Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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

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Chapter 30: Rosha’s Holiday

On Father Kalen’s first night with them, the three held a small meeting in the guest room.

Under the bright lamplight, Kalen brewed a pot of herbal tea, bought some savory crackers from the inn restaurant, and arranged the whole scene so neatly that it really looked like a proper meeting.

Salaar sat upright at the table and took a sip of tea. “Father, do you have any suggestions for our next destination?”

Kalen nodded, his expression grave.

He took out a map from his pack. Then he closed his eyes, placed his left hand on it, and gently stroked it back and forth. Although the window was shut, the stagnant air in the room suddenly began to move, making the lamplight flicker.

Myss watched with curiosity. The bone ring didn’t release any distinct magical fluctuations. It was as if everything had been hidden within shadow.

Father Kalen felt around for about five minutes. Suddenly his brow twitched, and his hand jerked back as if he had been burned.

Then he opened his eyes and lifted his palm. The name of a city glimmered faintly, giving off a sizzling sound like something being scorched.

“Sepanti?” Myss tried hard to make out the word.

“Yes. It is the most ominous city nearby.”

Kalen explained, “Sepanti is a bit larger than Rosha. It’s famous for its fine handicrafts, and transportation there is quite convenient… Sepanti. That is my recommendation.”

‘There does seem to be a city by that name,’ Myss dimly recalled.

In the slave’s memories, two bards had once boasted to each other about their “Sepanti woven scarf” and “Sepanti rabbit-fur felt hat,” only to nearly come to blows over whether the items were genuine.

“Sepanti, Sepanti… I can’t think of any pen pals living there at the moment. At least, none have mentioned it in their letters.”

Salaar mused aloud, “Still, we can ask our Miss ‘Patience’.”

“An explicitly ominous place, plus leads connected to a pen pal. There’s a high chance V.O.R. is involved.”

Kalen agreed wholeheartedly. “Yes. Once, I chased an ominous sign for a very long time, only to arrive in time for a great fire.”

“Ah, I’m not saying a fire would be acceptable, of course…”

“Now that we have a destination, what about money?” Myss said around a mouthful of crackers.

They had spent the whole morning acting as church “ornaments” and earned only five gold rings. Now the funds had to be split three ways. Who knew whether they could still afford a comfortable carriage.

“I’m not short on gold rings, so the two of you needn’t worry about that.”

Father Kalen smiled and showed them a solid gold signet ring.

It was exquisitely made. Fine metal chains wound around the band, and the ends of the chains had been sewn firmly into Kalen’s pocket.

“This is a Savings Ring from the Dawn Guild. The Order of Shadows has deposited a sum of shared funds there, and believers may withdraw from it freely. Investigating V.O.R. is of paramount importance. As long as the expenses are reasonable, I’d be glad to cover them for you.”

What’s going on? This guy is way too useful.

Myss swallowed his cracker and sucked in a breath. “What counts as ‘reasonable expenses’?”

Kalen thought for a moment. “I’ll cover ordinary food, clothing, lodging, and whatever supplies the investigation requires. I’m afraid I can’t support other types of spending.”

“Thank you. We absolutely won’t waste money recklessly.”

Salaar let out a sigh of relief. With the Lord Archdemon no longer needing to go work in a crowd, perhaps Salaar was even happier about that than Myss himself.

Night had grown deep, which meant it was time to rest.

Looking at Myss, who was yawning nonstop, Salaar found himself in a bit of a dilemma.

Scintilla had been taken away by Huey during the day, supposedly to stay temporarily with Hailey so they could look after each other.

As for Father Kalen, he still had no place to stay. According to Kalen, in order not to attract attention before this, he had usually just found some random corner in the lower district to spend the night.

Now that the strange illness had vanished, Father Kalen no longer needed to disguise himself as the plague-beak demon and could stay at an inn normally. Their suite had two double beds, and they had already decided to travel together. Suddenly asking Kalen to go rent a separate room felt rather inappropriate.

“You can stay here tonight, Ka… Kalen. There’s a sofa over there. It’s enough for you to sleep on.”

Before Salaar could speak, Myss opened his mouth and spoke in a drowsy drawl. After all, Kalen was a precious malformed Abnormal Fruit. What if he accidentally died out in the streets?

Kalen had just started to nod when Salaar’s sigh interrupted him.

“There are enough beds. Why make him sleep on the sofa?” Salaar shook his head. “If Father Kalen hadn’t held out for two months, Rosha would’ve descended into chaos long ago. He deserves one good night’s rest.”

Myss let out a soft “oh”. “Fine, then you squeeze in with him—Wait, what are you doing?!”

Right in front of Myss, Salaar lifted his pillow and tossed it onto Myss’s bed.

With utter ruthlessness, Salaar declared, “The two of us are sharing a bed.”

“Weren’t you fighting me for the bed back in Ring Town?” Myss still hadn’t forgotten that old grudge.

Salaar: “This bed is big enough for both of us.”

Myss: “I don’t care how big it is—this is my territory.”

“So what if it’s your territory? It’s not like this is the first time I’ve been in it. That sofa is too narrow. I can’t sleep there.”

“Oh, get lost. That sofa was born for you. You’d fit right into it. Get in there already!”

Watching Myss bare his fangs and claws, Salaar suddenly broke into a gentle smile. However, with the current face he had, that smile took a rather sinister air.

He took a few small steps forward and stopped almost face-to-face with Myss.

“Really?” he said in a soft voice. “No matter how you look at it, you’re the one better suited to the sofa. I’m ten centimeters taller than you.”

“Though I suppose I can understand it. You’ve become so… small now. It’s only natural you’d be afraid I might squeeze you off the bed.”

“You’re only nine centimeters taller, bastard!” Myss exploded.

Fork raised its head along with him, hissing threateningly.

Father Kalen listened to the argument in confusion, his head swiveling back and forth between them.

He still remembered the sight of the two fighting side by side, and for the life of him, he couldn’t tell whether their relationship was good or bad.

“Please, don’t fight like this. I can sleep on the sofa,” Father Kalen tried to stop the war.

“Don’t worry about it.”
“This has nothing to do with you!”

The two turned their heads at the same time. Clearly, the matter had already escalated into a personal grudge.

Father Kalen: “…All right.”

Forget it. He would go brew some calming herbal tea.

Fortunately, by the time Kalen returned, the two had already finished arguing.

Two pillows had been placed side by side on the bed. Myss kept circling from the left side to the right, making sure the pillows were perfectly symmetrical so Salaar would gain not even the slightest advantage.

This wasn’t a concession. He was constructing an absolutely fair battlefield. He was determined to see who would squeeze whom off the bed tonight.

To make the battle fair enough, they decided to wrap each other’s snake around their wrists. In theory, that way, if one of them woke up in the middle of the night and tried anything, the other would notice immediately.

…But that was only in theory.

In the middle of the night, this was what Salaar thought helplessly.

As it turned out, Myss was utterly incapable of waking up. Little Fork had only slept on his hand for a few minutes before going limp like a ribbon. In its hazy state, it gave a few weak twitches and slithered back onto Myss by itself.

It lazily writhed across pale skin, then draped itself carelessly over Myss’s shoulder. And Myss himself… Myss himself was currently sprawled on top of Salaar.

Yes. Lord Archdemon had slept himself into oblivion, completely obvious to the “competition” or “rules” they had set.

Five minutes earlier, he had first arched his back into Salaar’s arms. Salaar had instinctively turned over and ended up lying flat on his back. Then Myss, taking advantage of the opening, rolled over and half-pressed himself onto Salaar.

Knife had originally been honestly coiled around Myss’s left wrist, but that large movement had crushed it badly. It let out an “oof” on the spot and struggled with all its might between their tightly pressed bodies.

Salaar, abruptly awakened in the middle of the night by being crushed: “…”

Myss’s long hair had plastered itself all over his face, and it took him a while to spit the strands out of his mouth.

The weather was turning colder, and Myss seemed quite satisfied with Salaar’s body heat. He rested his head against Salaar’s chest, letting out small puffs through his nose and once again transformed his “enemy” into a human cushion. Even though both of them were wearing sleepwear, that warmth still seeped through, enveloping Salaar like mulled wine.

Myss was heavy and warm—a stark contrast to how he had been while trapped in the seal.

Myss had been obsessing over “territory” on the mattress, though Salaar had no idea how territory was supposed to be calculated when one person was lying on top of another. Staring at the ceiling in the dark, Salaar seriously considered his options.

In the end, he quietly stretched out a hand, intending to remove this lump of a person without making a sound.

But before he could move, Myss gave a little wiggle, his warm breath puffed over Salaar’s chest again and again. Fork got nudged off by Myss and ended up slantwise across Salaar’s neck like a cold garrote.

Salaar froze. He couldn’t even tell whether it was the warmth that had made him stop, or the cold.

Knife adjusted its position slightly and, half asleep, muttered, “Salaar, aren’t you sleeping yet…?”

Salaar silently looked at his own snake.

Knife’s body was completely relaxed, loosely coiled around Myss’s left wrist. The tip of its tail extended outward, unconsciously hooking around Myss’s little finger.

“Good night.”

After several seconds of silence, Salaar let out a soft sigh and closed his eyes.

……

“This is my victory,” Myss announced.

He had actually turned Salaar into a form of mattress. Clearly, even asleep, he was a genius.

Since Salaar had become his cushion after one night’s sleep, Salaar was no longer his opponent, but spoil he had tamed. And what right did spoil have to talk about winning or losing?

Salaar helplessly didn’t know if he should laugh or cry. “Get off first.”

Not far away, Father Kalen coughed lightly.

“This was my oversight. I didn’t mean to disturb you two,” he said with deep understanding. “I just spoke with Mr. Huey and booked an extra single room. It’s Covington’s old room, actually. It’s very cheap now.”

Myss was still sprawled on top of Salaar. “Mm, it’s a bit of a disturbance.” Otherwise, they wouldn’t have needed to fight over the bed in the first place.

