inverted tower. In the hollow center hung rotted chains and ropes. There wasn’t a trace of wind, so they hung perfectly still like stalactites, leaving behind nothing but silent shadows.

“Those were mechanisms for transporting heavy goods,” Salaar said, following his gaze. “Back then, carriage compartments were specially made so they could be detached as whole units.”

“People would lower the compartments full of supplies down there and lead the horses along the stairs.”

Myss gave a quiet acknowledgement and leaned over to peer into the bottomless pit.

There was more moisture in the air now. He caught the faint fishy tang of water. There had to be a subterranean river flowing beneath them.

On the nearby rock walls, the paintings had returned to normal size. Their subjects were still figures from the Hope family, or suns hanging in clear skies.

For no reason at all, an image surfaced in Myss’s mind: a young Salaar being carried in the arms of a faceless woman, descending the spiral stairs step by step into the darkness underground. One sun painting after another slid past his eyes, gradually retreating from view.

No wonder this guy had managed to endure three hundred years in darkness. He had probably been used to it already.

Ordinarily, repetitive scenery would have made Myss sleepy. But now he was wide awake, studying every corner he could see with unusual vigor.

“It’s kind of cold here,” Tass muttered on his shoulder. “I don’t like it here. My stomach feels weird.”

Father Kalen soothed him gently. “Dark environments always make people nervous. Want some herbs?”

Salaar’s brow twitched. His gaze swept over Tass and Kalen, then settled on Myss, who was looking around everywhere.

“Nervous…” He traced the word with his tongue, then swallowed it back down.

It wasn’t just him. Everyone’s emotions seemed somewhat taut, yet it didn’t feel like the mental contamination from before.

The round white rabbit continued leading the way. Beverly and Asp followed right behind it, looking as though they wished they could run ahead of it instead.

Professor Gentry, meanwhile, walked at the very back. Every so often, he pressed a crystal nail into the rock wall. In the darkness, they emitted a warm orange-red glow.

The nails were almost fused with the stone itself and carried practically no magical aura.

“What are these?” Myss reached out and tried to pry one loose but failed.

“Trail markers,” Professor Gentry explained kindly. “If there’s major magical interference, they make the best beacons.”

“But you’re a Grand Archmage,” Myss muttered.

In terms of sheer magical power, Professor Gentry was roughly on par with Salaar in his current state. Trail markers were a weakling’s trick. Gentry had no need for them. As strong ones, they were supposed to simply resist magical interference head-on.

“A common misunderstanding among the young,” Professor Gentry said in his teacherly tone. “Having a lot of magic doesn’t mean you’re highly skilled at magic. If ‘pure power’ were all that mattered, then the strongest person by physical force would be the best warrior, and the smartest person the best leader. Clearly, that’s absurd.”

“The amount of power matters, certainly. But timing and technique matter just as much. Placing too much faith in your own power leads only to destruction.”

Myss gave a noncommittal grunt, appearing only half-convinced.

Having witnessed a human lecturing an Archdemon firsthand, Salaar could only rub his temples. His mouth twitched, though it was hard to tell whether he was about to smile or sigh.

……

After passing through the entrance tower, Myss caught the smell of that subterranean river, along with the faint stench of bones and corpses.

The ground under their feet became gravel again, and darkness surged in from all sides.

Myss could vaguely make out countless nested caves, riddling every direction, even the ceiling above, making it look like a gigantic anthill.

“To save labor, most underground cities were built by modifying natural cave systems. Normally, people wouldn’t choose terrain this…” Salaar considered his wording. “This complicated. I have to say, this sight makes me kind of nostalgic.”

Myss perked up. “You used to live somewhere like this too?”

“No. These holes remind me of your eyes,” Salaar replied honestly.

Myss: “…”

He felt something was wrong with that answer, but he couldn’t quite refute it. So, he could only let out a sullen huff.

“Look, there’s a trail marker!” Beverly interrupted their private exchange. “It must have been left behind by Roman’s group. They’re the only ones who’ve come here recently.”

Among the countless caves of all sizes, one entrance flickered with orange light, identical to Professor Gentry’s markers.

“I’ll measure it right away.” Asp jogged over to the cave entrance and hurriedly set up a pile of odd-looking magical devices.

The devices buzzed. Bored out of his mind, Myss squatted down and pawed at the gravel with his fingers.

He had an odd feeling that this expedition was turning out to be remarkably… lucky.

Not long after entering, he had found a rabbit that could guide them.

On the other side, Professor Gentry had brought Beverly and Asp specifically to handle all the ruin-related work for them. At this rate, it almost seemed like all they had to do was follow the rabbit, find the survivors, and unravel the mystery of the Abnormal Fruit here… right?

On the gravel, Myss drew a crude stick-figure corpse of Salaar with X-eyes and its tongue lolling out. While thinking, he viciously jabbed at the nonexistent nostrils on its face.

“I’m still cold,” Tass said softly from his shoulder. “Myss… Hey Myss, can you pull in your magical aura a bit? It’s making me uncomfortable.”

“I am holding it in.”

“You’re not!” Tass yanked his sideburn. “Your aura’s been floating all around your body like your fur’s standing on end. If you really can’t be bothered, I’m going to stay with Salaar instead.”

His magical fluctuations had been unstable this whole time? Myss frowned.

“There are no danger markers left by Roman inside the cave, and no unusual magical fluctuations either. We should continue forward…” Asp suddenly spoke, cutting through Myss’s thoughts.

“Hurry up!” Beverly almost immediately moved to stand by the cave mouth.

“Stop rushing me! It’s not like I’ve got big human legs!” the rabbit snapped, grudgingly hopping into the cave.

Professor Gentry set another trail marker and moved toward the cave as well. For the first time since entering, he was no longer bringing up the rear.

Myss’s heart sank slightly. All at once, he had a bad feeling.

He had felt that something was off all along. At that moment, he finally realized what it was.

In four directions plus the ceiling, there were caves of all sizes everywhere. So why was the ground beneath their feet unnaturally flat?

Rustle, rustle.

Myss looked down. The crude little dead-Salaar doodle he’d drawn had split into a grin, as if it were smiling at him.

The next instant, the crack widened violently, and the ground beneath him vanished.

The rustling turned into the thunderous sound of earth and stone collapsing.

Salaar came sprinting over at a ridiculous speed and grabbed Myss in one arm. Tass screamed and vanished back into the gemstone of the pocket watch.

In the split second before they fell, Myss’s peripheral vision swept upward. Besides Salaar, he saw a white blur charging after them and jumping into the pit along with them.

He heard Father Kalen shouting, heard Beverly scream, and then he heard nothing at all.

A massive boulder sealed the hole above them, trapping them completely in darkness.

Crack, crack. 

Salaar’s shields shattered and regenerated again and again as they fell.

Around Salaar’s shield, Myss wrapped a net woven of magical threads, trying to slow their descent a little.

Even so, they still ricocheted off the hard cave walls like bouncing balls. Myss felt as if his brain had been shaken into a smooth paste. A huge white furball shoved itself insistently into the middle of their embrace, replacing Salaar’s scent with a dense rabbit smell.

As the world spun around him, Myss wrapped all four limbs tightly around Salaar and badly wanted to squash that rabbit that had no sense of personal space.

—Bang!

At last, they hit the ground miserably. Fate was fair this time. They landed on their sides. The shields protected their bodies from real injury, but mentally they were thoroughly wrecked.

The moment they struggled up, both turned their heads and—threw up.

After painfully emptying their stomachs, Myss wanted to grab something to wipe his mouth with. His hand wandered with ill intent toward Salaar, only to grab a soft bundle of fur instead.

The rabbit was sprawled on the ground, looking lifeless. “Ugh…”

Salaar waved one hand, cleaning the filth from himself, then grabbed the rabbit by the scruff in one swift motion. “What did you do?”

Even Professor Gentry hadn’t managed to react in time. This was no trivial trick.

“…I didn’t do anything!” the rabbit said weakly. “I just thought, if I suddenly rushed into a dangerous place… the humans, worried about my safety, might remove the collar restrictions…”

“This wasn’t your doing?” Myss looked around. Great. It was even darker than before. Their lighting devices only illuminated the space immediately around them. The darkness beyond was as dense as the floor of the deep sea.

Given the cozy, familiar atmosphere, he’d almost thought he’d fallen all the way back into the seal.

“It’s because your luck is too terrible. This is the first time I’ve ever met anyone with luck as bad as yours,” the rabbit gloated. “Miserable, just miserab—Aaaahhh!”

Fork coiled around its neck, taking the collar’s place.

The rabbit was so frightened it froze in place, not daring to move. Knife, seeing this, tentatively coiled over it too, adding yet another layer to the rabbit’s terror.

“Let’s have roasted rabbit for dinner,” Myss said thoughtfully. “The priest got separated from us again. Just like I thought, his ominous-divination thing only works on himself.”

“Gentlemen, I’m right here,” Kalen said.

Myss, Salaar: “?”

Even Tass poked his head out of the gem and sucked in a breath. “You came down without a shield?!”

“I jumped.” Father Kalen gestured honestly. “This shaft isn’t vertical all the way down. There are lots of places you can brace yourself.”

Tass was incredulous. “But you didn’t know that before you jumped!”

“There was no ill omen in the divination. I knew I’d be fine.”

The priest sounded utterly confident. “But right after I came down, the boulder fell and the cave tunnel collapsed completely. Professor Gentry probably won’t be able to follow.”

A heavy silence fell over them.

Was the question really whether the Grand Archmage could follow? The path was blocked off. Getting back out was a problem now. And on top of that, this man trusted the Lord of Shadows far too much. He had jumped without knowing a thing.

“…Yes, all of us are down here.” No sooner had Myss turned his head, Salaar had already contacted Professor Gentry. “No one’s injured. The surrounding environment is still unclear. The rabbit’s with us. Asp removed the collar restriction in time, so it’s unharmed as well.”

Professor Gentry’s voice came through the golden badge. “You must keep hold of that rabbit, but don’t believe a word it says. A minor underground city shouldn’t contain an alchemical creature of that grade.”

“I’m very sorry. I’m the one who brought you here, and I will get you out safely.”

“What about Roman’s group?” Beverly’s voice came through the communicator, a bit muffled. She sounded as if she were urgently questioning Gentry.

“Roman’s team has been missing for more than half a year. If there really are survivors, that means they at least possess basic survival ability. Besides, now that we no longer have the rabbit, we can only conduct a standard search.”

“Salaar’s group is different. They know nothing about exploring ruins. Their rescue takes priority.”

“No,” Salaar said suddenly.

Myss raised a brow.

In this familiar darkness, Salaar wore an expression Myss knew very well. For a moment, he looked exactly like the military leader who tolerated no disobedience.

“The fact that the rabbit dared jump down here suggests it’s confident it can get back out.”

“I’ll make it keep guiding us to the survivors. You should continue your search for Roman by standard procedure. The tunnel we came down has collapsed. We happen to need a new way out.”

“If we’re lucky, we may even meet again at the same place.”

The words sounded like a mild suggestion, yet it carried an air of indisputable authority.

On the other side of the golden badge, Professor Gentry fell silent for a full half minute.

“Are you all really you’ll be alright?” he asked.

“You’ve seen it yourself on the way in. I know the underground cities of the Night Scourge fairly well,” Salaar answered crisply.

“Very well. We’ll continue forward on our side. Contact us immediately if anything happens.” Professor Gentry ended the communication.

“…Not to be difficult, but are we really sure?” Tass’s voice had gone dry.

In the darkness around the four of them, beyond what the lighting devices could illuminate, a pair of red points suddenly lit up.

Then a second pair. Then a third.

They lit up the darkness layer upon layer, like scarlet stars.

Rabbits. Countless rabbits.

An army of rabbits surrounded them on all sides, packed together into a sea of fluffy white fur. Innumerable pale-red eyes stared at them fixedly, and beneath those eyes, countless little three-part mouths moved all at once—

“Intruders! Bad people!”

“Tie them up! Take them away!”

“Catch them! Let’s throw a feast!”

---

<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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

---

Chapter 59: The Talking Rabbit

No, there was no one ahead.

Salaar feigned curiosity and quickened his pace without drawing attention, moving to the very front. But the place Myss had indicated was completely empty. There was nothing there.

In theory, there couldn’t possibly be any living people nearby. There was only one straight path leading to the exit. If a survivor had made it this far, they should have escaped long ago.

Salaar turned his head and looked at Myss.

Myss frowned toward the end of the tunnel. In that instant just now, he had clearly sensed a magical fluctuation similar to that of a living person. But as soon as Salaar walked in that direction, the aura had fled at once.

“You’re sure it wasn’t your imagination?” Salaar asked softly.

“I’m sure,” Myss said with absolute certainty.

Salaar nodded gravely and didn’t argue further.

Myss noticed that the way Salaar held his serpent staff had changed. It was now in a stance that could turn into a drawn blade at any moment.

No one else, including Professor Gentry and Father Kalen, had noticed anything unusual.

“I’ve never seen murals like these before,” Kalen remarked in a hushed tone, slowing his pace.

Myss turned his head and raised his gaze.

Huge paintings hung along the tunnel walls, packed tightly on both sides as though they might come crashing down any second.

These paintings were nothing like the fine pieces in the Red Amber. Their brushwork was rough and stiff. They all depicted similar scenes: some giant dressed in splendid robes strode at the front, his cloak sweeping dramatically sideways to block the wind and snow in the darkness. Beneath the cloak walked a group of tiny commoners.

And yet, even those “tiny” commoners were about the same size in the picture as Myss himself.

The lighting devices illuminated one distorted face after another. The people wore rigid smiles, and their oil-painted eyes held dim gazes fixed on Myss outside the frame.

So ugly. Myss averted his eyes in distaste.

“A standard late-Night Scourge work. We call them ‘Hero Portraits,’” Beverly explained automatically. “In the later period of the Night Scourge, almost every decent city had a corresponding underground city. These paintings were meant to enhance prestige. The giant in the image was usually the city lord and his family.”

