Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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

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Chapter 99: My Master

Myss suddenly realized that Salaar’s eyes had always been “full.”

Because at this moment, the smile and concern in Salaar’s eyes abruptly faded away, leaving them as empty as a lake after the wind had stopped.

Clearly, Salaar’s heart had grown younger, yet his eyes had lost a bit of their shine. They were actually seventy or eighty percent similar to the portrait in the entrance hall.

Salaar’s lapis-lazuli pupils shifted sharply, sweeping the entire room into his vision, then locking onto Myss. Salaar’s hand was still loosely grasping Myss’s wrist and hadn’t yet had time to let go.

“Magnolia, what did Kendrick promise you?”

Seeing Salaar’s “dazed” appearance, Owen immediately rushed to provoke him. “And here I thought you really weren’t interested in the family assets. What, did you have to drag this shit-stirring stick back here?”

Magnolia’s seat was fairly close to the main seat. Her fork paused slightly, then she lowered her eyes and nose, pretending she hadn’t heard anything.

“Roskart and Rosbeth are your own older brother and sister, and Nicholas is your own younger brother. Your whole family clearly wants him dead more than anyone. Even if you look down on me, your cousin, you should at least consider your brothers and sisters.”

Owen coughed twice and deliberately raised his voice, his gaze touching on Nicholas.

This “Knight of Balance” of the Church of Cadence gripped his knife and fork tightly, his knuckles white, his expression so dark one could wring water from it.

“Simply shameful.”

Nicholas said in a low voice. His knife and fork scraped across the smooth porcelain plate, making a sound that wasn’t loud but piercing.

Without raising her head, Mag swung her arm to the side and gave a sharp slap to the back of Nicholas’s head. “Eat quietly. Such a big slice of pie can’t keep your mouth shut?”

Facing a slap from his own older sister, the young knight stiffened his neck, but in the end didn’t dare make another sound.

At the main seat, that large old man was still slowly and methodically cutting his beef, ignoring the undercurrents around the table.

Seeing that “Kendrick Karns” remained strangely quiet, Owen recklessly continued, “Previously, when I wanted to bring a female companion to the family dinner, I still had to weigh whether she was worthy of entering this manor.”

“Now look. Kendrick brings a filthy slave into the house, and everyone becomes so understanding. I don’t see how he has changed at all. He still has no concern whatsoever for the family’s reputation—”

“Shut up.”

Salaar suddenly spoke, interrupting Owen’s endless chatter. His voice carried a full measure of command, as if he were training a dog.

Except for the main seat, everyone’s cutlery paused at the same time, and the room suddenly quieted.

At some unknown point, Salaar had raised his eyes.

There was no feigned anger or flamboyance in those eyes, only a chilling, almost inorganic scrutiny, as if Owen not far away wasn’t a living person, but an obstructive clothes rack.

Owen was silenced by that look and immediately buried his head.

Salaar withdrew his gaze with little interest, his fingertips moving lightly against the inside of Myss’s wrist.

He was like a wild beast that had just entered a new environment, quietly assessing the danger around him and silently observing himself through the reflection in his wine glass.

Perhaps because he had been holding Myss’s wrist when he first “woke,” Salaar now hovered close to Myss, neither near nor far, as if this small person were some extraordinary shelter.

This was not the first time their skin had been pressed together, yet for some reason, Myss felt that this time, the brush of body heat was especially satisfying.

“I want that meat pie.”

Myss started a conversation with great interest, jutting his chin toward the center of the long table. “You said you’d cut me half of every flavor.”

Salaar immediately nodded, his gaze shifting slightly, as if recalling something. Then he leaned forward and quietly, elegantly took a piece of meat pie, gently placing it on Myss’s plate.

Throughout the entire process, Salaar’s etiquette was flawless. Even a king wouldn’t have been able to pick out a mistake.

“This part should be river fish. It has the best flavor.” After taking the meat pie, Salaar explained in a low voice.

Salaar’s tone was extremely calm. Unfortunately, Myss understood this guy far too well and could hear the caution and testing beneath Salaar’s tongue.

He was assessing.

This young Salaar, who knew almost nothing of the current situation, was using Myss as the center point of an “alliance” and rapidly analyzing everything around him.

Look at that. A Salaar whose mental age was sixteen or seventeen and who knew almost nothing of the current situation. This was simply too interesting.

Myss took a bite of the meat pie. The river fish had been seasoned until soft, tender, fresh, and fragrant, and the pie crust was crisp and delicious. He ate in an excellent mood and cleared his throat with great mercy. “Not bad, ‘Kendrick.’”

Salaar’s movements paused. In only a few seconds, he seemed to understand the current situation, and his tense body relaxed slightly.

Myss seized the opportunity to rub Salaar’s head twice. Salaar didn’t dodge or avoid him, sitting properly in his chair.

Owen was left hanging to the side like this, and the pig-liver color on his face deepened. Unconvinced, he opened his mouth and still wanted to say something.

The old man at the main seat tilted his dinner knife and knocked the edge of his plate, neither lightly nor heavily. Owen immediately buried the head he had just lifted and swallowed food in large mouthfuls.

Fork silently crawled out of Myss’s pocket and slithered up along Salaar’s trouser leg. It deliberately slowed its movements, climbing all the way to Salaar’s collar.

The slippery sensation crawled across his skin, but Salaar’s body remained motionless, as if nothing had happened.

“Listen. You are currently playing Kendrick Karns, a cold-blooded lunatic with a few screws loose. You were hit with a potion that can regress a person’s mind to adolescence. Act like it, and don’t give us away.”

Fork hissed as it relayed Myss’s will, the tip of its tail stabbing Salaar’s solid shoulder.

“The person beside you is named Myss. You are disguising yourselves as lovers. He’s your partner, your master. You must obey his orders unconditionally.”

“The evidence is that there is an unbreakable alchemical contract between you. I’m one of the products of that contract…”

Salaar nodded with an extremely slight movement.

He stood up and took another piece of meat pie for Myss, his ears listening to every word as Fork described the current state of “Kendrick.”

When Myss tasted the fifth piece of meat pie, he encountered boar meat that he didn’t quite like. Although the meat had been seasoned with ample spices and stewed in wine, he still felt this kind of meat had a gamey smell.

So he pushed this piece of meat pie onto Salaar’s plate. Salaar lowered his head without a word of complaint and ate it clean.

At the same time, the servants nearby had already begun serving after-dinner desserts.

It was winter, and snow drifted sparsely outside the window. Karns Manor, however, was quite warm from heating magic devices, and dinner actually had milk ice cream mixed with berries.

Salaar looked for a while at the expensive ice cream scoops sprinkled with gold leaf, then looked at Myss eating with great gusto. Silently, he pushed the silver cup containing the ice cream in front of Myss.

If it were the normal Salaar, he would probably do something similar. Myss’s gaze scratched back and forth across Salaar’s face, only feeling that the situation was completely different.

The Salaar he was familiar with would have an expression of teasing plus provocation, as if feeding a domestic beast of prey.

Now, Salaar’s expression was more like… how should he put it? A little like a puppy fetching a thrown ball and pushing it into his palm.

Myss glanced at Owen sulking to himself, and for once, his eyes held a bit of appreciation. What a pity that the effect of this drug couldn’t last a lifetime.

However, young Salaar was too quiet. The one who always went head-to-head with him was obviously livelier. It was hard to imagine that such a calm guy would become the madman who frolicked wildly in the seal.

Myss stuffed a spoonful of ice cream into his mouth, then reluctantly scooped out a large spoonful without berries and fed it into Salaar’s mouth.

Salaar quietly swallowed it.

Exquisite and adorable desserts gradually filled the whole table. This should have been a time to relax, yet the atmosphere grew increasingly solemn. Finally, the old man sitting in the main seat cleared his throat. “Kendrick.”

“Yes, Grandfather.” Salaar rose in response, his movements still frighteningly precise.

“How do you intend to compensate for the shame you brought upon the family?”

There wasn’t much emotion in the old man’s voice. “A few good words from Magnolia aren’t enough to cancel your punishment.”

Owen’s expression calmed somewhat. He looked at Salaar almost encouragingly, hoping he would go mad on the spot. However…

“I understand, Grandfather.”

“I hope to prove my sincerity through action. Please assign me a task. Any task. I will do everything in my power to complete it and atone this way.”

Salaar’s tone was still unbelievably calm. Queenie, sitting opposite him, raised her brows slightly.

“Who are you acting for?” Owen was incredulous. “You lunatic. Who knows what intentions you have? You can’t even use magic. You just want to deliberately mess things up—”

Salaar treated him as if he didn’t exist and continued, “If you’re worried, send Peyton with me as my supervisor.”

“I cannot make dead slaves come back to life, but I still have time to compensate the older brother I harmed.”

“That attitude is rather rare.” The old man evaluated him expressionlessly.

As expected of Salaar. This development was completely within Myss’s predictions. Myss clicked his tongue and was just about to withdraw his attention when he saw the corner of Salaar’s mouth curve slightly.

There was no smile in that smile, and Myss abruptly had an ominous premonition.

“After all.”

In the next instant, Salaar’s voice gained a slightly roguish flavor. “These words are all what Lord Myss wanted me to say. With that contract in place, I must obey my ‘master.’”

Boom.

Everyone around the long table raised their heads in unison. Countless gazes stabbed Myss into a hedgehog. The old man in the main seat narrowed his eyes, and his gaze was even more like a spear, directly skewering Myss through.

Myss opened his mouth, and the ice cream on his spoon nearly fell onto the table.

What master? What nonsense was this kid suddenly saying? …No, wait, this kid had done it on purpose!

Young Salaar didn’t care at all about this “acting task,” nor did he treat him as some natural ally.

This kid’s greatest target had been Myss from the start. Now, with a single nudge from Salaar, all hostility and suspicion had been buckled onto Myss’s head.

Under the strong but useless intimidation of the humans’ gazes, Myss still insisted on stuffing that spoonful of ice cream into his mouth.

Even if those gazes were about to set his hair on fire, Lord Archdemon still pretended to be engrossed in his ice cream and forcibly didn’t say a single word.

“Kendrick, you’re simply beyond saving!” Owen was the first to react, shrieking loudly.

“As a member of the Karns family, you actually call a slave master? What kind of repentance is this?”

“I forgot to say, while I’m carrying out the task Grandfather gives me, all of you may continue hunting me.”

Salaar returned to that infuriating calm, his tone carrying an unquestionable force. “Only if I survive and complete the task will I have the qualifications to request that Grandfather revoke the kill order. Well? Are there any other objections?”

Owen’s words stuck in his throat. Nicholas, however, raised his head and looked at Salaar twice more.

“Peyton?” The old man turned toward Peyton, who was beside Nicholas.

“By the Father of Cadence, if Kendrick truly wishes to atone, I’m willing to accompany him as supervisor.” Peyton humbly lowered his head.

“Very well. As for that task—”

“Choose the most dangerous one. Only then can it make up for the damage I caused the family’s reputation.”

Salaar spoke again. It was difficult to tell whether his attitude was full of sincerity or deliberate provocation. “I only have one request. Please give me several options, so that I… and my master may have some room to choose.”

After speaking, he directly pushed his chair aside and stood.

“I have said what needed to be said. I’ll return to the room with Myss to rest. If I’m present for the following discussion, I fear it would be rather inconvenient.”

Just as Salaar finished the final word, Myss also happened to finish the last bite of ice cream.

Only after being dragged out of the dining room by Salaar, with no more prying eyes around them, did Myss shake off Salaar’s hand.

According to the original plan, Salaar should have used his clever tongue, relying on eloquence and acting skills to make that old man cancel the kill order. As a result, young Salaar had stuck his foot in sideways and taken on an enormous trouble for them.

Were they really going to do unpaid work for the Karns family? While other family members were still hunting him? …What kind of joke was that?

“Heal your heart, heal your heart!” Myss gritted his teeth and smacked Salaar’s chest.

“So that is how it is. An alchemical potion rooted in the heart. Healing the entire heart can eliminate the potion’s influence.”

Salaar revealed a thoughtful expression. “…However, allow me to refuse.”

Myss: “Why?!”

He faintly felt as though Salaar had tricked him.

“Because theoretically, I shouldn’t be here. I couldn’t possibly have a partner, and even less could I accept such a worthless sham of a mission like this.”

“But I have indeed formed a contract with you, so there’s only one possibility: you used the contract to control me and made me act together with you.”

Salaar shifted his gaze and once again revealed a deathlike calm.