Still, it took him quite a while to remember the name Covington.

That seemed to be the kingdom investigator who had picked a fight with him and then died of the strange illness. The man’s corpse had been floating in the room at the end of the corridor.

Since they had dealt with the “Fallen Child,” the abnormal corpses in the city would presumably disappear as well. There was nothing strange about that room becoming vacant again. In any case, it was on the same corridor, so the priest wouldn’t be able to go very far.

…What a pity. It seemed Salaar would be able to sleep in a proper bed tonight. Myss had won a victory in vain. He let out a sigh.

Salaar turned his head, trying to explain. “Father, it’s not what you think.”

Kalen said, “In the teachings of the Lord of Shadows, only romantic attachments toward children, blood relatives, and animals is forbidden. I will not harbor any prejudice toward either of you.”

Having said that, Kalen quickly left the room before Salaar could explain further.

Salaar covered his eyes with the back of his hand and let out a huge sigh toward the ceiling.

“Hey, Loser Salaar—tie my hair for me.”

“…Sigh!”

After breakfast, the three of them walked beneath the sunlight of Rosha City. The weather was especially good today, and the crows’ feathers were lit with a faint iridescent sheen.

It took them less than an hour to deal with business. Scintilla was recuperating at the Hammer Tavern, and when they found her, she was helping Boss Hammer design a new menu.

Scintilla’s memory was quite good. She quickly recalled information related to Sepanti.

“I really did correspond with a gentleman who lives in Sepanti. His pen name was ‘Flaw.’ I remember him quite clearly.”

Scintilla bit the end of her quill. “He suddenly wrote to me one day to discuss the design of ‘magical vessels.’ I have no idea where he got my contact information… He wasn’t introduced directly to me by V.O.R. Is that still all right?”

Salaar nodded. “That’s fine.”

Thank goodness, Scintilla was a normal person.

Not only had she kept the envelope the letter came in, the letter itself hadn’t been soaked to ruin by corpse-fluid either. She led them back to where she was staying, dug out the only letter that person had sent, and handed it straight over.

“May we take the original?” Kalen asked with concern.

“You saved my life, and you saved Rosha as well. It’s only a letter. There’s not even anything particularly important in it.”

Scintilla said solemnly, “And I’ve made up my mind. From now on I’m going to study my own magic, not magical vessel crafting. I won’t need to keep corresponding with ‘Flaw’ anymore.”

Myss glanced at the letter. The contents had been preserved intact, and the sender’s address was perfectly clear:

[Flaw, Upper District of Sepanti City, Red Amber Collection Hall]

It seemed this would be their next destination.

……

Now that the destination had been decided, every moment before departure was a holiday!

The summoning ritual had only recently concluded so there were still stalls near the cathedral bustling with activity. Apparently this once-a-year market would last for a whole week. Kalen had agreed to help them book passage on a merchant caravan, leaving Myss and Salaar flush with cash.

Myss launched a brazen sneak attack on Salaar and fished two silver shields out of Salaar’s coin pouch.

Lord Archdemon charged straight for the familiar cheese-and-berries stall, and this time remembered to buy only one serving. It wasn’t that he had suddenly developed the virtue of frugality, only that he wanted to waste the two silver shields more evenly.

Kalen, meanwhile, was cheerfully inspecting the meat stalls. He bought the fresh scraps the shopkeepers had shaved off and didn’t want, stuffed them into an old cloth sack, and presumably planned to use them to reward his flock of crows.

People hurriedly avoided the bloody sack. If Kalen’s priestly appearance hadn’t looked so trustworthy, they would have stayed even farther away.

The crows waited excitedly on nearby rooftops. Every now and then they cawed out to Kalen, as if only just stopping short of dancing for him.

Salaar, meanwhile, looked as if he had been possessed by a crow. He was examining shiny trinket stalls one by one.

“What are you looking at those for? They’re all fake anyway.”

Even with only a slave’s level of knowledge, Myss knew that a few copper teeth weren’t enough to buy real gemstones.

“Sepanti is relatively prosperous. Proper decoration can save us a lot of trouble there.”

Without even looking up, Salaar said, “Besides, our destination is a collection hall. If we need to strike up a conversation with artisans, ‘I think I may have bought a fake’ is a pretty good opening line.”

As he spoke, he picked up a crudely imitated “sapphire” “gold” brooch and examined it seriously in the sunlight.

There it is again, the Great Hero Salaar thinking of all these trivial details. Myss gave a dismissive snort and went back to chewing on his cheese.

That said, the thing Salaar had picked really was too fake. The supposed sapphire wasn’t even transparent, and the metal parts looked more like brass than gold.

Myss’s gaze swept over the stall and suddenly caught an extremely faint magical fluctuation.

The source was a silver brooch set with a ruby.

The ruby was actually fake, crafted from red glass and polished carefully into the shape of a droplet, like a drop of blood, or a tear. The silver setting, however, was real, and the design was simple and beautiful. Perhaps it was just a practice piece made by some apprentice craftsman.

It was buried in a corner, hard to spot at first glance.

Myss stared at that touch of red and suddenly remembered the lapis-blue scarf behind him.

He remembered clearly: that very morning, Salaar had used that blue scarf to tie up his hair. Myss had wanted to switch it for a white handkerchief, only to be mercilessly refused by Salaar.

Actually, Myss had tried tying it several times himself. But each time it ended up crooked and lopsided, and before long it would come loose, forcing him to go back to Salaar to have it fixed.

As a result, that lapis-blue scarf was still wound through his hair. An irritating mark, beyond question.

…What if he marked him back?

Myss picked up the brooch and came up with an excellent revenge plan. “I want this one.”

“Twenty-five copper teeth.”

The stall owner’s asking price was fairly reasonable. He looked up at Myss, coughed twice, then said, “…You can have it for twenty, sir.”

Myss paid with astonishing speed, as though he were performing some kind of dark ritual. The brooch had only just reached his hand when he immediately turned to Salaar. “Look at this.”

“The color suits you very well,” Salaar said after one glance.

“Oh, this is for you to wear,” Myss announced. “You know, as a ‘return gift’ for that blue scarf.”

He deliberately stressed the words return gift, waiting to see Salaar’s reaction.

Salaar froze for a moment. Surprise and puzzlement flashed through those blue eyes, but there was no anger.

A moment later, with a trace of understanding, all those emotions were drowned in a smile.

“Thank you. That’s very thoughtful of you. I’ll treasure it well.” Salaar took the “ruby” brooch of his own accord and openly pinned it to the front of his clothes.

Even worse, as a “return gift for the return gift,” Salaar immediately bought a string of black stone beads and declared that he would use it to decorate that lapis-blue scarf.

Father Kalen looked at the two of them with a benevolence so terrifying it gave Myss goosebumps all over.

Lord Archdemon stared gloomily at the brooch and suddenly felt the sort of grievance one feels when tossing a meat bun to a dog and getting nothing back.

The morning wind stirred, and the glaring “ruby” swayed lightly against Salaar’s chest like another beating heart.

…..

Two days later, the three decided to leave Rosha City.

All the corpses of those who had died from the strange illness had disappeared, and for nearly a week no new patients had appeared. The plague-beak demon had vanished without a trace as well. At last, the turmoil brought by the “plague” had settled, and the city lord’s soldiers were visibly more relaxed.

“The demon must have left,” people speculated.

In a sense, that wasn’t exactly wrong. The plague-beak demon, the Chaos Demon God, and a certain great hero had all checked out of the inn together.

At the time of their departure, Huey specifically called Hailey and Scintilla over to say goodbye. Huey and Hailey gave them a large bag of crackers, while Scintilla specially prepared a gift for Myss and told him to open it only after he had left.

The adult and the two girls all had red-rimmed eyes, and even the corners of Kalen’s eyes were a little damp.

And when they walked out through the city gates, the ramparts were packed thick with crows. They followed them reluctantly all the way, seemingly unwilling to leave with Kalen.

Kalen gave them another entire sack of scraps and entrails, waving his hand over and over again.

One farewell after another played out before him, yet Myss felt nothing in particular. In that darkness, he had seen thousands of similar scenes, and in more than half of them, Salaar had been the main character.

Compared to all that, Myss was more curious about the parcel Scintilla had given him. Why had she gone out of her way to prepare him a gift? After all, he had mocked her so harshly.

Once they climbed into the carriage, Myss immediately took out the sealed parcel. Salaar quietly leaned over and squeezed close to look with him.

The package was exquisitely wrapped. On the cover was a line in neat, graceful handwriting:

[Thank you for your words of comfort. I will study magic properly and devote my whole life protecting Rosha City, atoning for my past mistakes.]

[This is my cherished possession. I hope it can bring you courage and blessings.]

There was no signature at the end, only a hand-drawn sunflower. The seal on the back of the parcel was also decorated with a bundle of dried herbs.

Myss tore open the package briskly.

The next second, amid Salaar’s loud laughter, Myss threw himself backward so fast his chin nearly bunched up into folds—

Inside the parcel was, unmistakably, a copy of Brave Salaar.

Damn it! He knew it! That girl was exacting revenge on him—!!!

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The author has something to say:

The second arc begins! On second thought, I decided this chapter should go with Volume Two after all. [throws flowers]

Height settings: Myss 178 cm; Salaar 187 cm; Kalen 190 cm. [let me see, let me see]

And now, let us analyze Salaar-speak from Arc One:

Myss: refers to Myss. The source of the Night Scourge, a powerful and ancient unknown existence, a very lively and wondrous creature (?)

My~~ss: Mooom~my (used specifically to tease a certain someone) [dog holding rose in its mouth]

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

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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

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Chapter 29: A Wrap for Now

Salaar pushed the door open. Sure enough, Kalen was waiting inside.

In just one morning, the room had been cleaned. The floor was spotless, the bedding dry and smooth, and the windows were thrown wide so a fresh breeze could whirl through.

On the table sat round loaves stuffed with cold cuts and cheese, washed sweet plums, and herb tea at just the right warmth. The crows hopped along the sill but didn’t touch the fresh food.