As she spoke, she moved closer to one of the paintings and examined it carefully in the light.

“This one belongs to the Hope family—a minor noble house from the Night Scourge era. See, here’s their family crest. The Hope family was infamous for their tyranny and was wiped out long ago. I never imagined that of all the families, this one had actually constructed an underground city too.”

“It’s my first time seeing Hero Portraits this well preserved.”

“It seems this place is even more dangerous than we thought,” Asp said gloomily.

Beverly sucked in a sharp breath, looking even more agitated.

“Why is it more dangerous?” Myss asked, unusually taking the initiative to speak. “Tell me more about the Night Scourge.”

Father Kalen stepped a little closer, and Tass came out of the pocket watch and stood on Myss’s shoulder. They all seemed curious enough that no one minded Myss’s commanding tone.

“I’ll explain,” Salaar cut in suddenly. “No need to drain Miss Beverly’s energy. I also want to check how much I’ve learned. Professor Gentry, the historical sources I’ve read are rather inconsistent, so if I say anything wrong, please correct me.”

Professor Gentry happily agreed.

Salaar withdrew his gaze from the Hero Portraits and focused intently on Myss.

“In the earliest records, the Night Scourge appeared only once every ten years, or even once a century. Each time it lasted only a few days. Back then, people treated it like a natural disaster such as an earthquake or tsunami…”

…But as time passed, the Night Scourge came with increasing frequency.

From a once-in-a-century occurrence, it became something that happened once or twice every decade. By the very end of the Night Scourge era, it came almost every year. At the same time, its duration lengthened. It usually lasted around a month, and at its longest, more than two months.

Worst of all, its arrival was unpredictable.

If it fell in midsummer, temperatures on the surface plunged, and crops would all freeze to death, bringing famine for the entire year.

If it overlapped with winter, the world above became a frozen hell. Deep snow made it hard to move livestock into the underground cities, and many people couldn’t even save their own lives.

While everyone else listened to this grim description, Myss carefully compared it to his own sense of timing.

Salaar’s description was mostly correct. At first, He—or rather, It—had been little different from dormancy. Later, as His true body grew larger, His magic became more active, and His “breathing” grew more frequent and more prolonged.

That made sense. In Myss’s memory, when He first arrived here, not even a single blade of grass existed on the surface.

Yet after so many years, the surface had seemed to grow mold, sprouting all sorts of living things with a heavyweight Salaar mixed in.

…So when He was little, His breathing hadn’t been strong enough, which was why strange things had started growing up top. Myss clicked his tongue in amusement inwardly.

“If that’s the case, people and livestock could still run underground, but wouldn’t wild animals all freeze to death?” Tass couldn’t help asking.

Dragon Fae were a species that only appeared after the Night Scourge, so to them, the Night Scourge was no different from myth.

“Indeed, quite a few species unique to hot regions really did go extinct,” Salaar answered patiently. “When the Night Scourge fell, the entire sky turned pitch-black. The temperature aboveground became colder than deep winter in the far north. It was nearly impossible for living things to survive outside.”

“One small mercy was that it didn’t completely block out light. Some light still filtered through the dark canopy. Otherwise, there’s no telling how low the temperature would have fallen.”

“The Night Scourge truly was terrifying,” Father Kalen recalled. “The elders in my village used to talk about the famines from that era. Even now, parents still scare children with horror stories set during the Night Scourge.”

“Haha, I’ve heard similar tales myself,” Professor Gentry joined in. “Speaking of which, until ‘Saint Salaar’ appeared, the debate over the origin of the Night Scourge never stopped. Mr. Salaar, which camp do you belong to?”

“The Natural Disaster camp? The Magical Interference camp? …Or the Chaos Archdemon camp?”

Obviously the Chaos Archdemon camp, Myss thought, puffing out his chest proudly.

“The Magical Interference camp,” Salaar said.

Myss: “…”

Myss: “…?!”

The Chaos Archdemon stared at Salaar in utter disbelief, trying to slap him in the head with his gaze alone.

“To be precise, I used to belong to the Magical Interference camp,” Salaar said. “It proposes that there exists a singular magical source which, when stimulated in some way, emits magic strong enough to distort the heavens at irregular intervals.”

“Actually, the ‘Chaos Archdemon’ theory was derived from that hypothesis.”

“You said you ‘used to,’” Professor Gentry repeated.

“Now I am a firm believer in the Chaos Archdemon camp.” Salaar winked at Myss. “If there must be such a magical source, it’s much more interesting if it’s alive.”

“What’s interesting about that? It’s a catastrophe!” Beverly couldn’t help blurting out.

“Precisely because it’s a catastrophe, it being alive is better,” Salaar said softly, never taking his eyes off Myss. “To erase a gust of wind, or to stop a person’s breathing—obviously the latter is simpler. And more thorough.”

His tone was too matter-of-fact. Beverly choked on her response and couldn’t think of anything to say.

But Myss knew exactly what to say.

“You’re off topic.” Myss’s tone was equally matter-of-fact. To him, Salaar’s killing intent was as commonplace and dull as a boiled egg for breakfast. “I wasn’t asking how cold the Night Scourge was. I asked why this underground city is more dangerous.”

Salaar smoothly steered them back. “Just as Miss Beverly said, by the late Night Scourge era, nearly every city had an accompanying underground refuge.”

“In large cities, the royal family kept things under strict supervision, and the city lords were attentive. Those underground cities were mainly built for shelter, with clear rules and order.”

“Remote small cities were far more troublesome. Some city lords were… mentally unsound. To put it simply, they treated underground cities as private prisons and toyed with the people trapped inside.”

Myss gave a short laugh and leaned close to Salaar’s ear. “After all that talk, you just mean a man-made ‘Divine Realm’.”

“You can think of it that way.”

“Then what about you, Salaar?” Myss leaned even closer, his low, light words sliding into Salaar’s ear. “What sort of ‘Divine Realm’ did you use to live in?”

“If we’re counting duration, I spent my whole life living inside your ‘Divine Realm’,” Salaar replied with a smile. “You were always watching me. Why ask something you already know?”

Clearly dissatisfied with that answer, Myss exhaled warm, damp breaths against Salaar’s chin again and again, clearly planning to launch a small-scale Night Scourge at his face.

Salaar lowered his head, looking at Myss who was so close he could count every detail. The magical light illuminated his face so clearly that even the blood vessels in his neck were visible.

Salaar parted his lips, about to say something, when Myss’s eyes suddenly shifted and he darted off—

“Myss?!”

Seeing Myss vanish into the darkness, Salaar’s scalp went numb. He no longer bothered maintaining appearances in front of the others and immediately chased after him.

Knife raised his head anxiously, his voice jostling with Salaar’s footsteps.

“What if this time the Abnormal Fruit is only targeting Myss?”

“What if the previous scent was just bait?”

“What if—”

“Shut up,” Salaar said through clenched teeth.

“I’m only making objective analyses!” Knife cried. “I’m saying, what if Myss—”

Salaar freed one hand and clamped it over the snake’s mouth. Luckily, just as he rounded the corner, he ran straight into Myss on his way back.

Lord Archdemon looked thoroughly pleased with himself, holding a snow-white rabbit by the ears.

The rabbit kicked frantically, its nose twitching with panic.

“That was the source of the aura just now, but it doesn’t carry any Abnormal Fruit scent,” Myss said with a snort. “So it wasn’t a person. Just a rabbit.”

Salaar breathed out a sigh of relief. “Don’t run off like that again. If you’re going to run, at least tell me first.”

“What kind of stupid thing are you saying? Think about it. That’d be impossible,” Myss wrinkled his nose. “By the time I finished notifying you, it would’ve already vanished.”

Knife: “That is a rather unreasonable demand, I admit. My apologies, Salaar isn’t being rational.”

Fork poked its head out from Myss’s sleeve. “What stupid thing are you saying? Salaar is always unreasonable. Anyway, enough nonsense. Let the priest talk to this furball.”

It pointed at the agitated rabbit with the tip of its tail.

The rabbit screamed, “Help! Gross! The snakes—they can talk?!”

Silence.

Both Myss and Salaar looked at the rabbit. The rabbit, meanwhile, stared in horror at the snake on Myss’s wrist, as if Fork was about to climb all over it.

…And then Fork excitedly did exactly that.

“AAAAAHHHHHHH!” the rabbit screamed. “Get it off me! Get that thing off me!”

Another stretch of silence.

Professor Gentry’s group happened to arrive just in time to witness the absurd scene.

“Let me go! Let me go!” the rabbit squirmed. “You damned humans, always bullying the weak!”

Professor Gentry spoke first. “…May I ask who you are?”

“I’m obviously a rabbit! Old man, are you blind?” the rabbit kindly shot back.

Gentry remained unfazed. “Just now you said ‘you damned humans’… So other than the few of us here, you’ve seen other humans before?”

“I have,” the rabbit said rapidly, its three-part mouth twitching nonstop. “They’re all down there. Every last one of them is stupid. They can’t even find their way out.”

“My god, they’re alive?!” Beverly immediately clapped a hand over her mouth.

“I wish I’d killed them,” the rabbit said.

“If you guide us there, we’ll take them out,” Beverly said, rushing over and clutching the rabbit tightly. “I promise—I promise we’ll get them out of here immediately. No human will ever bother you again.”

“It’s us!” the rabbit shouted. “Humans invaded our city. You owe us a formal apology!”

“No problem,” Beverly said urgently.

Myss: “…”

“Under normal circumstances, rabbits aren’t supposed to talk, right?” he asked, handing the rabbit over to Beverly and freeing his hands to pinch his own cheek to make sure he wasn’t dreaming.

“Rabbits aren’t supposed to talk,” Salaar confirmed.

He also secretly pinched his own thigh, making sure Myss didn’t notice.

“It could also be an alchemical creature, like your snakes,” Professor Gentry said slowly. “This is a Night Scourge ruin. Finding alchemical life here wouldn’t be strange.”

“Yes, it could be a pet that’s undergone alchemical modification,” Beverly said, hugging the still-furious rabbit. “We’ve found headless cattle before too. Supposedly they were designed specifically to provide meat.”

Salaar’s eyebrow twitched.

People now forgot this too easily: in the Night Scourge era, magic had been a power wielded by only a small minority. Alchemical magic was enjoyed by royalty and high nobility. Headless cattle were absolutely the sort of commission only royalty could afford.

A pet that could talk?

That was extravagantly luxurious. It had no business appearing in a small ruin.

Still, he didn’t object. Just like Professor Gentry, he recognized what mattered most here. Right now, this rabbit was their most valuable clue.

“You’ve done something important, Myss,” Salaar said, raising his voice.

“Yeah. Without me, what would you do?” Myss said smugly. “I knew it. There was no way my senses could be wrong—”

“Thank you, Mr. Myss.” Beverly finally seemed to calm down a little. Realizing Salaar was looking at her, she suddenly came to herself and hastily thanked Myss.

Myss glanced at her without much interest and gave a vague grunt.

Only then did Salaar look away from her and back at Myss. “I’d like to revise my requirements.”

“—Request.”

“Fine, I’d like to revise my request,” Salaar said readily. “Even if you did render an important service this time, you still can’t go running off at random.”

“…If you really have to run, at least drag me along with you.”

---

The author has something to say:

Narrator: Salaar is full of killing intent toward you.

Myss: Mm-hmm. So he wants to kill me the most, right?

Narrator: Yes.

Myss: YEAHHHHHHH I WON! [fireworks]

…That’s just how the Chaos Archdemon is. (?

---

<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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

---

Chapter 58: The Silver Pocket Watch

…It just moved on its own?

Myss didn’t believe a single word of that. Salaar was definitely messing with him.

He had publicly bitten—no, kissed—Salaar, so there was no reason for Salaar to kiss him back as some kind of follow-up.

And if it was something Salaar had done, then there had to be some incredible scheme behind it. If that pinch hadn’t drawn blood, Myss would almost have suspected it was some occult sacrifice, or a curse ritual unique to humans.

…Thinking back on it, though, that feeling really had been strange.

Lately, Myss had buried his face in cat fur often enough. Apple had even licked his chin before, and that tongue had been warm too.

But back then, his body had never reacted with that same tingling numbness. Still shaken, Myss touched his neck and chest. The tightness left behind after that numbness was still there.

In the end, Salaar really had achieved some kind of goal. Myss could no longer brazenly bite him whenever he felt like it. If Salaar used the same trick and kissed him back twice as hard, then things would really turn into “Sweet Trap”.

At present, hugging still worked well enough. Kissing would have to be used with caution. The next time he kissed Salaar, it would have to be swift, precise, and ruthless, making sure Salaar had no chance to resist.

Myss reached this conclusion quickly and finally felt a little more at ease.

While Professor Gentry and his students inspected the stone gate, he quietly told Salaar about the Abnormal Fruit scent.

“Only the rabbit’s foot?” Salaar thought for a moment, then caught Myss by the wrist. “Good. We’ve still got over an hour. Come on, let’s take a look around.”

“Huh?”

“They have their investigation; we have ours.” Salaar’s tone was steady, as if the person who had just pinched himself so hard moments ago had been someone else entirely.

Fine. Myss conceded to that.

There were too many people around, so Salaar led him forward by the wrist. Myss found it uncomfortable.

He twisted his arm free and directly took Salaar’s hand instead. Salaar’s hand was relatively large, so Myss couldn’t grip it especially firmly, but it was still much better than being tugged around.

Salaar’s hand stiffened, and his palm grew a little damp. Taking advantage of that, Myss laced his fingers through Salaar’s.

Salaar coughed once, his grip loosening, and let Myss hold on.

This brought Myss great satisfaction.

He had always thought human “appendages” weren’t dexterous enough. The ten “tentacles” on their hands were far too rigid, with bones inside them, and could only bend in certain directions. They were short too, with clumsy flesh-pads at the ends, nowhere near as flexible as his original tentacles.

Long ago, Salaar had specifically grabbed a bunch of his little tentacles and stuffed them into gloves.

