Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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

---

Chapter 133: Divine Revelation?

Perhaps the rat’s brain was affecting him, because the Dragon Fae’s head buzzed for a while. The more he thought about it, the more convinced he became that his theory might be plausible.

Admittedly, physical pregnancy would provide a better reference than mental pregnancy. But physical pregnancy required an emotional foundation and enough time. A single night was clearly insufficient.

That left only one possibility: “mental pregnancy.”

The consciousnesses of two people could be drawn into a dream realm, where time could be stretched out for years.

Within the dream, they would possess bodies modeled after reality. As long as the one behind it had enough magic and made the dream sufficiently realistic, it could reproduce the process of a real pregnancy with a high degree of accuracy.

That had to be it. Given Myss and Salaar’s personalities, there was no chance they had simply “fallen asleep the moment they entered.”

But if they could never conceive, wouldn’t they be trapped in the dream forever, never able to awaken?

Even setting that aside, who knew how quickly time flowed inside the dream? If their minds spent tens of thousands of years there, would they still be sane when they finally woke?

He had to find a way to warn them.

The Dragon Fae anxiously twitched his whiskers.

Kalen couldn’t use magic, and Tass himself was not skilled in mental magic. There was also an unknown and immensely powerful presence inside the room, one very likely connected to the Blind God. They had to think of something quickly.

He decisively turned around and scurried away along the wall.

Ten minutes later.

“What?”

After listening to Tass’s explanation, which was heavily interspersed with squeaks, Father Kalen looked utterly bewildered.

The possibility that the sacrifices were pulled into a dream world on the night of prayer was still within Kalen’s understanding. Hermit had once told him that every religion was fascinated with the spiritual realm to varying degrees.

But the theory that they would be unable to escape unless someone became pregnant in the dream was so shocking that his thoughts stopped entirely for five full seconds.

“…Are you certain the unknown being intends to, uh, trap people in a dream and make them have a child?” Kalen asked, struggling to process the information.

“That thing is terrifyingly powerful. It might even be the Blind God itself. I’m telling you, I know that kind of atmosphere too well. It definitely wants to be born, using Myss and Salaar’s power to do it.”

Tass rubbed his whiskers anxiously.

“Of course, the pregnancy and childbirth part is only my guess. Do you have a more reasonable explanation? Like those two simply being tired?”

Kalen made several awkward sounds. “Perhaps It only wants to admire the love between the sacrifices…”

Tass raised his black, bead-like rat eyes.

His left eye said, Are you serious?

His right eye said, How old are you?

His pupils were practically turning into question marks.

“…There’s no point in guessing here. You’re right. Our immediate priority is contacting Salaar and Myss,” Father Kalen continued. “How good is your mental magic?”

Tass shook his head. “That stuff is only popular with clergy and deranged criminals. Ordinary mages rarely use it.”

Kalen said, “There probably isn’t enough time to contact Archmage Gentry, and finding a criminal of that level is even less realistic. Clergy… clergy…”

The two suddenly looked at each other.

Not long ago, they had interacted with a young priest.

Since that little priest had been allowed to join the procession welcoming the sacrifices, he had to possess considerable talent.

Even if his magic wasn’t yet practiced, they could exploit it. As a magical creature, Tass might not be skilled in mental magic, but he was very good at hiding inside other spells and smuggling himself along.

Kalen immediately set off and returned to the room of the priest named Egan. The Dragon Fae expertly squeezed through the gap beneath the door and discovered Egan sleeping peacefully in the darkness. The boy faced the wall, sleeping soundly.

After confirming that everything was normal, Kalen concealed himself again and crept back inside. He placed a hand over his chest and spent more than a dozen seconds offering a penitent prayer. Then he took out a fire-starting magical tool and relit the extinguished candle.

Kalen cleared his throat and spoke in an ethereal voice. “Good child, awaken…”

Between the light and the voice, Egan woke almost immediately. He rubbed his eyes and looked at the candle in surprise.

“My God?” the boy murmured, his eyes filled with delight and devotion.

Father Kalen had never been so grateful that the Lord of Shadows had granted him the power of concealment. At that moment, not even Tass standing at his feet could see how red his face had become from embarrassment.

“I need you to enter the sacrifices’ dream.”

Kalen tried to sound as gentle as possible. His hand returned to his chest as he apologized frantically in his heart. Egan lowered his head, his face briefly sinking into shadow. A few seconds of silence felt as long as several years.

Kalen’s heart nearly leapt from his throat. What if Egan hadn’t learned mental magic yet? What if this request was forbidden? Worst of all, what if he told the other priests and caused a disturbance?

Fortunately, after the brief silence, Egan spoke somewhat shyly. “Of course I am willing to obey Your will, my God. But my abilities are limited. I don’t know whether I can satisfy You…”

“That’s no concern.”

Only then did Kalen remember how to breathe. He nearly blew out the candle in front of him.

He had intended to add something like, “Don’t tell anyone,” but Tass interrupted by biting him.

“Don’t,” Tass whispered. “The more you say, the more mistakes you’ll make. Let it happen naturally.”

Meanwhile, Egan nodded solemnly. He put on his shoes and left the room.

He paused briefly before the barred gate and placed one hand against the layers of relief carvings. With a rough grinding sound, the gate opened again.

Kalen rejoiced inwardly and hurried after Egan through the gate and into the preparation room.

The preparation room door opened openly. Garnet spun around.

“Egan? Why are you here? You were clearly supposed to…”

“I received a divine revelation,” Egan said with absolute seriousness. “Our God wishes me to be here.”

Garnet frowned and was about to speak, but the High Priest stopped him.

“Egan is talented and still young. There’s no harm in allowing him to remain,” the old man said softly. “This is Lord Blind God’s sacred night. We must not quarrel before the god.”

“Understood.” Priest Garnet immediately lowered his head. 

The old man smiled at Egan. “As you can see, child, we are keeping vigil for Lord Blind God. You say you received divine revelation. What did Lord Blind God tell you?”

Father Kalen’s toes immediately tensed, while Tass’s tail stiffened beside his feet.

The next instant, Tass’s eyes rolled. He dashed outward and knocked over the silver candlestick in the corner.

The candlestick fell onto a tablecloth, instantly igniting a patch of flame. The High Priest had no time to continue questioning him. He murmured an incantation, and a sphere of water formed over the fire, extinguishing the flames before they could spread.

While both priests’ attention was diverted, Kalen strode to Egan’s side and gently pushed him toward the confession chamber.

Egan was indeed quick-witted.

Facing the tightly closed door, he silently recited something. A ripple of magic spread outward. Tass shuddered, immediately ran to the door, and worked to merge part of himself into the spell.

The little rat collapsed beside the door. At the same time, a wavering, illusion-like Tass flew through the door alongside the spell and vanished into thin air.

Tass had prepared himself to be severely injured. He didn’t know what conditions were like inside the dream. The magic there might be just as chaotic as it was outside.

Under such terrible circumstances, this “portion” of him might survive only a few seconds, or even less.

That was why he had separated out only part of his power. If that portion were completely destroyed, he would have to cling to life using what remained inside the mouse’s fleshy shell.

When the time came, Father Kalen could pay for the gemstones needed to heal him! Tass thought heroically.

……

Myss held a slice of bread toasted crisp without being burnt, dipped it into the soup, and happily brought it to his mouth.

Crunch!

The rich flavor instantly filled his mouth, and Myss gave a satisfied hum. Now he finally understood where Salaar had learned all these skills. As expected of a Hero who had inherited the memories of countless humans. He was extremely useful.

Sogné stared wide-eyed at Myss. He obediently took a sip of soup and then a bite of bread, apparently never having considered combining the food that way.

In a good mood, Myss looked at him twice and waved the slice of bread. “Want some?”

Sogné blinked in delight and opened his mouth wide. “Ahh…”

Myss: “…You can dip your own.”

Then he ate the rest of the soup-soaked bread in one bite, his cheeks stuffed full.

Sogné closed his mouth in disappointment, the corners drooping slightly.

“How cruel. As expected of you.” Salaar chuckled. He dipped his own bread into the soup and fed it to Sogné.

“Good that you understand,” Myss said indifferently.

Salaar seemed rather fond of this place, and Myss was no longer in a hurry to get out. Since they were on the same team, Salaar could handle the task of winning the child’s affection. Myss had no idea how to care for children anyway.

“Your mommy really is cruel.” Salaar fed Sogné another piece of bread, completely untroubled by the distorted face. A faint smile rested on his lips, while his peripheral gaze remained fixed on Myss.

“I originally thought Daddy and Mommy weren’t truly in love,” Sogné said while chewing. “But now it seems Daddy really likes Mommy.”

Myss gave a smug hum.

“That’s right.”

Salaar didn’t shy away from the admission. “Is it that obvious?”

Sogné nodded and sighed with his fragmented face. “I’m going to take an afternoon nap. Daddy and Mommy can keep eating.”

Then he gave Salaar a look that clearly meant good luck and trotted back to his room. Although the surroundings had changed somewhat, his bedroom door remained firmly shut.

The moment the nuisance left the table, Myss sprang up and attacked Sogné’s bread basket. “These are all mine now.”

“Eat as much as you like. I’ll bake more if it isn’t enough.”

“Hey, Salaar, aren’t you worried at all about… What the hell is that?!” Myss’s voice suddenly shot upward.

In his bowl of cream soup, the half-dead face of the Dragon Fae appeared in reflection.

“My… ss, Myss? Is that you? Can you… hear me?”

Tass’s face was mostly obscured by a floating mushroom. His voice was distorted, sometimes near and sometimes distant. Myss yanked Salaar in front of the bowl even faster than he had seized the bread basket.

“Speak quickly.”

“To make a long story short, you’re trapped in… a dream. Some powerful being, very likely the Blind God, wants to use your… power to be born.”

The Dragon Fae’s image grew more stable as he spoke rapidly. “Wait… why aren’t either of you surprised?”

Because Sogné had already told them about being “born.”

And given the strange environment, it was obviously either an illusion or a dream. Considering the unusual difference in time, a dream had already seemed more likely.

“Anything else?” Salaar urged. “You don’t look well, so stop worrying about us.”

The Dragon Fae nodded, causing ripples to spread across the soup’s surface.

“The magic outside is… complicated and chaotic, exactly like my birthplace.”

“I suspect they want Myss to become pregnant inside the dream, allowing that being to observe an infant forming from nothing and learn how to acquire a body.”

Salaar: “…”

Myss: “…………”

“In any case, your dream bodies are modeled after reality. The two of you can’t produce a child.” At last, the Dragon Fae saw the shocked expressions he had expected. “The Eye-Opening Ceremony has gone wrong. No one knows what will happen. You need to find a way to es… cape…”

The tiny face on the surface of the soup wavered and dissolved away.

Silence.

Silence spread through the dim room. Myss turned his head and stared soundlessly at Salaar.

After a long pause, Salaar said, “Uh, Tass has always had a vivid imagination. There may be another explanation.”

Myss continued staring at him without a word.

Salaar continued with some difficulty. “We should investigate based on objective evidence…”

“I think,” Myss said slowly, “the Dragon Fae’s theory makes some sense.”

“I have an idea. Should we try it?”

---

The author has something to say:

Egan (?): Hehe.

Egan (?): I wonder what expression Kalen will make when he learns the truth. [Let me see]

Our great genius Myss is about to have another brilliant idea! [okay]

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

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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

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Chapter 132: Its Motive?

Born?

Myss felt a subtle irritation.