Salaar took a quick look. None of the three unconscious people were in the room.

“I booked a four-bed next door. It’s easier to look after them that way,” Father Kalen said. “I’ll head over. There’s food on the table. You two should really rest.”

“That’s too kind.”

Carrying a sound-asleep Myss, Salaar carefully closed the door with his heel. “You don’t have to do all this. We’ve got it.”

“Ah, don’t mind me. I’m used to caring for my brother.” Kalen waved it off. “He’s a bit disabled, so I’ve gotten good at these things.”

Since the man had put it that way, Salaar let it go. He only reminded Father Kalen they had matters about V.O.R. to discuss and asked him not to leave for the time being.

The priest readily agreed and went next door to tend the patients. The crows spread their wings and relocated with him, leaving only the cool breeze at the window.

Salaar locked the door and gently set Myss back on the bed. Maybe he’d pushed through too many nights. The Demon Lord slept so deeply he didn’t react at all.

Salaar took off Myss’s boots, quietly unbuckled his belts, and left only the loose outer coat.

Last, he undid Myss’s braid and let the gray-white hair fall. The smooth strands slid through his fingers like poured mercury. Daylight cast a soft halo around his hair.

The little snake Fork still slept among the strands, which Salaar carefully lifted out. In its dreams, its red eyes crossed a little, making it look a bit silly.

He set it back on Myss. Fork nosed around, quickly coiled up Myss’s arm, and fell asleep again.

For a while, the world was all quiet. There was only the faint scent of herb tea and the faraway voices outside the window.

Salaar sat at the bedside, studied Myss for a moment, then gently took his right wrist.

In sleep, Myss’s fingers curled slightly, his palm hotter than usual. His nail beds were rosy and looked like they were in good condition; there wasn’t much dirt under the nails. The Demon Lord was cleaner than Salaar expected.

Touching those warm fingers, Salaar thought again of the cold, ever-present tendrils in the dark.

Not long ago, Myss’s true form hadn’t shown any tendril structure. Was that another form of his? Or was the being called the “Archdemon” in the midst of a metamorphosis…

Myss felt the touch. He grunted twice in his sleep, whisked his right hand away, and tucked it under the quilt.

Salaar could only sigh and tuck the covers in.

“Aren’t you sleeping, Salaar?” Knife whispered. “Honestly, I’m a bit tired.”

“Going now,” Salaar murmured, finally pulling his gaze from Myss.

……

Myss woke from hunger.

When he opened his eyes, the sky was already dim. Calculating the time, he’d slept from morning to evening.

Bright-eyed, he hopped off the bed and immediately spotted the delicious spread on the table. He chomped into a cold-cut roll and ate with great relish.

Oh. Salaar was still asleep.

It hit Myss that this was his first time seeing Salaar’s sleeping face in the human world. He clamped the bread in his teeth and hurried over, curious.

Salaar’s features were deeply cut, his lines a bit hard, with a sharp gloom to them. One hand shaded his brow; his face was deathly calm. Who knew what he was dreaming of.

Knife lay obediently coiled by his pillow, also sleeping soundly.

“Oh!” Fork cried out, springing like a coil. It bonked Knife awake, then shot back to Myss.

Knife stirred woozily and hid under Salaar’s pillow.

After a bit of staring at the sleeping Salaar, Myss got bored. He waved the remaining half of his roll under Salaar’s nose, trying to provoke the hero awake with the smell.

Salaar’s lapis-lazuli eyes opened. He narrowed them at Myss, then took a bite. Two seconds later, Myss’s roll had died a heroic death.

“That was mine! There’s more on the table!” Myss cried in dismay.

“I thought you were giving it to me,” Salaar said nonchalantly, swallowing the last crumbs without mercy.

Five minutes later.

After devouring his fill, Salaar and a long-faced Myss knocked on the door next door.

The other room was thick with the scent of herbs. The curtains were drawn, casting a soft shadow across the room.

Scintilla was actually awake. She was curled in a corner of the bed, holding a bowl of stewed pears, looking exhausted and lost.

Hailey and Huey had just gotten their emotions back and still lay half-asleep on their beds. Their breathing was a touch fast, but their faces had good color.

“Good evening,” Father Kalen said. “Thanks to Mr. Salaar, everyone’s recovering fast. But Mr. Huey and Miss Hailey will need a little… digestion time.”

At the sound of the door, Scintilla looked up. Her unfocused gaze skimmed Salaar and Myss and dropped back to the sheets.

“…so… rry…” she whispered, lips barely moving.

“What is it, Miss Scintilla?” Salaar crouched by her bed and asked gently.

“I’m sorry…”

She didn’t raise her head. Tears fell like a burst dam and pattered into the bowl. “It’s all my fault. I should’ve asked for help earlier… Mr. Kalen told me… the ones who died of illness… sob… it’s all on me…”

She fought not to break down, her voice wrecked and hoarse.

Salaar listened in silence until her sobbing was less out of control. “You should’ve asked sooner, and you shouldn’t have opened those letters from unknown sources.”

His voice was unusually even. “I won’t tell you that you’re completely blameless.” He paused. “But I can tell you the true culprit lies elsewhere—do you remember V.O.R.?”

At that, he cut a glance toward Kalen.

Oh, oh, oh—time to adopt the crow priest!

In high spirits, Myss straightened up and decided to forget that half roll.

“V.O.R.…”

Scintilla wrestled her hiccups down, bit her lip, and her pupils widened in fear. “I remember… Right before I blacked out, I got a letter from him.”

Kalen immediately took a letter from his pocket and held it out to her. “Was it this one?”

Scintilla sniffled. She didn’t dare touch the page, only looked from a distance. “It’s missing two words… He addressed me as ‘Fallen Child’. And those two words…”

She shuddered, gulping air. “Those two words bit me! Then I don’t remember anything… That ‘anomalous space’ you mentioned—I don’t have any impression at all…”

She tore her gaze from the paper and curled up tight, as if it might bite again.

The priest stroked the paper, lost in thought.

Perfect. Hooked.

Myss crossed his arms solemnly and added, “Oh, I looked through your memories. That thing didn’t bite you. It’s more like a seed of an Abnormal Fruit, crazily siphoning magic like your Magibase.”

“But your Magibase mom only drains you. That thing turned you into a monster so it could feed on the whole city.”

Then Myss flicked a look at the priest from the corner of his eye and went on, “Hey, kid, you studied that Magibase for a long time. Besides wanting to drain you dry, is there anything special about it?”

Talking about her research brought a little clarity to Scintilla’s eyes.

She searched her memory a bit and shook her head. “Other than absorbing magic very fast, it wasn’t much different from the rest, just incomplete. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have…”

She paused sadly. “The only special thing is probably ‘I survived’.”

“On anyone else, that kind of Magibase would be fatal.”

No new lead. Myss grunted indifferently. He hadn’t expected a teenage girl to have some earthshaking discovery. So long as the crow priest took the bait, it was his win.

Think about it: he could read mutates’ memories and cut out the source, and Salaar could put people back together. What a perfect lure.

All that remained was the finishing blow—

“Let’s reintroduce ourselves. I’m ‘Pilgrim’, your pen pal of many years.”

Salaar stood and held out his right hand to Scintilla. “V.O.R. introduced us back then. Remember?”

Scintilla’s eyes widened a little in surprise. “It’s you! You’re more…”

She stopped just in time. Myss guessed she’d meant to say “normal”. After all, Lord Karns’s writing was so muddled even an Archdemon couldn’t stand it.

“…Has your research gone well?”

She switched topics at last, clearly unaware Lord Karns was using human sacrifices.

Salaar lowered his eyes, a touch of bitterness on his face.

“No. My research ran into a major problem. Someone who’d cared for me for a long time died because of it, and another person who’s vital to me got dragged in—his body still hasn’t recovered.

“Seeing what happened to you, I suspect those anomalies are tied to V.O.R. Anyway, I’m homeless now. From here on, I’ll do whatever it takes to find V.O.R.”

Wow. What an impact.

Out of the corner of his eye, Myss checked Father Kalen—once Scintilla confirmed Salaar’s identity, the priest’s last doubts disappeared. His delighted gaze flicked between them, and even the crows’ eyes seemed to sparkle.

But the conversation didn’t end there.

Hearing that Salaar meant to hunt V.O.R., Scintilla flinched. Then, as if remembering something, she carefully set down her bowl of fruit.

“I—I’ve been considering a possibility. I don’t know if it’s useful to you,” she said softly. “That handsome gentleman just now made it sound like my Magibase was attacking me…but maybe that’s not how it was…”

Myss tilted his head. Fork, hidden in his sleeve, squeaked an astonished “oh!”

“At least in this matter, I’m not a victim,” she said with difficulty. “That Magibase doesn’t have a self. It only ran according to my subconscious.”

“I wanted my mother back, so it kept creating her illusions for me. But I knew they were illusions and wasn’t satisfied, so it decided to ‘gestate’ me all over again.”

“The space Father mentioned was just… its way of staying with me, birthing me, becoming my real mother… That’s very likely…”

Her voice shrank, worn down by the words themselves. Salaar and Father Kalen fell silent; the air turned heavy.

In the silence, Myss gave a loud snort. “Aren’t you giving yourself too much credit?”

Scintilla stared at him, momentarily forgetting to sob.

“Maybe its motive’s exactly what you said. But could a kid like you make a monster of that caliber?”

Myss dismissed it. “Without the final gift V.O.R gave you, your little spark wouldn’t have set off a natural disaster.”

Come on. He lost control in front of that monster. How could a mighty Archdemon that was out of control possibly be defeated by a creation made by a kid’s tantrum.

With that in mind, he went on, justified and cool. “If you ask me, you held it back. That monster started out damaged—hardly what I’d call ‘normal’.”

He remembered clearly: before they even took action, the monster’s body already had plenty of fractures; in the end he separated Scintilla’s body with ease, and only parts of her had mutated.