“During the operation, I took the potion of my own accord for some reason. Since removing the drug’s effect would benefit you more, I won’t let you have your way.”

At this point, he stopped walking, his tone carrying absolute certainty.

“Without question, you are my enemy.”

---

The author has something to say:

Myss: [angry] [angry] [angry] (begins missing the Salaar he knows)

There’s no way to clean up the mess caused by curiosity now.

---

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

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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

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Chapter 98: Return to Youth

The instant he heard the scream, Myss shot out.

The two servants subconsciously stepped forward to stop him, but Myss leapt straight up and flew over their heads, charging directly toward the room where the scream had come from.

Only halfway through the jump did Myss belatedly notice something strange. That was Salaar. What could possibly happen to him?

It had to be because of their contract. The contract required him to ensure Salaar’s safety at all times. He was only afraid of violating the contract rules. Mm, that had to be it.

Myss landed as lightly as a feather, gliding across the mirror-bright marble floor and came to a halt at the doorway. The male servant at the door reached out to stop him, but unfortunately, he couldn’t stop Myss’s voice.

“Salaar!” Myss shouted.

The name Kendrick was truly awkward to say. In any case, Salaar had already explained the matter of a “false name” to his nominal cousin, so Myss would call him this.

A whole nest of humans with lapis-lazuli eyes, all pretending to be Salaar’s descendants, already made him unhappy. If he couldn’t even call the name “Salaar,” the Karns family would be promoted to his most hated human group.

“I’m fine.”

Salaar’s voice came from inside the door. Myss pricked up his ears and heard Salaar explaining things like “that is Myss” and “my lover.”

A moment later, with a creak, the heavy and beautiful oak door slowly opened, revealing Salaar’s face. To be precise, Salaar’s blood-stained face.

Myss swept his gaze over him. Salaar instinctively raised a hand and rubbed the blood on his face with the back of it.

“What happened?” Myss frowned.

“It’s a long story. Come in first.” The corner of Salaar’s mouth curved up, and he moved aside to let him enter.

The room was neither large nor small, and the decor was somewhat like a reception room. Only, the things placed on its coffee table weren’t tea sets and desserts, but several buzzing, oddly shaped magic devices, along with neatly arranged parchment and alchemical ink.

Useless Owen stood beside the table, his left palm pierced through by a sharp quill pen. He didn’t dare pull it out and could only hiss in place, his eyes full of tears from the pain.

The servants all lowered their heads. Only an old butler with a rectangular face and graying hair still kept his face raised, his wrinkled features full of helplessness.

Salaar explained considerately, “In fact, there are three parts to the examination: appearance, handwriting, and blood, to prevent impersonation or control.”

“I passed the first two. As for the third… it just so happens that I need your proof.”

His tone was very relaxed, as if his Cousin Owen were only a human-shaped ornament beside the table.

“There are traces of a magic contract on you, and it’s ancient alchemy!”

Owen shouted in grief and indignation. “You’re a controlled puppet, sneaking into the family in the name of repentance. You and that filthy whore slave of yours—”

Salaar turned toward the old butler. “Do you have any more quill pens? I see Mr. Owen’s right hand is a little empty.”

Owen snapped his mouth shut.

“But you must give a reasonable explanation, Young Master Kendrick,” the butler said carefully. “Ancient alchemy is difficult to measure. Before you attend the dinner, we must confirm that the contract on you is harmless…”

“The magic contract on me is the contract between Myss and myself.”

Salaar folded his arms and looked deeply at Myss.

“It stipulates that we must be honest with each other, protect each other, and accompany each other. Isn’t that right, Myss?”

Myss: “?”

Their contract did indeed require them to share information, ensure each other’s safety, and not leave without permission… But once Salaar’s mouth opened and closed, he said it almost like a marriage contract.

Yet, Myss couldn’t quite put his finger on what was wrong with the statement. So Myss could only nod in frustration and accept this ambiguous description.

The old butler quickly removed a small test tube from the intricately shaped magic device and signaled for Myss to hold it.

Myss mechanically took it. He saw the blood water in the test tube rapidly turn brilliant gold and emit a pleasant low hum. Golden specks of light circled his finger, like a ring forged from shattered light.

Another band of light extended toward Salaar and likewise loosely circled his finger.

“Perfect resonance. They are indeed the two parties to the contract.” The old butler breathed a sigh of relief, while Owen showed a very unconvinced expression.

Salaar pressed his advantage. “See? I told you long ago.”

“Myss was still a slave not long ago. Could he possibly use a contract to control me and make me act against the Karns family?” He stared at Owen as he said the latter half.

“Even if it’s a harmless contract, where did you get ancient alchemy?” Owen groaned in pain while clutching his bloody palm.

“Our relationship isn’t good enough for me to share such privacy with you.” Salaar shrugged.

Owen’s face flushed even redder. He was just about to say something when another knock came from the door.

“Everyone, move faster.”

Queenie’s voice came through the door. It was hard to say how long she had been standing there. “There’s piping hot multi-layered meat pie today. It won’t taste good if the filling gets cold.”

The old butler took the opportunity to stand between Owen and Salaar. “Young Master Owen, I’ll take you to have your wound bandaged.”

Owen couldn’t make trouble anymore. With a long face, he left the room first. Myss glanced contemptuously at his back and watched him and his Magibase groundhog disappear together.

“That kid came over to stir up trouble earlier. He wanted to provoke me so I would lose composure at the family dinner,” Salaar said.

“And then?”

“And then I lost composure in advance.”

Salaar pointed at the palm of his own left hand, the same place where Owen had just been pierced by the quill pen, his tone quite cheerful. “What a pity. I clearly fulfilled his wish, but he didn’t look happy at all.”

Myss looked speechlessly at the statue of Saint Salaar in the room. “I thought you were going to play the role of ‘repentant Kendrick.’”

“People can change, but not too much.”

Salaar said, “Kendrick Karns is a genuine bastard. I have no intention of turning him into some saint.”

Really?

Myss looked at Salaar’s sly and vivid expression, then thought of the lifeless portrait in the entrance hall.

Then how did you become a “saint,” Salaar?

……

The moment Myss entered the dining room, that trace of emotion instantly vanished into thin air.

For no other reason than that the multi-layered meat pie in the center of the table was truly spectacular.

The pie crust had been baked golden and crispy, and its aroma rushed into the nose. The meat pie was half a human head tall, square and neatly shaped, with layer stacked upon layer. The topmost layer even had Karns Manor carved into it.

Myss had only heard of this kind of thing in the hymns of bards.

It was said that the finest pure meat pies had at least three layers. The lowest layer used large pieces of venison, lamb, and veal. Chicken, duck, and goose occupied a layer of their own, and the top layer used tender river fish as filling.

The whole pie used large amounts of spices, and some nobles would even add whole small birds with the bones removed. This dish demanded extremely high family wealth, chef skill, and kitchen scale. It was undoubtedly a showpiece for great nobles to flaunt.

This giant pie even had magic cast on it. Snow-white magical little birds circled the tall meat pie, flying and chirping, scattering star-like white points of light.

The people seated by the long table, except Salaar, automatically became radishes and cabbages in Myss’s eyes.

He and Salaar sat somewhat far from the main seat at the long table, almost seated together with guests like Father Kalen. Myss didn’t care about humans’ boring status arrangements. He only stared curiously at the pie.

“Want some? Later I’ll cut you half of each flavor. That thing is very filling.”

Salaar spoke close to his ear. “If you don’t like the taste, just put it straight onto my plate.”

“Mm.” Myss said with satisfaction.

Although even if Salaar hadn’t said it, he had planned to do that anyway.

Salaar smiled. His palm covered the back of Myss’s hand and gently patted it.

“Contemptible guy.” A cold snort, neither light nor heavy, passed through the music and drifted to Myss’s ear.

Only then did Myss turn his head and look toward the person mocking them.

That person looked quite young and was sitting together with Salaar’s nominal older brother, Peyton. His appearance was more ordinary than Peyton’s, his brows were thick, his nose bridge somewhat high, and his build was one size sturdier than Peyton’s.

“That one is Nicholas, an elite knight of the Church of Candance.”

With the tablecloth as cover, the Dragon Fae poked his head out again. “He and Peyton are the same age, and they’re both clergy of the Church of Cadence. Their relationship is especially good. Publicly and privately, he especially hates Kendrick Karns.”

The “Mud Knight” who wanted to kill Salaar. Myss immediately matched him to the memory.

That kid’s Magibase was a black bear. It looked fairly fierce, but its size wasn’t very large. Compared to Peyton’s giant python, it was far inferior.

The dinner was about to begin. From the main seat at the far end of the long table came a low prayer. Everyone devoutly lowered their heads. Only Myss and Salaar still sat there openly, without any praying motion.

Naturally, no one managed them. Myss suspected that unless Salaar jumped onto the table right now and danced his self-composed dance, the others would be too lazy to care. Only Queenie’s gaze briefly swept over before quickly darting away.

After the short prayer, tasters holding silver knives and forks carefully tasted every dish and wine, then bowed to the main seat.

Sitting in the main seat was a tall, strong old man built like a bear. He solemnly looked forward and didn’t seem to intend to speak for the moment.

Myss casually glanced at him, then started looking at the meat pie again. Salaar should have gone to get the meat pie for him, but Salaar only studied the wine glass before him and didn’t move.

“Hey.” Myss tugged at the hem of his shirt.

“This is interesting.” Salaar stared fixedly at the knife and fork in front of him. “That Owen is rather desperate. He’s dead set on making ‘me’ embarrass myself.”

“What’s going on?”

“An alchemical potion, ‘Return to Youth.’ Someone smeared it on my cutlery.”

Salaar said, “This thing can make the user’s mind and memories return to sixteen or seventeen. Rich people like to use it for amusement. Looks like someone really wants ‘me’ to lose composure again.”

When Kendrick Karns was sixteen or seventeen, he had just been exiled, right at his most rebellious period. If the real Kendrick were sitting here and ate “Return to Youth,” who knew what kind of scene he would cause?

Even better, strictly speaking, this thing didn’t count as poison. It didn’t damage the body, and after the effect passed, memories from the period of change wouldn’t disappear.

To go against the grandfather’s will to “pause the kill order,” and to use such underhanded methods, at one glance it could only be that Useless Owen.

“In a bit, cooperate with me. I’ll deliberately knock down this cutlery…” Salaar leaned close and whispered in Myss’s ear.

“Do you want to try it?”

Myss asked, pretending to be absentminded. His gaze jumped wildly between Salaar’s face and the cutlery, his pupils practically swaying into afterimages.

The corner of Salaar’s mouth twitched. “?”

“I’m a little curious about your past. In the entrance hall, they hung such a huge portrait of you. I’ve never seen you with that kind of expression.”

Myss mumbled and lightly poked the back of Salaar’s hand with his fingertip, as if testing a tightly closed door. “In any case, we have the contract. I won’t do anything to you.”

Salaar lowered his gaze. The silver cutlery reflected his distorted face, and for a moment, Myss couldn’t understand his expression.

“But if sixteen- or seventeen-year-old you aren’t very useful, then forget it.”

Myss immediately added, “I wouldn’t create trouble for us at a time like this… Huh?”

Salaar suddenly smiled.

Myss had likewise never seen this kind of smile on Salaar. At this moment, this human with an aged soul seemed like a child who wanted to play a prank.

“You always come up with the most unexpected evil ideas at the most troublesome times.”

Salaar placed his own fork into Myss’s hand, then grabbed Myss’s wrist and guided him to spear the honey-cooked apple closest to them.

“Although I originally had a plan, your idea is more interesting. Let us try it.”

The sharp fork tines pierced into the soft fruit, and the juice shone. Myss’s eyes widened slightly, and his garnet-like eyes were likewise astonishingly bright.

“Really?” Salaar was actually willing to play along with his mischief?

“If something goes wrong, make me ‘heal my heart.’ Even without an antidote, I can dissolve the drug’s effect.”

Salaar quietly added this, his lips already touching the soft cooked fruit.

“Watch me carefully, Myss. Don’t play too far.”

Was this a reminder, or an entrustment? Or trust?

Although they were bound by the contract, Myss’s heart still jumped, and a numb, tingling illusion ran over his back, as if some fluffy and fragile creature had voluntarily placed its neck into his hand.

“I know.” Myss lowered his voice, his eyes shining even brighter.

While he was at it, he swept his peripheral vision around the room. The Mud Knight and the nominal older brother were quite peaceful. They ate silently, quietly waiting for the time to converse after the dinner.