Then that bastard would poke at him with his fingers just to see how the tentacles moved under the restraint of the gloves. If Myss had understood human culture well enough back then, he probably would have flipped him off.

Unfortunately, at that time he… It hadn’t occurred to him. All he could do was twist around irritably and “grasp” the fingers Salaar poked at him with.

And every time, Salaar would let out an undignified little laugh. Every, single, time.

Now, Myss had been stuffed into a much more delicate “human-skin glove,” and his movements were much more human-like, yet Salaar was the one growing uncomfortable.

Perhaps, for humans, holding hands was the smallest scale of embrace.

Once that thought came to him, Myss tightened his grip.

Hand in hand, the two of them wore suspiciously calm expressions. They avoided muddy pits full of stagnant water, stepped onto relatively clean grass, and checked the stalls one by one.

Salaar bought one of every food item they saw and “sweetly” shared them with Myss. Myss refused nothing, eating until sauce stained the corners of his mouth, but he still didn’t taste any hint of the Abnormal Fruit.

Salaar sighed, pulled out a handkerchief, and used wiping his enemy’s mouth as cover while quietly tossing a cleansing spell.

They kept their hands tightly clasped the whole time, so tight that both their knuckles were whitening and their joints creaking softly.

Quite a few single men and women shot them admiring or envious looks. Sadly, only the two of them knew the painful little secret behind it.

After searching the food stalls, they squeezed into the trinket area. Most of the people here were commoners, so the wares were common too—all sorts of miscellaneous odds and ends piled together.

Salaar reached into one heap of junk and fished out a pocket watch that was at least somewhat decent.

Its case was sterling silver, tarnished black in places, covered in dents and scratches. Still, Salaar could tell it hadn’t been poorly maintained. It was simply old. There was also a small mechanism on the casing for setting a gemstone, one that could fit stones of different sizes.

Naturally, since it had ended up in a junk stall, there was no gemstone in it.

Salaar felt a stir of interest.

The watch wasn’t particularly valuable, but its signs of wear were just right. It would suit Tass’s gem nicely. He had only just picked it up when Myss said, “You’re buying it for that Dragon Fae?”

The question was completely innocent. Myss was probably just curious. Yet the words landed in Salaar’s ears in a peculiarly awkward way.

He cleared his throat. “It’s for you.”

“I don’t need something like that.”

“It suits your ranger outfit better,” Salaar said. “Neither ‘Young Master Karns’ nor ‘Scholar Salaar’ would use such a plain old pocket watch.”

“Letting Tass hide on you would also be better for your safety. You’re not exactly good at defensive magic, are you?”

“You’d really be that altruistic?” Myss looked at him suspiciously.

It sounded, absurdly enough, like Salaar was concerned about him.

“I know you’re unhappy about Tass joining us. This can also help the two of you get used to each other,” Salaar said smoothly. “Besides, you’re very mobile, and that makes up for Tass’s lack of stamina.”

Now that sounded more like the Salaar he knew. Myss accepted the watch and casually hooked it onto his belt.

Truth be told, the watch wasn’t ugly. Its silver case was engraved with delicate sun-and-moon patterns, and the gemstone slot sat right between the two.

“You two have a fine eye for quality,” the stall owner said with a suggestive smile. “Don’t worry, I don’t believe in the Church of Cadence. I only believe in the Eternal Hearth. The God of the Stove watches over every home.”

“This belonged to a distant relative of mine. Supposedly it was a love token from her husband. They’d known each other since childhood, and after they married, they were happy as could be. Lived to ninety-something together.”

Myss and Salaar: “…”

They had been together for over three hundred years, at least three times longer than that couple. Admittedly, “sweet and happy” wasn’t exactly the first phrase that came to mind for their own relationship.

“This fine antique is only one gold ring!”

The stall owner kept going enthusiastically, clearly afraid Myss might take off the pocket watch he had just fastened to his vest and hand it back. “Wear it, and you two are sure to live sweetly and happily too.”

Suddenly, Myss caught a very faint scent.

He immediately took the watch off and held it under his nose. Sure enough, there was an extremely thin trace of Abnormal Fruit on it. This time there were no other smells covering it up, so Myss caught it clearly.

It was well worth a gold ring after all. This time the crow-priest ought to reimburse them.

Before Myss could speak, the stall owner saw him take the watch off and his expression changed at once. “You look like you really like this watch, and it seems to have some fate with you. How about eight silver shields?”

Myss: “…”

Salaar smiled gently. “Six silver shields. The gem slot is broken, and the parts were never replaced on time. We’d have to find someone to repair it ourselves.”

“You wouldn’t lose money selling it for four, but I like the story you just told, so I’m offering six.”

The stall owner opened his mouth, stared for a while, then sighed. “Fine. Six silver shields. Take it.”

“If that crow-priest is paying anyway, why bother haggling?” Myss played with the small, delicate silver pocket watch.

“Oh, I’m paying for this one myself,” Salaar said. “It’s something I’m giving you, after all. Asking someone else to cover it would be in poor taste.”

Myss’s first instinct was that he was losing out. But then he thought about how this was from Salaar. No—how he was confiscating it from a submissive Salaar. That made him feel a surge of amusement.

After a moment’s thought, he wrapped the little trophy in a handkerchief. This time, instead of hanging it casually from his belt, he tucked it into the pocket over his chest.

……

After a full round of searching, they found no other objects carrying the scent of the Abnormal Fruit besides the rabbit’s foot and the pocket watch.

With time running short, the two exchanged a glance and headed for the largest tent there—the red-and-white circus tent.

They hadn’t even reached the entrance when they ran into Father Kalen, glowing with good spirits.

A wood pigeon with a striped tail stood on his shoulder, head tilted, black bead-like eyes fixed on them.

“This pigeon happened to pass by, and it told me Cinnamon found its little master.”

Father Kalen spoke happily. “After the Perfected Creation’s influence vanished, the children were among the first to wake up. Apparently that child cried and cried, insisting on finding Cinnamon. Once he did, he just kept apologizing through tears and wouldn’t let go of him.”

“Apple was taken back by his original family too. Butter’s former people never showed up, but Butter has decided to stay with Miss Claws. According to him, the meals at Antis’s estate are better than the ones at his old home.”

Kalen’s joy was genuine. It was rare to hear him talk so excitedly and at such length.

The pigeon cooed several times, flapping hard, as if striking Father Kalen’s ear with its wings.

Salaar asked, “What’s it saying?”

“It says it only happened to pass by, and since it remembered how much I cared about this matter, it told me casually. Actually, it especially hates those cats and told me not to get the wrong idea,” Father Kalen replied.

Was it coincidence, or luck?

Myss leaned closer. As always, Kalen had no strange scent on him. Neither did the pigeon.

“By the way, were you planning to investigate the circus?” Father Kalen asked. “I already did. The animals all like this place very much.”

“Some monkeys had inflamed paws that wouldn’t heal no matter what, but once they came here, they improved quickly. If there were some wrong sort of magical fluctuation here, animals should be even more sensitive to it.”

Salaar looked at Myss. Myss shook his head. “I still want to go in and take a look.”

But just as he said that, the communication device on him vibrated.

It was the one Professor Gentry had distributed to them after the contracts were signed.

This was a special expedition communications device, shaped like a tiny gold badge, no bigger than a thumbnail. It was much more refined than the seashells from Samper, with astonishingly clear transmission and precise positioning built in.

“Our preliminary survey is done. It’ll be dark soon, so we need to head underground quickly.”

Beverly’s rapid-fire voice burst from the device.

“At night the flow of magic is different from daytime. Ruins are more magically active after dark, and it’s easier to find anomalous points—yes, Professor, I realize this isn’t the best time for explanations—anyway, get over here!”

Myss looked up at the point of the circus tent. The place was too large. They probably wouldn’t finish investigating it anytime soon.

The priest could be considered an expert on Abnormal Fruits, and he also had the ability to detect ill omen. If even he hadn’t noticed anything from this close, then at worst this place only held another faint, half-worthless trace.

They had already gotten something out of the trip. That was enough for now.

He squeezed Salaar’s hand, and the two turned toward the stone gate.

Inside the tent—

“Everything’s ready for tonight’s performance, right?”

A staff member wiped the sweat from his forehead and turned toward the newest member in the employee tent.

The newcomer smiled. “Everything’s ready, sir.”

“You’ve got some luck, kid. My previous backup just happened to have a family emergency. Otherwise, we wouldn’t have been hiring at the last minute.”

The staffer sighed. “This place really is something special. So far every performance’s gone smoothly. But as my substitute, you can’t slack off. If something happens—and I mean if something really happens—both of us are going to be in deep trouble.”

“I understand, sir.”

The short newcomer smiled, his face painted in exaggerated greasepaint.

“Please don’t worry. I’m very confident in both puppet manipulation and ventriloquism.”

“Fair enough. I suppose the ringmaster wouldn’t hire just anyone either.”

The staffer grinned, his brightly painted mouth stretching absurdly wide. “Let’s make a fortune together, Mr. Kai.”

Kai smiled and nodded, then looked toward the outside of the tent.

The entrance flap hadn’t quite fallen shut, leaving a narrow slit of sky visible. The heavens were shifting from iris blue to deep indigo, a few stars already pricking through like needlepoints in velvet.

“It’ll be dark soon,” he remarked, half-absently.

……

“It’ll be dark soon. Next time, don’t dawdle like this.”

It was evident Beverly was trying to keep her emotions in check. But when it came to her friend’s whereabouts, her face was still stretched taut.

Salaar listened humbly.

Beverly’s team had been rushing around gathering data and preparing things, while his and Myss’s side had gone off on a loving date—or at least looked like they had. Her bad mood was only natural.

At long last, Myss released Salaar’s hand. He raised the hand that had gone numb from being gripped so long and attached the emerald containing the Dragon Fae to the pocket watch.

With so many people around, Tass didn’t show himself easily. He only briefly stuck his head out to say he had no objections. From start to finish, he had noticed none of the Abnormal Fruit scent on the watch, enough to show just how faint it really was.

On the way here, Salaar had told Father Kalen about Myss’s discovery. The priest had checked both the rabbit’s foot and the watch carefully, and in the end had only shaken his head.

“I don’t sense anything abnormal at all,” he said solemnly. “According to what Mr. Myss described, the scent on the watch appeared suddenly. That doesn’t make sense. At least, I’ve never encountered a case like that.”

Kalen didn’t directly deny Myss’s discovery, but he was clearly reserving judgment.

Humans really are troublesome, Myss thought.

Salaar, at least, had never doubted him. Not even for a second. Even though Salaar himself couldn’t sense any abnormal magical fluctuation.

While Myss’s thoughts drifted, Professor Gentry opened the stone gate.

The elephant magic base lifted its trunk, and Gentry effortlessly undid the sealing magic artifact at the entrance. Beverly and Asp used illusion magic together, ensuring that no one else nearby would notice anything amiss.

The enormous stone gate slid open soundlessly, revealing darkness behind it that seemed almost solid.

Even though it was already evening, the blackness beyond still looked bottomless, like a pool of ink.

Professor Gentry snapped his fingers, and six tiny magical devices floated up into the air.

They looked like oversized mechanical fireflies, each with a bulb the size of a quail egg set into its belly. They climbed onto the front of each person’s clothes on their own, lighting the surrounding area as brightly as day, without glaring in the eyes.

The scene beyond the gate was somewhat duller than Myss had expected.

Beyond the entrance was still a gently descending passage. Stone pillars reinforced both sides, forming a tunnel like a tomb corridor. Dry oil lamps lined the tunnel walls, stretching into darkness with no visible end.

As a refuge from the Night Scourge era, the entrance tunnel had no magical traps at all. Its magical fluctuations were effectively nonexistent.

“A very common design. Nothing sophisticated. Just ordinary.”

Salaar glanced around. “The site selection wasn’t ideal. Larger underground cities were built near underground rivers. There would usually be a waterway at the entrance to make transporting supplies easier.”

His voice was pitched so it sounded like he was talking only to Myss, but anyone nearby paying even a little attention could hear it.

“The defenses are that bad? Weren’t they worried people might break in?” Myss didn’t understand.

Other than the sealing artifact Roman’s team had left behind, the stone gate itself had almost no defensive magic. Let alone an adult—even a stubborn child could probably find a way to slip in.

Human cities on the surface had defenses, but underground ones were this generous? That was strange.

Salaar gave a short laugh. “The real defenses were all inside the underground city.”

Myss still didn’t get it. “Wouldn’t it be more convenient to guard the entrance and exit?”

Even you knew enough to guard the exit to my seal.

After he asked that, a strange silence fell over the group.

Salaar was quiet for a good while before continuing. “First of all, once the Night Scourge fell, the closer you got to the surface, the colder it became. People didn’t want to stay too close to the surface.”

“Secondly, during the Night Scourge, food was one of the scarcest resources. So if ‘food’ delivered itself to your door, most people… wouldn’t refuse.”

Myss thought it over, then gave an enlightened little “oh.”

Father Kalen murmured a few brief prayers. No one else said anything. Thinking of what might have happened to Roman’s team, Beverly and Asp looked even worse.

Myss, however, shifted his attention almost immediately. He glanced down the seemingly endless tunnel and started fiddling with the firefly device on his chest.

“There are fragments of sunstone inside it.”

Seeing Myss tugging curiously at the device, Professor Gentry explained in a warm, mellow voice. His tone broke the silence, and the atmosphere became less oppressive.

“Sunstone gives off light similar to sunlight, but its magical fluctuations are very faint. Used in lighting devices, it minimizes interference as much as possible.”

Myss: “…”

That actually wasn’t what he’d been curious about.

He’d just thought the bulb made a nice rattling sound when it shook. But he didn’t want to provoke the Kingdom Archmage, so he only nodded perfunctorily.

“I remember that during the Night Scourge, sunstone was more expensive than gold. Only great nobles could afford it.”

Salaar took the initiative to continue the conversation. “Once activated, its light could only last one day at most. It was consumed terribly fast.”

“That’s right.”