Right up to the end, the girl kept that sliver of reality and wasn’t swallowed whole.

The bottom line was, the Abnormal Fruit was the real powerhouse. At most, Scintilla’s loss of control made her the vessel and the feed.

As soon as Myss finished, Scintilla’s nose went red and tears started again. She didn’t look at him this time, just stared at the sleeping Huey and Hailey.

But unlike the grief Myss expected, a faint relief touched her face. Whether her mind had settled or she was simply spent, she closed her eyes and drifted back to sleep.

“Never figured you’d comfort people better than me,” Salaar said, a note of something odd in his voice. “What can I say—very you, My~ss~.”

Myss snapped his head up. “Shut up. I just wanted her to know her place and drop the fantasies.”

“By the Lord of Shadows…” Father Kalen touched his heart with his fingertips. “I’ve got a presumptuous request.”

Myss jerked his head. “Not presumptuous.”

The priest stalled, keeping a puzzled smile. “Since you both want to investigate V.O.R., could we perha—”

Myss: “Yes. Let’s do it.”

Beside him, Salaar wiped a hand down his face and nodded to Kalen.

Kalen: “……”

Kalen awkwardly lowered his head as his sincerely said, “Thank you—really. Honestly, if I hadn’t met you two, I wouldn’t know what to do.”

“Great. From today on, you’ve got to stick with us,” Myss declared. “If you don’t get something, ask Salaar. If there’s trouble, tell Salaar. If you’re short on money, hit up Salaar… and if you hear any news about the Abnormal Fruit, report to me first.”

Salaar remained silent. One hand wiping his face became two.

Kalen scratched his cheek in confusion. “But you both look much younger than me. Shouldn’t I be the one taking care of you…”

“No worries—we’ll play it by ear,” Salaar raised a hand to halt the dreadful conversation.

Sunset stained the sill red. Outside, the crows cocked their heads and hopped about. At last they beat their wings and went to hunt their own dinner.

……

Two days later.

The good news: the Upper City finally wrapped its endless inquiry, and Myss and Salaar were allowed back to their guestroom.

Huey and Hailey recovered as well. Though the memory of that horrific space still rattled them, the uncle and his niece had returned to normal life.

Salaar explained the incident as “Scintilla was possessed by a demon and what you saw as an illusion created by it” and “the strange illness was indeed a demon’s curse. We drove the demon off together.” He didn’t mention anything about the Abnormal Fruit.

With a priest on their side, that story sounded convincing.

“At least the plague won’t come back. Business at the inn should pick up,” Huey said, still shaken, ruffling Hailey’s hair.

Hailey’s focus was elsewhere. “Will Uncle’s Magibase fully recover?”

In the chaos, Huey’s Magibase took the biggest hit. He could barely use magic now—thankfully his job didn’t require it.

“Don’t worry, child. With careful recuperation, Mr. Huey will recover in a month,” Father Kalen said. “But watch sleep and stress. Magibases are easily affected by one’s mental state. I’ve mixed some calming herbal tea. Brew two pots a day…”

Myss sprawled on the inn’s plush bed, half-lidded, listening to the humans chatter.

This bed was amazing—infinitely better than the Hammer Tavern’s. Lord Karns’s letters were well kept, and none of their luggage was missing. Salaar said Huey had likely made sure of that.

Myss didn’t care about these trifles. He buried his face in the soft pillow and let out a satisfied breath.

“What’ll happen to Scintilla?” Huey’s muffled voice drifted to him.

“We won’t report to the Royal Investigators,” Salaar said. “With the demon’s trail unclear, there’s no point in stirring up a wider panic.”

“But personally, that doesn’t mean Miss Scintilla bears no responsibility. She should think hard about how to atone… Luckily, she’s capable and has a long future.”

Huey exhaled deeply and hummed a quiet assent.

Hailey spoke up, her tone a bit awkward. “We’ll keep an eye on her, right, Uncle? Uncle Hammer’s short on hands—I can work with her… I don’t want Rosha getting another plague.”

“…Yes. We’ll watch her and make sure she doesn’t cause more trouble.” Huey gave her a smile.

A warm, gentle mood pooled around the humans. Myss felt a subtle sense of impatience.

“Hey.” He pulled his face from the pillow. “You’d better not let her summon a Magibase again.”

Salaar arched a brow at him; only then did Myss notice the guy had been watching their way all along.

“Since she’s naturally able to use magic, let her use her own.” It wasn’t like she couldn’t use magic. Salaar and his army used it just fine, and their strength was far greater than those Magibase users.

Hailey hesitated. “But I heard growing that way’s really slow…”

Myss flopped back into the pillow, voice muffled. “Wasn’t her last ‘growth spurt’ fast enough? Let’s skip the next one.”

Hailey went silent at once, and Salaar coughed a few times.

“Are you really leaving?” Huey steered them back. “Rosha’s a nice place. It’s especially beautiful this season.”

“Thanks for everything. We’ll wander a few more days and restock,” Salaar said. “But we do have business, so we can’t stay long…”

The linens smelled so good. Listening to Salaar’s low voice, Myss’s mind drifted, and he fell asleep again in the sunlight.

At the same time.

Three doors down from the group, in a dim room.

The curtains were sealed tight, layered with temporary covers. Though dusk hadn’t fallen, the room was nearly dark with only a few candles burning.

Kai, the magic-item merchant, flexed his wrists, making a clicking sound.

One suitcase sat on the floor, lid gaping to show a heap of alchemic gadgets—several bottles of “Resolve to Elope” conspicuous among them. He was busy hoisting another case—the one he’d never opened—onto the bed with effort.

“Hey, hey! Kai, are you listening?”

A perfect clear crystal cube sat on the bedside table—a voice-transmission device shrieking. “You’ve been out of touch for two whole days. Is Kendrick Karns still in Rosha or not?”

“Probably.”

“What do you mean, probably?!”

“How should I put it… the Young Master isn’t quite what I expected. I thought he’d come to his senses and elope with a pretty slave. Turns out it’s way more complicated than I thought.”

Click. Kai popped the lock on the huge suitcase.

“If you want my advice… well, whatever the Karns family’s paying you, you’d better not wade into this mess.”

Silence from the device for a few seconds.

“It’s just an assassination. I’ve never failed,” the voice insisted.

“Alright, since you insist,” Kai shrugged at the air. “Either way, I’m not feeding you intel. Figure it out yourself.”

“What? I already paid a deposit, you freckled runt!”

“I already told you he’s in Rosha. That doesn’t break our agreement,” Kai said. “Goodbye, O’Unfailing… Sorry, Dragon Fae doesn’t have a gender, right? Should I call you sir or ma’am? Any preference?”

“I have a name!” the voice snapped.

“Alright then. Goodbye, Tass Ga the Unfailing.” Kai cut the call cleanly.

“Honestly, my main job’s a magic artifact merchant, not an information broker.” Kai snorted and opened the long-sealed case.

In the dim firelight, another “Kai” lay curled inside.

A closer look revealed that while the “Kai” inside the box had a warm color and looked alive, tiny seams marked the joints, revealing a puppet of terrifying precision.

“I just heard someone made the same foolish move I did. That scared me good,” he murmured to it. “Our Miss Scintilla’s got a bright future—she actually devised a control method for the forbidden Magibase herself… Pity she couldn’t make a vessel.”

“So tell me—compared to her, am I lucky, or unlucky?”

The puppet slowly opened its eyes.

It didn’t move and merely slowly rolled its eyeballs. The eyeballs made a dry, clicking sound as they moved, finally settling into the corners.

“Anyway, since Miss Scintilla’s back to normal. I doubt she’ll want to ‘join the Stargazers Society’. My recruitment job’s done.”

Kai didn’t look at it. He turned his head toward where Myss and Salaar were.

“…As for those two ‘eloping accidents’—if they keep chasing V.O.R., we’ll meet again sooner or later.”

“Assuming, of course, they survive that Tass Ga.”

---

The author has something to say:

I’m guessing everyone’s already forgotten Kai (…)? But how could a passerby eat up a whole chapter!

---

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

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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

---

Chapter 28: The Summoning Ritual

“Time’s running out. I’ve got to lift the mental magic on both of them right now.”

Salaar walked up to the weakened Huey and Hailey—Huey was still lying on the bed, and Hailey was slumped against the bedside. After giving Scintilla a “Magibase transfusion”, the two of them were basically in a semi-comatose state.

“Myss, cover me. I can’t lose focus while I’m casting,” the great hero declared.

Myss: “Undo your own suggestion first. I’m not your mother.”

The little snake, Fork, cocked its head and nudged Myss hard.

…Oh, right, the mutual protection contract. He’d almost forgotten. Myss clicked his tongue in annoyance. “…Fine, fine. Just hurry up.”

Salaar smiled at him.

This time he didn’t touch their heads with his left hand. He laced both hands over his chest in a gesture similar to praying.

Then Salaar closed his eyes and silently chanted words no one could understand. His face was emotionless, giving no clue whether it was a blessing or a curse.

Huey and Hailey’s eyes filled with golden light, and a beam burst from their mouths as if they’d swallowed a whole sun. They stiffened and tipped their heads back, the blazing beam outshining the morning light.

A full five minutes later, the light at their eyes and mouths finally died. Both of them looked like they’d been struck by a heavy hammer and fell unconscious on the spot.

Myss watched intently.

He’d never seen this trick from Salaar before. In that long darkness, Myss had only ever seen the hero strip comrades of their emotions but never restore them.

“Doesn’t look divine at all.” Fork yawned again.

The little guy had voiced his thoughts. Myss narrowed his eyes at it and tapped its tiny snake head.

Not only was it not divine, but there was something unholy about Salaar. Myss even half suspected this “great hero” wasn’t fighting to save the world but just trying to seize his territory.

“…It’s done.”

Salaar rolled his shoulders. “Let’s go. The person in charge is still waiting downstairs.”

“Father, can we leave these three in your care? If you need herbs, you can buy them from the owner. He’s got a pretty complete stock.”