Not far away, Owen was madly sneaking glances in their direction, afraid they would be unable to confirm the identity of the one who had drugged Salaar. Only, from Owen’s perspective, the two of them were now shamelessly feeding each other, their cheeks flushed from “love.”

Almost at the same time, Salaar withdrew his own spying gaze. He slowly opened his mouth and swallowed that small piece of honey-cooked apple.

Gulp.

Salaar’s throat bobbed slightly. Myss and Owen swallowed almost at the same time, their expectant gazes sticking firmly to Salaar.

The hand Salaar had wrapped around Myss’s wrist abruptly relaxed. His fingertips trembled almost imperceptibly. His expression went dazed for an instant, and even his body swayed slightly.

The next second, he blinked, and his gaze completely changed.

---

The author has something to say:

Myss: Curiosity is so super satisfied that I actually forgot about the meat pie. [cat paw]

Young Saint Salaar is about to appear! [OK]

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

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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

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Chapter 97: Giant Python

Myss sank deep into the hotel sofa.

This hotel had been arranged by Lady Mag.

A fireplace crackled in the hearth, making the air feel as warm as an embrace. The sofa was as soft as a cloud, and the fabric was comfortable velvet. Myss wished he had no bones, so that he could melt into it more perfectly.

“If you dare lie to your cheap cousin, you might as well tell that whole family the truth.”

Compared to attending the Karns family dinner, Myss would much rather lie here and idle away.

That whole nest of humans surnamed Karns seemed to have fairly high status. They should have some brains. Since his nominal cousin was this perceptive, his nominal grandfather presumably wouldn’t be too bad either.

“No. If Mag hadn’t taken the initiative to intrude into the Sea of Concepts, I wouldn’t even have told her. The more people know, the more variables there are. V.O.R definitely has eyes here.”

Salaar was busy cutting fabric with scissors. The blades smoothly parted the satin, making soft rustling sounds. Several needles floated beside him, hurriedly threading themselves.

Myss was too lazy to argue with him about this. He flipped himself over, turning his back toward Salaar. His braid slid down along the curve of the sofa, the end sweeping the carpet comfortably.

At this moment, there were only him and Salaar in the room. The Dragon Fae considered himself half a native of the capital and had taken Kalen to buy clothes and jewelry. Fork and Knife were lying together on the soft cushion of the sofa armrest, sleeping soundly.

Myss blinked. His vision was sometimes clear and sometimes blurry. The burgundy velvet melted before his eyes, and his breathing grew slow and deep…

“All right, get up.”

Salaar’s wicked hands reached over and shook Myss’s arm.

“No.” Myss hugged a cushion tightly and said drowsily.

“Get up and try on the clothes.” Salaar grabbed Myss by the back of his collar and directly lifted him into a sitting posture. “I need to see if anything needs altering.”

“Why not let the priest buy them together? Why do you have to make them yourself?” Myss complained as he turned around.

“There isn’t much time. If we buy at the last minute, we can only buy ready-made clothes. With Kendrick’s personality, he would definitely like something custom-made.” Salaar explained solemnly.

Myss didn’t believe him.

Would someone like Kendrick really go out of his way to wear matching outfits with his “lover”?

Salaar had made him a small navy-blue cape, paired with a white shirt and a garnet bow tie. His trousers were also gray-black with a layer of blue to them.

There were no exaggerated ruffles or complicated embroidery. Salaar had even specially left a small pocket for the pocket watch where Tass resided.

Salaar himself wore a long navy-blue formal coat, also paired with a white shirt and garnet bow tie. The brooch Myss had given him was openly pinned to his chest, as if it had been born to be an accessory for this outfit.

The two sets of clothes were low-key, dignified, and tasteful, with almost exactly the same style.

Myss lazily stood up, dissolved the magic fabric on his body, and let Salaar dress him.

One had to say, the Great Hero’s tailoring was frighteningly precise. Myss practically suspected this outfit had also been made with magic.

Salaar understood his measurements far too well. The fabric gently rubbed against his body, and the garnet bow tie tightened with a rustle. The slight sense of suffocation sobered Myss for an instant.

“Not bad.”

Salaar cleared his throat and admired the result of his design.

After looking for a while, he felt it still wasn’t enough. “I’ll comb your hair. The ribbon isn’t tied straight enough.”

Myss gave a drowsy “mm” and fell back onto the sofa.

Salaar loosened his hair and gently combed it with a brush. The air was warm, and the comb teeth brushed over his scalp with neither too much nor too little force. In his daze, Myss had the feeling of being licked by a giant beast.

During the more than three hundred years inside the seal, Salaar hadn’t even bothered to take care of his own hair, let alone be close to other humans. When this guy had still been in the human world, had he ever treated other humans with such care?

This feeling was too comfortable, so comfortable that for an instant, Myss doubted whether Salaar truly longed for his death.

However, that thread of suspicion was quickly swallowed by his sleepiness and left no trace.

Before falling asleep, Myss turned his body and exposed half his face. In this posture, he could smell Salaar’s scent and see Salaar’s figure.

This way, when he closed his eyes, he could imprison the warmth of this moment, along with Salaar himself, behind his eyelids.

Myss let out a low, sleepy murmur and sank into sleep.

……

Serpentia, a certain secret room.

“Salutations to Mr. Tenney, and salutations to all the ordinary.”

Kai removed his hat, pressed it to his chest, and solemnly bowed toward the communication magic device.

“This Divine Realm also involved Kendrick Karns and that slave named Myss. Your report is very valuable, Mr. Kai. This is their fourth time intervening in a Divine Realm.”

An androgynous voice came from the communication magic device. One could tell at once that it had been processed through magic.

“We lost one Divine Blood Puppet. Jocelyn’s memory was interfered with, and she lost the memories related to the battle.”

Kai’s expression relaxed slightly. “Ah, so a Divine Blood Puppet was wasted just like that? Those things are very expensive. Help me tell Jocelyn to mourn it, and while you’re at it, tell her not to get any ideas about mine.”

Then he paused. “As far as I know, those two seem to be attending the Karns family dinner. I’m guessing they want the Karns family to cancel the assassination… How does the higher-up plan to handle this?”

“According to the report, those two may be Divine Attendants of an unknown god. Before the investigation is clear, we’ll temporarily refrain from acting.”

Kai smiled helplessly. “Before the apocalypse, all sorts of demons and monsters really are crawling out.”

“However, ‘That One’ believes the god behind them may not necessarily be the one we are wary of. So far, they are not enemies of the Stargazers Society.”

“The one you should convince is Jocelyn, not me. I’m not the one who lost my Divine Blood Puppet.” Kai shrugged. “What other instructions does ‘That One’ have? Say them all at once.”

“They have noticed your existence. Starting today, you are to be transferred out of the Aufon Kingdom and make a trip to the Crimson Marsh in Mondicia.”

“All right, all right. Looks like my comfortable days are over,” Kai said unhappily.

“Don’t take that attitude. This is a crucial mission. According to That One, Mondicia still has surviving records of the ‘Celestial Canopy.’”

“I understand.” Kai’s relaxed demeanor instantly vanished, replaced by an unprecedented seriousness.

The next night, Karns Manor.

Salaar jumped down from the carriage first. Immediately afterward, he turned and helped the listless Myss down.

The two were wearing the formal outfit sets specially made by Salaar. They also had a few gemstone accessories personally chosen by Tass, which were currently fashionable in the capital. Salaar had an extra pair of garnet earrings on his ears, while Myss had a single lapis-lazuli ear cuff on his ear, matching quite well with his formalwear.

The last to get off the carriage was Father Kalen. He still wore plain priestly robes, only symbolically pinning on a brooch inlaid with an aquamarine gemstone.

Rather than decoration, that thing looked more like a backup hiding place provided for Tass.

“To think Magnolia actually spoke up for you. Don’t tell me you caught some weakness of hers?”

A hostile voice shot over.

Myss unhappily raised his eyes and looked toward the owner of the voice.

That person also had black hair and blue eyes. His features were decent enough, but when combined together, they somehow felt inexplicably awkward.

He appeared to be under thirty. There was the greenish shadow of physical weakness beneath his eyes, and his mouth sprayed the stink of alcohol. Even the high-grade perfume on his body couldn’t cover that smell.

Behind him stood two tall and burly male servants. The servants were quite sturdy, which only made him, their master, look like an over-pickled radish.

“My former employer, Owen.”

Tass poked his head out of the pocket watch on Myss’s chest and introduced him with deep feeling. Before Owen noticed him, the Dragon Fae zipped his head back in.

Oh, it was that “Good-for-Nothing” who wanted Salaar dead.

Seeing him in the flesh, the man was pathetically weak, completely unqualified to complete with him for Salaar’s life. Owen’s Magibase was a fat groundhog, peeking around at Owen’s feet.

Myss wrinkled his nose and looked away, thoroughly uninterested.

“Good evening, dear Cousin Owen.”

Salaar bared his teeth and forcefully wrapped an arm around Myss’s shoulders. “Yes, Cousin Mag was willing to vouch for me. After all, like eyesight, wisdom isn’t something everyone possesses.”

Owen: “…”

Owen: “Even if you can deceive Mag, you won’t fool Grandfather. You piece of trash who ruined the family’s reputation, I’ll kill you sooner or later.”

Salaar looked surprised. “Wouldn’t the longer I live, the more it proves your incompetence? Then I guess I’ll live to a hundred.”

Owen’s face, which had already been reddish, swelled to the color of pig liver. He glared viciously at Salaar. Then his gaze shifted, and his eyes lit up.

“Long time no see, Peyton!” he deliberately shouted very loudly.

Myss subconsciously turned his head and saw a figure approaching on foot.

Peyton… Peyton… It sounded a little familiar. He seemed to be this shell of Salaar’s older brother by the same father and mother.

Tonight, the moonlight was bright, and many magic streetlights had been installed near the manor. Under the bright illumination, Myss saw him unusually clearly.

This Peyton was similar in height to “Kendrick,” and their appearances were five or six parts similar.

But his features were more mature and gentler. His remaining left eye was like a dark-blue deep pool, and that air of compassion was a little like the “Saint Salaar” imagined by humans in religious paintings.

Peyton’s right eye wore an eyepatch made of black cloth. The eyepatch was embroidered with the divine emblem of the Church of Cadence. It looked like a four-petaled flower, or like two human eyes crossing in a cross shape while sharing one pupil.

He wore a monk’s robe similar to Father Kalen’s. That black robe was even longer than Kalen’s, almost hanging down to his ankles. The robe was quite old, and the cuffs had slight fraying, but it had been washed clean and gave off a faint scent of soap.

Myss swept his gaze over him, and his brows slightly twitched.

Peyton’s Magibase was an exceptionally powerful giant python, a full either meters long.

It slowly slithered beside Peyton, its body as thick as a plate and full of a sense of power, making Fork in his pocket look like a thin bean sprout.

No wonder Kendrick had grown so jealous that he attacked this older brother. Peyton’s Magibase was astonishingly large, and could even compare with Roman after he became the “Prisoner of Dreams.” He might very well be a magical genius too.

In short, he looked like the antithesis of “Kendrick Karns.”

Hearing Owen’s greeting, Peyton smiled faintly and nodded toward Owen. “Long time no see, Owen.”

Then he turned his head slightly and looked at Salaar, who had raised his brows. “Long time no see, Kendrick.”

Peyton’s voice was steady and unruffled, as if the two blood relatives were equally close to him, and equally distant.

“Honestly, you walked over again.” Owen’s tone carried exaggerated enthusiasm. “How far is that church of yours? Hiring a carriage isn’t expensive.”

“And Father, don’t stand at the door. Come in and have some tea.”

He placed one arm around Peyton’s neck and waved one hand toward Father Kalen, pretending that Salaar and Myss not far away were only two clumps of air.

Salaar didn’t mind at all. He tilted his head toward the brightly lit manor. “Let’s get going too.”

“…Pay more attention to that Peyton.”

Myss hissed, “His Magibase is an enormous python. I suspect he’s a genius.”

Seeing that Salaar had no particular reaction, he couldn’t help adding, “Why aren’t you surprised at all?”

“I’m guessing Kendrick’s mother wouldn’t drink Divine Blood for no reason. Either Peyton, her eldest son, was extremely mediocre and made her uneasy, or Peyton was unusually outstanding and made her believe she was special, special enough to give birth to a true Child of Divine Blood.”

“Judging from Peyton’s bearing just now, he’s definitely not useless.”