Professor Gentry looked pleased. “We’ve adjusted many of these devices, but at most we can stretch the lighting time to a day and a half. The tradeoff is that the devices become absurdly heavy.”

“So technically, we’re still using designs from the Night Scourge era. Interested in Night Scourge history, Mr. Salaar?”

“Well, I gave myself a ‘nickname’ like this, didn’t I? Naturally I’m interested.” Salaar smiled.

Here he goes again, Myss snorted.

The assistant contract Salaar had signed was under Kendrick Karns. Yet Professor Gentry had not called him Karns even once. He had even asked him what name he preferred to be called.

So Salaar had openly introduced himself as Salaar. After all, in the current age, the name was common enough.

Thinking about all this talk of the Night Scourge, Myss didn’t feel anything like guilt.

…Still, he understood a little better now why the stories of “Saint Salaar” were still sung by bards to this day.

He was just thinking back to those cloying lyrics when Fork suddenly tightened around his wrist.

Myss’s expression sharpened. He grabbed Salaar in one swift motion—

“Don’t move.”

He whispered, “…There’s someone ahead.”

---

The author has something to say:

Myss: Human tentacles are terrible.

Come to think of it, humans touching each other all over is also a kind of tentacle behavior…

By that logic, Salaar has tentacles too. Everyone has tentacles. Yay. [wave][sunglasses][wave]

---

<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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

---

Chapter 57: Deviation

“Luck?” Salaar mulled over the word for a moment.

“Not the kind of crazy luck where you get rich overnight. More like ‘finding a chicken leg’ kind of luck.”

Labi tore into the chicken leg in huge bites, his mouth glistening with grease. “I sell my rabbit’s feet and run into generous customers, this place can make that happen. If I wake up one morning and find out I’m the illegitimate child of some great noble house, that’s just pure delusion.”

“Some noble lords came here too, hoping to make investments, and they failed. That’s why it’s only commoners here now. I heard some people are even planning to build a village here!”

“In other words, people can only get ‘luck for the here and now’ from this place.” Salaar thought it over. “The moment outside factors come into play, the ‘luck’ stops working. Is that about right?”

“More or less. The people who come here are mostly doing business. Some come here to treat illnesses too.”

The chicken leg had been roasted crudely, with barely any seasoning, but Labi still sucked every scrap of meat clean. “Some boring bards come here just to write songs. There are even ridiculous people who come here to look for lovers. Ah, and here they come.”

Myss slowly turned his head and found a group of young people approaching them. The categories were especially obvious: a few young women were trying to get close to Salaar, chests lifted, confident smiles on their faces.

A few young men were walking toward him, their eyes like they were staring at prey already in hand.

Myss: “…”

Their gaze was completely different from the way Salaar looked at him. It was light, vulgar, and deeply irritating.

Black magic wound around his fingertips. Myss was already itching to step forward and teach the one in front a lesson. But before he could act, Salaar wrapped an arm around his waist and yanked him over to his side.

Salaar held his waist tightly, practically pinning half of Myss against himself. Anyone with eyes could tell their relationship wasn’t ordinary.

Then Salaar pressed his lips to the side of Myss’s temple, looking as if he had left him a kiss.

Hidden by his ash-gray hair, Salaar moved his lips slightly. “Be careful of the Professor.”

His breath brushed against Myss’s ear, so faint it was almost imperceptible, tickling Myss’s ear. No, not just his ear. From his ear to his neck, then down to his chest, it felt as if nettles had brushed over his skin, leaving behind a strange tingling itch.

Salaar had controlled the distance perfectly. His lips hadn’t even touched Myss’s hair.

With Salaar this close, a very interesting question suddenly occurred to Myss: everyone on this land became lucky, and Salaar’s misfortune happened to be his good luck. So how was that supposed to work out?

Fortunately, he had a ready-made way to test it.

Before Salaar had even moved away, Myss hooked an arm around the Great Hero’s neck and bit straight at his face. Salaar didn’t manage to dodge in time and got chomped squarely, leaving a very obvious bite mark on his cheek.

Sure enough, Salaar’s body stiffened again.

This time he recovered faster than last time. He only looked at Myss with a complicated expression. Myss shot him a provocative grin. “Since I can’t hit you, I can only move some other parts.”

Salaar touched the place on his cheek where he’d been bitten but said nothing.

…Oh, so luck was on his side here, thought Myss with satisfaction.

That thought had barely finished turning over in his mind when a warm hand cupped his face, and something even warmer landed at the corner of his mouth.

Salaar lowered his head and kissed the corner of Myss’s lips.

Myss’s eyes flew wide open. Salaar’s face was suddenly right there in front of him. He was too close. Those sapphire-blue eyes were squeezed shut, and Myss couldn’t read his expression at all.

Myss: “…?”

Was this retaliation?

Myss couldn’t quite tell. If it were retaliation, Salaar ought to bite him back. If he were trying to mess with him with some “Sweet Trap” trope, then he ought to be kissing him on the lips… Unless this was a response to the kiss on his forehead? But Myss didn’t have any “love” to be tainted.

That kiss was too light, and its intent too ambiguous. Myss’s brain stalled out on the spot.

Seeing how “consumed by passion” the two of them supposedly were, the girls sighed and left. The young men took one look at Salaar’s brooding face and backed off as well.

Salaar let him go, his face once again the picture of calm control, as if this had been nothing more than ordinary cover.

Unfortunately, they were standing too close. Salaar’s body moved, and Myss noticed immediately—

One of Salaar’s hands was jammed in his pocket, pinching his own thigh with brutal force.

Myss: “…???”

What kind of weird human behavior was this now?

Even back in the seal, when Salaar had first grabbed one of his tentacles and tried chewing on it, Myss hadn’t been this baffled.

The next second, alarm bells exploded in his head.

This place was saturated with so-called luck. And Salaar was the source of all his misfortune, a clear, useful living coordinate. Now that coordinate seemed to have gone slightly wrong.

“Wow, so sweet.” Labi whistled, far too worldly for his age. “You two look so striking together; who knows—maybe some bard will even write songs about you!”

“So not everything here turns lucky. At least those people didn’t succeed in hitting on us.”

Salaar smoothly shifted the topic away, still wearing a composed expression.

…Why had Salaar pinched himself just now? Myss wondered.

“Like how my rabbit’s feet don’t sell out every day. Everyone’s just normal people—how could everything possibly go well all the time?” Labi said briskly. “Still, too much luck really can make people swell up with themselves. You two making them realize reality early was lucky for them.”

Salaar: “An excellent explanation.”

Labi was a responsible little guide. He led them all the way to the center of this lucky place—a massive stone door leading underground.

Long ago, people had dug out a gentle slope into the earth and paved it with broken stone slabs. At the end stood that vertical stone gate. It was an ordinary gray-white door, carved with artistic patterns imitating the sun, just wide enough for a tall carriage to pass through.

More than three hundred years later, the relief carvings had weathered away. The once-fine sculpture had become pitted and rough.

At this moment, the heavy door was shut tight, sealed layer upon layer with magical artifacts. The people nearby kept a careful distance from it, as if they instinctively didn’t want to get close.

“This is it.” Labi smugly wiped his nose. “Thanks for the chicken leg. I live southwest of here—if you need anything, just shout in that direction.”

Then the boy took off running.

He pulled out a pair of rabbit’s feet dyed pink and bounded like a rabbit toward a neatly dressed couple.

As soon as Labi was gone, Beverly and Asp strode toward the stone gate. Their expressions barely held together, both sets of eyes red with strain.

“Stop.”

Professor Gentry raised his voice slightly.

The two froze instantly, like they’d been hit with a petrification spell, not daring to take another step.

“That’s Roman’s sealing artifact, Professor.” Beverly turned back, her voice hoarse.

“The closer we get to the target, the more important it is to keep your mind steady. Don’t rush.” Professor Gentry soothed her gently. “Beverly, I hope you’ll pay more attention to detail. If you lead a team on your own in the future, you’ll be responsible for everyone’s safety. You have to let people trust you.”

Beverly took a deep breath and forced down her ragged breathing.

She made herself study the stone door. Her tiger Magibase prowled restlessly, a low growl rumbling from its throat.

“…There are traces of interference on Roman’s magic artifact?” She examined it for a good while before speaking, her tone tinged with uncertainty. “Someone tampered with their artifact? My appraisal results are strange.”

“The readings are indeed off.” As the team’s logistics specialist, Asp sounded much more certain, though his voice was full of suppressed anger. “Whoever did it was extremely professional. The fluctuation frequency on this device is almost identical to the standard value…”

“If it hadn’t been someone at Roman’s level of expertise, they’d never have caught it. If the Professor hadn’t pointed it out, I wouldn’t have noticed either…”

Professor Gentry nodded.

Then he turned toward Myss’s group and explained kindly, “Proper calibration of magical artifacts is an extremely important part of preparation. If a detection-type artifact has even the tiniest deviation—no thicker than a strand of hair—it can drag an entire team straight to hell.”

“If I may ask, is it possible one of Roman’s teammates simply made an operational error?” Father Kalen asked carefully.

Whether it was Professor Gentry or his two students, they had all immediately assumed someone had tampered with the equipment.

“Even if you dumped Roman into a barrel while he had a raging fever, got him drunk, and dragged him behind a horse for a mile, he still wouldn’t make a mistake that idiotic.”

Hearing her companion’s team questioned, Beverly’s tone sharpened. “For him, this was the most basic of basics—like a competent priest not forgetting the name of the god he worships.”

Father Kalen nodded in sudden understanding. “I see. Thank you for such an apt explanation.”

Beverly: “…”

“But even if someone sabotaged it, Roman should have noticed quickly…” Asp kept muttering, gnawing nervously at his thumbnail. “And this magical interference is especially strange. I’ve never seen anything like it… The sealing devices aren’t enough. I need to examine their guidance devices too…”

So that was it. These people suspected someone had tried to murder Roman. That culprit had tampered with Roman’s team’s magical equipment, indirectly causing them to disappear in the underground city ruins.

But that rabbit’s foot definitely carried a faint trace of Abnormal Fruit. This probably wasn’t just a case of human infighting.

Myss tried to think further, but the same question was still multiplying inside his head—

Why had Salaar pinched himself just now? He couldn’t stop wondering, and the anxiety simply wouldn’t go away.

“Are we going in immediately?” Salaar asked calmly, completely oblivious to Myss’s internal turmoil.

“I need another hour and twenty-six minutes. I have to conduct magical fluctuation measurements first.” Asp was still chewing his thumbnail. “Beverly will use appraisal magic to examine the surrounding environment. You can rest for now.”

Myss narrowed his eyes at the stone gate. As the center of this land, it oddly carried almost no Abnormal Fruit scent.

Not the gate, and not the humans nearby either. Myss had paid attention—even Labi, who sold the rabbit’s feet, carried none of the Abnormal Fruit smell on him.

So where exactly was that scent coming from?

More importantly, why had Salaar pinched himself?

…Forget it.

Myss resigned himself and turned toward Salaar.

Seeing the solemn look on his face, Salaar’s own expression also grew serious, as if preparing to listen carefully—

“After you kissed me just now, why did you pinch yourself?” Myss asked bluntly.

Salaar: “?”

“Hurry up and tell me.” Myss bared his teeth. “Tell me that, and I’ll tell you my new discovery about the Abnormal Fruit.”

“Fine.”

Salaar lowered those blue eyes of his and gave him the answer with the utmost sincerity—

“No idea. My hand just moved on its own.”

---

The author has something to say:

During the three hundred years inside the seal—

Salaar: I’m sick of eating salt-roasted mushrooms. [helpless]

Salaar: Let’s try a little Chaos Archdemon instead. [shrug]

Salaar: (chew chew)

…Then he discovered that not only could he not bite through it, he couldn’t even chew it apart. [okay]

Myss, watching from the sidelines: [horrified][horrified][horrified][angry][angry][angry]

---

<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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

---

Chapter 56: Rabbit’s Foot

That night, Myss slept exceptionally well.

He opened his eyes in satisfaction only to be greeted by the sight of two massive dark circles under Salaar’s eyes.

Myss: “?”

Hadn’t this guy fallen asleep the moment he hit the bed last night? Was he faking it?

The instant he noticed Myss looking at him, the Great Hero swiped a hand over his face, and the dark circles vanished on the spot. Silently, he propped himself up and tugged at Myss’s sleepwear collar.

A beam of sunlight slipped through the gap in the curtains and fell near Myss’s collarbone. It looked like molten gold running over his pale skin, glaringly bright.

Following Salaar’s gaze, Myss lowered his head and realized that the top half of his sleepwear had come loose. He simply stripped it off and wrapped himself in a ranger’s outfit woven from magic.

The entire process was carried out in broad daylight, openly, completely naked the whole time.

Salaar was silent for a long moment. “We’ll be sleeping in tents during the expedition. Don’t change like that when other people are around.”

Myss shrugged it off. “I’m not stupid.”

The clothes woven from annihilation magic were one of his secret weapons.

Salaar saw right through what he meant. “I’m talking about human etiquette.”

“Isn’t it just ‘don’t walk around naked in front of other people’? Of course I know that.”

Myss reached back and started tugging at Salaar’s clothes, peeling at them like corn husks. “You’re so annoying. You’re not other people anyway.”

Salaar: “…Haa.”

With a complicated expression on his face, he reached out and knocked lightly on Myss’s head.

The Archdemon’s skull made a solid thunk. Enraged, Myss and Fork both pounced on Salaar, and another round of noisy hand-to-hand warmup broke out.

Other than that early-morning stretching routine, nothing else went wrong.

Tass didn’t speak with much refinement, but he was impressively efficient when it came to supplies. He had prepared dried bread and jerky in advance, as well as honeyed candied fruit. Besides the necessary medicines, salt, and sugar, he also gave each of them a magical water pouch that could condense water from the air.

Kalen, meanwhile, brought the final piece of news from the cat intelligence network.

“A lot of people have shown up near the Rabbit Hole over the last few months. A few wild cats came over from there, and they’re especially angry about it.”

Father Kalen continued, “But this morning I did another divination just to be sure, and I still didn’t sense any ill omen.”