Kalen nodded.

He looked at the two of them, eyes gleaming. There was no question of “this makes no sense”, but rather a “such a method actually exists?”.

“Don’t worry, I won’t take a single step away,” Father Kalen swore, while the crows outside cawed along.

……

By the time they dragged him to the church, Myss was already nodding off. Human drowsiness was terrifying; it clamped his head like a vise and kept forcing it down.

Salaar hauled Myss into the preparation room, and Myss stood there bleary-eyed. He let Salaar change his clothes for him, not wanting to lift even a finger.

“Keep your snake in check. It isn’t a Magibase. Everyone can see it.”

While fastening the collar clasp, Salaar reminded him.

Fork had left Myss’s wrist and climbed up to his collarbone, using the hollow there as a little bed. Right now it was curled up limp on the dip of his collarbone, tail draped over Myss’s shoulder, particularly conspicuous.

The silver scales against the solemn white robe made a lovely picture, but the two leads’ expressions didn’t match. Upon hearing Salaar’s warning, Myss and Fork opened their jaws in unison and gave him an enormous yawn.

Salaar gave a long sigh and picked up the half-asleep snake, weaving it into Myss’s braid.

Fork grumbled, adjusted itself into a favorite pose, and passed out like a rock.

“So it isn’t a Magibase,” Myss muttered. 

“After all, the Magicbase’s origin is unknown. I only borrowed the idea, not the principles.”

As Salaar spoke, he set the ceremonial crown on Myss’s head.

“Right. They’re born from our magic, so they’re affected one-way by our mental state.”

“However, Knife and Fork are really contract emblems, so they’re independent beings. As long as the contract stands, even if they’re destroyed, they’ll regenerate and it won’t affect you or me.”

“Then why’d you give them mouths?”

Myss felt like his Fork was a bit chatty. If they were just contract emblems, couldn’t they behave and just be snakes?

Salaar finished tidying Myss’s attire and folded his arms with satisfaction. “Because it’s fun.”

Myss: “…?”

“I think as long as the contract exists, there’s nothing wrong with being a bit more honest with each other,” Salaar said. “And it’s good for you. You can’t see through my acting, but my Knife won’t lie.”

Knife nodded. “That’s right. I’m always honest.”

Lie. Myss suspected even Salaar’s mental state would lie; the brat’s very breathing wasn’t to be trusted.

But he was so tired he didn’t have the strength to quibble over details. He also hadn’t had a proper meal all day. The Abnormal Fruit was only absorbed by his magic. His body was still weak with hunger.

As they were about to leave the preparation room, Salaar waved him over.

Myss squinted and leaned in. A candy ball was shoved into his mouth again. He bit down on it instinctively. A blast of strong mint shot straight to his crown, and his tongue flooded with icy bitterness.

He snapped awake instantly, and right on its heels came killing intent.

How had he absent-mindedly trusted the guy again? Damn it, a contract didn’t mean he could drop his guard…

Before Myss could free his tongue, Fork poked its head out of his braid first. “Are you crazy? What the hell was that? I’d just fallen asleep and it froze me awake!”

“See? The mouth’s useful. At least it can speak for you,” Salaar said mercilessly. “Off you go, Mr. Pure Soul. We’ve got five gold rings to earn.”

With that, he crunched a mint himself and sucked in a sharp breath.

Outside, a sea of radiant celebration awaited.

The great magic array gleamed. Dawn spilled from the skylights and danced over white satin. Laurel branches were edged with delicate gold, and little silver bells threw specks of golden light and chimed softly in the breeze.

On one side of the array stood excited children and their parents. On the other stood a small wooden platform like a podium. Neatly stacked on it were name lists and record books—the kind Myss had seen in Scintilla’s memories but never clearly.

The hour had come. The magic crystals began a gentle yet solemn music.

Salaar and the other five Holy Guards wore ceremonial armor and took posts at the six points of the summoning array. Eight prominent “Disciples of Mercy” stood in finery, lined up behind the mage Fabian.

Myss held a basket heaped with white rose petals and stood at Fabian’s left hand. From there, he had a perfect view of the entire array.

He didn’t need the mint now to stay sharp—this was the perfect opportunity to study the Magibases.

He lowered his eyes a little, his pupils dilating slightly.

“Upper City, Alec Orff—!”

Fabian adjusted the alchemic device at his collar, his voice ringing like a bell.

A little boy in formalwear stepped forward. He was so nervous he nearly tripped, and a sheen of sweat spread over his plump face.

In his right hand he held the tusk of some large beast, pretty patterns drawn on it in gold ink. Step by careful step, the boy walked to the array’s center and pressed the tusk down.

At the same time, Fabian covered his lips and silently recited a long spell. The tusk melted into a soft white glow… A low humming sound resounded.

In under ten seconds, a Magibase squirrel appeared before the boy.

First a vague outline floated in the air, then the squirrel’s rough shape was traced. Finally, it grew vivid and solid, almost no different from a living thing. It lay curled up quietly, as if asleep.

The boy squeezed his eyes shut, face flushing red. When the squirrel’s image fully fixed, he and the squirrel opened their eyes nearly at the same time.

“A clever Atla red squirrel. Blessings, child,” Fabian said kindly.

Then he paused meaningfully for a few seconds and made a small gesture with his left hand.

Only then did Myss realize. He half-heartedly tugged up the corners of his mouth and tossed a handful of petals toward the boy.

Fortunately, the boy’s attention was completely on the squirrel. He cupped his newly born Magibase in both hands and ran excitedly to his parents, without asking Myss for any extra blessing.

“Upper City, Alice Burt—!”

Only after confirming the last child had run back to their parents did Fabian call the next name.

Alice Burt came forward carrying a vial of—who knows what’s—blood and summoned a flying squirrel. The little girl cradled it carefully, her gaze constantly flickering toward Myss.

Not good. Myss tensed, watching the little squirt slowly edge closer.

Little girl: “Sir, could you…”

Myss cut her off stiffly. “May you have exceptional wisdom.”

Little girl: “…Okay, thanks?”

He quickly scattered a handful of rose petals and fixed his smile by picturing Salaar choking to death on the mint candy.

Maybe youngsters have sharper instincts, because hardly any other kids came to bother Myss after that. The few brave ones only got the same cookie-cutter “May you have exceptional wisdom” and left disappointed.

Fabian’s face sagged a bit, but he couldn’t point to any real mistake, so he kept going.

Myss kept watching the Magibase summoning.

This batch of kids wasn’t very gifted; they called out small Magibase animals, the largest only an otter. Maybe small ones form too fast, because he could never see them clearly.

Until—

“Lower City, Willer—!”

The boy was grimy and scrawny, his clean clothes obviously just changed into. Several children wore similar burlap outfits—probably gifts from the organizers.

The boy pinched a tuft of pig bristles and, a little timid, placed it at the center of the array.

This time the array took longer than ever to react, the gentle white glow growing dazzling. The crowd pressed in, necks craning, tiptoes lifting, eager to see better.

Myss stopped hiding his eyes under his lashes. He lifted his gaze, and his altered eyes fixed on the light.

Now he could confirm it wasn’t his eyesight, but it was that his eyes weren’t strong enough.

When a Magibase takes shape, a fiendishly complex surge of magic wells up from the array, veiling the formation process. With Myss’s current power, he still couldn’t break that screen.

…It was the first time his “vision” had been blocked.

No one noticed Myss’s changing eyes; every gaze was pinned to the boy, Willer. The phantom before him grew larger and denser until a sturdy golden jackal appeared to all.

A mid-sized carnivore!

Spotting a talent dropping from the sky, Fabian’s voice shook with excitement. “A woodland golden jackal! A woodland golden jackal! Your future is limitless, child.”

The boy hadn’t come back to himself yet and shivered on instinct. People were crowding toward him, looking like they were about to tear him apart.

Panicking, he tried to hide the jackal and glanced around in fright, then his eyes fixed on a patch of white.

The “Pure Soul” beside Fabian gave him a… indescribable smile.

That beautiful face was tugged by the “something” behind it; the smile looked perfectly pure, but not very human.

“Come here.” He mouthed the command silently.

The boy walked over like he’d been bewitched.

At least there was no greed or fanaticism in that person’s eyes; only boundless stillness. That look made him feel safe.

No one stopped him; everyone figured he wanted a blessing.

Myss lowered his head and cupped the child’s fragile face, a few strands of hair slipping down. Keeping his pupils blurred, he stared straight into the boy’s eyes.

Under the alien gaze, the boy’s pupils dilated and dilated, squeezing his irises into thin rings. He trembled; his legs gave out, but Myss’s hands held him suspended in place.

“No—no! Get away!”

Beside the boy, the invisible jackal flattened its ears and whimpered in fear, but no one could hear its cries.

Myss peered with all his might.

Sure, he couldn’t see the forming of the Magibase, but he could see the changes it brought—

A brand-new magic circuit had appeared in the boy’s body, crudely made but complete. His magic was rapidly adapting to it, like water pouring into a fresh riverbed.

This was… Huh?

Something icy slid through the fabric and crawled up Myss’s bare back. A chill jolted him, and his altered eyes snapped back to normal.

“That’s enough. Don’t hurt the kid.”

The chilly something clung to his skin and paused at the collar hidden under his neckline. “Think about the five gold rings, Myss.”

Oh. Salaar’s snake.

“May you have exceptional wisdom,” Myss said dryly, ending the probe.

He withdrew his hands and tossed a handful of white rose petals over the boy’s face. Almost at the same time, a thread of golden light slipped into the dawn and brushed the boy’s features.

Petals scented with freshness drifted down. The boy woke as if from a dream and murmured, “Thank you.”

Then Fabian enthusiastically pulled him aside to introduce him to the bigwigs playing “Disciples of Mercy.”

Not a bad haul, Myss thought.

He subtly shook his collar, trying to dislodge the uninvited snake.

But it only slithered lazily over his shoulder, down along his waist, and finally coiled calmly around his ankle like a slick shackle.