“That’s right. Things are more or less as you guessed. Peyton is indeed a genius, but he’s wholeheartedly devoted to god and unwilling to follow the path of an Archmage, angering your grandfather quite badly.”

Seeing that no one was around, the Dragon Fae poked his head out of the pocket watch again and shared the gossip with great relish.

“If Peyton had been willing to walk the path of magic, combined with the support of the Karns family, he should have become the proud disciple of an Archmage by now.”

“With such good talent, did the Church of Cadence not value him?” Salaar asked curiously.

Tass: “The Church of Cadence couldn’t do anything either. Peyton himself chose the path of ascetic practice, staying far from power, so his ceiling is just that.”

At this point, the Dragon Fae couldn’t help but let out a chuckle. “How very much in the spirit of Saint Salaar, ahaha.”

Myss: “…”

Saint Salaar absolutely didn’t have the spirit of deliberately suffering when there was no need to suffer. That kid dared to sing songs before thinking through the melody, and when he saw delicious food, he would absolutely go back for seconds. Give the hero so much as a pole, and he would climb faster than anyone.

Myss was bored listening, so he turned to look at this manor, which could be considered luxurious.

This place was nearly as large as the United Library. It had broad courtyards filled with carefully trimmed flowers, plants, and hedges. The murmuring sound of fountains refreshed the spirit.

Every few steps, there were lamps equipped with lighting magic devices. The lighting was arranged perfectly, making the entire space bright and lively without seeming empty at all.

Owen dragged Peyton ahead in large strides, and their figures were already smaller than thumbs. Father Kalen, however, slowed his steps, eventually returning to their side.

“I did a divination. On my side, there’s nothing ominous tonight.”

He said somewhat apologetically, “But judging from the current situation… I’m an outsider, so this result probably has limited reference value.”

Facts proved that Father Kalen was right.

The moment the group entered the main entrance, Father Kalen was invited away by a maid, who said that non-family members had special arrangements. Salaar was also taken away by a male servant, supposedly to “verify his identity” and see whether there was any possibility of someone impersonating him.

Myss was nominally Salaar’s lover and counted as half a “family member,” so he remained in the entrance hall to wait for Salaar’s return.

At this moment, his gaze was firmly attracted by the enormous portrait of Salaar in the entrance hall.

Unlike the processed portraits in the United Library, this painting was closer to the Salaar in Myss’s memories. The painter’s technique was excellent. That face was practically exactly the same as the one in Myss’s impression.

…Only, it lacked a little vitality.

Even the gloomy and dejected Salaar doll from the Sea of Concepts hadn’t looked this lifeless. Could it be that Salaar had eaten something bad on the day this portrait was painted? Myss thought seriously.

“Good evening, darling.” A woman’s voice came from behind him.

Myss turned his head. Oh, the familiar black hair and blue eyes again. Another Karns.

“Queenie.”

The woman wore a beautiful lapis-lazuli mermaid dress, her long curly hair lazily scattered. “Gray hair and red eyes. Kendrick’s taste is indeed particular… You must be Kendrick’s lover, that ‘Myss’?”

Myss reluctantly gave an “mm” and immediately turned his head, continuing to admire the enormous portrait of Salaar.

Judging by her name, she wasn’t one of the people who wanted to kill Salaar, so he had no interest at all.

Honestly, Myss didn’t want to communicate with these humans who had Salaar’s eyes. For some reason, he always felt that they had stolen Salaar’s eye color, and that thought made him rather unhappy.

“You like this painting?” Queenie didn’t let him go.

Myss didn’t turn around. “No.”

“You’re quite direct.” Queenie’s voice gained a few hints of amusement. “Very few guests dare to say they don’t like this painting in front of us. If other Karns were here, they would definitely be offended by you.”

“As it happens, I don’t like this painting much either… Why don’t you like it?”

Only then did Myss turn his head and glance at Queenie again.

“Because he looks like he has no vitality at all,” he muttered softly.

“An interesting perspective.”

Queenie tapped her chin with her fingertips. “I simply feel this painting is cold, like it was never finished. If the real Salaar was like this, then he must have lived in great pain.”

“Pain.” This word stabbed Myss.

…If that was the case, he should love this painting tremendously.

Yet when he saw that corpse-like Salaar, Myss couldn’t squeeze out even the slightest joy.

In Myss’s imagination, even if Salaar were in overwhelming agony, that person should carry a twisted smile, like he had at the end of his life in the seal.

Something was wrong. Myss thought until his head grew dizzy. Perhaps the temperature in the entrance hall was a little high, steaming him muddleheaded.

“How long does checking his identity take?” He moved his gaze away from that damned painting and spoke stiffly. “Salaar has already been gone for thirteen minutes and fourteen… fifteen seconds.”

“Family tradition, darling.” Queenie’s eyes crinkled. “Especially for ‘Kendrick Karns.’ He has been away from home for far too long. However…”

Before she finished speaking, a man’s scream abruptly exploded from not far away.

---

The author has something to say:

The long-awaited couple’s outfits make their debut! [OK] [cat paw]

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

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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

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Chapter 96: The Family Dinner

Damn it. Salaar had noticed.

That bite was deep and ruthless, and the subtle sensation quickly blurred, dispersing uncontrollably. Myss felt like he had been having an unprecedentedly beautiful dream, just about to reach the most crucial part, only to be cruelly dragged back to reality by Salaar.

Myss tried hard to ignore the pain, attempting to seize the remnants of that feeling. However, before he had time to close his eyes, Salaar’s hand slipped into his clothes and pressed forward.

This attack brought not only pain, but also the suffocation of a kiss and the shivers that raced across his skin wherever Salaar’s palm grazed him.

Without a doubt, this was an attack.

This kind of attack was even deadlier than simple pain. Pain only needed to be endured, but Myss didn’t know how to deal with desire. Under the storm of sensation, he had no choice but to concentrate his mind, unable to spare even the strength to resist.

…Until Salaar’s hand took full control of him and kept stroking.

This completely shattered Myss’s concentration. He leaned back, panting, and escaped from the unending kisses.

“You cunning—scheming—mmph—”

Before he could finish a single sentence, Salaar forcibly pressed him back down.

Myss seemed to have been locked inside a cage made of flesh and blood. One of Salaar’s hands pressed hard against his back, while the other hand did something entirely opposite.

Their lips and teeth tangled, and waves of white spots flashed before Myss’s eyes. He nearly suspected this guy was trying to suck all the oxygen out of his lungs to prevent him from thinking.

In his daze, he saw the brilliant golden light flickering around Salaar. His sense of touch was amplified a hundredfold for no reason, and Myss’s brain was nearly cooked into mush.

…This guy truly was skilled at mental magic.

The flash of inspiration from just now had, in this moment, become ice melted into hot syrup.

When Myss tried to recall that subtle state of mind, or the feeling of the ink hole, all that surfaced in his mind were thrills of pleasure that made his hair stand on end.

He had no idea whether it was simple memory interference, or whether Salaar had used some kind of magic. Myss was only certain of one thing: the door he had almost pushed open had now turned into an icy wall, without even a crack left for him.

He had clearly been so close!

Myss was furious about losing it. But he was a little surprised to discover that he wasn’t as enraged as he had imagined. It was like… like he also didn’t want everything to end here.

It had to be because of curiosity. It was definitely because he was modest and eager to learn and didn’t want to stop halfway in confusion. Myss bit Salaar’s lips to vent his anger, until he tasted blood.

He couldn’t swallow this loss in silence. He had to make Salaar pay the price.

Myss tightened the hands gripping Salaar’s shoulders, leaving deep blood marks. The kiss became a pure and scorching plunder. He wasn’t the only one whose body had changed.

Myss deliberately pressed closer. He wanted to see how Salaar would manage when one of Salaar’s hands was restraining him, and the other was pleasuring him.

As a result, just when Myss was on the verge of losing control, only the slightest bit away from release, Salaar finally gave up those intermittent kisses. He licked his bloodstained lips and smiled at Myss.

Immediately after, the hand he had wrapped around Myss lightly stroked over Myss’s spine with its fingertips.

“Borrow.”

Poof!

The tiny Salaar doll appeared where Salaar had been a moment ago.

Caught off guard, Myss suddenly had nothing beneath him and steadied himself rather awkwardly. He glanced at his embarrassing physical condition and almost drew out the same word in exasperation.

With another soft “poof,” there was one more doll on the chair.

…Great. Now the abnormalities in both their bodies vanished on the spot, and the clothes he’d just woven was completely pointless.

“You absolutely did that on purpose!”

The naked Myss doll rushed forward and pinned the Salaar doll against the chair back, both hands clamping hard around the other’s nearly nonexistent neck.

“That’s right.” The Salaar doll tilted his head. “You know, I have always been like this, constantly watching you, constantly guarding against you.”

“Your methods of ‘guarding’ are becoming more and more varied.” Myss wanted nothing more than to open his mouth and bite Salaar’s face but feared he wouldn’t be able to curse if his mouth was occupied.

Salaar tilted his head to the other side. “I more or less guessed what you were thinking. That was too dangerous. I had to seal it off.”

Salaar looked utterly calm, but Myss could tell that his cotton body was still slightly tense. Clearly, for Salaar, that moment just now had truly been dangerous.

If their bodies in the human world hadn’t been equally matched, Salaar might not have been able to stop him just now. The urgent task remained to reclaim the Abnormal Fruit as quickly as possible, the power that had originally belonged to him.

Having thought this through, Myss felt a little better.

He was too lazy to fuss over things that could no longer be recovered. The war between him and Salaar was still ongoing. He had to keep moving forward.

…But Salaar was still infuriating!

After thinking it over repeatedly, Myss finally bit Salaar’s face. The two cotton dolls wrestled together, rolling from the still-warm chair onto the floor, then bouncing with little cries toward the foot of the bed.

On the wall, the portrait of Saint Salaar remained silent. The swaying light swept across the figure’s face, but couldn’t give the portrait even a trace of life.

At dinner, Lady Mag actually came to deliver the food herself.

She brought canned beef stewed in red wine, cream-braised mixed vegetables, and freshly baked white bread. Aside from those, she had also brought some cheerful-looking oranges and two bottles of fine wine. In short, it was a lavish dinner that absolutely shouldn’t appear in a confinement room.

“My superiors have been informed of the Sea of Concepts. Within three days, the United Library will open again.”

She spoke with incomparable respect, as if the ones before her weren’t two dolls tangled together, but two kings.

“In addition, I sent a letter to Grandfather, saying that you two will attend the family dinner at the end of the month, and that you have important matters to discuss then. Sir Tass Ga and Father Kalen can also go with you.”

“I am vouching for ‘Kendrick Karns’ personally. Before the family dinner begins, the assassinations targeting you two should pause.”

“Wu id ery vell,” Salaar said indistinctly, because Myss’s cloth hand was aggressively stuffed over his mouth.

“Only pause?” Myss clamped both legs around one of Salaar’s thighs and continued strenuously pulling at Salaar’s head.

“Grandfather is quite shrewd. My relationship with Kendrick is poor, so I can’t say too many good things on his behalf.”

The corner of Lady Mag’s mouth twitched as she struggled to maintain her expression. “Ahem, I apologize. I can only obtain a few days of peace for you two.”

“Enuff,” Salaar struggled to say.

“Then I won’t disturb you two any longer.” Mag maintained a dignified smile and almost flew backward out of the room.

Two days later.

“Kendrick Karns” and his “lover” left Lady Mag’s confinement room. “Kendrick” still bore flamboyant claws and bite marks, making onlookers shake their heads.

For most people in the United Library, these two were only two unlucky souls accidentally swept into trouble, wasting quite some time in the confinement room.

In truth, these two unlucky souls hadn’t wasted a single moment.

Salaar had developed an entirely new way to use “dollification.”

He added the words “Borrow” and “Return” to his ruby brooch and Myss’s hair ribbon, respectively. Of course, each was written in their own handwriting.

This way, they no longer had to spend time and effort tracing out the words again and again. They only needed to tap those two items directly. The only price Myss had to pay was tying the end of his hair in front.

For combat efficiency, Myss endured it.

In any case, over the past two days, he had discovered something even more extraordinary.

In Mag’s office.

“I must take this book with me.” Myss raised that copy of ‘Brave Salaar’.

Mag immediately nodded. What a joke. She didn’t want to keep something that belonged to Divine Attendants of the Chaos Archdemon.

“Will that be all right?”