If this child truly was an incarnation of the Blind God, then the Chaos Archdemon himself hadn’t even managed to be born successfully yet. How dare some mere Blind God try to get there first…

Wait.

The Blind God wasn’t a “god” forcibly transformed by V.O.R using an Abnormal Fruit. If Myss could observe how this being was born, perhaps he might learn something. With luck, this could even become a path to breaking through his seal.

Besides, Myss was confident that even if this so-called Blind God succeeded in being born, it would still be no match for his true body.

And from another perspective, this being had failed to be born so far, while all the previous sacrifices had departed intact. Whether it succeeded or failed, Myss stood to gain either way.

Most of the restlessness in his heart immediately vanished, and Sogné looked considerably more agreeable.

“That’s a worthwhile goal. Mommy and Daddy will support you with all our strength,” the Archdemon said solemnly, fishing for information. “Speaking of support, is there anything you need?”

Faced with Myss’s complete reversal in attitude, Sogné looked at him in confusion. “Mommy and Daddy… Mommy and Daddy only need to interact naturally. Our family just needs to live happily together.”

So he refused to say it directly. Myss clicked his tongue inwardly.

He dropped onto the living room sofa and looked out at the bright sunshine and endless grasslands. This place was the complete opposite of the interior of the seal. Here, there was only daylight that never ended.

Sogné shuffled over in small steps. “Mommy, can you hold me?”

For the sake of knowledge, Myss generously patted his lap. “Come here.”

The sofa was narrow. Sogné climbed onto it awkwardly, only for Myss to lift him horizontally in midair. The pose looked exactly like a fisherman proudly displaying a large fish he had just caught.

Sogné shifted uncomfortably, but Myss’s hands were as tight as iron clamps. In the end, he could only endure it.

“Is there anything else you want?” Myss asked kindly.

Sogné: “…No.”

His entire body was tense, bent stiffly at the waist, with a faint sheen of sweat forming on his forehead. 

Easy enough, Myss thought with approval. Even more pleasingly, the mushrooms he had used as toys earlier had automatically returned to their original places. The food here appeared inexhaustible.

Judging by the time, it should be morning now. He wondered what they would eat for lunch…

Creak.

After sleeping for only an hour, Salaar got up again. He pushed open the half-closed door and saw Myss holding the large Sogné fish in both hands.

Salaar: “…”

Salaar slowly withdrew into the bedroom, closed the door, then slowly opened it again.

Myss and Sogné turned to look at him together. One large and one small gray-white head gleamed beneath the sunlight.

“Daddy!” Sogné cried, sounding as though he were calling for rescue.

To Myss’s surprise, the usually smooth and adaptable Salaar didn’t respond immediately. He stood quietly with one hand on the doorframe, gazing at the sunlit living room.

“Was that little bit of sleep enough?” Myss wrinkled his nose at Salaar. “Be careful. If you don’t rest enough, your brain will turn stupid.”

“Daddy, um, hold me,” Sogné continued trying to ask for help.

Myss ignored him.

“If you’re not going to sleep, you might as well tell me what we’re eating for lunch. For the record, I want creamy mushroom soup with diced bacon. It’s a shame there aren’t any raspberries here… Salaar?”

Salaar was still standing by the door. Myss had a strange feeling. Salaar had never looked so… vulnerable before.

For one brief instant, Salaar appeared content and ordinary, much like those insignificant humans, yet somehow different. If Myss had to describe it, he looked like a pitiful fool immersed in a beautiful dream while knowing perfectly well that he was dreaming.

“Creamy mushroom soup with bread and a vegetable salad,” Salaar finally said after a long while. “What about you, child? What would you like?”

“Mushroom soup sounds good, but I want the bread to be crispier.” Sogné struggled to tilt his head. “Daddy, what’s wrong? You look a little sad.”

Salaar stepped forward and lifted Sogné out of Myss’s claws.

“Sad? Of course not. I only want to remember this moment as clearly as possible.”

Sogné said, “But we’re only discussing lunch. That’s ordinary.”

Salaar’s gaze passed over Sogné and fell on Myss, who was sprawled backward across the sofa. Myss looked much calmer than he had before Salaar went to sleep. His expression was completely relaxed, and he no longer seemed out of place within this space.

At that moment, Myss wore the hairstyle Salaar had arranged with his own hands, stretching beneath the brilliant golden sunlight. Healthy color showed beneath his skin, and soft humming sounds emerged from his throat.

Outside the window, the sky was a flawless blue. They both knew that night would never arrive here.

“…This isn’t ordinary, child.” Salaar’s voice sounded unusually old. “This is a scene I was destined never to touch in my entire life.”

“Discussing lunch?”

“No.” Salaar smiled at Sogné. “I mean ‘having a home’.”

Sogné looked at Salaar without fully understanding.

“But Daddy, you’re so young and handsome. Even if Mommy breaks… breaks up with you, you can still have a home, as long as you want one.”

At those words, Myss turned his face toward them and swept his gaze repeatedly over Salaar’s face. Salaar couldn’t help scratching his cheek.

“To do that, I would have to abandon my responsibilities, my wishes, and my true feelings.” Salaar patted Sogné’s head. “But if I did that, I would no longer be ‘me’.”

“Some desires are destined never to be fulfilled yet can never be put aside. Perhaps you can’t understand…”

“No.” Sogné’s expression vanished. 

“I can understand.” He spoke in a strange, flat voice with no rise or fall.

“I can actually understand.” As he spoke, he placed a hand over his heart.

“Look. It feels like there’s a hole here that can never be filled.”

Myss frowned. Sogné’s movement gave him an uncanny sense of familiarity.

Not long ago, when the younger Salaar had confessed to him, he had pressed a hand to his chest in exactly the same way.

[—Look. This is where the burning begins.]

The hollow expression on the young Salaar’s face at the time nearly overlapped with Sogné’s now. 

But in that instant, Sogné stopped moving entirely. It wasn’t ordinary stiffness. It was closer to becoming frozen in place. He stared expressionlessly at Salaar without blinking.

Salaar moved in a flash, seized the sunbathing Myss, and flung him behind himself.

Crack.

A chain of sharp sounds rang out as Sogné’s head split open like an eggshell. Amid the violent tremor, dazzling white light exploded through Salaar and Myss’s vision.

Myss instinctively wrapped all four limbs around Salaar. He didn’t know which of them was more vulnerable in this position. He only knew they absolutely couldn’t be separated right now.

Fortunately, no attack followed. When the two barely regained their sight, the surroundings had changed.

The size of the room remained the same, but the warm wooden walls had turned into cold stone bricks. The soft carpet had vanished from the floor, leaving only frigid stone. Even the sofa had become a stone bench without cushions, which immediately irritated Myss.

The entire atmosphere had darkened considerably. Candlesticks bearing carved candles had appeared in the corners. Sunlight still blazed outside the windows, but its colors were several times more intense than before, making everything look false.

Myss clung firmly to Salaar’s back, his eyes sweeping warily across the room. He had no intention of getting down yet.

“Daddy. Mommy.”

A childish voice called.

Myss slowly poked his head out from behind Salaar and looked toward the sound. “That thing” still somewhat resembled Sogné, but he had become smaller.

Before, Sogné had been tall enough to bury his face against Myss’s stomach. The Sogné before them now was shorter than Myss’s leg. 

He still had gray hair and blue eyes resembling theirs. But his face… His face looked malformed, with the left and right sides different in size.

Sogné’s head was no longer normally rounded. It looked as though someone had tried to fuse half an adolescent’s face with half a child’s face, creating a nauseating disharmony. Worse still, faint traces of cracks remained across his face, like overgrown capillaries.

Expression returned to that distorted face. It was a bright yet uneasy smile. Sogné clutched the corner of his clothes and looked nervously at the two of them.

To an ordinary human, he might have appeared terrifying. To the Chaos Archdemon, however, this was less frightening than a sprouting potato.

Myss climbed down from behind Salaar and immediately began pinching and pulling Sogné’s face again, studying the changes in this wild god, or perhaps this wild god’s puppet.

“Mm… Mommy… Daddy…!”

A trace of astonishment still remained on Salaar’s face. But when he realized the place still existed, the Hero seemed to release half a breath. Then, seeing Myss energetically torment Sogné, he slowly released the other half as well.

Myss truly was exceptionally intelligent, and he valued his life. If Myss dared touch Sogné directly, that meant the change wasn’t negative, or at least posed no immediate threat to their lives.

Eventually, Salaar instinctively turned his gaze back toward the kitchen.

“The food is still there. Good.” He said, “Actually, I’m more accustomed to stone kitchens. Creamy mushroom soup, vegetable salad, and crispier toasted bread, correct?”

Now it was Sogné’s turn to feel uneasy. He touched his distorted body and looked back and forth between Myss and Salaar.

“Mommy, don’t you hate me?”

“Your father is uglier than you when he gets old,” Myss said cheerfully.

Sogné: “…”

Sogné looked even more confused. “That isn’t what I meant…”

“Fine, if you don’t want to hear stories about that old guy.” Myss clicked his tongue loudly. “You look more human than I did when I was young. Is that better?”

Sogné’s expression grew more vivid, though not in a positive way. He stared at Myss in utter incomprehension, his face plainly asking, Why haven’t you run away yet?

Myss didn’t care about the brat’s mental state. He even bent down and sniffed around Sogné.

This was a valuable change in magical fluctuations. He had to remember it clearly.

……

Outside the door, Tass abruptly pulled his nose back and sneezed.

The other two rats, or more precisely, the contemptible cowards, had fled in panic to warn Kalen the moment they noticed something unusual. But he, the brave Dragon Fae Tass Ga, dared to stick his nose through the gap once again.

A brief eruption of magic had occurred inside only seconds earlier. The wave passed through the door and made his rat whiskers tremble violently. Perhaps because of the surge, the strange presence in the darkness had concealed itself, and its aura had weakened somewhat.

Tass immediately shoved his nose inside and sniffed repeatedly.

The smell hadn’t changed.

But the magic… The magic was circulating faster and faster. The entire magical atmosphere had become somewhat “warm,” increasingly resembling the place where he had been born.

Yet this magical tide was even more complicated and violent than his birthplace. It gave him the absurd illusion that his birthplace was merely an imitation of this place.

Extremely active magic. A magical tide resembling the birthplace of magical creatures…

No. Something was missing.

When Tass had been born, the Dragon Fae ancestors had already constructed a guiding formation. The birthplace directed the active magic into clusters, allowing the newly conscious Dragon Fae to follow its guidance and gradually construct their bodies.

But there was no guiding formation here. There was no guiding magic at all. Inside the room, there was only suspicious darkness and the strange being concealed within it.

Think again… A man and a woman chosen as sacrifices… The Blind God’s Blessing, which produced loving, happy couples…

No.

Could it be drawing exceptional humans into falling in love, guiding them into mental union and spiritual gestation, then allowing that unknown magical creature to imitate them and construct a body of its own?

What exactly was the being so desperately trying to be born?

No, no!

The Dragon Fae’s expression changed in horror.

Never mind the unknown entity. This time, two men had gone inside!

Those two were already a couple and had no need for the Blind God’s Blessing, but they were physically incapable of producing a child!

---

The author has something to say:

They don’t have that function. They don’t have that function. [cat paw]

Dragon Fae: What do we do? Are they going to be trapped in there for the rest of their lives? [afraid]

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Kinky Thoughts:

Tentacles and falling in love with a Cthulhu-type monster is fine, but Nian Zhong won’t cross the line with MPREG? Lol. Though to be fair, I’m not a big fan of MPREG either.