Tass said, “A sudden influx of humans? I remember that place being wasteland. Do the cats know what’s going on?”

“They only know that humans brought a lot of pet cats and dogs and took over their territory,” Kalen said honestly.

“I suppose we’ll find out soon enough,” Salaar said.

With one ear, Myss listened to the humans jabbering. With the other, he listened to the birds chirping outside the window. His mouth was too busy sweeping up the jam pies on the table for him to join the conversation.

All he cared about was what the ruins themselves looked like. He had no interest in these bits of trivial gossip.

He had Salaar, a “local,” on the team. He had experience fighting two Abnormal Fruits already. He had the crow priest’s promise of luck. Myss felt confident that nothing could go too terribly wrong.

Compared to that, the Kingdom Archmage was much more irritating.

That man hadn’t been able to escape the Divine Realm, yet he had endured the Perfected Creation’s mental lashing and consciously spied on their battle… So far, everyone kept saying that Professor Gentry had a good temper, but nobody had mentioned his actual abilities.

The power of two Abnormal Fruits was certainly a welcome asset, but when it came to Professor Gentry, Myss had no intention of underestimating him.

His silver fork speared the last piece of tender meat on the plate. Myss popped it into his mouth, leaving behind only a faint smear of blood-colored juices.

……

The Rabbit Hole really wasn’t far from Semper. It lay on the main route between Semper and the capital, Serpentia, separated from the main road by only a single mountain. It wasn’t exactly in the middle of nowhere.

The only troublesome part was that Rabbit Hole sat at the junction of several mountains. The roads were bad, and there were no nearby rivers or lakes, so no proper village had formed there.

Once they left Semper, the weather turned gloomy.

The nearby mountains were rounded, with little forest and lots of brush. The whole area felt oppressively strange. Myss sniffed the moisture in the air and had the feeling it was going to rain.

Salaar had his arms folded and, uncharacteristically, nodded off several times. His head drooped and swayed until at last he slumped against Myss.

Myss frowned at him.

The carriage was packed tightly. He, Salaar, and the priest sat on one side. Professor Gentry and his two students sat opposite. Tass, taking advantage of his race, was resting inside a piece of emerald.

If Myss wanted to shove Salaar away, his only option was to push Salaar’s head onto the priest’s shoulder.

…Myss imagined it for a moment, realized he didn’t want to see that, and let it go.

The carriage jolted, and Salaar’s head settled fully on Myss’s shoulder.

His breathing rose and fell evenly. Myss couldn’t tell whether he was just putting on a show for Professor Gentry or if he really had slept badly. As revenge, Myss tugged Knife out of Salaar’s sleeve and idly coiled it in his palm.

“What’s the relationship between you two?”

Beverly blinked and asked the question directly.

Myss pretended not to hear.

But Beverly clearly wasn’t someone who cared about social etiquette. She stared at them with the gaze of someone scrutinizing research specimens, and it made Myss uncomfortable all over.

Kind Father Kalen came to the rescue. He gave her a slight nod, then shook his head.

“Oh.” Beverly understood. “A same-sex couple. That explains it.”

“Don’t worry. We’re not Church of Cadence devotees, so we don’t have any prejudice about that sort of thing. Well… more accurately, I suppose we count as broad believers in the Cadence Church?”

“Nothing is ever that absolute,” Professor Gentry said with a smile, without answering directly.

Beverly gave a serious oh and went right back to chattering. “Even so, you don’t need to worry. My teacher and we are in roughly the same situation. We’re all nobles from Aufon, so publicly we have to believe a little.”

“Except for idiots who go looking for trouble, no noble would deliberately jump out and advertise themselves as an atheist. So on matters like this—”

“…Beverly, my ears hurt,” Asp said painfully, cutting her off.

“Then let them hurt,” Beverly said mercilessly. “I’m explaining things clearly so there won’t be unnecessary misunderstandings. We’re not on some sightseeing trip underground. The fewer misunderstandings among teammates, the better.”

Asp silently took out a pair of bright yellow earplugs and carefully put them in.

Beverly clicked her tongue and turned back toward Myss, only to discover with disappointment that he had already turned his head to look out the window, radiating a clear don’t-talk-to-me attitude.

Salaar was much taller than Myss. With his head resting there, half his body leaned against Myss as well. Yet despite the carriage’s slight jostling, Myss remained perfectly steady, showing no sign of being weighed down, as if solid, sturdy Salaar were nothing more than an oversized feather.

“You’ve been staring at Myss the whole time.” Salaar, who had woken up at some point without anyone noticing, curved his eyes into a smile as he looked at her. “Is something the matter, Miss Beverly?”

“Just Beverly is fine.”

Beverly’s gaze remained on Myss. “I’ve attended quite a few high-society gatherings and seen many of Aufon’s top beauties. Your lover would rank among the best of them.”

“Thank you,” Salaar replied politely. “But I suspect that isn’t the only reason, is it?”

The way Beverly looked at Myss was neither admiration from the opposite sex nor simple attraction to beauty. There was no amazement in her eyes. Only pure inquiry.

“Roman’s condition was a bit similar to Mr. Myss’s—white hair and red eyes.” Beverly said, “Though Roman’s hair was whiter, his irises were closer to pink, and his complexion was more sickly.”

“Roman had albinism, but he believed that appearance was his good fortune. Because he feared sunlight, he chose to study underground cities from the Night Scourge era and became the greatest explorer of them all in one stroke. And Roman’s Magibase was an enormous white moose. He thought it was fate compensating him.”

“I was just thinking that even though the coloring is similar, Mr. Myss looks extremely healthy. If Roman had been cured, maybe he would’ve looked like this too.”

After saying all that in one breath, Beverly paused slightly, as if only then remembering that Roman was already dead.

Her gaze dropped to the floor, and her face went pale.

Professor Gentry patted her shoulder and sighed softly.

“My condolences,” Salaar said quietly, sitting up straight.

“We have to see the body before we can officially confirm Roman’s death.” Asp had apparently taken out his earplugs at some point. “Status crystals aren’t one hundred percent accurate. Roman was a genius. Maybe he came up with some strange trick again…”

It was rare for him to speak such long coherent sentences so fluently.

Myss caught a key word. “A genius?”

Now that someone had responded, Asp’s voice weakened again. “O-of course. Students of a Kingdom Archmage are all geniuses. Being able to use magic before summoning a Magibase is the absolute minimum…”

“Ah, I mean formal apprentices like Beverly and I, not those students taught at the university…”

Myss looked Beverly and Asp up and down and regretfully discovered that neither of them carried the slightest scent of an Abnormal Fruit.

“What a waste that we let it get away. Couldn’t we use these two as bait to lure out… you know what?”

He shot Professor Gentry a glance and whispered into Salaar’s ear in a bare audible voice.

“Absolutely not,” Salaar whispered back with a smile.

“Stingy.”

“This isn’t a matter of stinginess. They’re not worms in the mud.”

“I already lent you my shoulder to sleep on.”

“…That still isn’t something you can use to bargain with.”

“What a miser!”

Myss shoved Knife back into Salaar’s arms and turned to look out the window again.

Watching the two of them huddled together, muttering and bickering, Father Kalen tacitly turned to the people opposite.

“…My apologies. Our party is just like this,” he explained somewhat sheepishly.

……

Honestly, there wasn’t much to see outside. Along the way, Myss saw only a few supply inns and no proper human settlements.

…Until they reached their destination.

“Is that a circus?” Beverly said in disbelief, pointing at an especially large red-and-white striped round tent.

Everyone else—including Myss—was just as surprised as she was.

The destination was packed with all sorts of tents. Some people had even used wooden planks to build something resembling a tavern.

As far as the eye could see, the place was full of bizarre little stalls. At first glance it looked like the market in Rosha City, except much filthier and more chaotic.

Some people had turned wagons into makeshift homes, squeezing them into the spaces between tents, with wooden crates stacked into makeshift steps. The sparse grass had been trampled into a mess by passing horses, and the place was full of wet mud, as well as the smell of horse dung and urine.

Rotting vegetable scraps, broken wood, and gnawed bones were everywhere.

The place was basically a temporary little town made of wagons and tents. Judging by the quality of them, the people here were almost all commoners.

“Welcome, welcome, guests!”

A sharp-eyed child spotted them and ran over, clutching a little cloth bag.

“Would you like to buy a lucky rabbit’s foot, ladies and gentlemen? These are the luckiest rabbit’s feet in all of Aufon, only six silver shields each!”

The child held the bag high and showed them the rabbit feet wrapped in goatskin.

Myss wrinkled his nose. He smelled a heavy herbal scent, along with the stink of rotten meat it was trying to hide.

Salaar smiled at the child, casually bought a white rabbit foot, and used up some of the few silver shields left in his purse.

“What’s your name, kid?” Salaar asked brightly.

“Labi, sir.”

Seeing that Salaar hadn’t even haggled, the little boy looked startled.

“Good, Labi.”

Salaar bent down, bracing both hands on his knees so he could meet the boy’s eyes. “Can you tell me what happened here? The last time we passed through, there weren’t nearly this many people.”

“Oh, this is magical land, sir. If you stay here for a while, your luck gets better. Look! I’ve stayed here the longest, and right away I ran into you!”

Labi rubbed his nose, his mouth sweet as honey.

“The longest, huh? Very impressive.” Salaar smiled. “Suddenly I feel like buying another rabbit’s foot. Tell us about this magical place.”

Labi drew out a long “Hmm.” “That’d take time away from business. You’d have to buy me a roast chicken leg too.”

“No problem.”

Salaar straightened up and reached out to pull Kalen over.

Kalen: “?”

“One rabbit’s foot, one chicken leg, and the six silver shields from the rabbit’s foot just now.”

Salaar lowered his voice. “Reasonable investigation expenses. No problem, right?”

Kalen: “…”

It wasn’t a problem, exactly, but back in Semper, Salaar wouldn’t have bothered charging even the cost of a chicken leg.

Noticing Kalen’s confusion, Salaar flicked a glance at Myss and gave a small hum. “He cares a little about this.”

Kalen: “…………”

The Lord of Shadows taught them that they should respect the beautiful affections between people.

Filled with a strange solemnity, the priest paid without hesitation. Two minutes later, Myss and Salaar each had a white rabbit’s foot in hand, while Labi had gained a chicken leg.

Professor Gentry merely watched the whole process with an amiable smile. His two students didn’t join the conversation either.

Myss was a little dissatisfied, but before they had set out, Salaar had specifically warned him.

This sort of investigative small talk was what assistants were supposed to do, and what “those under observation” were supposed to do too. If they hid things or responded too passively, that would only make them more suspicious.

Since Salaar was the one doing the social work, Myss didn’t care. He lowered his head and absentmindedly fiddled with the shriveled rabbit’s foot.

Rabbits didn’t have paw pads. The foot felt somewhat hard when squeezed.

He wasn’t sure whether it was his imagination, but Myss kept feeling a faint prickly numbness at his fingertips, like touching the fine hairs on a plant. Whenever he touched it more carefully, though, the sensation vanished again.

Myss kneaded the yellowing white fur over and over. Suddenly, inspiration struck. He lifted it beneath his nose and inhaled hard.

Myss had no idea whether this tiny corpse fragment could bring luck.

But amid that overwhelming blend of scents, he really did detect an extremely subtle trace of an Abnormal Fruit.

…Beneath layers upon layers of herbs and carrion stench, it was faint as a sigh.

---

<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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

---

Chapter 55: The Missing Person

Around noon, Salaar and Myss returned to Mr. Anti’s—no, to Tass’s—residence.

“…So what exactly does that professor want?” Father Kalen asked when he heard the important part. He held his breath, even forgetting to pet Cinnamon in his lap. Cinnamon rammed his hand insistently with its head and let out a dissatisfied series of meows.

“He never gave a direct answer. He just said he was offering us an easy chance to make a lot of money,” Myss blurted out. His mind was still full of Professor Gentry’s elephant Magibase.
That Magibase had been huge and powerful, so enormous the reception room could barely contain it. Its trunk swung back and forth while the top of its head disappeared into the ceiling.

“His implication was obvious.” Salaar answered an entirely different question. “He saw us fighting the Perfected Creation—most likely the battle in the first-floor hall. He knows we possess unusual abilities, and that we know something about the Abnormal Fruit.”

“And now he wants us to go with him, probably to figure out what force we belong to, and whether our intentions are malicious.”

“Isn’t that a bit too roundabout?” the priest frowned, scratching Cinnamon behind the ears again.

“Not really,” Salaar said. “My guess is he intends to take us somewhere extremely dangerous and use that as a test.”

If they simply kept a low profile and meant no harm, then if Professor Gentry chose not to report them, he would earn their goodwill. If they did have ill intentions, he could deal with them in an environment tilted to his advantage.

And if they flatly refused, Professor Gentry would absolutely report the matter to the Aufon Royal Family and make sure the Karns family learned where he was. From the hints in that Archmage’s words, he clearly knew about the Karns family’s plot of hiring assassins.

…If they wanted to keep investigating in peace, their options were severely limited.

“And we asked to add people.” Myss was still thinking about their Abnormal Fruit haul. “We demanded that you come along as well, Kalan. Come with us this afternoon and sign the contract.”

“It’s Kalen,” the priest corrected patiently.

Professor Gentry hadn’t refused their request to add more people, though he wouldn’t pay extra wages. Fortunately, Kalen didn’t need gold rings.

“Would you like to hire me too?” another voice suddenly cut in.

Tass dropped down from the gemstone chandelier. He still looked a little dispirited, his soft rose-gold hair in complete disarray.

Tass had no ability to search for Abnormal Fruit, so Myss pretended not to hear him. Salaar, however, grew interested—

Father Kalen understood how to move through alleys and streets, but given his background, he truly lacked insight into the upper echelons of society.

Tass Ga was the exact opposite. Not only did he understand how nobles lived their daily lives, he also knew a fair number of their secrets. And compared to the priest, who mostly relied on brute force, he was much better at magical surprise attacks.