Tass, who had truly enjoyed two days of vacation, said, “Dollification aside, this thing wasn’t normally connected to a Divine Realm in the first place. If you take it too far away, won’t it stop working?”

“I have a way to make it keep working,” Myss said, rather displeased.

During these two idle days, he had done some experiments with his own blood, wanting to reproduce the moment of epiphany from two days ago. Regrettably, his memories of that period had grown increasingly blurry, though Myss did manage to research something else.

After countless failures, Myss had become proficient at soaking magic into inanimate objects so it could remain there for a long time without damaging the object. The effect was much better than crude Divine Blood contamination.

He could use this method to create a backdoor into the “Sea of Concepts.”

However, doing this every time was far too troublesome, and it was hard to say whether the United Library would notice. So Myss decided to use an already existing “backdoor,” that damn children’s picture book.

“You want to take us away from here?” Brief poked his head out of the picture book.

“Yes, and you won’t disappear. That stick figure Mag won’t disappear either,” Myss said proudly. “This way, she can report to us at any time—”

“Communicate. Communicate with us.”

Salaar corrected Myss in time. He half-crouched and looked at Brief and Bedsheet Archdemon on the desk.

“After leaving here, we’ll have more and even better adventures. I imagine you’d like that.”

“Wawawoo~” Bedsheet Archdemon spun around happily.

“Of course we’ll like it! Our story hasn’t had a sequel in ages.” Brief’s little dot eyes sparkled. “Bedsheet and I both want to go see other places!”

“Aowah, aowawawa!” Bedsheet Archdemon called along with him.

“Bedsheet says that as thanks, he can also take you flying,” Brief hurriedly translated.

“Then I’ll thank you in advance.” Salaar stretched out a fingertip and bumped fists with Brief.

Bedsheet Archdemon got tired from frolicking and lightly slipped back into the picture book. Brief bowed to the two of them and also squeezed his thin body into the pages.

Myss held the book up and discovered that Mag had specially made it a hardcover leather cover, giving it a quite proper look.

In a certain sense, this should count as one of the strongest magic artifacts currently in existence.

Sure enough, good things still had to be created by his own hands. Myss hugged the book in satisfaction, thinking about whether to buy a backpack or let the priest carry it. Anyway, the priest had always helped them carry things.

“Hm? Where’s the priest?” Only now did Myss realize Father Kalen wasn’t in the room.

“These two days, Mr. Kalen has been investigating historical materials on the Stargazers Society.”

Mag said, “Rest assured, the Stargazers Society’s history isn’t especially long, and all the materials are in the non-restricted book area. His behavior isn’t conspicuous. Unfortunately, the materials are too disorganized. If only…”

If only Mr. Tenney were still here.

Her gaze dimmed for an instant. Immediately after, that dimness was replaced by some harder emotion.

“In another day and a half, it will be the date of the Karns family dinner.”

She nodded toward Salaar and Myss. “I have already written a reference list of things to pay attention to and items that need to be purchased.”

“Private items such as formalwear are inconvenient for me to prepare on your behalf, so please purchase them yourselves. The recommended shops are also on that list.”

Fine. Another boring human social activity.

Lord Archdemon discovered that he would rather turn into a doll again than deal with Salaar’s fake descendants. Maybe he should simply say he had fallen ill and let Salaar attend the dinner while carrying his dollified self. The front breast pocket position would be perfect, with an open field of view.

“In addition, I will also attend that day.”

Mag was completely unaware of this “Divine Attendant’s” escape plan. “If things take a turn for the worse, I’ll do my best to mediate for you two.”

“Understood.”

Salaar replied solemnly. Then he raised his brows and gave Myss a meaningful look.

“When the time comes, my Myss and I will definitely be there.” When he reached the second half of the sentence, he deliberately emphasized his voice.

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

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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

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Chapter 95: A Flaw in the Seal

“Oh, a Divine Attendant of the Chaos Archdemon… What? Who???”

If not for her sheer rationality holding her back, Mag would have nearly flown out of the confinement room on the spot. She looked several times at the hanging portrait of Saint Salaar before she barely managed to steady herself.

“A Divine Attendant of the Chaos Archdemon,” Salaar repeated leisurely.

If not for the face sewn from cotton cloth, Myss absolutely wouldn’t have been able to control his expression. Many emotions surged up at once, and his face honestly chose the most obvious among them.

The Myss doll split his mouth open, smiling with great satisfaction.

He had thought Salaar would use his clever tongue to find an excuse and skip over this topic or make up some nonexistent god. Myss squeezed Salaar’s cotton body and hummed in satisfaction.

“…The Chaos Archdemon bears no malice toward the human world. The Night Scourge is merely His breathing.”

Facing the dumbfounded Lady Mag, Salaar calmly continued, “Salaar and his companions sealed His Divine Realm, forcing Him to hold His breath.”

“From the dimension of a god, He is actually quite young. We only wish to collect the power He has lost, so that He may grow up sooner and leave… In this way, the world will welcome eternal peace.”

A lie.

Myss withdrew the smile on his face.

Both of them knew that Myss’s freedom meant the destruction of the entire world.

Salaar had concealed the most crucial part. The moment Myss breathed again, an unprecedented Night Scourge would descend upon the world, and the magic of annihilation would devour everything.

That wasn’t even mentioning the physical destruction brought by Myss’s true body. In the worst case, the earth would be corroded and shattered, and the entire planet would become riddled with holes, or even cease to exist.

And as long as Myss survived, there would always come a moment when he breathed again.

Mag clearly didn’t buy it outright. She gave a dry chuckle. “I understand. So that’s why you two are interested in things like ‘Divine Blood.’”

A faint trace of wariness appeared in the way she looked at them, but she wasn’t insane to antagonize the pair right then and there.

“In any case, since you two are willing to clear away anomalies for the human world, our interests are aligned.”

“I hope the misunderstanding between us can be resolved soon, and that peace will arrive as early as possible.” The Salaar doll smiled.

Then the two sides exchanged a few polite pleasantries. Lady Mag left in a flurry, saying she needed to make a report. Salaar, using “wanting to find a quiet place to rest” as his reason, remained in the confinement room.

The moment Mag closed the door, the Myss doll grabbed the Salaar doll by the collar. “You realy are something, Great Hero. One moment you’re acting pitiful in front of me, and the next you’re spreading the ‘truth of the Night Scourge’?”

Myss hadn’t expected this guy to be able to show weakness to him while also stabbing him in the back right in front of him.

With just a few sentences, Salaar had informed Mag of the Chaos Archdemon’s condition. As for the part about peaceful coexistence, only a three-year-old child would believe that, and Mag was clearly not a three-year-old.

“She won’t spread the news on her own initiative.”

Salaar was being held by the collar by the Myss doll, but he didn’t panic at all.

“Mag knows nothing about Divine Attendants. Even Professor Gentry, an Archmage, didn’t act rashly. She’s a clever person, so it’s even less possible for her to expose us without considering the consequences.”

“She will only do everything she can to maintain a cooperative relationship with us, secretly observe our movements, and use us to remove troublesome Divine Realms for humanity… Obtaining more Abnormal Fruit, isn’t that what you want too?”

Myss silently studied Salaar.

“And I think, as a member of the Karns family, she will work even harder to investigate the body-swap ritual.”

“Her blood relative caused a great disaster, and she’s clearly quite proud of being a ‘descendant of Saint Salaar.’ She will believe she bears a tremendous responsibility for this… A top researcher from the United Library who understands the Karns family helping us investigate the body-swap ritual. That’s also in your interest.”

Salaar’s lapis-lazuli button eyes looked down at him, and his words almost carried a seductive allure.

“All right. I don’t hate fair competition.”

Myss finally let go of him. “This was a decent move.”

If Salaar lost his spirit, or worst yet, if he turned into a blind traitor because of love, Myss would instead feel disappointed. More than that, this move of Salaar’s had been executed openly and with integrity. Myss had to think of an even more beautiful response.

The Myss doll stood up and paced back and forth on the tabletop with little pattering footsteps.

Salaar took the chance to stand up and test the various limits of “dollification.”

He soon discovered that even without paper and ink, as long as they traced the words “Borrow” and “Return” in midair, they could change form.

Before the “Sea of Concepts” dissipated, its influence theoretically wouldn’t disappear. As long as the ability to turn into dolls was used in the right place, it might have unexpected effects.

The human-form Salaar sat before the desk, smiling as he watched the Myss doll walk back and forth. Myss was deep in thought and didn’t realize he had walked onto Salaar’s palm, only to be scooped up by Salaar in one grab.

“What are you doing?” Myss asked irritably. He raised his cotton head and patted Salaar’s finger.

Salaar didn’t answer. He only stretched out his finger and slowly, firmly kneaded the tiny Archdemon doll, from cheek to neck, then down to the empty waist and abdomen.

Myss let out a few exasperating squeaks and angrily slapped his palm. “Stop squeezing me. You’re messing up my train of thought.”

He suspected Salaar was taking revenge for Myss grabbing his collar earlier.

Salaar lowered his eyes. The soft cotton ball twisted in his palm. The feeling was warm and fluffy, as if it had been roasted beside a fire.

Looking at those garnet eyes that kept locking onto him, Salaar couldn’t help bending down and kissing the Myss doll on the top of his head.

Myss: “?”

The Myss doll froze in place and forgot to struggle for a moment.

“You said you remember every name I carved. Then no matter what I carve, you can remember it?” Salaar’s voice was as light as a whisper, his breath stirring Myss’s cotton-thread hair.

“Yeah, otherwise who knows what bad thing you’re secretly doing again.” Myss snorted and struggled harder. “Have you squeezed enough? Let go of me.”

Of course Salaar didn’t listen. He continued to lightly press the doll’s face with his fingertips, his gaze lingering on the scattered hair.

Myss could no longer endure it. He worked hard to stretch out a small hand and drew the word “Return” in the air.

Shadows shook, and tables and chairs scraped. In the next heartbeat, Myss, restored to his original form, fell sitting on Salaar, his upper body covered only by that navy-blue coat.

With his skin exposed to the slightly cool air, Myss instinctively shivered.

He happened to land in the gap between Salaar and the table, sitting face-to-face on Salaar’s lap. The coat had been pulled askew by his movements, exposing Myss’s right shoulder.

Naturally, the other parts were even less covered.

Salaar stretched out both arms and gathered the coat together with Myss’s waist, trapping him in that narrow space. He said nothing, merely looking at Myss again, with that damp, doll-like gaze.

Myss instinctively cupped Salaar’s face and rubbed it hard, as if trying to scrub away that fatigue. Then he withdrew his hands as if shocked by electricity. “What is it now?”

“A doll has no vitality when held.” Salaar pressed his forehead to Myss’s chest, feeling the strong heartbeat beneath Myss’s ribs.

“I thought the thing you hated most was my vitality.” Myss pointed it out cruelly. “You just passed my information to other people, hoping they would help kill me.”

“Yes.”

Salaar raised his eyes, and the arms encircling Myss applied a little force. His fingertips sank into Myss’s skin, leaving faint red marks.

He moved closer, and Myss still looked down at him. Both of their breaths grew slightly rapid, melting together.

“Don’t forget, I am a ‘Divine Attendant of the Chaos Archdemon.’ If they discover a way to deal with you first, I’ll only die together with you.”

“Die together? Do you think I’m stupid? You only need to casually find some pretty-sounding excuse, and humans will let you go.”

Myss made no attempt to hide the mockery in his tone. He threaded his ten fingers into Salaar’s black hair, ensuring that Salaar had to look up at him.

Salaar smiled.

Myss had never seen Salaar smile like this. Salaar always held something back, as if beneath his skin there wasn’t flesh and blood, but bottomless mist. Yet at this moment, his smile was unexpectedly pure.

“If that day truly comes, I absolutely won’t look for an excuse.”

Silence spread through the room. The watery light from the ceiling projected onto Myss’s skin, swaying gently like a cradle. Myss saw the same faint light in Salaar’s eyes, and his enemy looked almost sincere.

Salaar’s body heat wrapped too tightly around him, and Myss suddenly felt a little hot.

Dark magic flowed along his skin, gradually weaving into dim fabric. The navy-blue coat gently slid to the floor, and Myss once again wore the ranger outfit he had long been apart from.

Only after putting on clothes did Myss feel a little more at ease. The last trace of magic wound around his wrist and finished weaving the cuff.

Looking at those ink-line-like magic threads, Myss suddenly thought of Brief and Bedsheet Archdemon.

That picture book had accidentally connected to the Sea of Concepts. He wondered whether it could still connect after being taken away… Wait.