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

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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

---

Chapter 131: The Rat Fae’s Adventure

Father Kalen returned to the corridor once more. This time, he didn’t encounter any other troublesome figures.

Even so, the priest lightened his steps and crept carefully outward. By the time he reached the outermost part of the Root Church, Tass had finally recovered somewhat.

“This place is deadly. I thought I’d never be able to breathe properly again in my life.”

The priest scratched his head. “Is there something wrong with the magical environment inside?”

Tass laboriously pushed half his body out, both hands gripping the edge of the gemstone. “It’s hard to describe. I’ve never encountered an environment like that before. It’s like…”

He struggled for a while to find the right words. “…Like the place where I was born.”

Father Kalen gave him an inquisitive look.

“The flow of magic is abnormally chaotic, but the magical fluctuations are extremely rich. If the environment outside is a cup of cold water, then the inside is a pot of boiling cream stew.”

The Dragon Fae tried his best to explain it to the large human.

“If the latter is served in a bowl, it’s a wonderful dinner. But if you yourself get thrown into the pot to stew, it’s not nearly as pleasant.”

The priest gave an only half-understanding “oh.” “Then I’ll find somewhere to hide the obsidian. You can rest outside.”

“No! I barely helped last time, and now you want me to rest again? I can’t afford that humiliation.”

Tass shouted with full vigor. “This kind of magical turbulence can be blocked by flesh and blood. As long as I have a physical body to inhabit, I’ll be able to stabilize my form.”

That made sense, Kalen thought.

The Dragon Fae was genuinely powerful. Even those young priests could move freely through the Root Church, so there was no reason Tass couldn’t.

But a body of flesh and blood…

“You can possess things?” Father Kalen asked cautiously. “I thought only divine power could do that.”

“Listen, even without that frightening mental exchange, similar forms of ‘possession’ have existed before.” The Dragon Fae lifted his nose and explained with considerable expertise. “The first kind is altering the appearance of your own body and impersonating someone else. It’s extremely difficult flesh magic, but it does exist. Humans like using that method.”

“The second is a little trick reserved for magical creatures like us. Give me a fresh corpse, and I can temporarily ‘wear’ it and move around.”

After speaking, Tass sighed. “Dragon Fae usually don’t do it, though. It’s a technique favored by the undead.”

Father Kalen looked as though he were facing a mortal enemy. “But where are we supposed to find a fresh corpse?”

“That’s the hardest part.” Tass sighed repeatedly. “If I had no morals, I could have killed that brat just now. Unfortunately, I do. Quite a lot of them, in fact.”

The priest had already begun considering other approaches. “…Does this fresh corpse have to be human?”

“Wait, you’re not seriously—”

“Would a rat work?” Father Kalen asked, already reaching into his pocket.

The Dragon Fae opened his mouth.

The phrases “Rats are filthy, you bastard” and “Do you have some kind of grudge against me?” lodged in his throat.

What finally emerged was: “You just asked them for help, and now you want to kill one?”

Kalen looked horrified. “Of course not! Aside from humans, I never kill animals that have spoken to me!”

The Dragon Fae: “…”

The Dragon Fae: “…Okay.”

At the same time, Kalen pulled his hand from his pocket, revealing a piece of sweet cheese.

He summoned a rat and proposed a small trade. They would provide a relatively intact mouse corpse, and he would exchange it for an equal amount of sweet cheese.

The rat liked the bargain.

Before long, they dragged a stiff little rat before Kalen. It seemed to have eaten something poisonous. White foam clung to its mouth, and its body hadn’t yet begun to breed maggots.

A hopelessly dispirited look settled over Tass’s face. He sighed at least a hundred times in front of Kalen before finally entering the dead rat’s body.

The instant the dead rat stood up, several nearby rats shrieked in terror and fled in a stumbling panic, cheese clutched in their mouths.

The Dragon… Rat Fae: “Heh.”

“Next, I’ll direct the other rats to assist you. If you encounter danger, scream, and I’ll have them throw you the obsidian,” Kalen instructed earnestly.

“Fine.” Tass struggled forward on all four legs. He wanted to sigh again.

He had to admit that once he had this shield of flesh and blood, the influence of the strange magical turbulence weakened immediately. No wonder Myss had experienced the environment so differently.

The only problem was that everything he was used to had grown several times larger, while a stiff tail now trailed behind his rear. Tass walked with exceptional irritation and wanted nothing more than to bite someone.

When they returned to the barred gate near the central sanctuary, Kalen stopped.

Countless spells had been attached to the gate. It wasn’t that he couldn’t break it open through brute force, but this was too close to the center of the church. He would be discovered almost immediately.

Three dark-brown rats, including the remarkable Tass Ga, slipped through the hollow patterns and continued onward in his place.

Light from the corridor danced across the cutout designs, casting faint shadows.

“May His Veil shroud you, unseen and unharmed.”

Kalen solemnly placed one hand over his heart.

Under the complicated gazes of the other two rats, Tass squeezed through the gap in the door with a display of heroic determination despite his physical limitations and successfully infiltrated the preparation room.

Two priests stood inside, one old and one young.

“Both honored guests have entered,” Priest Garnet said, bowing his head to the elaborately dressed old man.

The old man’s beard reached the floor. He wore broad white robes, and the sweet fragrance of nut oil concealed the particular scent of old age. He leaned on an emerald staff taller than himself and gazed at the tightly closed door.

“May our God’s wish be fulfilled,” the old man sighed.

Priest Garnet looked far more expectant. He gazed longingly at the door. “I heard that you were chosen by the Blind God when you were young. I’ve always hoped that God might grant me the same honor someday. Unfortunately, this year He chose outsiders.”

Tass strained his neck upward to examine Garnet.

The priest had a strong and attractive build, smooth skin, and spotless white teeth. It was clear that he took great care of his appearance. His features were indeed handsome and proper, but he was still a level below Salaar. Even the plain and honest Kalen surpassed him.

Tass was actually quite curious about the Blind God’s standards. Usually, followers of other faiths would be treated as literal living sacrifices rather than recipients of divine blessing… Tass was no longer young. He refused to believe the Blind God had gathered two attractive young people merely to play matchmaker.

Perhaps humans found it romantic to receive a spouse of exceptional appearance whose character had been guaranteed by a god. But Dragon Fae possessed no sense of “romance” whatsoever. Tass firmly believed there was some kind of conspiracy involved.

The magical conditions here resembled the environment in which magical creatures were born. That couldn’t possibly be a coincidence. Unfortunately, the old man only smiled silently and didn’t respond. His gaze remained fixed on the nearby door.

“Choosing two outsiders and choosing a pair of lovers are both unprecedented,” Priest Garnet continued. “It appears Lord Blind God wishes to alter His selection method…”

“Garnet, say what you truly mean,” the old man said calmly.

“High Priest, is this change truly… ‘positive’?”

For the first time, uncertainty entered Garnet’s voice.

“What exactly does our God desire?”

“The prayers that night were like one long dream. When I awoke, she and I retained only a faint impression of the taboo, along with a sense of intimacy toward each other.”

At the mention of “her,” the old man revealed a faint smile. But as he continued, it quickly disappeared.

“…At the same time, I remember an inexplicable sense of loss. We must have disappointed Him. Later, I questioned other ‘blessed couples,’ and they all had similar feelings.”

“Child, I do not know what He seeks from us, but that desire must be extremely urgent, and it has never once been fulfilled.”

Garnet fell silent. Viewed that way, the Blind God certainly had a reason for choosing outsiders, but…

“Why doesn’t He tell us what He desires?” Garnet asked.

“Garnet, oh Garnet. How could a god make a wish to humans?”

The old man laughed. “Besides, He is the great being who raised our ancestors from the marsh and restored these ruins to glory. If even He can’t fulfill this wish, what use would there be in telling us?”

“You’re right,” Garnet said humbly.

Humans really did love overthinking things. The Dragon Fae snorted through his rat nose and nearly toppled over from the stench of his own breath.

As magical creatures, Dragon Fae had no faith and therefore no instinct to idealize gods. In Tass’s view, this Blind God was deeply suspicious. Perhaps He refused to reveal His purpose simply because that purpose was too dangerous.

Listening to the two humans speak in riddles had yielded little useful information. Tass’s eyes shifted. He quietly crawled toward the tightly closed door.

He wouldn’t go inside. He would merely use his height advantage to peek through the gap beneath it. That should be safe enough.

The Dragon Fae was a creature of action. He shook off the other two rats and, while the priests weren’t looking, crept close to the crack beneath the door.

There it was again. This time, even through flesh and blood, he could feel that turbulent, chaotic aura. The gap beneath the door was extremely narrow. Tass forced his head into it, but after a great deal of effort, only half his nose fit through. Fortunately, he had pressed his head low enough to barely see the room beyond.

The interior was pitch-black. Salaar and Myss lay near the door. Soft cushions had been placed beneath them in advance. Their breathing was long and shallow, and they appeared to be in a deep sleep.

Farther inside, everything was submerged in darkness, and Tass couldn’t see clearly. But within that ambiguous blackness, he smelled something.

It resembled raw meat soaked in water for far too long, rotting honey, and moldy medicinal herbs. Faint heartbeats sounded from the darkness. There was more than one, yet they beat in perfect unison, like ten thousand drumsticks striking at the same time.

Tass’s tiny claws tensed. The center of the chaotic magical turbulence was inside that darkness.

Something within the shadows cast its gaze outward, watching the two sleeping figures near the door. Tass couldn’t resist stretching one tiny mouse paw into the room, trying to grab a loose strand of Myss’s hair.

Before his paw could even cross the threshold, a cold flash appeared, and the tips of his claws were sliced off entirely. Fortunately, he was using a dead mouse as his body. The wound neither bled nor hurt.

But if this body were damaged too severely, his true form wouldn’t survive either.

Tass could only curl himself up and continue observing. Since he had come this far, he was determined to see what that thing truly was.

As if sensing his thoughts, a face gradually emerged from the darkness.

Most of it remained covered in shadow, leaving only a faint outline. Even so, Tass could tell that it was a young human face.

It hung upside down, its scalp pressed against the ground at a grotesque angle. If it came any closer, it would certainly see Tass through the gap.

The Dragon Fae’s fur stood on end. He staggered back two steps, then turned and hid behind the doorframe.

On the brightly lit side of the door, the two priests stood together and prayed with absolute devotion.

“May our God’s wish be fulfilled.”

“May our God’s wish be fulfilled.”

……

Inside the “room.”

Although he found the child abnormal, Myss bravely finished every last piece of fried meat.

“Tell me. What do you want me to do?” The Archdemon wiped his mouth and set the empty bowl on the table.

Sogné pretended not to hear.

This brat was becoming more and more like Salaar. Myss drew a deep breath and clenched his teeth. “Tell me. What do you want ‘Mommy’ to do?”

“Nothing special,” Sogné said. “Mommy only needs to be herself. Of course, it would be even better if Mommy played with me.”

Myss truly had no idea how humans played. There was nothing like that in the slave’s memories.

He thought for a long while, then had no choice but to imitate Salaar. He rummaged through the ingredients and pulled out several mushrooms.

“Watch carefully. I’ll throw them, and you bring them back.”

Sogné: “…Mommy, I’m not a dog.”

“Your father likes this game. He even plays it by himself,” Myss stated honestly.