…It seemed he wouldn’t be trying anything else until the ritual fully ended.

The rest of the ceremony was unremarkable; just another small-animal expo. Everyone’s attention stayed on the kid with the jackal, curious or envious.

Before the ritual even ended, the street urchin Willer had been taken as the adopted son of some Upper City gentleman. Willer looked totally lost; at the man’s request, the Magibase jackal revealed itself and pressed close at Willer’s feet.

The crowd whispered. From time to time someone mentioned Scintilla, that “unworthy prodigy” from ten years ago.

But that had nothing to do with him, Myss thought. His mind loosened all at once, and drowsiness swallowed him again.

Myss didn’t remember how he exited. He only knew that when he next came to, he was breathing outdoor air. His view bobbed slightly, with Salaar’s nape stretched across his vision.

…Wait. Salaar’s nape?

“Don’t squirm. He’s carrying you.”

Knife poked its little mouth from his hair. “Right after the ritual ended you were moving like a sleepwalker, and you made me dizzy too!”

“We’ve already collected the payment,” Salaar volunteered before Myss could speak.

Myss let out a breath, then started to fidget, only for Knife to cinch warningly at his ankle.

“I know you don’t like this. But it’s daytime—beating someone up in public isn’t a great look. This is the most normal posture.” Salaar turned his head, his voice tinged with laughter. “Or do you want me to hold you to my chest?”

Myss instantly quieted.

“Did you forget to lift your own mental suggestion? I’ll say it again, I’m not your mother.” He eyed Salaar, suspecting some twisted maternal love.

Salaar: “Ha, that was undone ages ago.”

“When?”

“Take a guess, My~ss~?”

Myss couldn’t be bothered and switched tracks. “Listen, I want to keep that crow priest.”

Salaar: “……”

The muscles in his back tightened. “Why?”

Myss laid out what he’d found in Scintilla’s memories and promptly added a disclaimer—he emphasized his magic hadn’t turned Scintilla into a lunatic or a demented woman; she’d fainted because she was too weak.

As for what he’d just discovered in the summoning ritual, he didn’t tell Salaar. Magibase summoning wasn’t closely tied to their case anyway, and he needed to keep a few cards up his sleeve.

“…Bottom line, the kid seems straightforward. If we’re investigating V.O.R., he’s our most useful help.”

That was Myss’s summary.

“Yeah.” Salaar sighed faintly. “I don’t entirely trust him, but that’s only part of it.”

“He’s just in his early twenties—too young. If I had any other choice, I wouldn’t drag him into our mess.”

“Unfortunately, it seems my options are currently limited.”

Myss glared at the back of Salaar’s neck.

At times like this he’d suddenly remember there was a three-hundred-plus-year-old soul in that body.

Right, even with a contract, Salaar wasn’t telling him everything. So far Myss’s knowledge of the man’s past didn’t go beyond that picture book, Brave Salaar.

“What kind of person is your mother?” Thinking of the “happy family” in the album, Myss suddenly asked.

Salaar’s steps hitched, and he stayed silent for a good thirty seconds.

“Take a guess, My~ss~?” he finally shot back.

He wasn’t guessing. Myss shut his eyes, drained. If Salaar’s mother had died on the Night Scourge, the topic would only get thorny.

Anyway, he’d gotten what he wanted—

Salaar hadn’t objected. Next they could adopt Abnormal Fruit Sniffer—no, they could team up with that priest.

Hunting Abnormal Fruit while digging into the truth of the body-swap ritual—sounded pretty good.

What was that priest’s name again… Karmen? Cullen? Hmm…

With pleasant hopes for the future, Myss curved his lips and drifted back to sleep in the sunlight.

In the shadow of the light, Salaar stared ahead and walked on, steady.

The smile on his face had vanished without a trace; there wasn’t a hint of expression.

---

The author has something to say:

A three-person party! Kalen successfully joins! But no one’s told Kalen yet (…

They can already queue for a dungeon: Mr. Myss, a powerful magic DPS; Mr. Salaar, a bruiser support; and Father Kalen, the tank with sky-high physical attack.

Next chapter officially wraps up arc 1 and opens up arc 2!

---

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

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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

---

Chapter 27: Three Letters

Scintilla gazed at the letter.

Her teachers from the Upper City had taught her not to approach suspicious magical phenomena. She turned by instinct, wanting to call her mother to come see. Then, she realized again that no one would ever answer her.

The moment reality sank in, even breathing became unbearable. Shaking, Scintilla climbed down from the chair and stumbled toward the letter.

Perhaps it was from her mother, worried about her and sending it from another world. Perhaps some great archmage had appeared to grant her the power to reverse time… Perhaps it was truly full of malice, and then it might as well kill her.

She only wanted to escape this moment.

Scintilla reached out a trembling hand and tore at the envelope three times before she got it open.

[Cut a lock of hair from the dead and use it as the sacrifice for the summoning ritual. You can bring back your mother.

Miss Scintilla, you’re a true genius. This is not taboo for you.

—V.O.R.]

The next day.

A teacher from the Upper City came to fetch Scintilla. He had specially prepared a tiger bone fragment for her to use as a summoning sacrifice.

Scintilla put the bone into her pocket. It was an excellent sacrifice, but she didn’t intend to use it.

She tied a lock of her mother’s hair with her favorite ribbon.

She carefully smoothed the dry, tawny strands and tied a bow with a white ribbon. She warmed it in her palms, pressed it tight against her heart, and made sure it stayed warm.

“Will Lady Philomina not be coming along?” the teacher asked by the carriage.

“Mother is feeling unwell today. I can go alone,” Scintilla said.

Like a little ghost, the girl crossed the dirt road, climbed the stone steps, and passed through the church doors framed by laurel branches and silver bells.

The other children’s noise sounded as if muffled by a film of water. She couldn’t hear anything. The splendid decorations around the ritual were like shifting mist. She couldn’t see anything.

She thought only of home, that little place where her mother always waited. The sunflower her mother had brought back with her own hands hadn’t yet withered. How could a person wither first?

Her heart pounded, yet she felt strangely calm. If the letter hadn’t lied, her mother could come home. If the letter had deceived her, then she would break a taboo and die, and go to keep her mother company.

Yes, she would see her mother either way.

…At last the court mage called her name. She stepped past gazes of expectation, curiosity, and envy, and walked to the center of the array.

She hid the hair in her palm and devoutly pressed her hand to the array.

In the next instant the taboo triggered. Pain swept her like a raging fire. Scintilla felt as if she had been stuffed into a meat grinder. Her eyes filled with tears at once, and she couldn’t even cry out. She nearly fainted on her feet.

Something took shape before the court mage, and she already knew its final form—a “fragment” of her mother.

The warm fingers that helped comb her hair, the tawny strands with their warm scent, the eyes that were always curved with a smile, the corners of the lips that smiled… That truly was her mother, warm and gentle.

But it wasn’t a complete “person”.

Those fragments drifted in confusion through her mind and churned her magic into a mess. Pale red magic was draining away at a terrifying speed, flowing into those fragments. It felt as if a wound had opened in her spirit and wouldn’t stop bleeding.

Just as she thought she would die, the loss of magic stopped abruptly, as if some balance had been reached.

The whole process took fewer than a few heartbeats, yet it felt like centuries.

Soaked in cold sweat, Scintilla couldn’t afford fear. She had only one hazy thought: if she grew a little older and her power a little stronger, could she summon back the complete form of her mother?

She must hide her mother first, or the court mage would capture her for breaking a taboo.

Forcing herself to stand straight, Scintilla hid her Magibase with all her might, exposing only the tip of a lock of hair and a pinky finger.

She wrapped the tawny hair tips around the little finger and let them float before the court mage.

A hubbub of exclamations seemed to rise around her, but she couldn’t hear a single word. It took everything she had not to faint, her eyes locked on what was before her.

“This…” Mage Fabian stared at the pinky that slowly writhed, thick with hair tips. “A caterpillar?”

Scintilla nodded with difficulty. Before the mage could verify it, she collapsed to the floor and gasped for breath as if suffocating.

The mage was startled and didn’t look closer. He cast a calming spell on her and told her guardian, her teacher from the Upper City, to take her away to rest.

From then on, Scintilla’s life began to sink.

At first, everyone waited for a miracle.

Magibases of famous mages were either enormous or of special species, so distinct that one could tell at a glance. Talented ordinary people usually summoned Magibases the size of a cat or dog. The genius Scintilla had summoned a caterpillar? Impossible.

But as the years passed, the “caterpillar” remained a “caterpillar”. Fewer and fewer important patrons were willing to sponsor Scintilla.

…Yet Scintilla was happy.

That broken Magibase couldn’t be shown in public, and her body had become very poor. But ever since she had it, she began to see her mother’s figure again and again.

At first her mother existed only in unseen corners: the fragrance of hot soup in the room, the scent on the pillow, the fresh herbs above the mantle.

Then came brief glimpses. Half asleep, she would see the familiar figure by the fireplace, feel the faint shift of the bed, and sense her mother’s cool caress.

Finally, one day four years later, she saw her mother whole. Healthy and beautiful, she sat in the rocking chair, mending clothes and smiling at her.

“Sweetheart, did you sleep well?” her mother asked in that familiar, gentle voice.

Not really. Over the four years her body had grown weaker by the day. Even standing made her dizzy.

Afraid of being exposed, she had almost shut herself in, throwing all her effort into researching Magibases. The “Magibase mother” had drawn vast amounts of her pale red magic, but the fragments only grew larger and showed no sign of returning to human form.

Her teacher had given up on her yesterday and demanded back tuition for the past few years. The last person supporting her was gone. Shopkeepers who had looked after her came calling, saying their favors had always been on credit and she in fact owed them a lot of money.

Even so…

“I slept very well, Mom.” Scintilla began to cry and reached her arms toward the mother in the vision.

Watching, Myss couldn’t help frowning.

Scintilla’s strange Magibase had clearly slipped out of control.