Every time before, they had entered and left Divine Realms through normal methods. And Salaar’s seal had sealed his lair, in other words, the entrance to his Divine Realm.

But now, that copy of ‘Brave Salaar’ proved that as long as one found the right method, even a Divine Realm could be torn open through a hidden gap.

A tempting thought pierced through his mind like lightning, and Myss’s fingertips tingled with excitement.

Could Salaar’s seemingly impregnable seal also have a flaw?

…Perhaps he could create a shortcut that skipped the tedious investigation and led directly to his own Divine Realm. As long as his spirit successfully returned to his true body, in the next moment he could take a deep breath and trigger a true Night Scourge.

Yes, he only needed an “ink hole” that allowed his consciousness to quietly touch the darkness beneath the seal.

Myss tightly closed his eyes. His heart had never beaten this fast.

Beneath his eyelids, his pupils dilated, as if trying to see clearly the residual divine power of the “Sea of Concepts” that still lingered on him.

Myss did everything he could to recall what those two ink holes looked like, and what it felt like to pass through them. It was like adjusting a precision machine. He had to adjust it with great delicacy and reproduce that subtle sensation.

The air became viscous and made faint popping sounds. As the “tuning” drew closer, Myss’s body grew hotter and hotter, and the magic inside him gradually boiled.

It was exactly like maintaining balance on an invisible steel wire. If he wanted to move forward, he had to maintain his current state. One extra breath, one slower heartbeat, and it wouldn’t work.

A little closer, a little closer… He was almost about to understand. He only needed a little more…

“Hiss!”

Myss opened his eyes. Sharp pain shattered his thoughts.

Salaar was biting his collarbone.

Salaar bit quite hard. Myss suspected this kid had drawn blood. Salaar’s body was as tense as stone, and his back was soaked through with cold sweat. His hands tightly gripped Myss’s waist, the muscles in his arms bulging.

“No.”

Salaar stared fixedly at him. There was no panic on his face, only urgency and tension, as if he were watching a storm about to take shape.

“No, Myss.” His breath carried the faint scent of blood, and his voice was a little hoarse.

“…It cannot end—not yet.”

---

The author has something to say:

Don’t think Myss is harmless. Seriously, if you let your guard down for even a moment, he really will destroy the world. [cat paw] (…

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

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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

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Chapter 94: Half-Truths and Half-Lies

“What kind of person was Mr. Tenney?” Salaar answered the question with a question.

“…An ordinary old man.”

Mag froze for a moment. She truly couldn’t think of a more precise description. The United Library had many young, promising geniuses who acted eccentrically. Compared to them, that old man was ordinary to the point of being ordinary.

“But I think he wouldn’t let those old researchers remain dolls for the rest of their lives.” She hesitantly added, and then her tone gradually became certain. “Since he deliberately left the Sea of Concepts to the library, and even considered security, he wouldn’t make ‘returning to normal’ too difficult.”

They had reached another topic of human psychology that Myss had no interest in. He went limp and gave a huge yawn, letting Salaar hold him tightly.

Salaar didn’t cut in. He only smiled and looked toward Mag.

Mag had already sunk into thought. “For entering and leaving the Sea of Concepts, ‘dollification’ must have a conversion ritual that is easy to operate.”

“As long as the library investigates a little, they’ll be able to connect the dolls to Mr. Tenney… Mr. Tenney wouldn’t set up some complicated metaphor. This ritual must be directly related to Mr. Tenney… My goodness, could it be…”

She suddenly climbed down the bookshelf on all fours and ran to a nearby worktable convenient for placing books. The stick figure used all her strength to drag over an application form, then hauled over a bottle of ink.

“Mr. Tenney was the United Library’s archivist. Borrowing books and calling up materials requires a checkout slip and a return slip.”

Mag spoke breathlessly. “Try it. Sign a ‘return’ on this and see what happens.”

“I’ll do it.”

After confirming that dolls wouldn’t be attacked by the monsters, the Dragon Fae volunteered. “I saw the gemstone decoration on the ink bottle cap. If it works, I’ll have the easiest time hiding.”

Salaar nodded.

Tass poked his cloth hand into the bottle mouth, dipped it in some ink, and laboriously scratched out the word “Return” on the paper.

The moment the last letter was finished, the small doll body was swallowed by a cloud of cotton-like white smoke. When the smoke dispersed again, only the slender Dragon Fae remained in place.

Tass flew up in emotion. “My wings are back, whoo!”

In the next instant, the nearby monsters all turned their heads together. Thousands upon thousands of deformed strange eyes looked toward Tass.

Tass landed without daring to move. “Uhhh… Goodbye, I’ll hide first.”

He shot into the black crystal on the ink bottle cap, pretending he had never existed.

However, the monsters had no intention of letting him go. Countless limbs began pressing in his direction, looking as if they were about to crush the ink bottle. Mag drew in a breath and dragged the application form beside the ink bottle.

“Write ‘Borrow,’ quickly!” Mag shouted anxiously. A claw that looked very much like an eagle’s talon was poised to come crashing down.

Tass fully displayed the speed advantage of a Dragon Fae. He flashed back to the application form like lightning and quickly wrote down “Borrow.” Another puff of white smoke burst out, and the Tass doll appeared in place.

The enormous claw stopped in midair and slowly withdrew.

“It seems you found the answer,” Salaar said peacefully.

“Thank you for your hint.” Stick Figure Mag bowed.

Seeing Salaar unconsciously put on an elder’s manner, Myss snickered softly. “…Actually, you didn’t know how to change back, did you?”

“That’s right. After all, I didn’t know Mr. Tenney.” Salaar replied quietly. “I only knew he had no ill intent, and that Lady Mag is, without a doubt, a top-tier scholar.”

Myss rubbed against Salaar’s shoulder for a while, pressing his head into the softest spot. “Oh, top-tier scholar.”

“Then remember to properly explain to this ‘top-tier scholar’ why your face is exactly the same as her younger brother’s.”

……

Two hours passed.

The group randomly chose a book and entered the Divine Realm, then returned to reality through that copy of ‘Brave Salaar’.

“It seems our ink holes aren’t very complete.”

Brief wiped the hard cover of the picture book. “They should be connected together, so you can zip straight across without going through the book content. Then you won’t have to walk so far through the restricted book area…”

“This book didn’t connect to the Divine Realm normally, so it’s natural for it to have some flaws.” Mag comforted him.

Stick Figure Mag found a small house in the picture book and lay down to sleep. Lady Mag’s consciousness returned to her physical body, and she was sitting properly in her office.

The Divine Blood cage that had covered the book had already been removed. The leftover Divine Blood residue was given by Mag to Brief, because he said he wanted to repair the two ink holes.

The priest stood quietly in the corner, staring into space. The Dragon Fae had returned to normal and was flying all over the room, trying to make up for the amount of exercise his wings had missed.

Only Salaar and Myss still maintained their tiny doll forms.

“Nominally, we’re in your confinement room. It’s inconvenient for us to appear in public.” Salaar explained it this way.

Myss’s reason was even simpler. He had to first turn back into human form, then use magic to weave new clothes.

Lord Archdemon didn’t place much stock in human etiquette, but he didn’t want to appear naked in front of everyone with only Salaar’s coat on his body.

Mag picked up the bread basket, padded it with some silk handkerchiefs, then placed the two dolls inside.

“I’ll take these two to see my confinement room first, so we can match the story.”

She nodded to the priest and the Dragon Fae who stayed behind. “You two can rest here for now. I’ll be back soon.”

Under the fragrant bread cloth, the Myss doll spread his limbs and grew drowsy. He was exhausted. Salaar looked so flat that he was almost just one layer of cloth. Myss had no idea why this cheap cousin was in such a hurry.

Salaar, however, had no unexpected reaction. He quietly leaned against Myss, one cloth arm lying across Myss’s chest.

Lady Mag’s confinement room wasn’t far from her office.

Although it was called a confinement room, it wasn’t especially dark.

Inside, there was a narrow bed, a desk, a simple bathroom partition, and bookshelves covering three walls. The lighting in the room was sufficient, there was a bottle of fake flowers made of silk on the desk, and the ceiling even had a false window that projected underwater schools of fish.

Blue faint light mixed with warm orange lamplight, giving the whole room a peaceful, quiet atmosphere. If not for the portrait of Saint Salaar hanging on the only remaining wall, Myss would have liked this place quite a bit.

Mag carefully shut the door of the confinement room. The sounds from outside instantly vanished, as if only this small room remained between heaven and earth.

“The authority over this room belongs entirely to me. There’s no surveillance, and the soundproofing is also the finest.”

“Now, I think I can understand why that Professor Gentry wrote an introduction letter for you. You’re absolutely not my useless younger brother, and I don’t want to allow my family to make enemies of you… But I think you probably don’t want to make your identity public either.”

Mag solemnly placed the bread basket on the desk.

“If there is anything you need to tell me privately, now is the best time. Anything within my ability, I’ll gladly do for you.”

Speaking with a clever person really saved effort. Mag was indirectly probing his true identity. After the trip through the Sea of Concepts, pretending to be Kendrick Karns no longer made much sense.

The Salaar doll sat up and worked hard to straighten his shirt collar. “Kendrick Karns used that Divine Blood slave as a living sacrifice and mistakenly summoned us.”

“That failed ritual caused us to lose most of our power, and we could only investigate the human world and serve our God in this state.”

Mag’s expression turned solemn.

…Legendary Divine Attendants?

With her rank, she had only heard scattered mentions a few times, and she had no related materials in hand. At this stage, research into “gods” was all over the place. She had only touched the edges of “Divine Realms,” and knew some people were conducting related experiments.

As for true “gods,” apart from existing in the mouths of religious believers, no one had truly seen Them. These God’s Divine Attendants were, at most, magic geniuses, with nothing especially unusual about them.

However, from a scholar’s perspective, since Divine Realms existed, it wasn’t impossible for real gods to exist somewhere in the world.

Then true Divine Attendants…

“I understand. I’m willing to help you investigate that failed ritual and make up for my younger brother’s mistake.”

Mag hurriedly said, “In addition, I’ll remain in contact with you at all times and provide as much assistance as I can. As for the Karns family’s kill order…”

“We don’t wish to make our identities public. We’ll resolve the kill order ourselves.”

The Salaar doll gave a very lifelike sigh. “Rest assured, we won’t take our grievances out on the Karns family.”

Only then did Mag let out a breath of relief.

Compared to the disappearance of her unlucky younger brother, she was clearly more worried about whether Salaar and Myss would move against the Karns family.

Seeing that Salaar had no intention of continuing, she immediately took over the conversation. “I’ll inform the family according to your explanation and say that based on my observations, ‘Kendrick Karns’ has turned over a new leaf because of love. Aside from that, do you have any other needs?”

“What exactly did that Ken-whatever do? His reputation seems absolutely abysmal.”

At last, they had reached the free-request segment! Myss couldn’t wait to poke his head out.

He hadn’t the slightest interest in the tedious details of cleaning up and handling the aftermath, but he did have an interest in hearing scandals about Salaar’s current vessel, and quite a large one.

Mag’s expression dimmed for an instant.

“This isn’t something an older sister should say aloud. But with Kendrick Karns gone, I actually feel much more at ease…”

Kendrick Karns was the youngest child of their generation. He had lost both parents early, and he was born unable to use magic, so their grandfather had been fairly fond of this unlucky little guy.

Even though Kendrick had been disagreeable and perverse as a child, the Karns family endured it. After all, who could blame him, given his wretched luck? Even if Kendrick became a useless dandy, the Karns family could afford to keep him.

If he broke valuable things, the Karns family would at most scold him a little. If he injured servants, the Karns family would pay ample compensation and find more people to watch the boy, until…

“For a period of time, he firmly believed that the birth of his older brother, Peyton, who was three years older than him, had caused their mother’s health to weaken and affected his own constitution.”

Mag’s voice carried a few degrees of coldness. “At an important dinner, he tried to kill Peyton and make Peyton pay the so-called ‘price,’ causing Peyton to lose sight in one eye… At that time, that boy wasn’t even an adult.”

“That incident was more or less the trigger for Grandfather sending him off to the border.”

Peyton? Had this person been mentioned before?

Myss tried hard to recall. He remembered that the ones who wanted to kill Kendrick were the turnip twins, the mud knight, and the useless garbage who hired Tass. Among them, there didn’t seem to be a human named Peyton.