“Why? We don’t have anyone we want dead,” Salaar asked bluntly.

Tass forced a smile. “Tracking and investigating a target is a very important part of assassination work. I questioned Father Kalen while I was searching for that letter from V.O.R.”

“Antis left me quite a substantial inheritance. Killing him wouldn’t cost anywhere near that much.”

His voice gradually grew softer. “I’m a very responsible assassin, so I plan to use V.O.R’s death as supplementary compensation. If it weren’t for that damned bastard, Antis would never have become that kind of monster!”

“Then you can just follow us for free,” Myss suggested.

Tass: “That’s a separate issue. Working with me costs extra, because I’ll be responsible for the safety of all three of you.”

Myss immediately turned to Father Kalen, who shook his head. Clearly, hiring a revenge-driven Dragon Fae as a bodyguard didn’t count as a “reasonable investigative expense” in the Order of Shadows accounting.

Salaar, however, kept going. “How much do you want?”

“Salaar!” Myss bristled. They had fought together the whole time. Half the money in Salaar’s pocket was rightfully his.

“You picked Father Kalen as your teammate, so I get to pick one too. That’s only fair,” Salaar said. “Unless you’re willing to handle all the annoying infiltrating and investigating yourself. In that case, forget I said anything.”

Myss considered it. The fierce look on his face slowly collapsed.

That was true. Tass could do the grunt work for him. And besides, they had just gotten five hundred gold rings. They were hardly poor—

“You seem to have five hundred gold rings, so I’ll only charge four hundred ninety-nine. That will cover until you find V.O.R.—no time limit.”

“And incidentally, I need a lot of gemstones for work. I’ll take care of those myself.”

Tass wore an expression that said they were getting the better end of the deal.

“Four hundred ninety-nine?!” Myss nearly jumped out of his skin, his face twisting into an expression of utter disgust—as if he’d just stepped in a pile of crap.

Wouldn’t that leave them with only six gold rings? And five of those were the leftovers of their earnings in Rosha City.

“Deal.” Salaar smiled and reached out to shake Tass’s hand.

Tass clasped his finger. “Take me to Professor Gentry this afternoon. I need to follow you openly this time… I don’t want to offend a Kingdom Archmage.”

After the agreement was reached, the Dragon Fae actually seemed a bit more spirited. A glint returned to those emerald eyes, though it was edged with coldness.

Myss, meanwhile, stared darkly at the finger Salaar had used for the handshake, as if he wanted to bite it off.

Their money was in there. Salaar had spent almost all of it on his own authority. How were they supposed to live now?!

“This expedition’s profits, my entire share goes to you. A thousand gold rings a week,” Salaar said in a low voice, as though he could read his mind.

That’s more like it. Myss grunted, and his mood immediately improved again.

After that exchange, his heart sped up and slowed down by turns, tormenting him until a thin layer of sweat broke out across his skin.

The negotiation came to a pause, and Salaar started glancing at him from the corner of his eye again, as though thinking about something. Myss immediately turned his head and stared right back with all his might.

Salaar curled his lips. “What do you want for dinner?”

“As long as it’s not currants, anything,” Myss grumbled.

……

That evening, the group went once more to the Red Amber’s reception room.

Several days had passed, and the Red Amber had completely returned to normal. The gallery still hadn’t reopened, however. Planning for “Perfect Love” was apparently still underway.

It was Kalen’s first time coming in through the official entrance, and his eyes swept all around with evident curiosity. Whenever he saw any painting that was too revealing, he immediately averted his eyes uncomfortably. Tass, in contrast, was quite composed, despite having once been trapped in that cursed place.

Coincidentally, Professor Gentry also had two more people with him.

A man and a woman, both under thirty. Their appearances were ordinary, but their clothes were exceptionally tasteful.

Even though they wore plain travel attire designed for exploration, the fabric still practically smelled of gold rings, far finer than anything Truman had ever worn.

At the moment, they stood beside Professor Gentry in relatively relaxed postures.

Myss had no interest in human scraps of cloth. What interested him were their Magibase—

The young woman’s Magibase was a glossy-furred tiger, its massive tiger eyes sweeping across the room.
The young man’s Magibase, meanwhile, was a lion, currently sitting silently in a corner.

Both Magibases were huge, and both were rare beasts of prey. In sheer visual presence, they lost nothing to the elephant in the room.

It seemed this expedition wouldn’t be too boring after all. Myss found himself narrowing his eyes.

“These two are my students, and also members of the Ruins Preservation Association.”

Professor Gentry’s gaze flicked quickly over Kalen and Tass, his smile as warm as ever.

“Let me introduce them. This lady is Beverly Ittinger, who specializes in explosive magic and appraisal magic.”

Beverly had a head of especially fluffy short golden hair, which actually made her look even more lion-like. Her face was round, and she wore a cautious expression that was almost evaluative, though there was little malice in her features.

She folded her arms and gave the group a quick once-over, her gaze lingering slightly on Salaar’s blue eyes and Myss’s face.

“Such young assistants,” she said with a friendly smile. “My, there’s even a Dragon Fae. This trip is bound to be lively.”

“And this gentleman is Asp Dunhill, who specializes in natural growth magic and restoration magic.”

Then she introduced the other assistant for her teacher. “He’s a very reliable logistics specialist. He just doesn’t like talking to people much.”

Asp was tall and thin, with chestnut hair, brown eyes, and sallow skin, as if a layer of dust covered him. He nodded vaguely, never once making eye contact with them.

Myss quietly split off a thread of magic and poked the lion in the corner. The lion shifted its sturdy body and rumbled in confusion.

Asp lifted his head blankly and looked around, and only then did Myss get a clear look at his face—a completely unremarkable long face. Yet another uninteresting human.

“You really frightened us by suddenly postponing the departure.” Having finished the introductions, Beverly said, turning to the professor, her concern utterly genuine. “A whole month! I thought you’d been injured… If I’d known Semper was such a hassle, we would have come with you.”

“Those damned investigators just kept saying ‘people in Semper like following trends, you’re being overly suspicious.’ I knew something was wrong here. I’m going to write a complaint the moment I get back—”

She rattled on without pause. If one ignored the actual content of her words, her tone was almost aggressive.

“It was only one month, not winter yet,” Asp muttered toward the floor, sneaking a glance at them before jerking his eyes away as though burned.

“If it’s before winter, it’s manageable. Some pests can be avoided. But humidity will matter. The magic artifacts will need recalibrating, Professor…”

“Ah, sorry, sorry.” Professor Gentry scratched his head and gave a chuckle. “I didn’t expect to be delayed this long. I was only planning to stop by and take a look on the way.”

“But I did gain something from it. These young people are very capable.”

“Yes, I believe you. You wouldn’t casually drag some youngsters off to their deaths,” Beverly sighed.

Asp snorted out a laugh, then immediately stiffened his face as though it hadn’t been him.

Professor Gentry: “…”

Professor Gentry sighed. “…In any case, that’s the current composition of my team.”

Salaar let out a dry laugh. “Would you mind elaborating on the ‘drag off to their deaths’ part?”

“Of course. Since you are joining the team, I have to be clear.”

Professor Gentry’s expression turned serious, and his tone sounded just like a real professor’s.

“We are preparing to explore an uncharted underground ruin. It isn’t far from Semper, and it is at least the size of a small city. For the moment, we’re calling it the ‘Rabbit Hole.’”

“We don’t know what is inside. Every previous exploration team that entered vanished without return. That includes the team of my finest student, Roman Gerard.”

At the mention of that name, Beverly pursed her lips, while Asp’s eyes welled up with tears and his head dipped again.

“The place is radiating extremely abnormal magical fluctuations. Even a world-class explorer like Roman Gerard failed there—Roman’s status crystal has already shattered. We intend to bring back his body, and while we’re at it, determine what exactly is going on in the Rabbit Hole.”

“Even I may end up trapped underground. I cannot guarantee everyone’s safety, so please think carefully.”

For that last sentence, Professor Gentry was looking specifically at Father Kalen and Tass.

Salaar understood.

Professor Gentry was one of the seven Kingdom Archmages. His finest student undoubtedly deserved the title of “world-class,” whether in scholarship or magical prowess.

If the Rabbit Hole had swallowed someone of that caliber, and Gentry still wanted to hire them… Could there be an Abnormal Fruit underground too?

But Father Kalen’s divination had said there should be no ominous presence of that level nearby.

Salaar couldn’t quite make sense of it.

“What era is the ruin from?” he asked, falling back on objective facts first.

Beverly answered before anyone else could. “The tail end of the Night Scourge!”

Her rapid-fire speech started up again.

“Underground ruins from the Night Scourge era are all enormous. There’s still a complete underground city beneath the capital from that period. The named underground cities have mostly already been explored. It’s the smaller underground cities like this one that are more dangerous.”

“Most underground ruins from the last three hundred years are just tombs. They’re nowhere near this complicated…”

Salaar: “…”

He lowered his gaze, uncharacteristically avoiding eye contact with Myss.

Myss gave his head a sharp twist and stared back at him on his own initiative.

The tail end of the Night Scourge—wasn’t that exactly the era Salaar had been born in?

As the creator of the Night Scourge, the feeling was rather strange. Myss suddenly wanted to go see that underground city—not because he cared about the human world, but because he wanted to know what kind of environment could produce a human as infuriating as Salaar.

“I don’t care either way.” Myss was the first to raise his hand and raise his voice.

Only then did Salaar finally look at him again, and nothing in that glance betrayed what he felt.

Father Kalen, clearly, also didn’t care very much. He signed the contract readily enough, his face showing not the slightest fear. It was obvious that he trusted the Shadow Relic’s divination result completely.

Tass, however, hesitated and flew around the contract several times. He looked several times at Archmage Gentry, then stole a few glances at Myss. After dragging things out for a full five minutes, he finally signed his name.

“All four of you are coming? What remarkable courage.”

Professor Gentry gathered up the contracts and tapped their edges neatly against the table.

“In that case, we leave tomorrow at seven in the morning. Food and necessities will be prepared on our side. If any of you don’t feel at ease, you may bring extra supplies yourselves.”

“Understood.”

At last, Salaar spoke again.

That night, Tass packed up every gemstone he could find in the house as all of his luggage. As long as he had gemstones, he could heal his wounds, replenish his strength, and survive a very long time without food or drink.

Meanwhile, Father Kalen still ran outside to help Cinnamon search for its owner. He said he would ask Miss Claws to keep an eye on the house and also look after Pinecone the puppy.

While those two were busting about with frenetic energy, Myss and Salaar, by contrast, seemed utterly idle. The two of them hadn’t slept well the previous night, so this time they returned to the bedroom early, intending to conserve their energy.

Myss had the vague feeling that Salaar’s mood was somewhat low, even though outwardly Salaar looked exactly the same as usual.

It was hard to describe. Perhaps he had stared at Salaar for too long, long enough for the shape of the man to have imprinted itself into his subconscious.

“You should be happy instead,” Lord Archdemon declared forcefully. “This is your perfect chance to present to me the ‘evidence of your crimes.’”

Salaar looked at him silently for a while. “And then what? Ask you why you breathe? Seriously, would you care?”

“No.”

“So why would you think I was planning to show you something like that?”

Myss’s eyes shifted aside, his gaze slipping away.

“I already told you to forget the nonsense from those bards,” Salaar said, refusing to let him off the hook. “Maybe their Saint Salaar would desperately try to move you… Listen. I’m not going to let you use me to understand the human world. I know better than anyone that you have no interest in it.”

If one didn’t understand love and happiness, naturally one would not understand hate and pain either. From the beginning, he had never harbored any hope for Myss.

“Then why do you think I have no interest in the human world?” Sitting cross-legged on the bed, Myss threw the question back in an exaggerated tone. “‘I know better than anyone’… Tch. You don’t know that at all.”

Salaar had been holding a cup while pouring water. At those words, his hand froze, and he stared straight at Myss.

That face of inhuman beauty was steeped in firelight, the pomegranate-red eyes bright and clear. Myss wasn’t joking. More accurately, Myss would never joke with him like this.

Why? What had touched Myss? Salaar’s thoughts nearly turned chaotic.

Surely it wasn’t about Antis and Iver. Could Professor Gentry have done something? Could Myss have grown the slightest shred of humanity? …Or was Myss trying to understand the destructive power of the Night Scourge so he could use it later as a psychological weapon?

“I have to correct your ridiculous misunderstanding.”

Myss hugged a blanket and made his declaration with solemn grandeur.

“It’s true that I have absolutely no intention of ‘using you to understand the human world.’ What is the human world supposed to matter?”

“…But I would want to use the human world to understand you.”

Then he tipped up his chin and struck the pose of a victor. “In the end, I will take the initiative to understand the human world, you arrogant bastard.”

Thunk.

Salaar’s hand jerked, knocking over the glass water jug on the bedside table. Water instantly soaked into the carpet.

The carpet was dark-colored. The soaked patch turned nearly black, like a pool of blood.

Good. Salaar’s gaze had returned to him again. Myss was thoroughly satisfied.

That was more like it. When Salaar’s gaze nailed itself to him, Myss felt an odd sense of security, as if he had grabbed hold of a leash tied to his enemy, as though he had slipped an invisible collar around his enemy’s neck.

“…Well. That certainly is news.”

After a long while, Salaar finally spoke again.

“Mm.” Myss was satisfied. He threw back the blanket and patted the mattress. “I want to sleep. Hurry up and lie down.”

Salaar: “…”

Salaar drained the rest of the water in the cup and let out a long breath.

“Fine,” he muttered, and threw himself violently onto the mattress.

He moved too hard, and the mattress was too soft. Myss almost bounced off the bed. By the time the Archdemon scrambled up in anger, Salaar was already asleep.

“Forget it,” Myss muttered too.

In any case, over the next few weeks they wouldn’t be sleeping on a mattress this soft.

---

The author has something to say:
Salaar: (stares intently)

Myss: (stares intently)

Myss: If I don’t look at him, how will I know he’s looking at me? Keep staring!