Sogné considered this in silence for quite some time before swallowing his frustration.

“All right.”

Myss gave a small hum and casually threw a mushroom far away. Sogné sprang lightly into the air. Using movements no ordinary child could possibly perform, he ran along the wall and landed beside the mushroom.

He picked it up without enthusiasm and trotted back to Myss.

“Mommy, now it’s my turn to throw.”

“I’m not a dog either,” Myss said.

Sogné looked somewhat aggrieved. “But you said Daddy…”

Myss was utterly merciless. “Why do you think he played by himself back then? Because I refused to play with him.”

Sogné pursed his lips and made a pitiful look. Myss, on the other hand, felt inexplicably relieved. Perhaps the Blind God would find him so irritating that It would kick the two of them out. That would count as freedom too.

Putting the thought into action, he pinched Sogné’s round cheeks and stretched them out.

“Mommy, don’t do dat,” Sogné said indistinctly. “Let’s play something else. What does Mommy like to play?”

What did he like to play?

The question genuinely stumped Myss. From the moment he became conscious, he had never had time to explore his preferences. He had spent all his time observing Salaar.

After entering the human world, he had also remained inseparable from Salaar. Every activity that could be called “playing” somehow involved Salaar. But if he had to name the activity he enjoyed most…

“I like playing with your father,” he concluded solemnly. 

Sogné sucked in a sharp breath. “You shouldn’t say that to a child.”

Myss: “…”

Sogné: “…”

Myss: “Then I have nothing else to say.”

Interacting with young creatures was truly irritating, though this little brat might not actually be human. If Salaar hadn’t stayed awake for so long and needed more sleep, Myss would have dragged him out of bed already.

Seeing Myss stand there distracted, Sogné sighed, somehow sounding even more world-weary than Myss.

“You’re tired from playing, aren’t you? Go to sleep,” Myss suggested hopefully.

“I don’t need sleep,” Sogné muttered. His blue eyes stared unblinkingly at Myss. “If Mommy is tired, you can rest. I’ll read by myself.”

“Let me think. You don’t want parental affection, and you don’t need us to do anything. You only want us to remain here and…” Myss wrinkled his nose. “…And love each other. Do you have some strange hobby?”

“Hobby?”

Sogné gazed steadily at him. Those eyes, so similar to Salaar’s, were perfectly clear.

“Mommy, I’m only learning.”

“Learning how to be ‘born.’”

---

The author has something to say:

Dragon Fae: I thought I was responsible for at least part of the good looks.

Dragon Fae: (Heartbroken inside a rat’s body)

---

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

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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

---

Chapter 130: It Knows

The confession chamber.

Myss had a strange dream. Everything in it was pitch-black, as though he had returned to the depths of the seal. He tossed and turned on the bed, hugging the entire blanket to his chest, and slept until a dull ache throbbed through his temples.

He had definitely slept for more than eight hours.

The Archdemon realized he was awake. At the thought of having to deal with that terrifying child again, he kept his eyes firmly shut and rubbed his face against the pillow.

If he stayed like this a little longer, the Eye-Opening Ceremony would begin. He could wisely sleep until everything was over. Nothing could make him open his eyes…

…Hm?

A soft, rich aroma of meat drifted into Myss’s nose. Unable to resist, Myss cracked one eye open and saw a piece of fried meat Salaar was holding beneath his nose.

Myss lost all restraint. His mouth opened, and he bit the meat from Salaar’s fingers.

Salaar had probably boiled the cured meat to remove some of the salt, then coated it in egg and breadcrumbs before frying it into golden pieces. He also sprinkled pepper over the top, making it taste absolutely delicious.

“There’s more in the kitchen. Since you’re awake, get up.” Salaar sat beside the bed, amusement in his voice. “Hurry. I need to do your hair.”

Myss sat up with the blanket draped around him. His clothes were disheveled from sleep, leaving his upper body barely covered. His long gray-white hair was scattered everywhere, though the pomegranate blossoms miraculously remained in place.

He hesitated between “enduring the headache and boredom to keep sleeping” and “going to the kitchen to enjoy fried meat and fruit.” Ultimately, the latter won.

“Is it almost dawn?” Myss leaned toward Salaar hopefully.

At that, Salaar’s expression turned slightly grave.

“I’ve been keeping track of the time. You slept for nearly nine hours, but the sky outside is still daylight. The sunlight hasn’t changed at all.”

“Judging by when we entered the Root Church, morning has already come outside. But nothing in this room has changed, and no one has come to collect us.”

He carefully avoided using words such as “leave.”

Alarm bells rang in Myss’s head. “What does that mean? Are we really trapped?”

Salaar nodded.

Could this be a plot aimed specifically at them?

Myss crawled over to Salaar on his own and turned his back, covered in a cascade of long hair, toward him.

“Hurry and brush it. I need to investigate.”

As he spoke, he expertly held out a hand, ready to catch Knife and Fork that had been tucked into his hair. Salaar had hidden them there before they entered the confessional.

Yet Myss held out his hand for quite a while without feeling the familiar cool touch.

“Knife and Fork aren’t here. More precisely, they’ve disappeared.”

Salaar poked Myss’s open palm.

“That means this place definitely isn’t reality.”

Of course he knew perfectly this wasn’t the real world. Myss pulled his hand back irritably.

“After all your explanations, the fact remains that you can’t see through the Blind God’s trick. Is this what you call being ‘skilled in mental magic’?”

“In an illusion of this level, our perception of time is probably inaccurate.” Salaar continued combing Myss’s hair without changing expression. “In other words, how ‘long’ we stay here depends entirely on the Blind God’s will.”

“If It refuses to release us, we might spend another three hundred years together in this place.”

With that, he inserted the fiery pomegranate blossoms back into Myss’s hair. Myss had just gotten out of bed, and his hair still held a gentle warmth. It felt unusually alive beneath Salaar’s touch.

Myss didn’t find the prospect of being trapped terrifying. Instead, he found Salaar’s expression more frightening. Salaar actually looked relaxed, as though being imprisoned here wasn’t a bad thing.

“You don’t care?” Myss asked.

“First, they don’t know who we are, so this isn’t a targeted attack. Second, mental realms depend on mental strength, and I’m confident in mine. Third… now I understand why the previous sacrifices survived and all went on to form happy families.”

The single men and women carefully selected by the Blind God were bound to be attractive and of decent character.

On the surface, such a pair merely prayed together for one night. In reality, they spent an unknown length of time in this peculiar place, accompanied by an obedient “child” who resembled them both.

It was easy to understand how affection could develop between them, leading them to marry after they returned.

“…We joined the Eye-Opening Ceremony to relax in the first place.” Seeing Myss still glared furiously, Salaar continued, “Fortunately, you and I were trapped here together. We can take our time now. Since the situation is unclear, I suggest we continue step by step and wait to see what happens.”

Myss sat frozen on the bed.

His unhappiness ultimately came from being controlled by some nameless god. His pride couldn’t tolerate it. Salaar, meanwhile, had been suppressed by Myss all along. His skin was more than thick enough.

And now, time flowed differently here, so this wouldn’t delay anything outside. His mortal enemy was trapped beside him in the same miserable situation, unable to tamper with anything while Salaar was absent.

Since returning to the human world, this was probably the first time Salaar had felt so free.

The more the Archdemon watched his enemy enjoying himself, the angrier he became. The moment Salaar finished arranging his hair, Myss spun around and pounced, pinning him to the bed.

“I can’t relax. I have to find a way out first.”

Salaar took the opportunity to lift his head and kiss the tip of Myss’s nose. “Mm. I wish you success.”

Myss got up irritably and rushed toward the kitchen, deciding to carry out the first step of his revenge by eating every piece of fried meat Salaar had made.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t the only one who could smell it.

“Mommy!”

Sogné stood on tiptoe, reaching for the fried meat cooling on the rack. His mouth still shone visibly with grease.

The instant Myss appeared, he whipped his hands behind his back, looking nervous.

“Daddy said I could eat some… I washed my hands!”

At the thought of who this little brat meant by “Daddy” and “Mommy,” another wave of disgust ran through Myss, nearly making him move his arms and legs out of sync.

He wanted to beat the child up to vent his anger. But considering that Sogné was very likely the key to getting out, Myss had no choice but to force the violent impulse back into his mind.

“Children can’t eat too much,” he said stiffly, hugging the entire bowl to his chest.

“But Daddy’s cooking is really good,” Sogné said miserably. “Can I have two more pieces? …One? Mommy—”

The whining irritated Myss beyond endurance. He swiftly pulled out one piece and stuffed it into Sogné’s mouth.

Sogné blinked those lapis-lazuli eyes. They gradually curved into crescents, making him look exactly like a smug Salaar.

“Mommy is so nice.” He held the meat in both hands and spoke obediently.

Myss put another piece in his own mouth and cast a sideways glance at the boy. He diffused his pupils scanning for a Magibase but found nothing. The child was most likely an incarnation or puppet of the Blind God. He was definitely not a normal human.

Knife and Fork might be gone, but Myss still had magic. Perhaps he could probe Sogné’s memories and find some useful clues.

Once Myss formed the thought, he acted immediately. He quietly dispersed invisible magical mist, guiding it into Sogné’s nose, mouth, and ears.

“Achoo!”

Before Myss could do anything else, Sogné let out a huge sneeze and blasted away all the magic Myss had so carefully controlled.

“You can’t do that, Mommy.”

After sneezing, Sogné rubbed his nose. “Parents aren’t allowed to secretly read their children’s diaries. Memory diaries count too.”

Myss’s hand holding the bowl stiffened. A chill ran down his back.

He had only just sent his magic inside. The spell had barely begun. How did Sogné know he intended to read his memories?

As far as Myss knew, only Salaar had ever been able to identify the type of magic that quickly. Had this child inherited Salaar’s knowledge? Did the Blind God possess that kind of ability?

“I didn’t do anything. It’s Salaar’s fault for adding too much pepper,” Myss lied stubbornly.

Sogné tilted his head. His originally innocent face took on a trace of Salaar’s helplessness. “Mm. Let’s say that’s what happened.”

Then, as though gathering his courage, he added, “But I still want another piece of meat.”

Myss looked at those damned blue eyes, then at the bowl. In the end, he stuffed another piece into Sogné’s mouth.

“Eat.” He spoke reluctantly and resumed chewing himself.

Two gray-white heads, one large and one small, stood beside the sunlit window eating fried meat. Salaar had also left cream soup simmering on the stove. The bubbling broth released steam, faint rainbow colors shimmering in the sunlight.

From this angle, they could see Salaar resting in the bedroom.

He had remained awake for nine hours and was now sleeping deeply, without even closing the bedroom door. Myss stared at Salaar’s legs and bit viciously into the meat, as though it were Salaar’s calf.

Sogné looked at Myss, then at Salaar, before returning a timid gaze to Myss.

“Mommy, did you and Daddy have a fight?”

“No,” Myss said curtly, throwing another piece of meat into his mouth.

He could hardly tell the child that Myss wanted to get out as soon as possible while Salaar wanted to take things slowly in this miserable place.

Sogné said, “You look angry with him. Why are you angry?”

“Daddy is a very good person. His fried meat tastes good, and the hairstyle he gave you is pretty too… He did your hair, right? You can’t arrange that style by yourself.”

Myss’s eyes shifted as a brilliant idea struck him. “Tell me a story about the Blind God, and I’ll tell you why I’m angry.”

Sogné fell silent. Under the sunlight of the endless day, those blue eyes looked impossibly pure.