Mag understood his confusion. “Peyton is a very kind child. He’s now a devout monk of the Church of Cadence. He’s indeed at home during this period. I’m willing to guarantee with my honor that he will absolutely not act against you.”

So that was how it was.

In one second, Myss threw the name “Peyton” out of his mind.

Mag suddenly realized something. “Could it be that you two still intend to personally go to the Karns family to discuss the kill order?”

“I can handle it on your behalf, truly! At least I’m confident I can persuade my eldest brother and eldest sister…”

Halfway through her words, Mag swallowed them herself.

Everyone in the Karns family who had a brain knew that she and Kendrick had never had much contact, and that she had previously greatly disliked this wicked cousin. How could Kendrick simply turn over a new leaf and have her rush to speak for him?

But these were Divine Attendants indirectly acknowledged by Professor Gentry!

If some brainless person, especially her other useless cousin, Owen, offended these two to death, who knew what kind of trouble that would cause?

Mag swallowed and still couldn’t help asking, “If possible, could you, could you tell me which god you two serve as Divine Attendants?”

Please let it be a god that sounded very upright. Preferably a god from a fairly popular religion. That way, she could still judge the conduct style of the Divine Attendants based on the religious style.

Before Myss had time to spout nonsense, he saw Salaar split his mouth in a grin.

“I’m a Divine Attendant of the Chaos Archdemon.”

---

The author has something to say:

Mag, who considers herself a descendant of Saint Salaar: ?

A literal challenge.jpg

But this is only Saint Salaar gently appeasing the Chaos Archdemon. [OK]

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

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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

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Chapter 93: The True Entrance

The moment Salaar realized the research had been cut off across eras, he did indeed feel a flash of pain.

It felt as if his heart was shackled with a lead weight, dragging it towards a bottomless void. Yet, this pain only lasted a few heartbeats. Salaar was far too accustomed to despair. It couldn’t hold him captive for long.

The human world still existed. There were still people like this digging up the truth. By chance, he was still alive too. Everything was far from over.

Back then, everyone in the Celestial Canopy never intended to be enshrined in the memories of posterity. They only did it for the continued existence of humanity. Even if all their names were buried in darkness…

“I can recite every single name. How is that erased? When you carved their gravestones, I watched with my own two eyes.”

The Myss doll rubbed his face hard and said this in that perfectly natural Myss-like tone.

Salaar froze.

His heart began to fall again. This time, the pain was sharper and seemed to stretch on endlessly. Then he discovered, to his astonishment, that he actually liked this pain a little, like touching a blazing fire in the depths of winter.

Then Salaar was even more shocked to discover that he could detect a subtle emotion in Myss’s tone. It was a nearly imperceptible unease and anxiety, a trepidation born only for him.

Salaar suddenly wanted to laugh.

Myss had keenly sensed that instant of weakness in him, while he had also sniffed out the unease that even Myss himself hadn’t noticed. As enemies of more than three hundred years, they were truly skilled at finding each other’s weak points.

The vast being he had watched over for more than three hundred years had shown him one small crack.

…And so, Salaar told Myss about the subtle connection between “Divine Blood” and “Abnormal Fruit.” Not only that, he also showed the Chaos Archdemon a corner of the Celestial Canopy, as well as his own vulnerability.

What sweet bait. Such a dangerous gambit made Salaar’s hair stand on end.

But he didn’t hesitate.

Because Hero Salaar needed to lure the Archdemon’s heart and build another wall to hinder the apocalypse. And selfish Salaar needed to obtain Myss’s love, even if it was an unknowing love, simply because he wanted it.

When Myss gnawed hard at his face, the Salaar doll stretched out his short little hands and loosely enclosed Myss’s body.

Rather than an embrace, that gesture looked more like hunting.

……

After regrouping with the others, Mag was sensible enough to remain quiet and didn’t rush to investigate the Stargazers Society.

“Let’s find a path back to the outside first.” She waved her stick-figured little hand.

“There definitely won’t be any problem returning the way we came!” Brief cheerfully waved his little sword. “These concepts come from different books. I can open the path back and take you all home!”

“Wooo wooo—” Bedsheet Archdemon expressed agreement.

“I want to try another exit. Please tell me what to do,” Salaar suddenly said.

Why did Salaar sound completely recovered?

Myss turned his head in confusion and once again saw that pitiful, waterlogged-looking Salaar doll… Fine. Maybe Salaar was only habitually calm.

The Dragon Fae standing across from them wrinkled his cloth face into an expression of unbearable disgust, as if someone had stuffed a saucer of lemon vinegar beneath his nose.

Brief, however, didn’t understand all the twists and turns involved. He readily patted his chest. “Just pick anything here, grab it with both hands, and close your eyes. Then you’ll be able to find the path to that book.”

“Why can’t everyone return the way we came?” Mag asked cautiously.

That children’s picture book being able to connect here was entirely an accident. If they left from some other exit, they would only appear in the restricted book area, where “heroes and monsters gathered.”

Ever since seeing the masked man, Father Kalen had sunk into his own world. Even if the whole group jumped into a cesspit one by one, she suspected the priest would follow them in. As for the Dragon Fae, he had always looked like someone who was a spectator for the drama, so he wouldn’t question Salaar at all.

As the only normal person present, Lady Mag believed she had a duty to raise doubts.

“Because there’s still one small question I need to verify,” Salaar said. “Why did we turn into cloth dolls? Aren’t you curious?”

“As long as we enter that abnormal restricted book area, I think we’ll be able to find the reason.”

Mag hesitated for two seconds. Between “being a normal person” and “satisfying her curiosity,” she ultimately chose the latter.

Two minutes later, the group was dragged by the wailing Bedsheet Archdemon toward the deep-sea area of the Sea of Concepts.

They quickly found a strange black serpentine-like fish drifting through the waters. Its body was covered in long bone spines. For humans, it would be troublesome, but for the little dolls, hugging it was just right. The priest relied on his innate healing divine power and forced both hands onto it.

The fish lazily glanced at them and continued swimming leisurely.

The moment his hands touched that snake, Myss felt something strange.

His hands were clearly gripping cold bone spines, but the feeling was like holding a book. As long as he was willing to close the pages, he would be able to see the title on the cover.

He instinctively made the motion of “closing the book” in his mind.

In the next instant, heaven and earth spun.

He seemed to have been stuffed into a long, thin tube, then spat out from the other end with a pop. Myss flew out, dizzy and disoriented. Something soft hugged him, preventing him from falling too embarrassingly.

Myss instinctively sniffed and smelled Salaar’s scent. Salaar had bundled him into his arms, and the two dolls squeezed into one heavy cotton ball, landing safely on the ground and rolling to the side of a “wall.”

Myss shook his head and raised his button eyes.

“Wow.” Myss sighed with genuine awe.

At the moment, he and Salaar were leaning beneath the foot of an enormous bookshelf. The vast space surrounding them was filled with these gigantic shelves, crafted from deep walnut-colored wood, standing like rows of towering walls. All the books were chained to the shelves, and the gray-white chains swayed softly, making tiny sounds like sleep-talking.

Although they were deep underground, the entire area was brightly lit. Only, as far as the eye could see, there were no humans, only terrifying monsters tangled together all over the floor.

From distorted human bodies to deep-sea aberrations, there were all kinds of strange beings. They tangled and twisted around one another, spraying frightening magical radiance. The air was filled with a choking fishy stench, along with the bitter smell unique to old books.

If any one monster were pulled out on its own, its visual impact would undoubtedly be staggering. However, the way they were tangled together only made Myss think of an overcooked mixed stew.

After confirming the environment, Myss briefly checked on the other companions.

The moment Father Kalen appeared, a two-headed giant wolf lunged at him with its jaws open. The priest immediately activated his hidden ring and vanished into the air on the spot.

Tass was quick and slipped into the gap between two old books. The entire movement was so smooth that Myss almost didn’t notice him at first glance.

The three stick figures weren’t so particular. They openly stuck themselves to the side of the bookshelf. Monsters wandered past and ignored them, as if they were merely irrelevant doodles on the wood.

A huge bird claw stepped down right beside Myss and Salaar. The two dolls immediately huddled even tighter. The owner of that claw lowered its head and swept its murky single eye over them, then just as readily ignored the two.

“These concept monsters are only squeezing and tangling together. They aren’t attacking each other.”

Myss bit Salaar. He had spied here for quite a while and hadn’t seen a single monster torn apart, ripped to pieces… or anything else like that.

“Fine, the stick figures can be counted as ‘conceptual kin,’ but they only attack the priest, who retains human form, and has no interest at all in dolls like us. In other words…”

“Only people who turn into dolls can walk safely through the restricted book area, then enter the Sea of Concepts from here.”

The Salaar doll sighed. “I guessed as much. Mr. Tenney left such an important legacy to the United Library. It’s impossible that he wouldn’t set up defenses at all and let people of unknown origin sneak in.”

“The restricted book area is the true entrance to the Divine Realm. From now on, these monsters will be the best guards for the Sea of Concepts.”

That’s the feeling, Myss thought with satisfaction. Only Salaar could keep up with my genius train of thought.

Mag stared blankly up at those writhing, tangled, everlasting monsters. “So the standard for ‘turning into a doll’ wasn’t simply age?”

“I think those elderly researchers must have spent a lot of time researching Divine Blood.”

Salaar spoke slowly.

“Divine Blood is extremely contaminating. Once someone has come into contact with it, their physical body will be contaminated to some extent. This kind of mark can’t be shaken off. It can perfectly screen out the United Library’s specialized researchers.”

The Myss doll rubbed his chin, mimicking as if he’s in deep thought. “I understand. We were dragged in because we’re ‘Children of Divine Blood.’ As for Tass… Tass was probably contaminated. Anyway, Dragon Faes are a peculiar breed.”

Tass: “…”

Could he at least pretend to care a little?

Then again, he really was easily affected by the Divine Realm. It had been the same at the Red Amber, so it wasn’t strange that the United Library affected him too… Huh?

When the incident occurred, they had clearly only just entered the United Library. No matter how easily influenced he was, he shouldn’t have changed faster than the “Children of Divine Blood” who came with Divine Blood built in.

Unless he had already been contaminated by Divine Blood before entering the United Library.

But he’d never come into contact with Divine Blood in his entire life. If one had to talk about the changes that had appeared on him… it seemed that when they left the “Rabbit Hole,” his scales had become a little duller.

But other than staying inside the pocket watch and being carried around by Myss, he hadn’t done anything special.

…Forget it. Nothing major had happened anyway.

Tass gave the Myss doll a deep look and continued listening with great interest.

“I can understand your transformations, since you were contaminated by Divine Blood. But what about that book? How do you explain that copy of ‘Brave Salaar’?” Mag kept pursuing the matter.

“That book was once contaminated by low-quality Divine Blood. This story involves a bit of personal privacy.” Salaar made it up on the spot.

Myss nodded vigorously, nearly flinging the braid behind his head onto his face.

Of course Myss knew the real reason. That book had been a gift from the Fallen Child, a previous possessor of an Abnormal Fruit. The poor wretch involuntarily built a Divine Realm, Scin-something-or-other.

That girl had more or less retained a little of the Abnormal Fruit’s power. All things considered, that copy of ‘Brave Salaar’ was equivalent to having been marinated in Divine Blood, and in a bizarre twist of fate, it had connected to the Sea of Concepts.

Naturally, this matter wasn’t suitable to tell Mag.

Mag was clearly skeptical of their story. Unfortunately, she had no way of forcing these two “great and mighty” figures to speak. In the end, she could only sullenly scratch her face. “All right. When I report this to the United Library, I will handle this case… with discretion.”

“The final question. How do those people who turned into dolls recover their original forms?”

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Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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

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Chapter 92: Celestial Canopy

Hm?!

Salaar wanted to tell him something serious that had nothing to do with the contract? That Salaar?

Myss wanted to press his ear right up against Salaar’s face. Halfway closer, however, he hesitated. Without the restriction of the contract, what if Salaar lied to him?

Seeing the Myss doll’s head swaying back and forth, Salaar shook his head helplessly. He moved his tiny body with all his might, squeezing the very last bit of strength out of the doll body.

Around them, artifacts and text related to Divine Blood that were drifting in the air began to blur. In this Sea of Concepts, the light rearranged itself and turned into a definite image.

Myss was familiar with this feeling. This was exactly the perspective he had when flipping through memories. Only this time, Salaar was using this special Divine Realm to project his own memories.

Without question, this was far more real than a verbal explanation.