It drained her magic without day or night, and Scintilla was obsessed with the motherly illusion it created, making no resistance at all.

If it were an ordinary human, they would have been sucked dry at the moment of summoning. Scintilla’s talent was good, and by talent alone she had endured four years. At this pace, she wouldn’t live past ten.

He guided the black filaments and sifted through Scintilla’s decline, looking for variables within.

As luck would have it, the first variable appeared in her ninth year.

That day, Scintilla was hugging a bundle of old books and wobbling toward the Upper City.

Her old books couldn’t be sold to the rich, but poor scholars accepted volumes full of notes and dog-ears. Even a few silver shields would let her hold on for several more weeks.

She staggered through the crowd. Now and then, someone turned to look at her. Now and then her mother turned to look at her.

“Sweetheart, shall we go to the bookshop together?”

“Sweetheart, shall we visit the stalls together?”

“Sweetheart, I am with you.”

Her mother spoke gently until—

“Scintilla?”

Huey, carrying a bag of cookies, blocked her path.

Scintilla raised her eyes and stared blankly at the person before her.

Ah, this wasn’t her mother. Her mother wouldn’t suddenly grab her and pepper her with questions. Huey’s face shifted between “Mother” and “stranger”, as if reality couldn’t reconcile itself.

Huey thought she was afraid. He carefully crouched halfway and softened his tone as much as possible. “Scintilla, I’m a friend of your mother’s. You can call me Huey.”

“Scintilla, you don’t look well. Is anyone looking after you now? What about your teachers?”

Scintilla shook her head and continued to look at Huey in a daze.

Huey took a deep breath. “Those cold-blooded people… Child, I can’t get away right now. Go wait for me at the Hammer Tavern tonight. I need to buy some herbs for you. You can’t go on like this.”

“Take these and eat them first. They might be a bit dry. Remember not to drink cold water right away… Haa.”

He stuffed the cookies into Scintilla’s arms. They were greasy and heavy with sugar. Mother had not allowed her to eat too many of those, and she herself didn’t like overly greasy things.

So it truly wasn’t her mother.

That night Scintilla didn’t go to the Hammer Tavern. But Huey’s concern was like a draft slipping through the window seam. She suddenly felt a little interest in the world outside her small room. Only a little, but it was there.

She began to watch Huey and Hailey in secret.

Now and then she would take a roundabout route. She watched them happily buy cheese with berries at a stall, watched them cast trivial spells, and laugh at each other’s clumsy jokes.

Once in a great while, she found them quarreling. Then she would quietly cast memory magic to make them recall the good times.

But every time, every time, she never heard his knock at her door. It was always her mother reminding her that “Mother bought food,” and only then would she realize Mr. Huey had come by.

This couldn’t go on. Something wasn’t right, she thought. Perhaps she truly should consider asking for help.

“You have a letter. See who it’s from.”

Her mother suddenly came near and kissed her forehead. The kiss was warm and soft.

Scintilla lowered her head. She had received a letter from V.O.R for the second time.

Her mother had already opened it for her, or perhaps “she herself” had already opened it.

The letter said someone wished to discuss Magibase knowledge with her and was willing to provide ongoing consulting payment.

When she saw the research topic of that “Pilgrim”, Scintilla’s eyes lit up.

“Pilgrim” wanted to study the relationship between Magibases and the human body. Right, why had she never thought of that?

She could separate the Magibase and seal it inside a container. That way she could control the supply of magic and the Magibase wouldn’t continue to run wild. Even better, the person’s payment would be enough to fill her belly so she wouldn’t need to go out constantly.

Not only could she return to her normal life, but she could also keep her mother!

Scintilla immediately took up her pen and wrote the first letter to “Pilgrim”. When signing, she hesitated for a moment and changed the “Patient” she was about to write into “Patience”*.

*Clarity: She basically switches the meaning of her name by making the meaning less ambiguous. Before, the “Patient” she wrote refers to a sick person (a patient). She then changed it to “Patience” to refer to the adjective patient. Most likely this is intentional, as they both apply to her situation currently.

Everything wasn’t over yet. Everything would get better, she thought.

Humans are truly incomprehensible, Myss thought.

Intangible feelings could actually suppress the instinct to survive. And after all that, she still couldn’t let go of “Mother”?

Interestingly, whenever food appeared, Scintilla would still think of Huey. When she calculated magical formulas by the window, she would occasionally look outside for Hailey’s figure.

Those two forced her to remember that the mother before her was only an illusion… Speaking of which, what would happen if Scintilla fully accepted “Mother” as real?

This part wasn’t very interesting. Myss directed his magic to invade Scintilla’s last memories.

A noon two months ago.

Scintilla had nearly lost her senses. She couldn’t fully sink into delusion, yet she had no strength to be clear-headed, so she lived on the edge of madness.

But she no longer had any happy times of her own. Her “mother” was forever the mother from when she was five. Her mother’s gentle smile seemed sewn to her face and wouldn’t even quarrel with her.

Her mother wanted her to be happy and healthy. Yet she now had little happiness, and health was out of reach.

…Should she try to control her Magibase, or ask the adults for help?

…But what if the adults learned the truth and sealed her Magibase?

No, Scintilla shivered.

Then she would never see her mother again. She would never hear her mother’s voice or smell her mother’s scent. That suffocating night would return. She couldn’t imagine such a life.

Myss hummed with interest.

No wonder Scintilla hadn’t died.

Stimulated by Huey, her mind was no longer thrown wide open. Her subconscious began to reject the Magibase, and the rate at which it absorbed her power slowed a great deal.

He lifted his hand through that wavering time. The black filaments went deeper into Scintilla’s memories like a sharp dissecting knife.

The blade skimmed cleanly along flesh and bone, and Myss found the second variable.

It was a morning when Scintilla was eleven.

“Sweetheart, I bought you something tasty. I left it outside the door,” her mother said softly.

Scintilla struggled to get out of bed. Her stomach growled. She actually knew that wasn’t food her mother had bought… That was what Mr. Huey had bought for her.

At that point she was too weak to go out and had been without income for a long time. Huey came every few days, bringing coarse bread, salted meat, and seasonal fruit, and occasionally pastries with honey and butter.

They weren’t expensive, but they were very fresh and enough to keep her alive.

At night her mother held her as she slept. In the morning, when she opened her eyes, her mother looked at her from every direction. She pushed open the window, and one “Mother” after another passed below her window.

They prepared milk and bread for her, but she dared not eat. She didn’t even know what she would be putting into her mouth.

But she knew that death was close enough to touch. She could feel its chill.

At last she picked up her pen again and wrote a farewell letter to “Pilgrim”.

A taboo was a taboo. The miracle had never come, she thought wearily, and watched her mother carry the letter away.

But when her mother returned, there was another letter in her hand.

Seeing the familiar scarlet sealing wax, Scintilla felt nothing inside. She mechanically opened the envelope and read.

[Farewell, Miss Patience, my dear friend.

Fallen Child, we shall meet again in the season of harvest.

—V.O.R.]

Scintilla gave a tired smile and let her thin arm drop back to the desk.

Suddenly it was as if something bit her fingertip. Her pale red magic burst into countless filaments and wrapped her completely.

Her body gradually turned transparent. The air around her warped slightly, as if space itself had gone wrong.

In the next second the Scintilla in reality vanished.

And on the other side of the world, in the flesh-shrouded depths of darkness, a weak cry sounded.

Myss’s eyes flew wide.

He saw it with perfect clarity. The line “Fallen Child” lifted off the paper, transformed into a pea-sized white magic, and climbed onto Scintilla’s fingertip. It slid quickly to her chest and was hugged there by her without thinking.

Then it began to pulse gently, ravenously drawing in the magic around it, and gradually turned pitch black.

That was an Abnormal Fruit. No, more precisely, it was like the seed or pit of an Abnormal Fruit.

Those details didn’t matter. What mattered was that V.O.R had sown an Abnormal Fruit before his eyes, directly causing Scintilla’s mutation.

Such an unfathomable figure knew of Lord Karns and had clearly corresponded with him.

Compared to “Karns and his cronies messing with theory and accidentally summoning a Chaos Archdemon,” the involvement of a person like this made far more sense. Wouldn’t investigating this V.O.R first would be much faster than “aimlessly screening pen pals”?

Salaar had nearly let this earth-shaking clue slip by. So useless for a great hero. It had to be Myss himself. With one move he had seized a heavyweight piece of intelligence.

This would be enough to persuade Salaar and would make Kalen willing to go with them. Perfect.

The Demon Lord praised himself on the spot for ten seconds, then finally drew back the black filaments.

On the other side, the Magibase inside Scintilla had been annihilated, and its power swept away by the black magic. The little snake on his right wrist writhed in satisfaction and tickled.

Myss contentedly retracted the strands and withdrew his consciousness from Scintilla’s mind. Then he opened his eyes and was startled by the room full of brilliant gold magic.

Salaar’s flesh lute had disappeared at some point, and Scintilla’s missing body was healing rapidly.

This time Salaar’s treatment was very effective and met no resistance. Scintilla’s exterior became indistinguishable from an ordinary person, and even her excessive frailty had been remedied by Salaar. Unfortunately, the great hero couldn’t heal spiritual damage. The destruction done by the Magibase wouldn’t vanish in a short time, and she remained unconscious.

“Well done, Myss,” Salaar said with a smile as the golden light faded.

It happened to be daybreak. The morning sun spread into the room bit by bit, taking over from Salaar’s pale golden glow. In the dawn light, that face did not look so gloomy.

The little snake Knife reflected the warm sunlight and nodded gracefully. “An impressive rescue.”

“You’re not the one to boast!” Fork snapped up its head at once and hissed.

“And this wasn’t a rescue,” Myss said, lifting his chin and stressing the point. “Later I have to properly talk to you—”

Bang.

The mustached supervisor crashed the door open and strode straight into the room.

“What are you doing?” he shouted in anger. “Gone all day yesterday is one thing. You dare show up late today too?”

“The ceremony is about to start. You two, change clothes now!”