“But Mommy doesn’t care about the Blind God. And the Blind God didn’t choose Mommy.”

His tone carried an almost cruel innocence, as though he were sharing a small secret between mother and child.

Myss stopped chewing.

“Oh, I understand. Mommy gets angry with Daddy so easily because the two of you aren’t truly ‘in love.’ All of this is fake, right?”

Sogné spoke excitedly, his cheeks flushing with happiness.

“That’s wonderful. You’ll definitely be able to stay with me for a very, very long time!”

Warm sunlight wrapped around Myss, while cold foreboding slid down his spine.

This “child” knew what they had done.

That meant the Blind God knew they weren’t normal sacrifices, yet had still dragged them into this “home.”

Myss silently shifted his position, placing himself between Sogné and the bedroom door, his body blocking the sleeping Salaar from view.

He lowered his head and looked at Sogné’s face, which was immersed in happiness.

What exactly did this “god,” holed away in a desolate land, intend to do?

---

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

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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

---

Chapter 129: A Prayer Before Bed

Kalen immediately activated his divine power, and his figure dissolved into the darkness.

Although the room was clean, it was practically empty. There was only a single wooden bed covered with a thin sheet, an obviously ancient desk, and a rough wardrobe with its doors tightly shut.

Had time not been limited and Kalen’s build not been so large, he might even have tried hiding inside the wardrobe.

Creak.

Light from the corridor spilled through the opening as a boy entered carrying a candlestick. Kalen silently pressed himself farther into the corner and recognized the face. It was clearly the boy who had been assigned to “watch” Earl not long ago. His name seemed to be Egan.

Egan placed the candlestick on the desk without activating the magical lamps. The room was immediately coated in layers of dim light and shadow.

The boy had his back to Kalen. Illuminated by the candle, his shadow stretched all the way to the ceiling, making him look abnormally tall.

Kalen waited quietly in the corner for Egan to leave.

Tass also understood the situation and kept his mouth firmly shut, pretending he didn’t exist at all.

The room didn’t look inhabited, so Kalen had assumed Egan would leave quickly. Yet the young priest had barely set down the candlestick before he walked to the bed and sat down.

Kalen: “…”

Did this child actually live here? Had the door been left improperly closed not by coincidence, but because this was his room?

Kalen could indeed conceal himself, but he could only conceal himself. Small objects like the obsidian could remain close to his body without issue, but he couldn’t hide the motion of opening or closing a door.

Egan seemed completely unaware of the other person in the room. He interlaced his fingers and touched the knuckles of his index fingers to his lips, assuming a standard posture of prayer.

Unfortunately, he didn’t close his eyes. His sky-blue gaze remained fixed on the empty floor.

“Praise the loving nameless god. Praise His silent protection, His impartial care, and His endless gifts. Darkness shall at last be broken, and light shall soon arrive…”

He chanted softly in a clear, pleasant voice.

Kalen’s brows drew together slightly. These were probably prayers to the Blind God, yet they sounded faintly familiar.

Through the dim little room, he seemed to see the equally dim house he had once shared with his brother many years ago.

To save money on lamp oil, they would light only the fireplace. At least they could gather the wood themselves and didn’t need to pay for it.

Apart from the small circle directly before the hearth, their room had been just as dark.

“Don’t look so miserable, Kalen.” Hermit embraced him in the memory. “This darkness is perfect. We can pray to the Lord of Shadows.”

“But I heard that only people who believe in the Eternal Hearth pray to fireplaces,” Kalen said. “Should we put the fire out, Hermi?”

“Darkness and shadow are different things.” Hermit released him and rested both hands on his shoulders. “Think about it. A God of Darkness sounds evil the moment you hear the name!”

Kalen only half understood. “Oh. Then how do we pray?”

Hermit turned his back to the fireplace and rolled his eyes in thought. “Like this. I’ll say one line, and you repeat after me.”

“Praise the loving god.”

“Praise the loving god.”

“Praise His protection, His care, and His endless blessings.”

“Praise His protection, His care… His endless… what?”

“Blessings, Kalen. Bless-ings. They’re something like gifts.”

“But I haven’t noticed any blessings.” Kalen looked extremely confused. “The Lord of Shadows hasn’t even given us a single copper tooth, and we barely have any lamp oil left at home.”

To get more lamp oil for reading, Hermit had once tried buying some cheap oil.

Unfortunately, it had smelled strange, and when burned, it filled the entire room with choking smoke. The two of them had been forced to give up.

“All right. Maybe I shouldn’t have compared them to gifts.” Hermit grimaced. “He gave us hope, Kalen. Hope is far more precious than lamp oil.”

Kalen remained confused. At least in his own memory, he had never felt despair.

But if Hermit said so, then their “hope” had to be real. Kalen silently considered this for a while.

“Praise His protection, His care, and His endless blessings,” he repeated clumsily.

Hermit smiled. Although he still had the face of a child, the smile held a strange bitterness. In the firelight, even the scars on his face seemed less obvious.

Wait… When had Hermit been injured?

Kalen pressed his fingers to his temple. In his memories, Hermit seemed always to have carried those two terrible scars. There was also a frightening scar encircling his neck like a noose.

Yet Father Kalen couldn’t remember where that had come from either.

Perhaps he had still been an infant without memories at the time, Kalen thought.

Hermit had simply never mentioned it, and Kalen had grown so accustomed to the scars that he had never thought to ask. That had to be it.

Their prayer back then had also ended with that mysterious line of unknown origin.

“May His Veil shroud you, unseen and unharmed,” Hermit recited in his clear voice.

“May His Veil shroud you, unseen and unharmed.”

An equally clear voice crossed the years and repeated the words before Father Kalen.

Egan remained in his prayer posture, a faint and devout smile on his face.

For an instant, Father Kalen nearly dispelled his concealment and rushed forward to demand where the words had come from.

The Secret Garden was fiercely isolationist. It practically wished to draw a boundary around all of Mondicia and declare that the destruction of the outside world didn’t matter.

The Order of Shadows couldn’t possibly be the Secret Garden. It was difficult even to find anything the two had in common.

And yet an Emissary of the Secret Garden had used a prayer from the Order of Shadows directly in front of him.

Was it merely a coincidence? Or was this child also a member of the Order of Shadows?

Kalen’s heart had never beaten so quickly. It was making enough noise to threaten to reveal his location. Worse still, after finishing his prayer, Egan slowly rose and walked toward the corner where Kalen was hiding.

Egan’s head reached only Kalen’s chest, yet Kalen instinctively drew himself inward, his heart pounding even faster.

He could use divine power to hide his form, but he couldn’t make himself truly cease to exist. If Egan touched him, the boy would still realize something was wrong.

Within seconds, Egan stopped directly in front of him. He leaned forward and reached one hand toward Kalen.

Kalen hurriedly moved aside and nearly collided with him. His chest narrowly brushed past Egan’s forehead. In the end, Kalen froze awkwardly while Egan grasped an inconspicuous broom standing in the corner.

For that brief instant, it almost looked as though the boy had rested his forehead against Kalen’s chest.

Egan didn’t move immediately, as if lost in thought. His breath lightly brushed the front of Father Kalen’s clothing.

Kalen tensed even harder, not daring to breathe. At the same time, he had to remain aware of the broom behind him in case Egan pulled too forcefully and struck him with the handle.

He had clearly divined no ill omen. What was this supposed to be?

Fortunately, after that brief “moment of distraction,” Egan abandoned the idea of cleaning the room.

He returned to his original seat, drew his knees together, and stared at the wavering candle flame. Drops of wax slid down one after another, cooling into lustrous warm-white beads.

Kalen had only just released a breath when Egan’s next words suspended his heart again.

“My God, when will I be able to return to my family?” Egan spoke softly. “I know we must remain apart. I have my reasons. I only hope everything will be settled soon.”

Kalen’s throat tightened.

He watched Egan’s sorrowful face for a moment, slipped a dried leaf capable of altering his voice beneath his tongue, and quietly moved closer to the candle.

“Soon…”

He forced the single word out in a breathy whisper, making the voice seem to come from the flame itself.

The candle flickered gently, illuminating Egan’s stunned face.

In the next instant, that face broke into an extraordinarily bright smile.

“My god, it’s really You. I knew You would answer me—”

Kalen immediately shut his mouth and offered no further response.

He had wanted to comfort the child purely out of sympathy for someone in a similar situation. His own brother had also left him, driven by some “compelling reason” Kalen still couldn’t understand.

But Egan had no intention of stopping.

“Listen to me. I had no choice but to separate from the younger brother I love dearly.” Egan stared intensely at the candle. “The worst part is that I left without saying goodbye… more or less.”

Egan looked not yet twenty. His younger brother could only be younger still.

Kalen remained silent, picturing a little boy crying and calling after him.

“But I have my mission. I must serve my God.” Egan seemed to treat this room as a confession chamber and continued speaking without pause. “And because of… certain reasons, if I remained with him, I would only place both of us in danger.”

That’s no excuse for leaving without a word, Kalen thought. You could have told him all of this.

But that hardly sounded like something a god should say, so he could only continue remaining silent.

Egan closed his eyes.

“I know You once taught us that family should be honest with one another.”

“But if everything could be explained in a few simple words, it wouldn’t be a ‘compelling reason.’”

“My God, leaving him and deceiving him have caused me unbearable pain. Even so, I still want to protect him, just as he once protected me.”

“I made him a promise. I would willingly give my life to keep it.”

The boy’s tone was extraordinarily sincere, carrying even the faintest hint of tears.

Kalen stood there in a daze.

That was right. Why was he so fixated on Hermit’s reason for leaving?

His brother loved him. They had lived together for many years, and there could be no doubt about that. Therefore, Hermit’s strange arrangements afterward, the way they had unconsciously guided Kalen into following Myss and Salaar, must also have been driven by some compelling reason.

Even now, the mysterious V.O.R remained concealed in fog. Perhaps Hermit knew something dangerous and had truly attracted V.O.R’s attention.

The more Kalen thought about it, the more his brows relaxed. The possibility comforted him in a subtle way.

Hermit was still alive, merely hiding in the shadows and helping them. Myss and Salaar were the key to confronting V.O.R, so Kalen only needed to give them his full support.

Even better, their next destination was the city Evening Star in Atla, where they would investigate the Order of Shadows. If Kalen’s guess was correct, this was precisely the result Hermit had guided him toward indirectly.

Hermit was alive. Everything was still filled with hope. It was the best situation Kalen could possibly imagine.

“He will forgive you…”

Kalen moved close to the candle again and answered in an ethereal voice.

Egan rose from the bedside and strode to the desk, his face full of joy and relief.

His movement happened to open a path through the cramped room. Kalen immediately slipped through and successfully reached the door.

“Thank you for Your understanding and tolerance.” Egan raised his voice. “I will prepare for the Eye-Opening Ceremony with all my heart.”

It seemed Kalen had overthought the matter. Egan still worshiped the Blind God. Most of Kalen’s curiosity faded.

The Crimson Marsh was filled with ruins of the Firmament. Perhaps the prayers of the Order of Shadows and the Secret Garden merely happened to share the same ancient origin.

Revealing himself rashly would be unwise. It would be better to observe the other emissaries first.

“…Good night, my dear little brother.”

Beside the desk, Egan extinguished the candle. He returned to bed, and his breathing soon grew calm and even.

The door was unlocked. Kalen gently pushed it open with the tip of his boot and returned to the brightly lit corridor. The next moment, the door silently closed behind him, and everything within the room sank completely into darkness.