And so the staring contest continues— [dog holding rose]

---

<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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

---

Chapter 54: No Visitors Allowed

Salaar said nothing, and he didn’t turn around.

Myss reached out and felt around again, only to discover that the muscles elsewhere on Salaar’s body had gone taut too, and a thin layer of sweat had broken out over his skin.

Huh?

At once, Myss threw sleep to the winds, and even Fork woke up. After all this time, he had finally found Salaar’s weak point.

More than three hundred years of darkness, loneliness, suffering, injuries, and sickness had failed to wipe the smile from this man’s face. Faced with the Fallen Child’s maternal summons and Perfected Creation’s mental scourging, Salaar had handled it all with ease.

And now, great and formidable Salaar, for the second time, was frozen solid like stone beneath his touch.

He kissed Salaar on the forehead, and Salaar had stood rooted in place. He had touched Salaar a few times by accident, and Salaar had lost composure again.

The answer was blindingly obvious. A few days ago, he had stirred Salaar with a kiss. And tonight…

“You dreamed about your old lover,” Myss declared with utter certainty.

Salaar was undoubtedly pining for a love that had been defiled by his enemies. With so many tawdry legends swirling around this man, surely at least one of them had to be true.

Salaar shook Myss off him and swiftly wrapped himself up in the blanket like a cocoon. When he spoke again, he directly changed the subject. “Where did you even learn all this nonsense?”

Salaar hadn’t drunk any water, so his voice was still a little hoarse. His tone, meanwhile, sounded helpless.

“My body’s brain may be dim-witted, but it still has eyes.” Myss snorted, crawling closer to the Salaar cocoon. “I still know the most basic things.”

This body, being a “premium commodity,” had been preserved very well. Ordinary slaves had neither been that lucky nor that constrained. Myss remembered seeing slaves amuse themselves or getting intimate with each other.

Further back, there had been plenty of couples in Salaar’s army too. There hadn’t been much entertainment in the darkness, and they often did that sort of thing.

It was just that, back then, Myss hadn’t understood what those humans were doing all piled together. He had been too busy looking down at Salaar.

Even now, Myss still felt nothing about it, just as humans wouldn’t find the sight of flies mating particularly interesting.

…But he was genuinely, exceptionally, incredibly curious about Salaar’s reaction.

Because Salaar absolutely wasn’t the kind of person to wallow in lust. Myss was entirely confident of that.

During those three hundred years, Salaar had practically been an iron-blooded administrator. He had lived apart from the others and never gotten particularly close to his companions. A few people had once gotten bold enough to invite Salaar to “have some fun” together—only to be met with Salaar’s fists.

The times Salaar had been physically closest to his companions were when he buried their corpses.

And after he had fallen alone into the darkness, he hadn’t even entertained himself that way. All he ever did was harass Myss’s tentacles.

For someone like that to actually have desire now—this was an unprecedented discovery.

Seeing that Salaar had bundled himself into a ball, Myss’s eyes shifted, and he picked up the water jug from the bedside table.

“Didn’t you want water? Why aren’t you drinking anymore?” He stared brightly at Salaar. “Want me to feed you?”

Salaar glanced at him, then slowly tucked his head into the blanket too. He didn’t run, but clearly, he wasn’t planning to, well, face this situation with any sort of candor.

Myss burst into delighted laughter.

He couldn’t help but think of the shabby little shack Salaar had built inside the seal. At their core, they were no different. Just some soft shell serving no purpose other than self-deception.

“Good morning?” He tapped on the blanket bundle, imitating Salaar’s mocking tone. “Anybody home?”

“There are matters at home. No visitors allowed,” Salaar replied in a muffled voice.

Ah, yes. This was the feeling. Revenge tasted sweet. Myss felt a sense of pure, unadulterated satisfaction wash over him.

He didn’t even bother using magic. He deliberately pawed at the blanket-wrapped hero with his bare hands. Feeling the other man squirm in embarrassment improved his mood immensely, and suddenly inspiration struck—

It wasn’t that he hated being around Salaar. He just hated being on the losing side in front of his archenemy.

Thinking about it carefully, if the contents of “Sweet Trap” hadn’t been “the noble hero toys with the Chaos Witch,” but instead “the Chaos Archdemon toys with the noble hero,” he definitely wouldn’t have hated that book the way he did now.

Salaar was always composed. He had been like that when reading “Sweet Trap”, and he was still like that when dealing with him. Myss only wanted to smash that infuriating calm expression of his.

…If he could make Salaar this uncomfortable, then he was very willing to stick even closer.

“So you’re planning to suffocate yourself to death, huh? According to the contract, I’m here to save you. Hurry up, let me see your face!”

Like he had discovered a whole new continent, Myss excitedly patted the blanket lump. “Or I could just beat you through the blanket and help you get back to normal?”

“No visitors allowed!” Knife coiled on the highest bulge of the blanket and solemnly repeated Salaar’s words.

Salaar stayed curled up inside and refused to make a sound.

Myss didn’t care. He leaned closer, his nose almost pressing against the blanket. “But without my cushion, I can’t slee—wahhhh!”

The moment Myss leaned in, Salaar suddenly moved.

Taking advantage of his larger build, he yanked up the blanket and cast it over Myss like a net. Then he swiftly gathered the four corners together, and Knife cooperatively tied them up—

The whole thing took barely two seconds. The Archdemon had been brutally bagged up and turned into a wriggling sack on the bed.

Myss thrashed a few times before realizing he could still use magic. With a sharp rip, he clawed a huge hole in the thick blanket.

Myss angrily stuck his head out, only to find that Salaar had already slipped into the bathroom.

“You actually ran away!” Myss shouted in disbelief.

Damn it, there were even layers of golden defensive barriers stacked at the bathroom door. When they had fought in the seal, Salaar’s movements had never been this fast.

“This is a strategic withdrawal following a victory!” Salaar shouted back from inside.

His shout came together with the deliberately amplified volume of the bath music.

Pouting indignantly, Myss drained the glass of water sitting on the beside table; he gave his mouth a fierce wipe, not leaving Salaar a single drop.

By the time Salaar emerged from the bathroom, dawn had broken.

Salaar had turned back into that composed, unruffled Salaar again, looking as if nothing had happened the night before. Myss clicked his tongue in regret.

Still, whatever. Salaar hadn’t suggested sleeping separately. He had already found Salaar’s weakness. There was plenty of time ahead.

……

But Myss hadn’t expected the day to become even more unpleasant. The moment he entered the Red Amber, he got handed a notice regarding compensation claims.

With testimony from the fourth-floor guards, Myss had been identified as the primary culprit who had “let the cats inside,” and he was required to compensate the Red Amber for the related losses.

The promised gold-ring payment was gone, and most of the two thousand gold rings they had already received were reclaimed. After everything Salaar and Myss had gone through, they were left with only five hundred gold rings.

That wasn’t exactly a small amount but compared to the huge sum they had had before, the terrible gap made the loss sting.

Salaar calmly contacted Kalen to confirm that this wasn’t some kind of scam. Considering the extent of the damage at the Red Amber, it was actually a fairly reasonable sum for compensation.

“We clearly saved those humans, and they still dared demand money from us.” Myss ground his teeth in irritation.

Salaar: “Just think of it as us paying for the Abnormal Fruit here.”

Compared to the Abnormal Fruit, that money truly was no better than dirt. Myss made a sound of acknowledgment, and his mood slowly eased.

At the very least, by the time they entered the reception room, Myss’s face didn’t look quite so foul anymore.

The Kingdom Archmage, Professor Gentry, known as “The Colossal Elephant”, was sitting upright in an armchair, waiting for them.

Professor Gentry had a head of slightly curly white hair and a particularly warm, approachable face, with a somewhat large nose. He was said to be over seventy, yet his skin bore very few wrinkles, his figure was far from gaunt, and he looked physically no older than forty.

Myss wasn’t particularly surprised. He had known long ago that humans with strong magic tended to live longer. The strongest people in Salaar’s army had all lived past one hundred and aged much more slowly than others.

Salaar himself had lived for more than three hundred years, a feat truly earning him the title of “monster.”

“I’m very glad to meet the two of you. My apologies for summoning you so suddenly.”

Professor Gentry’s voice was warm and full. He stood up to greet them, utterly free of pretension.

“You’re too kind.” Salaar immediately slipped into social mode.

His tone was neither as aggravating as Young Master Karns’s nor as mature as Hero Salaar’s.

Myss knew very well that Salaar was on guard. If Gentry asked them about the Perfected Creation, then every answer Salaar gave would need to be flawless.

Professor Gentry watched those blue eyes of Salaar’s for a while.

Just when Myss thought he was about to ask about the “Divine Realm,” the Archmage instead veered off topic. “I would like to hire the two of you.”

Myss, Salaar: “?”

“I plan to take my students exploring underground ruins, and I happen to need two sharp-witted assistants.”

The old man smiled cheerfully at them with his light brown eyes. “It would last about four to six weeks. One thousand gold rings per person per week, and I would assume responsibility for all losses that might occur.”

“Why us?” After a moment’s thought, Salaar asked very directly.

“Why you?” Professor Gentry’s smile widened even further. “Because I have a fondness for handsome young men. And I heard that the two of you have recently been targeted by some unsavory characters, making it inconvenient for you to walk around big cities. Earning a bit more money is a good thing, wouldn’t you say?”

His gaze swept over Salaar and Myss again and again. Myss suddenly realized that not once had he called Salaar “Karns.”

“Thank you for your kindness, but unfortunately, we already have plans for the near future.”

Salaar refused at once. One thousand gold rings a week—only a fool would think that was the wage of a “normal assistant.”

A Kingdom Archmage making such a crude proposal. Since Professor Gentry was so obviously probing them, Salaar had no intention of stepping into the trap.

“What a pity. In that case, I can only report my findings honestly to the Aufon Royal Family.”

Professor Gentry sighed. “Honestly, it’s rather embarrassing. The Red Amber kept me trapped for almost a month. I’ve been living on the fourth floor, and my joints are practically rusting… The way you two broke through left quite an impression on me.”

Myss’s brows twitched, instantly on guard. “I didn’t detect any scrying magic.”

“That’s because I was looking with my own eyes.” Professor Gentry gave a little chuckle. “As everyone knows, I’m a nimble old fellow. Long-distance observation is basic fieldwork for an explorer.”

Myss: “…”

Salaar let out a sigh and sat down opposite Gentry.

He dropped that half-in, half-out attitude and cut straight to the point. “What exactly do you want?”

---

The author has something to say:

I just realized the two of them fit that whole “both my wet dream and my nightmare are you, huh” theme perfectly. [rainbow farts]

---

<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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

---

Chapter 53: A Shattered Dream

When the Red Amber employee found the two of them, Myss and Salaar were eating dinner alone.

Antis’s hired cook had reached the end of his contract and had gone off to work for the next household. While Tass was calming himself down, there were also all sorts of inheritance matters to deal with—

Antis had died suddenly without leaving a written will. Fortunately, a spoken will made in full possession of one’s senses would also leave magical traces behind. Tass had to get it notarized by an official before he could formally take over the Crosien family’s estate.

Father Kalen was planning to help the cat Cinnamon find its little owner, so he too would be acting alone for a while.

With no one left to provide meals, Myss simply went out with Salaar to look for food. Considering that “The End of the World” still had a bit of lingering influence, Salaar chose a small restaurant in the lower district.

Just a few days ago, they had still been enjoying the refined, delicious dishes of the Red Amber. Now all they had was bread soaking in pea soup, meat gravy mashed potatoes mixed with chopped onions, and red currants to cut the richness.

Myss ate with great relish. Salaar couldn’t help but pause with his fork and knife and watch for quite a while.

Myss was always like this. High-end cuisine was tasty, but commoner food was fine too. As long as it didn’t taste too terrible, Myss never cared. Just like he didn’t care whether he slept on some dusty broken wooden bed in an inn or on Red Amber’s luxurious bed.

…Just like Myss didn’t care about humans.

Scintilla’s longing for her mother, the love that blossomed between Antis and Iver—none of it moved him in the slightest.

Even after Salaar had pointed out the love between those two, Myss’s reaction had remained utterly indifferent. He hadn’t even been interested in figuring out how everyone else had seen it.

Salaar had assumed Myss held love in contempt. Yet when it came to Salaar himself, this guy had actually weaponized that very concept, something Salaar had completely failed to anticipate.

Looking at those lips opening and closing, Salaar once again found himself thinking of that kiss on the forehead.

He touched his forehead instinctively. It felt as though a butterfly had flown into his stomach, and half his appetite vanished on the spot. Myss looked as though he had practically forgotten about the whole thing already, while Salaar was still stuck in place going in circles over it, which made him profoundly irritated.

Salaar understood his own heart reasonably well. His hostility hadn’t diminished in the slightest. But at the time…

“You’re not eating that?”

Seeing that Salaar hadn’t touched his utensils for so long, Myss reached over to paw at the Hero’s red currants, every bit the robber in spirit.

He had figured that since they were the same color as raspberries, they couldn’t possibly taste that bad. That was why he had deliberately saved them for last, planning to eat them all in one satisfying go.

Salaar gave a glance, and Knife flicked out its tongue and blocked Myss’s hand.

Of course, the Archdemon only became bolder when thwarted.

Myss hissed in a breath, shot Salaar a quick glance, and revealed an expression of absolute determination. The next second, Fork sprang out like a coiled spring and wrapped itself around Knife.

Myss feigned a grab, but what actually flew out was a net of black magical threads, sweeping Salaar’s little bowl of currants right over to himself.

Triumphantly, Myss raised his hand and dumped that half bowl of red currants straight into his mouth, crunching down.

…And then tears came flooding out all at once.

Myss’s expression became extraordinarily complicated, a mixture of shock, fury, and bewilderment. His features scrunched into a knot, and his whole body curled in on itself, as if he were trying to wring the taste of the currants out of himself.

The sourness was sharp and vicious, stabbing through his nose and mouth until he couldn’t stop the tears.

“Currants are sour to begin with. A place like this certainly wouldn’t go out of its way to pick out the sweet ones.”