Normally, Salaar would never open his memories to Myss. Having caught such rare information, Myss was instantly drawn in. He wished he could stretch his semicircular button eyes perfectly round so he could see every detail clearly.

In the memory, Salaar was still a boy.

Myss wasn’t good at judging human ages. He only knew that Salaar was a little older than the children who took part in the Summoning Ritual… Probably eleven? Twelve? He couldn’t tell.

All he could see were a pair of chubby childlike hands, nothing like the long and powerful hands in his impression. In short, that little lump of flesh was holding a quill pen, scribbling away on a piece of parchment… writing some equations that made Myss want to fall asleep just by looking at them.

Farther away, there stood a huge, smoothly polished gray-black slate. On it, white stone had been used to draw dizzying cross-section diagrams, and countless pieces of parchment full of text and pictures were stuck to it.

In front of the slate stood a middle-aged woman. She had the exact same lapis-lazuli eyes as Salaar, but her hair was black. That black hair was streaked with countless white strands, making her look somewhat older than her actual age.

She placed a square tin box onto the table. With a click, the tin box opened like a flower, revealing the contents supported on a shockproof rack: a round-bottom flask filled with pitch-black liquid.

The pitch-black liquid inside the flask was somewhere between liquid and smoke, almost identical to the Divine Blood Myss had seen.

“Serpentia improved the extraction method. We have obtained the highest concentration of ‘Magic Source’ so far.”

The woman spoke slowly. “Josephine and Renn discovered that its magic quality is higher than any substance currently known.”

…So in Salaar’s impression, “Divine Blood” had always been called “Magic Source.”

Myss had already felt that the name “Divine Blood” was rather strange. Leaving aside how absurd it was to abbreviate “Chaos Archdemon” to simply “God,” the name “Divine Blood” made it sound as if he had made some sort of offering to humans.

“Yes, Madam.” Little Salaar’s voice was clear, without the slightest hint of childishness.

“We can now confirm that for more than ten thousand years, the ‘Magic Source’ brought by the Night Scourge has remained in the world. This high-concentration power promoted the birth of civilization to a certain extent, and also enabled us to use magic.”

The woman looked at Salaar as she spoke.

“However, it’s completely unsuited to sustaining civilization. Our world is very much like tadpoles in a puddle after a storm. Once the sun dries the puddle, the human world will reach its end.”

“I agree, Madam,” little Salaar echoed seriously.

The woman nodded. “If we can transform it into an energy source humans can use, perhaps there will be another solution to the Night Scourge. Next, Serpentia will try to render it harmless.”

Little Salaar’s reaction was frighteningly quick. “You mean extracting the Magic Source directly from the Night Scourge, and developing civilization underground?”

“That is Serpentia’s idea. Many people are researching in that direction. This success has given them hope… What do you think, Salaar?”

The woman’s tone was almost earnest. “You should have looked at its written data just now. What are your thoughts?”

The quill pen in front of little Salaar moved slightly, as if he were nibbling the tip.

“I believe we should look at this matter from a ‘higher’ angle.”

Salaar thought for a full five minutes before speaking again.

“The Night Scourge appears more and more frequently and lasts longer and longer. Yet according to the data, collecting ‘Magic Source’ has become increasingly difficult. Turning underground may not be a wise choice.”

“Related research can continue, but the long-standing plan cannot stop either. The underground plan shouldn’t receive too many resources… One-sixth of Serpentia’s resources, no more.”

The long-standing plan?

Myss couldn’t help narrowing his eyes. He suspected this so-called plan referred to taking an army and running right under the nose of the “source of the Night Scourge,” which was to say, him, to cause him trouble.

The woman stared fixedly at little Salaar. For that instant, her gaze was almost pitying.

But after a few heartbeats, that trace of compassion disappeared completely. She picked up the bottle of pitch-black “Magic Source” and gently placed it on Salaar’s desk.

“All right. Then give me some new guesses about this new data. Don’t consider too much. Pure guesses are enough,” she encouraged.

Her tone wasn’t like coaxing a child, but more like a conversation between equals.

Little Salaar stared at the bottle with a focus so familiar. He looked exactly like the hero Salaar in the seal, looking up at the impenetrable darkness.

“I thought of… endosperm and egg yolk.”

He rubbed the cold bottle body, the way a child might wipe his most beloved toy.

“If, and only if, the source of the Night Scourge possesses life, I think It should be very young, perhaps not even truly born yet.”

“A substance containing magic at such high concentration is like endosperm and egg yolk, ensuring that It can grow smoothly. As It matures, the Night Scourge becomes more active, while Magic Source is consumed, dwindling away.”

“And we… We’re only mold clinging to the surface of a seed, dust mites lodging on an eggshell. The moment It is born, the world will welcome the apocalypse in the truest sense.”

Little Salaar spoke in the tone of telling a story. His narration contained no hesitation, as if he had polished it in his heart countless times.

“…Of course, this is only my baseless guess,” he said at last.

“That truly sounds hopeless. You still like the hypothesis that ‘the source of the Night Scourge is a living thing’ that much.”

The woman forced a smile. “It seems that aside from research, everyone should take some time to pray that the source of the Night Scourge had better be a meteorite, or something else.”

Little Salaar didn’t respond to those words.

He merely put down that pen and repeatedly stroked the flask filled with Magic Source. Unfortunately, his body temperature was quickly absorbed by the cold liquid in the bottle, leaving no trace behind.

“If the source of the Night Scourge truly is a living thing, Serpentia’s ‘underground plan’ can add one extended research branch.”

He murmured softly, as if speaking to that little bottle. “It can nurture a godlike existence. Perhaps through it, we can also create a ‘God’ of our own.”

“If Magic Source can truly be rendered harmless, you can completely use it, like back then, to create—”

“Salaar, those are all hypotheses!” the woman suddenly raised her voice, interrupting him.

“Yes, Madam. I shouldn’t consider real-world plans based on vague and unfounded hypotheses.”

Little Salaar lowered his gaze, holding the round-bottom flask in both hands.

The woman reached out with both hands to take it. She didn’t respond to Salaar’s self-reflection.

She only gently took away the round-bottom flask. From beginning to end, her fingertips didn’t touch Salaar once, even though they were so close.

…The memory dispersed, and Myss returned once more to the faintly glowing Sea of Concepts.

“Do you have anything you want to ask?” the Salaar doll said softly.

“Oh, yes.” Myss tugged seriously at the coat. “Was that woman your mom?”

Salaar: “…”

Salaar: “First, no, she wasn’t. Second, don’t tell me you watched all that and only wanted to ask this.”

Even though Mr. Hero only had a soft cloth face, Myss still saw the complicated expression of “what you care about is truly peculiar” on his face.

Myss gave another serious “oh,” and it took him a long time to squeeze out his second sentence. “Magic Source… Divine Blood… anyway, that thing. You suspected it was my, uh, egg yolk?”

He had never thought of it from this angle. After all, “refined magic” and “delicious egg yolk” felt like they were worlds apart.

Perhaps the Divine Blood humans had excavated was too crude, or perhaps too much had been consumed over the past hundred years, but Myss didn’t feel that they were especially enticing. Since coming to the human world, the only thing that could attract him was… wait.

Myss immediately understood. “Mr. Tenney used Divine Blood to create a Divine Realm similar to one created by an Abnormal Fruit.”

“So you suspect someone inherited your research and perfected the Abnormal Fruit on the basis of Divine Blood.”

No wonder he liked the Abnormal Fruit so much. No wonder the Abnormal Fruit could make him stronger.

Those powers were originally his, but that bastard V.O.R had stolen them. Damn him!

…Speaking of which, V.O.R had used some method to refine Divine Blood into Abnormal Fruit, but hadn’t made it harmless.

He, or they, used Abnormal Fruit to create gods, but their selection standards were incredibly crude, and the results were all kinds of bizarre, aberrant gods.

Add to that the fact that the original research materials from Salaar and the others had been “erased.” Myss reasonably suspected that V.O.R was deeply involved in this matter. Of course, he had no direct evidence, at least for now.

So these things indeed had no direct connection to the body-swap incident, and Salaar had no obligation to tell him.

From Salaar’s perspective, it would be best if Myss knew nothing. After all, knowing that Abnormal Fruit was especially nourishing for Myss would only make Myss eat even more joyfully and recover even faster.

Myss eyed Salaar suspiciously. “Why show me all this?”

Salaar lowered his button eyes, his whole person looking dim and weary. “Do you want to hear the truth or the polite version?”

“…What kind of idiotic question is that? Who in their right mind would want to hear the polite version?”

“Then I’ll say the polite version.”

Salaar’s words were unusually soft. “I only wanted to tell you that whether it is the person who made Abnormal Fruit or the one who made the knowledge black hole, none of them are as extraordinary as you imagine.”

“We had already researched those conjectures before. They feared the materials we left behind, and that was why they buried them. Compared to the Night Scourge, they are nothing.”

Indeed. How could those people be worthy of comparison to him?

He would definitely dig them out, devour all the power they had stolen, and then… Well, then deal with Salaar.

With just a few sentences from his mortal enemy, Myss felt the pleasure of eating a huge mouthful of cream raspberries. That sweetness made his palms heat and the soles of his feet float.

…No, wrong. He couldn’t be intoxicated. Salaar had said this was the polite version.

“Tell me the truth,” Myss demanded loudly.

Salaar silently gazed at him.

The Sea of Concepts had no water, but the Salaar doll gave off a heavy, rain-soaked feeling. His coat was being worn by Myss, and he had only a white shirt on his upper body, making him look almost pitiful.

“I’m a little tired,” he murmured, his voice also becoming muffled.

“Awoo~” At the same time, Bedsheet Archdemon, who had been isolated outside the memory, called twice. Myss subconsciously turned his head to look.

The instant Myss’s gaze moved away, that damp quality around Salaar vanished on the spot.

His expression didn’t waver at all. His gaze toward Myss was as focused as ever, even carrying some indescribable heat. But as soon as Myss’s gaze came back, Mr. Hero swiftly drooped his shoulders and once again became weak and exhausted.

The Salaar doll continued in a low voice. “…I only wanted to tell you these things. If I were to find a successor, then with your personality that refuses to admit defeat, I think you would fairly tell—”

“I don’t play fair competition.”

Myss moved closer. “Unless you can find someone else capable of annoying me for three hundred years. Can you?”

Seeing this abnormal Salaar, the sweetness from just now instantly dispersed. Myss only felt that every part of his body was uncomfortable.

Salaar gave a complicated smile.

“I know you care about your companions. If things really… really don’t work, I can wait for you to recover.”

Myss spoke stiffly, his gaze sweeping Salaar up and down, as if Salaar were about to melt into the Sea of Concepts in the next second.

“If it’s the Salaar I know, he’ll definitely demand justice for his companions. Of course, stopping the Night Scourge still comes first. That much hasn’t changed.”

“You’re right,” Salaar said softly.

Myss had never imagined Salaar losing his fighting spirit, nor did he want to imagine it. Right now, he wished he could stuff several handfuls of cotton into the Salaar doll on the spot so this guy wouldn’t look so soft and powerless.

He thought hard, then harder, then reached out both hands toward Salaar’s face. His movements carried a rare trace of hesitation, almost enough to be called careful.

This time, he didn’t squeeze Salaar’s head out of shape. Instead, he held that soft cloth head and bumped it with his own face several times.

After bumping him, seeing that Salaar still looked soaked and drooping, he gnawed over that cotton face from top to bottom.

He had to use Salaar’s fear of “falling in love with him” to suppress Salaar’s current dejection.

…Only, for one second, he thought that even if it wasn’t fear, that would be fine. Even if it made Salaar happy, that would be fine too.

He only wanted the Salaar in front of him to return to the one he knew, full of life and always finding ways to provoke him.

“We’re going back once you’re ready.”

After gnawing Salaar’s face, Myss felt a little awkward. “These discoveries of yours, I permit you to tell the priest part of them… If you keep staring blankly here, I’ll change my mind.”

“All right, Myss.” Salaar looked a little more spirited.

And when Myss turned around to poke at Bedsheet Archdemon, Salaar also turned his head and looked toward the Divine Blood materials flying through the Sea of Concepts.

“Goodbye, everyone,” he said. “I’m still here. We haven’t failed yet.”

“…As long as even one person remains, the ‘Celestial Canopy’ won’t disappear.”

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The author has something to say:

The great hero is starting to put real effort into baiting the cat. [heart] [cat paw]

The love used as bait is becoming more and more abundant: [heart] [heart] [heart] [heart] [heart]

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