“Good night, my dear Kalen.”

On the old wooden bed, “Egan” curled his lips into a smile.

---

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

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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

---

Chapter 128: Sogné

Myss’s mind grounded to a halt. He even forgot to use his control magic to distort the child’s senses.

Not even when he first discovered that he had been body-swapped into the human world had he been this shocked. Myss had thought the Eye-Opening Ceremony was nothing more than entertainment. Now it seemed the Blind God was somehow even more chaotic than the Chaos Archdemon himself.

“Mommy.”

The child still clung tightly to his leg and refused to let go.

Suppressing the irritation filling his chest, Myss lowered his gaze and glared at the child.

It was a little boy with lapis-lazuli eyes identical to Salaar’s. His hair was gray-white, much like Myss’s, hanging at the length that brushed against his shoulders.

His appearance was exceptionally sweet and well-behaved. His cheeks were round, and he had none of Salaar’s annoying air. Yet the longer Myss looked, the more unhappy he became. He realized that the child’s brows and eyes somewhat resembled his own, while the nose and lips were the spitting image of Salaar’s.

As for his age, Myss wasn’t good at judging human years. He only knew that the child stood slightly above his waist, with his face at precisely the right height to bury itself against Myss’s stomach.

What the hell is this nightmare child, and where did he come from?

Just as Myss struggled to peel the child off his leg, Salaar approached in astonishment. The wretched child immediately changed targets.

“Daddy!”

Myss and Salaar: “…”

The two looked at each other and, for the first time, saw a trace of helpless confusion in the other’s eyes.

Driven by some subtle emotion, they silently moved a little farther apart.

Salaar drew a deep breath, crouched halfway down, and tried to meet the boy’s eyes.

“Who are you?”

“I’m Sogné.” The little boy looked shocked, and a hint of panic appeared on his face. “Daddy, don’t you recognize me?”

Salaar: “…Daddy’s only feeling a little dizzy. Good boy, do you remember what happened before we went out?”

While the child’s attention was fixed on Salaar, Myss quickly surveyed their surroundings.

The room they were in looked nothing like a church confession chamber.

It resembled the interior of a large wooden house. The living room was spacious, with a complete kitchen and bathroom, as well as two bedrooms. With all the doors and windows open, everything was visible at a glance.

Yet it was nighttime, and they were plainly underground inside a church. Outside the windows, however, stretched endless grassland beneath a vividly blue sky filled with white clouds. Sunlight slid along the curtains and spilled in broad patches across the wooden floor.

Myss turned and tugged at the door through which they had entered, only to discover that it wouldn’t open no matter what he did.

He quietly separated several magical threads and tried to destroy the door, but even beneath his savage annihilation magic, the wood didn’t change in the slightest.

Myss immediately checked the surrounding flow of magic. Strangely enough, this place still wasn’t a Divine Realm. They couldn’t escape by killing its master.

Wonderful. They were trapped inside this inexplicable “confession chamber,” most likely through the Blind God’s handiwork.

Could this brat be an incarnation of the Blind God?

Myss turned back and examined the strange child with an unfriendly gaze.

“…Mommy and Daddy didn’t go anywhere. We’ve always lived here,” the child calling himself Sogné said. “Daddy, I’m hungry. Can we have potato soup today?”

“All right. I’ll make it.” Salaar agreed immediately and gave Myss a meaningful look.

The kitchen shelves were filled with baskets containing all kinds of ordinary fresh vegetables. In one corner stood a full vat of clear water.

Besides salt and baked bread, there was cheese, butter, and cured meat. Salaar even found a small bowl of pepper.

Mr. Hero put on an apron with practiced ease and picked up a kitchen knife.

Myss crowded over beside him, though his hands showed no intention of helping.

“What’s going on?”

“You haven’t figured it out either, so this probably isn’t a Divine Realm. Unfortunately, my mental magic doesn’t work here.”

Salaar skillfully peeled and sliced the potatoes.

“I think the only thing we can be certain of is that this is connected to the Blind God’s divine power. Remember what the priest said? There is no fixed prayer. We ‘only need to show friendliness.’”

Only show friendliness?

Ever since seeing that face combining features from both of them, the goosebumps on Myss’s skin hadn’t faded.

When he thought of the so-called Blind God’s Blessing, they grew even worse. Myss couldn’t help scratching his arm.

The Blind God’s twisted sense of humor was even more outrageous than Salaar’s. Even if it had nothing to do with V.O.R, Myss still wanted to beat it up.

Unlike him, Salaar regained his composure remarkably quickly, almost suspiciously so. He expertly set potatoes, carrots, and onions to simmer, looking relaxed as though he had returned to his own home.

Amid the rising steam, Mr. Hero stirred the soup while glancing at the child several times from the corner of his eye.

Myss couldn’t identify the meaning in that gaze. He only felt his goosebumps threatening to spread. Compared with this cursed place, he almost missed the Red Amber.

Forget it. The priest had also said that as long as they didn’t mention leaving, everything would be fine.

They only had to remain in this miserable place for one night and endure it.

Myss had tolerated Salaar for more than three hundred years. He had considerable confidence in his patience.

“Mommy, carry me!”

The child calling himself Sogné clung to him again, wrapping his arms affectionately around Myss.

…No, maybe he wasn’t that confident in his patience. Myss shuddered from head to toe.

“Yes, you need to be friendlier, darling.”

Salaar solemnly waved the soup ladle.

Myss wished he could stab straight through him with his gaze.

Angry as he was, he still picked the little brat up. Sogné was lighter than he had expected and made no provocative movements. The child simply wrapped one arm around Myss’s neck and used the other to play with the pomegranate flowers on his plant necklace.

“So pretty,” he said happily.

His movements were extremely careful that he didn’t even pluck off a single petal.

Salaar lifted the lid from the pot and used brilliant golden magic to crush the ingredients into a thick orange-yellow soup. Then he chopped some bacon, tossed it in, and a fresh fragrance spread with the steam.

Myss sniffed. The scent was completely real.

At the sight of the soup, Sogné’s eyes sparkled. “That’s pretty too!”

His smile was so radiant that it seemed he had never known the meaning of worry in his life.

“Good boy. Remember to wash your hands before eating.”

Salaar quickly accepted the role of “father” and even seemed to be enjoying himself.

As he arranged bread in his hands, and the corner of his mouth curved into a faint smile—a rare, genuine smile.

Had Salaar been contaminated by the Blind God? The thought made Myss feel increasingly horrified.

Restless and distracted, Myss found the meal flavorless. The moment he finished eating, he claimed that he was tired and needed an “afternoon nap.”

The priest had only said he couldn’t leave. He never said anything about hiding. Contrary to his expectations, Sogné neither cried nor made a fuss, nor did he continue clinging to him.

He even poured Myss a cup of clear water.

“Mommy, rest well. I’m going to my room to draw.”

Myss fled like an arrow.

Once inside the bedroom, he slammed the door and began pacing around the medium-sized wooden room.

Less than two seconds later, the door creaked.

“Don’t be nervous, ‘Mommy.’ It’s just me.” Salaar had removed that damned apron and looked far more relaxed than Myss.

“You seem to be enjoying yourself,” Myss hissed. “Even the two of us can’t figure out what this place is. Is the Blind God really this powerful?”

“The Secret Garden is famous, but as a relatively new religion, its influence is far weaker than that of the Church of Cadance. If the god it worships were truly that omnipotent, the Secret Garden would have dominated everything long ago.”

Salaar sat on the edge of the bed and patted the space beside him.

“So I think the Blind God’s power isn’t strong, but unusual. Like an obscure poison. Treating it may not be difficult. The hard part is identifying its properties.”

“It’s like the Lord of Shadows worshiped by that priest. Its ability to conceal is astonishing, and neither you nor I can see through it.”

Myss reluctantly sat down beside Salaar. “…You have a point.”

He watched the bedroom door warily, terrified that the horrifying child might appear at any moment, even though Salaar had locked it behind him.

“Judging by the time, it should be well past midnight. Sleep for a while.” Salaar patted his shoulder. “I’ll keep watch. Nothing will happen.”

“Trust you?” Myss sneered.

But before he could remove the mockery from his face, his body had already fallen onto the soft bed.

Hopefully, the friendly meal Salaar had prepared would count as a prayer. He wanted nothing more than to sleep soundly until ten minutes before the Eye-Opening Ceremony. Myss prayed hazily to himself, then quickly sank into sleep.

In the child’s bedroom.

Sogné held a red crayon and drew a pair of red eyes onto the “Mommy” in the picture, then began coloring the plant necklace threaded with pomegranate flowers.

Beside “Mommy,” the outlines of “Daddy” and “the child” had already been sketched.

Everyone had simple round heads, trapezoid bodies, and twig-like limbs. They could only be distinguished by their colors and clothing.

Sogné drew with complete concentration. Before long, the family portrait was finished.

Humming a gentle lullaby, he solemnly pasted it onto the wall.

And the walls of the room, including the ceiling, were already covered in countless sheets of paper. Every picture had the exact same composition. They were all family portraits of three people. Only the colors worn by the figures varied slightly.

The pictures overlapped like dense scales, new paper layered over old, one sheet after another.

In the gaps, the oldest drawings had already yellowed to the color of dried leaves.

“Daddy. Mommy.”

Stroking his gray-white hair, he raised his lapis-lazuli eyes and gazed at his newest creation. His eyes brimmed with happiness.

…

The Root Church corridor.

The little mouse carried the obsidian in its mouth, darting through the barred door and racing along the base of the walls before finally stopping beside an apparently empty section of stone.

It spat out the obsidian and raised its head, its pointed nose poking around as though searching for someone.

The faint outline of a hand appeared, picked up the obsidian, and left behind a small piece of butter. Only then did the little mouse relax. It happily grabbed the butter and scampered away.

Father Kalen remained concealed as he raised the obsidian before his eyes.

He recognized its shape. It was indeed the gemstone that had previously been set into the pocket watch.

For Salaar and Myss to throw it out without explanation, either the two of them were in danger, Tass was having trouble, or both.

“Oh, I feel a little better…” Tass’s thin voice emerged from the obsidian. “Is that you, Kalen?”

Father Kalen performed a quick divination, selected one of the many outer doors that wasn’t properly locked, and slipped into the empty room beyond it.

The moment he revealed himself and prepared to ask questions, he heard footsteps approaching from a distance.

Judging by the sound, the person was young, probably one of the boys or girls among the clergy.

Father Kalen held his breath, even though he knew it shouldn’t be necessary. All the doors looked identical from the outside, and there were nearly a hundred of them. No one would randomly come over to inspect this particular room.

Unfortunately, this time he was wrong.

The light footsteps drew closer and closer, gradually slowing.

At last, they stopped precisely outside his door.

---

The author has something to say:

Now they really do have a child. (…

But don’t worry, there is no male pregnancy in this story! He originally wanted a mommy and daddy. It’s just that the Archdemon became the male mommy instead… [cat paw]

---

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

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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

---

Chapter 127: The Taboo

Upon entering the Root Church buried deep underground, Myss had expected to smell dust, but he didn’t.

This place felt empty. Not “empty” in the literal sense. It was a hollow void, like the empty shell left behind by a cicada; the kind that told you something had departed forever and would never return.

The corridors of the Root Church spiraled, but not downward. They spiraled inward, somewhat like the shell of a snail. After walking a short distance, Myss realized the structure was the same size as the circular plaza above. The plaza almost seemed to be the church’s ceiling.