Salaar twisted the knife a little deeper. “I did try to stop you.”

“Mmph—mmph mmph mmph!”

Myss replied indistinctly, frantically wiping away his tears. His red eyes turned even redder.

Salaar sighed, fished a raspberry candy out of his pocket, and casually tossed it over. Myss threw it into his mouth wrapper and all, crunching it to pieces.

After barely recovering, Myss chugged the rest of the pea soup in one gulp, then furiously attacked the remaining currants with his fork and knife, as if he could scare them into becoming sweeter.

Perhaps because he felt it was too humiliating to cry in front of his mortal enemy, Myss pretended nothing had happened, sniffling at lightning speed as though he were trying to launch surprise attacks on the air itself.

Salaar watched him with a half-smile, his gaze absolutely fixed on him, determined to stare him to death.

…It was the Red Amber employee who broke the bizarre atmosphere.

“A Kingdom Archmage wants to see us?” Salaar froze for a moment.

Of course, Kendrick Karns’s memories contained the concept of “Kingdom Archmage”. Usually shortened to “Archmage,” they stood at the pinnacle of all mages, strategic assets on the national level.

If his memory served him correctly, across all the countries currently in existence, there were only seven Kingdom Archmages in the world.

Under normal circumstances, Archmages pledged themselves to specific countries. Only the legendary mage Langhesia belonged to none, yet everyone still referred to him as a “Kingdom Archmage.”

Unless war on a massive scale broke out, royal families rarely asked Archmages to do much of anything. They mostly just did their utmost to keep them happy.

Those who liked power games could become great nobles with real authority. Those who liked religion could rise as high as Pope. Those who preferred study would either build their own towers or enter academic centers… Archmages varied wildly in temperament, and the factions they represented were equally diverse. They weren’t people one could deal with lightly.

And on top of that, the Divine Realm had barely been destroyed before an Archmage appeared out of nowhere demanding an audience with them. They had to be beyond cautious.

“Which one?” Salaar dropped the airy, dandified “Karns” persona.

“It is Professor Gentry, sir,” the Red Amber employee answered respectfully. “He has already been waiting in the reception room for quite some time. You—”

“My darling isn’t feeling very well. I have to take him to see a doctor.” Salaar decisively pointed at Myss, whose face was all scrunched up and still streaked with tears. “Please apologize to Mr. Gentry for me. We will absolutely pay him a visit first thing tomorrow morning.”

“But…”

Salaar said, “Don’t worry. If it’s the benevolent Professor Gentry, he won’t make things difficult for you.”

The Kingdom Archmage affiliated with Aufon, Gentry the “Colossal Elephant”.

His full name was Albert Gentry. His Magibase was a humungous elephant, and among the seven Archmages, he had the best temper.

Professor Gentry lived up to his name. He had no interest at all in court intrigue or religion, nor did he seclude himself entirely in research.

Instead, he taught history and archaeology at Aufon Royal University, and had founded an academic organization called the Society for Ruins Preservation. He lived by the principle of “half the year teaching, half the year adventuring,” so it was never strange to hear of him turning up somewhere unexpected.

The Aufon royal family, terrified that Professor Gentry might one day simply wander off to another country, had stuffed him with the title “Kingdom First-Class Investigator” and took care of all his expedition expenses.

The Archmage himself had responded quite cheerfully. Whenever trouble arose somewhere, he would proactively step in to help resolve it. His reputation was excellent.

Someone like that had to be approached with simple, straightforward courtesy. If they fawned too much, they would only irritate him.

…Besides, Kendrick Karns’s memories weren’t necessarily reliable.

Father Kalen had traveled far and wide, and the Dragon Fae Tass knew a great deal of noble secrets. Salaar decided to spend the night sorting through information first.

……

“If it’s Professor Gentry we’re talking about, it should be fine.”

Kalen and Tass had both given the same answer, which showed just how good this Archmage’s reputation truly was.

“Perhaps he noticed something. As far as I know, he’s also dealt with disasters caused by Abnormal Fruit before.”

While preparing fish paste meatballs for the cats, Father Kalen explained things to Myss and Salaar. “This time, if he’s appeared in Semper, it’s very likely because he’s investigating the anomaly caused by the Perfected Creation.”

“The anomaly in Semper can be talked up or down, but since it’s a city of art, the capital definitely must have noticed something was wrong.”

Myss drank his sweet fizzy jam soda. “So we solved the problem, and only then did he show up?”

Father Kalen looked at the two of them with a complicated expression. “Under normal circumstances, humans can’t beat a ‘god,’ even one that isn’t very smart.”

Myss considered this for a moment and gave a fair little hum.

Even with him and Salaar joining forces, the Perfected Creation had been difficult to deal with. If the two of them hadn’t come up with a desperate inspiration and used Iver’s final painting to deal with Antis’s heart, Myss might have had to lose control once again.

“So that means the Archmages know Abnormal Fruit exists?” Salaar’s attention, however, was on something else.

“They probably know a little, but there’s no unified view.” Father Kalen sighed. “It’s understandable. Abnormal Fruits have only appeared in recent years. Their origin is unknown, and their power is too great. On every level, they’re unsuitable for public discussion.”

As he finished speaking, he looked at Salaar with visible hesitation.

“Do you have any advice for tomorrow’s meeting, Father?” Salaar asked knowingly.

“Since Professor Gentry specifically named the two of you, it’s best not to pretend to know nothing. If possible, don’t fully expose your abilities, either. Professor Gentry will definitely report this matter upward.”

Father Kalen carefully chose his words. “The two of you are handling the Abnormal Fruit with me, and you can always leave if you change your mind. But if the Aufon royal family learns about you two…”

“Thank you for the advice.” Salaar smiled.

He hadn’t intended to reveal his full strength anyway, though his reason was a little more practical. He happened to be carrying a lively Chaos Archdemon on him.

At the moment, said Archdemon had drunk his fill of fizzy soda and was beginning to nod off, clearly about to fall asleep. Judging from that, tomorrow’s conversation would probably have to be handled by Salaar alone.

Yes. Even for a famous Kingdom Archmage, Myss had no interest at all.

“Brush your teeth before bed,” Salaar said, patting Myss awake.

“I have… annihilation magic…” Myss said, giving an enormous yawn as he drifted half-asleep.

Salaar said, “If you accidentally annihilate yourself into a toothless old man, I’m not healing you.”

Myss glared at him resentfully, then staggered off to brush his teeth before crawling back into bed, muttering all the while.

From those discontented mutters, Salaar caught the smell of mint toothpaste… Whether Myss had chosen it unconsciously or whether it was simply coincidence, who knew.

That night, Salaar suffered a rare bout of insomnia.

As usual, Myss was sprawled across Salaar’s chest, body curled in comfort, soft cheek pressed against his heart. Myss smacked his lips contentedly in his sleep. His breath smelled faintly of mint, and his exhalations were as warm as his skin.

Salaar felt the places brushed by that breath grow itchy, with a prickling sort of strange sensation.

…And again, he couldn’t help looking at Myss’s lips.

That damn kiss on the forehead surfaced once more in his mind. It was like one of those mortifying memories that lodged in the heart and refused to go away, popping up uninvited the moment his guard slipped.

“Don’t think about it,” Knife whispered at his ear. “The more you think about it, the less you’ll forget it.”

“Even if I don’t think about it, I won’t forget. You know I have a good memory,” Salaar whispered back, trying to keep the rise and fall of his chest gentle.

“What’s the point of dwelling on such things? The Night Scourge must be brought to an end,” Knife said earnestly.

“I know.” Salaar cut him off. “I’m not thinking about Myss. I just can’t make sense of my own emotions.”

Knife thought about it for a while with its tiny snake brain. “It must be this young body affecting you. That’s normal. When your last body was young, your situation was actually unusual…”

It didn’t continue.

Perhaps, Salaar thought.

For the previous three hundred years, he had scarcely had any desires at all. His body had merely been one tool among many for gripping a weapon.

Not even physical desires of that sort. He could eat salted grilled mushrooms for three hundred years and not think it was especially painful, and interacting with people… also…

He drifted into sleep amid exhaustion and drowsiness.

That night, Salaar’s dreams were a tangled mess, as if his brain had come down with a fever.

He dreamed of the darkness from long ago.

He had chosen an empty house as his “home.”

Inside it there was only a bed made of discarded clothes, a few books worn thin from rereading, and an alchemical lamp for light. The lamp gave off a faint warm glow, trying to imitate the sun.

Unfortunately, it had been used too long, and its radiance couldn’t even compare with moonlight. It could barely illuminate the pages of a book.

Outside the house, there was only endless, freezing darkness.

Inside the seal, only he remained, together with the being known as the Chaos Archdemon. Nearby there were no wandering beasts or monsters, not even a single insect.

In that darkness there was only the Archdemon’s ceaseless, regular heartbeat, along with the large and small tentacles coiling across the ground.

Yet even so, Salaar had carved a window into the wall.

Other than darkness and the sound of that heartbeat, the window could bring him nothing. Still, he made it.

It was the first time he hadn’t quite understood his own emotions. Back then, however, he hadn’t thought too deeply about it.

At the time, Salaar rummaged through a pile of junk and found a chipped bowl and a thin length of enchanted cord. By the window, he kidnapped two tiny tentacles.

He tied them together into the shape of a blade of grass, fixed them into the bowl, and pretended they were a potted plant.

The tiny tentacles wriggled in displeasure, straining toward the outside of the window. At the time, Salaar had been convinced that was simply instinctive resistance.

“From now on, you’re my potted plant.”

Salaar put the “plant” on the windowsill and picked up an empty cup, pretending to water it.

The tentacle bundle shrank into a knot, looking like two tiny fists.

At the time, he had also thought that was some sort of avoidance instinct. Looking back now, it was probably Myss secretly swearing at him.

He rubbed the little knot of tentacles with his fingertips. They felt soft, a little resilient, not especially wet—almost like an animal’s paw pads.

The tentacles that fought him outside were different. They were thick and tall, and a brush from them could scrape a bloody strip of skin right off him.

“Today I went to fight your true body again,” he told the potted plant. “My leg got hurt. It hurt a lot.”

His leg had already healed, but he wanted to say it anyway.

The tentacle knot didn’t untie itself. Instead, it pattered against the rim of the bowl, almost in rhythm with the great being’s heartbeat outside. In that tomb-like place, it gave off a life all its own.

“The truth is, I know I’m not Its opponent. But I have to keep fighting. I have to understand everything about It…”

Salaar sighed and leaned against the windowsill. His back was to the weak light, and he looked out at the endless blackness beyond the window.

“…Tell me, does It hurt that much too?”

After saying it aloud, he laughed at himself.

“No, probably not.”

Salaar answered himself loudly, waving his fists to imitate the motions of the two tentacle bundles.

“Pain is a warning. It tells the body to avoid danger. I know there’s nothing in this world that can threaten It.”

“I’ve never even disturbed Its heartbeat. Not once. Sometimes I wonder whether Its gaze is merely my illusion… What do you think?”

Tap.

Salaar had leaned too close, and one of the tentacle bundles smacked him on the tip of his nose. It was so small that it hit with less force than a scrap of paper.

“But when I die, It’ll definitely notice the difference.” 

Salaar pinched the wriggling bundle and rubbed it hard a couple of times. “Plants know when the sky clears up. It will also know when the seal breaks.”

“Tell me, by the time my mission ends… will It know? …Will It know I was ever here?”

The next moment, all the darkness shattered.

The barren black became green grass. The junk pile turned into thick clusters of flowers.

Under brilliant sunlight, Myss came rushing at Salaar. He rose hard onto his toes and pressed both hands down firmly on Salaar’s shoulders, branding a kiss onto the center of his brow.

Myss’s movements were too rushed, and his hair brushed across Salaar’s skin, tickling him.

“I’ll stain your love!”

After the kiss, Myss sprang lightly back, but his eyes remained locked tightly on him—like he meant to look all the way to the end of the world, as though in this full, vibrant world, only Salaar existed.

Myss’s heart was beating fast, far faster than usual, likely out of excitement or nervousness.

The place between Salaar’s brows where he had been kissed felt as though someone had pressed a branding iron to it, boiling his brain through the skull.

…Salaar jolted awake from the dream.

His brain felt as though it were boiling again, stirring tightness into his chest and setting his throat burning with thirst.

Instinctively he sat up and reached for the water jug at the bedside. That movement woke Myss as well. Myss opened his eyes and looked at him with annoyance.

That same direct gaze again, stripping away everything else.

“I’m a little thirsty,” Salaar said, though in truth he wasn’t sure why he felt the need to explain.

Myss gave a sleepy hum. “Hurry up.”

He shifted his position while he spoke, trying not to let the warmth escape from beneath the blankets, and his thigh brushed against Salaar without meaning to—

“?”

Myss stopped moving and touched Salaar’s lower abdomen. “What’s going on with you?”

…His cushion had changed shape, becoming a bit… lumpy.

Myss understood that humans could have this sort of special physical reaction. Young men even had it every morning.

Myss himself, however, had no similar urges. His true body lacked any reproductive instinct, and this fleshly vessel obediently remained only a meat tube, never causing him trouble.

Salaar had never shown such a reaction either. Myss had always firmly believed that either his mind had aged too much or his body was simply defective, that in short, something was wrong with him.

For all that he thought so in private, the Archdemon had never actually used the issue to attack his mortal enemy.

Just as he himself wasn’t bothered by being cursed as a “male whore,” the Great Hero wouldn’t have cared about such mockery either. Myss had even seen Salaar old enough to look like rotten wood, so what was there left to say?

Seeing Salaar’s hand freeze halfway to the water jug, Myss blinked drowsily and decided to bring this conversation to a close as quickly as possible.

“I don’t mean anything by it. You’re poking me,” he said with near sincerity.

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The author has something to say:

Not having instincts isn’t a good thing either, Lord Archdemon. [dog-face emoji]

At least Mr. Hero still has room to argue. When it comes to you, there’s not even an excuse left. [doge with rose]

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