Priest Garnet explained that the confession chamber was near the central sanctuary. They only needed to follow the corridor all the way to the end.

Myss sensed his surroundings for a moment but detected no unusual magical fluctuations. Tass was also staying obediently inside the pocket watch. Myss wanted to take a closer look, but whether intentionally or not, the group quickened its pace after entering the church.

As they hurried onward, Myss only had time to notice that every door lining the corridor looked identical. If the passage hadn’t gradually curved, he would have suspected the same scene was simply repeating itself.

By the time they stopped before a large door, the endless identical arches had nearly made Myss dizzy. Finally, faced with a door that looked different, he studied it intently.

Rather than a door, it resembled a cage meant to contain a wild beast.

It was hollow and cast from some kind of mixed metal, with the pale color of white tin. Alchemical symbols covered its surface, packed together like writhing worms. If one stared too long, the markings seemed to squirm faintly.

Myss lightly poked them with his free hand. They felt hard and cold; indeed they were inanimate.

“Beyond this door, the preparation room is on the left.”

Garnet finally spoke again. They had walked so quickly that he was slightly out of breath.

“There is a private bathroom inside, along with prepared clothing and some food. Once you have changed, I’ll take you through the inner door directly into the confession chamber. There will be no need to pass through the main sanctuary.”

“If you wish, you may choose someone you find agreeable to assist with bathing and dressing.”

With that, he gestured toward the young priests behind him.

Most of them were boys and girls. The girls naturally moved toward Myss, while the boys, including Egan, looked toward Salaar.

“No need,” Myss refused immediately.

He had no desire to show unfamiliar humans the bread against his chest, nor did he want to divide his attention maintaining his control spell while bathing.

Salaar didn’t answer immediately. He silently surveyed the smiling boys.

Myss looked at him in astonishment. “Why are you looking at them? Are you disabled?”

He had only ever seen Salaar help wash him. He hadn’t expected the man to be interested in having someone else assist him.

“Please allow me to assist you.” Unexpectedly, Egan stepped forward of his own accord. “I can help arrange your clothing and attend to your appearance.”

Myss dismissed him contemptuously. Salaar would certainly refuse—

“All right,” Salaar said.

Myss’s head turned with a creak as he stared at Salaar in shock.

“I’ll bathe by myself,” Salaar added quickly. “But we’re outsiders, so we may get some details of the local attire wrong. It wouldn’t be appropriate to trouble Mr. Garnet with such things, so we’ll leave them to you.”

Myss continued staring at Salaar, his eyes boring into him with intensity.

Salaar went on without changing expression. “If possible, I would like to bathe together with my darling. I’ve always taken care of Myss’s hair personally, and since we’re a couple…”

“Of course,” Priest Garnet said with an understanding smile.

Only then did Myss turn his head back and offered a grunt.

But barely five minutes later, he was irritated again.

The bathing facilities in the Root Church weren’t even as good as those in Ring Town. A shallow pool built from stone blocks had been dug into the center of the room. There were no comfortable bubbles and no sweet-smelling oils, only a waist-deep pool of warm water.

Some kind of herbs seemed to have been steeped in it, tinting the water a faint green.

Myss examined it several times but found nothing suspicious.

“What were you thinking, asking a stranger to help?”

Myss removed the bread from his chest and dragged his feet listlessly across the surface of the water.

“There’s something wrong about that guy. I only want to see what he’s planning.”

Committed to keeping up the act, Salaar readily entered the pool and sat facing Myss.

Myss thought back but couldn’t remember anything unusual about Egan.

If he had to compare them, even Father Kalen’s presence was more distinctive than that boy’s.

Perhaps it was some subtle human instinct.

Myss considered it for a while, then decided to abandon the mysterious problem.

He sighed and draped himself limply over the edge of the pool, relaxing nerves that had been tense for too long. Halfway through unwinding, he suddenly remembered something and picked up the pocket watch where Tass was hiding.

They would soon enter the confession chamber, and the Dragon Fae still hadn’t made it clear whether he intended to stay outside and cooperate with Kalen or accompany them inside.

“Hey. Hey.” Myss knocked twice against the watch case. “Come out. We need to discuss something.”

There was no movement inside.

Strange. Had the Dragon Fae already left?

Myss sensed carefully. Tass’s aura was definitely still inside the gemstone in the watch. He had to be there.

Myss shook the pocket watch, as if that might pour Tass out. He shook it in every direction for so long that even a raw egg would have been thoroughly mixed, yet Tass still made no response.

Myss hissed, “What’s going on?”

Only then did he realize that the Dragon Fae hadn’t made a sound since they entered the Root Church.

The miniature assassin certainly understood how to conceal himself, but while the two of them were bathing in a sealed room, he would normally have poked his head out and made a comment or two.

Realizing something was wrong, Salaar immediately moved closer. He rubbed his fingertips over the gemstone.

“Dragon Faes can use the power of gemstones to repair their bodies. If he isn’t responding, he’s probably being affected by some kind of magic.”

As he spoke, he gave Myss a questioning look.

Myss shook his head.

“I haven’t sensed any unusual magic. This place doesn’t feel like a Divine Realm either.”

Salaar rubbed the cool case of the pocket watch, his expression turning serious. “This won’t do. We need to find a way to give him to Kalen and see whether Kalen can get him out.”

“A concealed priest won’t be easy to find.” Myss reached for the watch in Salaar’s hand. “His aura still feels stable to me. Why not leave him like this for now? At worst, we won’t take him inside.”

At that moment, a knock sounded at the door.

“It’s me, Egan.”

A clear young voice called from outside. “I’ve brought clothing suitable for the two of you. I need to bring it inside, so please prepare yourselves.”

Myss had only just reached for the bread when the door began to move.

A shirt flew through the damp air and landed over the loaves.

Salaar yanked Myss toward himself, pressing them chest to chest and holding him tightly in his arms.

Myss: “?”

Wet hair covered Myss’s back, while the waist-deep water concealed his lower body. Salaar was now hiding his chest… though the method was somewhat strange, and Myss was being squeezed so tightly that he could barely breathe.

Salaar even extended one hand to grip Myss’s hipbone, further obscuring the gender characteristics of his body.

“May Lord Blind God forgive me. I apologize. I was so occupied choosing your clothing that I forgot the two of you were bathing together.”

Egan’s voice carried embarrassment and panic, sounding entirely sincere.

“That was indeed rather rude,” Salaar agreed, unsarcastically blunt. “Leave immediately, please.”

Egan set down the basket of clothes, lowered his head deeply, and backed out of the room. Before leaving, he remembered to close the door.

Only after confirming that Egan had truly gone did Salaar release a sigh of relief. He didn’t release Myss, however, so the entire breath landed on Myss’s face.

Myss: “…”

Myss’s entire face scrunched up. “So this is the kind of person you let in.”

He had no qualms about assuming the worst of every human, including Salaar. He didn’t believe that brat had entered “accidentally.”

If Myss had merely been an ordinary mage, those few seconds after Egan came inside wouldn’t have been enough time to cast a spell.

Even assuming the best-case scenario, that he’d managed to rashly trigger a domination spell in a panic, he might not have concealed the magical fluctuations well. In the eyes of the genius Lord Myss, Egan had clearly been testing them.

Myss unceremoniously told Salaar his theory, but Salaar shook his head. “That assumes he already knew you were hiding your true appearance.”

“And the test would be far too clumsy. If we harbored malicious intentions, we could easily have attacked him while he was inside.”

Myss stared in disbelief. “You genuinely think it was an accident?”

“No. He definitely has a purpose. I simply can’t tell what that purpose is yet,” Salaar said. “For now, we should focus on helping Tass.”

He tightened his grip around the pocket watch, pouring a steady stream of golden magic into the gemstone.

It was the gem Tass had selected for himself not long ago, an energy-rich hemispherical piece of obsidian.

At last, something stirred within the stone, like a chick scraping its beak against an eggshell.

“I’m… fine…” A weak voice emerged.

Myss leaned close to the watch. “You… sound… like you’re dying…”

“Go… screw… yourself…” The weak voice answered irritably. “The magic here is faint… but strange… my body… can’t take shape…”

“Doesn’t that mean… you’re dying…?” Myss asked in shock.

The obsidian trembled. The Dragon Fae’s voice rose slightly. “You’re the one dying…”

“Enough.” Salaar interrupted the torturous conversation. “I only have two questions, Tass. Can you confirm that your physical condition is stable? And do you want to come with us?”

“Yes… No…” This time, Tass’s tone was very certain.

“Good.” Salaar cut straight to the point. “I’ll send the obsidian outside. Find a way to meet up with Kalen yourself.”

“Okay…” The Dragon Fae’s voice grew faint again.

After bathing, the two of them changed into local clothing.

Both garments were covered in gemstone fragments and paired with gauzy shawls that ordinary people didn’t wear, making them exceptionally ornate.

Plant necklaces were naturally indispensable, while the matching aromatic wood rings instantly dried all the moisture from their bodies.

The difference was that Myss’s plant necklace was covered in vivid pomegranate blossoms and small bloodred pomegranates. There was also a matching pomegranate-flower hairpin.

Salaar’s necklace was much simpler, decorated only with fresh forget-me-nots.

Salaar dressed quickly, then turned toward Myss.

Myss had already obediently leaned his head toward him.

They weren’t allowed to carry their own accessories. Without a hair ribbon, Myss’s usual braid would be difficult to arrange. Salaar simply gathered Myss’s long hair, wove several fine braids, and pinned it into an elegant bun at the back of his head.

Finally, he secured it with the pomegranate-flower hairpin provided by the Root Church. The result was astonishingly good.

Salaar deliberately slowed his movements and secretly admired it for several seconds before finally releasing his hands.

“This is pretty convenient.” Myss couldn’t see the result. He only knew that the “large tail” behind his head was gone, making it much easier to move around.

“It’s a standard noblewoman’s hairstyle. It wouldn’t have suited you before, but right now it’s perfect.”

Salaar’s eyes crinkled with a smile.

Then he removed the obsidian from the gemstone setting in the pocket watch and concealed it in his palm.

Sure enough, when they left the bathroom again, the door leading back into the corridor had already been closed.

Priest Garnet and Egan were waiting in the center of the preparation room.

Salaar deliberately let Myss walk ahead of him.

Myss’s appearance was already eye-catching. Combined with the magnificent ceremonial clothing and fiery pomegranate ornaments, “Miss Myss” immediately drew both men’s attention.

In that brief instant, Salaar’s right hand slipped into the shadows and gave a light flick. The obsidian containing Tass shot out, bounced once in a dark corner, slid beneath the gap under the door, and escaped from the preparation room into the corridor.

This place had been converted from ancient ruins. The building itself was badly worn and couldn’t possibly be sealed perfectly.

Without producing the slightest magical fluctuation, the Dragon Fae silently “escaped” the preparation room.

Beyond the finger-wide gap beneath the door, a small mouse darted past and picked up the obsidian in its mouth. Its tiny black eyes flashed through the gap and met Salaar’s gaze for a fleeting moment.

Everything happened in an instant.

Myss, meanwhile, wasn’t particularly concerned about whether the Dragon Fae lived or died. He had just finished memorizing the prayer Garnet had taught them.

“The Blind God doesn’t require formalized prayers,” Garnet said kindly. “You need only express sincere goodwill, and the Blind God will accept it.”

“There is only one taboo. Inside the confession chamber, the two of you must never mention ‘leaving,’ ‘departure,’ or any similar word.”

What a strange requirement, Myss thought.

What would happen if someone said “leave”? Would the Blind God personally appear and fight them?

Unfortunately, the instant Myss entered the confession chamber, he learned the answer, very much against his will.

Worse still, he was the first one to enter and therefore the first unlucky victim to face the storm.

“Mommy!”

A small figure rushed forward, wrapped both arms around Myss’s leg, and smiled brilliantly.

The child’s eyes were the lapis-lazuli color Myss knew better than anything.

---

The author has something to say:

Myss: ?

Myss: ???

Myss: Is this the future or hell?

Salaar: [okay]

---

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

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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

---

Chapter 126: Traveling by Night

After all these years, Myss once again felt the thrill of a tense battle. Only this time, his enemy wasn’t Salaar. It was everyone except Salaar.

There were too many people around, so Myss dispersed his magic into an invisible mist and worked to alter everyone’s perception, making them hear his voice as a woman’s.

Myss was accustomed to crushing opponents with annihilation magic. This was the first time he had ever needed to control his power so precisely and maintain it for an extended period.

The Archdemon focused with all his might, carefully honing the technique. Even if this was only a little vacation-like adventure, he refused to embarrass himself in front of Salaar.

At the entrance to the inn, Salaar faced the Secret Garden clergy without changing expression.

“…I see. My beloved and I were chosen together.”

“Exactly.” The young priest extended a hand toward them. “My name is Garnet. I’m responsible for guiding the two of you through the ceremony.”

Salaar: “Heavens, we were really chosen! What an honor. We should go back to our room and prepare…”

No matter what, he had to buy some time to communicate with the priest.

Myss hid partly behind Salaar, letting the Hero serve as a shield on the front lines while also reducing how often he had to speak.

Garnet merely assumed that “Miss Myss” had a cold personality and offered a friendly smile.

“The Root Church will provide everything you need. The ritual lasts only one day. Once the Eye-Opening Ceremony is complete, the two of you will be honored guests of the Crimson Marsh.”

Priest Garnet’s tone remained cordial, but he shifted slightly and blocked the route they would have to take to enter the inn.

It seemed returning to the room was impossible.

Myss and Salaar exchanged a glance.

“I understand,” Myss said, unusually cooperative.

At this point, Brief and Bedsheet Archdemon would have to remain inside the book in their room and entertain themselves.

As for the investigation ahead, they would have to find another way.

At the same time, Salaar’s gaze moved toward Father Kalen, who was also standing near the entrance.

“Kalen, it seems we’ll have to separate for a while. At least we brought the pocket watch, so we won’t lose track of the time.”

The Dragon Fae chose a blind spot outside the priests’ field of vision. Half of his body poked out from Myss’s braid as he pointed emphatically at himself.

Father Kalen immediately understood. Salaar meant to take the Dragon Fae with them directly.

“…Without the two of us beside you, you’ll have to rely on your own abilities if you want to observe the Eye-Opening Ceremony carefully.”

Salaar meaningfully rubbed the fingers of his right hand, corresponding to the priest’s concealment ring, which could let him “hide within the shadows.”

Father Kalen’s tone became serious.

“Understood. I’ll be fine on my own.”

Even as he said that, he couldn’t help turning toward the inn, despite knowing he couldn’t see Earl from this angle.

In a moment, he would conceal his presence and follow them into the church.

He would only be gone for a day. Mr. Earl probably wouldn’t become suspicious…

As Kalen struggled to think of an excuse, the boy who had gone inside with Earl earlier emerged alone.

“Egan,” Garnet greeted him.

The boy walked past Kalen without looking sideways.

“That gentleman has already gone to sleep.”

“Good. Let’s go.”

Priest Garnet nodded.

The priest watched as the group surrounded Salaar and Myss and escorted them away.

He was about to find a corner and slip into the darkness when the boy called Egan suddenly turned around and looked at him.

Kalen had no choice but to pretend nothing was wrong and move a little closer to the wall.

At that exact moment, a small dark-brown mouse scurried along the base of the wall. An idea sparked in Kalen’s mind.

……

Perhaps for the sake of appearances, Salaar kept Myss’s hand firmly clasped in his own the entire time, as though they truly were a nervous and excited couple.

“I’ve heard of the Blind God’s Blessing! Thank goodness the two of us were chosen. If they’d selected me and some other woman, I wouldn’t have known how to explain it to my darling.”

Salaar chattered endlessly, his eyes looking even more innocent than those of a sheltered young mage from an ivory tower.

At the word “darling,” Myss shuddered from head to toe, every hair standing on end. He tightened his grip around Salaar’s hand with vicious force.

Salaar’s expression didn’t change. He squeezed back, and the two of them crushed each other’s bones until they creaked.

Seeing Salaar’s “enthusiastic attitude,” Garnet’s tone became even gentler.

“Don’t worry. Lord Blind God is very considerate. He never chooses young people who already have lovers or spouses.”

Salaar: “…”

For one brief instant, the Hero looked deeply aggrieved. He deliberately tilted his head, presenting Myss with the most pitiful angle possible.

Myss frowned and instinctively wanted to contradict Priest Garnet. Then he suddenly remembered that although Salaar did indeed like him, the two of them genuinely weren’t lovers, nor did they have any kind of engagement.

The thought irritated him slightly, like a nut he had already caught slipping through his fingers.

“With Lord Blind God’s blessing, you and your beloved will surely live in happiness and harmony until your hair turns gray,” the priest announced at the perfect moment.

Myss huffed, uncertain whether he should be angry at that statement. 

It had to be because maintaining his control magic was too exhausting. To rid himself of these chaotic thoughts, Myss shifted his attention to the streets on both sides.

Although numerous refuge towers stood across the land of Mondicia, the Crimson Marsh had once been an ancient city-state. There were few tall buildings inside the city itself.

The procession of priests surrounded the two of them and led them toward the most brightly illuminated center of the city.

The stars were brilliant overhead. Bonfires shaped like flower buds burned on the ground, and Myss could smell a mixture of roasted bread, grilled meat, and boiled fruit.

Faint music drifted from not far away.

Myss rose onto his toes and stretched his neck, spotting an enormous circular plaza.

The plaza was covered in dizzyingly complicated alchemical symbols. The formation resembled the ancient alchemical arrays Salaar used, but it was countless times more complex.

Because it had fallen into disrepair, cracks and missing pieces covered the stone paving. It was difficult to say whether the thing could still operate at all.

People danced and sang beneath the stars, trampling across the riddles of the past as they celebrated under the silver moonlight. Bright fruit peels and flower petals were scattered over the gray-white stones, burying ancient glory beneath colorful dust.

The moment Salaar saw one corner of the formation, his steps paused slightly, and the smile he wore for the performance faded.

“That is the Crimson Marsh’s greatest ruin, the Eye Plaza. It is one of the eyes Lord Blind God left upon this land. It sees through darkness and drives away the ill omens hidden in the night…”

Both of them unconsciously drifted toward the plaza.

Priest Garnet assumed they simply enjoyed lively scenes. He shook his head with a smile and extended an arm.

“Unfortunately, that’s not our destination. This way, please.”

He pointed toward a dilapidated ruin beside the Eye Plaza. Only two rows of crumbling round stone pillars remained.

The pillars had been carved from pure white marble. The normally dim moonlight flowed over them, making them strangely dazzling.

Long shadows stretched across the ground, lying diagonally over the gray-white surface in sharp contrast.

Myss followed the procession between the two rows of pillars.

Garnet extended both hands and began reciting an obscure incantation.

In an instant, the shadows between the stone pillars began rotating and splitting on their own.

Alternating strips of light and darkness interlocked, transforming into a staircase leading downward.

Myss hurriedly maintained his control spell while dilating his pupils to observe the unusual new magic. Dividing his attention so many ways made him stagger from side to side. He nearly tripped on flat ground directly in front of Salaar.

Salaar grabbed the back of his collar and pulled him upright. The young priests around them interpreted it as lovers flirting and laughed good-naturedly.

Only one person didn’t join in.

Salaar glanced from the corner of his eye and saw a familiar face.

It was the boy named Egan, the one who had escorted Earl back to his room. A perfectly measured, polite smile rested on his face. His steady gaze remained fixed on Salaar and Myss without the slightest ripple.

The look wasn’t sharp, yet it made the back of Salaar’s neck tighten. 

Salaar observed him for a moment but found nothing visibly wrong, so he calmly withdrew his gaze. He had a vague feeling that a storm was approaching.

He wondered whether Father Kalen had followed them.

Salaar stepped onto the staircase formed from bars of light and shadow without looking back again.

Myss finally finished analyzing the spell, and another fine layer of sweat covered his forehead. Maintaining control magic while casting other spells felt like dancing with two hundred kilograms strapped to his back.

Still, the experience was wonderfully novel. Given enough time, he would certainly grow accustomed to it. He could almost imagine the delightful scene.

Once he returned to the darkness and fought Salaar again, his terrifying magic combined with these new techniques would surely let him toy with Salaar until…

Snap. His imagination suddenly plunged into darkness.

A cold fact struck him.

If they both returned to their original bodies, Salaar would die immediately.

Salaar’s original body was far too old and damaged. Even though the Hero was so skilled in healing magic, he had ultimately been unable to save himself.

When that day came, Myss would never have another chance to fight him.

His new knowledge, his new techniques, his brilliant inventions would forever lose their one and only worthy opponent.

The joy he had felt moments ago, like sharpening a blade, instantly became hollow and tasteless.

Myss couldn’t help looking at Salaar again. At some point, the future he looked forward to had stopped being one of total silence. Salaar had to remain alive in the darkness Myss would personally create. Preferably alive with a defiant, irascible spirit.

That way, they could fight every so often just as they had before. Myss would beat Salaar until he was thoroughly convinced of his superiority.

It could continue like that until Myss finally lost all interest in him.

When was the last time he had eagerly imagined this man’s death?

The realization came so late that it stunned Myss. He didn’t even notice when they reached the bottom of the stairs. Only when Salaar poked him did Myss return to his senses.

A tall stone door covered in relief carvings stood before them.

Like the paving stones in the plaza, much of the relief had flaked away. Only crowded human figures and alchemical symbols mixed among them remained visible. Lamps filled with aromatic wood oil burned in the passage, their smell somewhat choking.

Under the bright firelight, Salaar silently looked up at the relief.

Behind them, the staircase of light and shadow had disappeared at some point, leaving only a sealed stone wall.

Priest Garnet stopped at the center of the great door and turned around with a solemn ceremony.

“Next, the two of you need only bathe, change clothes, and offer prayers to the Blind God. You may leave at daybreak. Once you are ready, I will personally escort you to the Chamber of Penance.”

“The Chamber of Penance?” Myss immediately caught a term he disliked.

“Please don’t be frightened by the name. We would never ask our honored guests to confess,” Priest Garnet hurriedly explained. “Once everything is complete, the Root Church will provide you with generous compensation in gold.”

Is that so? Myss remained doubtful.

If they weren’t required to confess, why call it a Chamber of Penance?

Prayer room or preparation room would both sound better.

At the rear of the procession, “Egan” stared intensely at the two of them. Suddenly, his eyes shifted toward a small mouse running past his feet.

Egan lowered his head. Within the shadows, he finally revealed a genuinely pleased smile.

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The author has something to say:

Myss: What do I do now that I’m finding it harder and harder to let go of my favorite cushion? [cat paw]

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