Myss: “…”

Wait, he remembered the ceremony should be tomorrow. Had they stayed a whole day and night in that anomalous space?

This was bad. His five gold rings!

“Our friend had some trouble. Sorry about that.”

Salaar shifted his body so the mustached man could see the weakened Huey and Hailey. “We’ll come right away. We won’t delay the children.”

Seeing acquaintances in poor shape, the mustached man’s anger dissipated considerably. He cleared his throat and tossed the bundle of clothes into Salaar’s arms.

“Alright then. Get yourselves ready, quick. I’m waiting downstairs.”

“Understood. Sorry to trouble you,” Salaar said, bowing his head honestly.

Myss deflated like a leaking bellows. Great. They had just saved the whole city. He had planned to sleep a long time, and now he had to keep working after an all-nighter.

What was the point of saving such a world? Better to let it be destroyed. Myss stared at the back of Salaar’s head in confusion.

“I’m not going.” Fork squeezed his wrist tight. “Did you hear me? I’m not going. I want to sleep here—”

“You’re going whether you want to or not. We got to do it together,” Myss said coldly.

“You inhuman—”

“We’re inhuman by nature.”

“… True.”

Two steps away came the echoes of Salaar stifling laughter with all his might.

---

The author has something to say:

The Demon Lord still isn’t used to all-night overtime, while the hero is already an expert.

In the last chapter someone asked why not let the little snakes swap colors. I actually thought about that at first, but it seemed more fun to have the two argue with versions of themselves(?).

I feel like if they used each other’s snake, one careless moment in battle and they would probably start infighting.

---

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

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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

---

Chapter 26: V.O.R

Kalen turned around.

After settling the patients, he put his shirt and priest’s black robe back on. He was even taller than Salaar. In the dim light, the priest carried an indescribable pressure.

Myss tensed his back warily. The silver snake Fork stirred restlessly.

“Ah, your goal isn’t the plague? …Then you two aren’t secret investigators from the capital?”

Kalen spoke in surprise, looking a bit troubled, and that pressure popped like a soap bubble. Outside the window, a few crows softly cawed, inexplicably sounding like sighs.

Myss and Salaar: “…”

It was one thing to fool Hailey with that talk, but why did this guy believe it too?

Leaving Salaar aside, even Myss had shown a glimpse of his true form before this man. Was “secret investigators from the capital” really that thrilling?

For a moment they couldn’t tell whether Kalen was acting or if his thinking was truly that simple.

Kalen clearly noticed their speechlessness and explained nervously, “I first thought it was a lie, but you risked your lives to save us, so I felt it might be true… I’m sorry. I was raised in the countryside of Atla and don’t understand the bureaucracy here very well.”

“But don’t worry. I’ll keep your peculiarities a secret. Where there is mystery, it’s shrouded in shadow.”

Is secrecy the point here? Salaar couldn’t help glancing at Myss.

Myss’s appearances were striking to the point of abnormal. After the battle, his inhuman traits had shown even more clearly.

In such a situation, people would usually be instinctively wary of Myss. Kalen, however, never reacted at all. They didn’t know if he was simply dull or if there was something else going on.

Come to think of it, the mysteries on Father Kalen were no fewer than theirs.

Not to mention those rings imbued with divine power, Kalen’s bodily recovery was also unheard of. He claimed he couldn’t use magic, yet Mina’s pale red threads had retreated on their own in front of him, as if something truly was protecting him.

Most interesting of all, he happened to share the same goal as they did.

Meanwhile Kalen was still marveling. “I didn’t expect you two to be nobler than I thought. Saving my life was a pure act of righteousness…”

Myss’s ears ached from listening. “Enough. We came for Scintilla.”

Kalen stopped and gave an enlightened “oh.”

“She used the alias ‘Patience’. She’s my pen pal.”

Salaar studied Kalen in silence for a moment, then picked up the thread at the right time. “She suddenly cut off contact two months ago, so we came to check on her.”

The smile on Kalen’s face froze. “Which pen pal?”

“‘Pilgrim’,” Salaar said. “I even have Miss Scintilla’s reply letters. Now it is my turn to ask questions, Mr. Rural Priest.”

He stepped forward a little. The silver snake slowly slid between his fingers.

“We did save your life. But your trust came too quickly, and what you told us was too far from common sense, as if you were deliberately misleading us. What are you hiding?”

“Miss Scintilla is an important friend to us. We’ll pursue this to the very end.”

“That’s right, to the very end,” Myss said, unusually cheering on the great hero.

After all, he really wanted to know where the marvelous Abnormal Fruit was.

And just like that, Kalen was pinned in place by two sharp gazes.

“God of Shadows, protect us. I didn’t think this through.”

Father Kalen heaved a long sigh and tugged at his sleeve a bit awkwardly. “I’m sorry. I did hide some things. I thought that since Miss Scintilla was already saved, there was no need to drag you two into it.”

He fell silent for a moment, added calming herbs to a cup of water, and handed it to Hailey. After making sure the girl was fully asleep, Kalen took a deep breath and stood before them.

However, just as he was about to start recounting a story from “a long, long time ago”, he was interrupted by Salaar.

Tap, tap.

The serpent staff became a lightsaber, casually held in Salaar’s hand. Knife’s tongue flicked lightly against his knuckles.

“Before you start, answer me this. How does a village priest know about the Abnormal Fruit that even the kingdom’s investigators are unaware of?”

“…If they knew of its existence, they would have screened the altered victims at once.”

Salaar took one step closer to Kalen.

The sword tip hissed across the floor. A presence that Myss knew all too well spread outward. That chill wrapped around a person layer by layer, as if he had plunged to the bottom of an icy sea.

Kalen seemed a bit short of breath. He loosened his collar and said, “Allow me to introduce myself again. I am a priest of the Order of Shadows. One of the missions of the Order of Shadows is to purge ominous signs like the Abnormal Fruit. The veil of shadow is inclusive, but it shouldn’t become a place for filth to hide.”

“We are few, but we have religious sanctions from the three major kingdoms. We’re nothing like those cultists, the Stargazers Society.”

So there are humans who specifically sought out the Abnormal Fruit, like truffle pigs. Myss was quietly amazed.

Salaar had never heard of the Order of Shadows, nor of that so-called Stargazers Society. His expression didn’t change. He took another step forward and stopped just half a step from Kalen.

“An inspiring creed,” he said flatly, the sword tip lifting slightly. “However, the mutants are that powerful, and the Abnormal Fruit that dangerous, yet the Order of Shadows lets its clergy operate alone?”

“For an investigation of this scale, there should be at least two people.”

At that, the calm Kalen had worked to maintain shattered at once.

The priest’s shoulders slumped, his face dimmed, and he looked terribly pained. The crows outside fell silent with him. They glanced at one another and finally lowered their heads together.

Salaar still didn’t let up, and the pressure grew heavier. It reached the point that Myss began to wonder whether he should intervene. This was a rare truffle, no, Abnormal Fruit finder. They ought to raise him.

“… It was my brother.”

Before Myss could decide, Kalen spoke again, now with bitterness and worry in his voice. “My partner is my brother. He went missing during our last investigation.”

“Missing?” Salaar repeated.

Kalen brushed a hand over the trouser pocket under his long robe and carefully took out two letters. He solemnly handed them to Salaar.

Salaar raised an eyebrow and accepted them with care.

The two letters looked identical. The envelopes were of the finest parchment, completely blank on the outside. The seals were scarlet wax with no imprint.

One was dusty, neatly folded, and carried the scent of dried herbs and ink—clearly it had come from Scintilla’s desk.

The other had been preserved with great care. The envelope didn’t have a single bent corner, but showed faint wear, as if someone had rubbed it over and over for a long time.

Salaar opened the first letter. Myss darted in close to read with him—

[Farewell, Miss Patience, my dear friend.

We shall meet again in the season of harvest.

—V.O.R.]

It was indeed Scintilla’s letter, but the contents looked normal, with nothing special on the surface.

Salaar looked up, about to ask a question, when Kalen gently shook his head and pointed to the second letter.

Salaar obligingly unfolded it.

[Farewell, Mr. Hemet, my dear friend.

We shall meet again in the season of harvest.

—V.O.R.]

Huh? Wasn’t this exactly the same content?

Myss couldn’t help clicking his tongue. “Who is this Hemet?”

“Hemet is my brother’s name.”

Kalen made the sign of the cross over his chest. His voice was a little hoarse. “In our last investigation we found that victims of the Abnormal Fruit had received farewell letters from V.O.R. Right after that my brother disappeared. At the scene there was only a farewell letter left behind, and traces of a struggle with blood.”

“Miss Scintilla received the same farewell letter. You saw her state. This V.O.R is extremely dangerous. I simply didn’t want to drag you two down with me.”

Salaar stared at the initials for a while, then put away the lightsaber. The pressure evaporated without a trace.

“Unfortunately,” he said slowly, “I think we’re already dragged in.”

Salaar clearly remembered that this V.O.R had written to Lord Karns.

In order to restore his own magic, Lord Karns used the alias “Pilgrim” and often posted bounty questions in various scholarly journals.

One day, a letter signed V.O.R appeared on his desk.

In it, V.O.R told him that he—or she—knew a genius well-versed in Magibases named “Patience”, and was willing to put them in touch. That was how Karns and Scintilla had connected.

Lord Karns had too many pen pals, and the contents of V.O.R’s letter were too ordinary. Salaar hadn’t paid attention to the name before.

“I did receive a letter from V.O.R, but not this kind of farewell letter,” Salaar said truthfully. “This person only introduced Scintilla to me, and we didn’t correspond again afterward.”

Kalen nodded. “You should be safe for now, but I recommend that you change residence and absolutely do not contact V.O.R on your own.”

We’ve done more than change residence. Lord Karns’s house had been burned down, Myss thought.

That said, did the summoning that brought him and Salaar into the human world count as an ominous sign?

Thinking that, he dragged Salaar over to sniff him. Sadly, Salaar didn’t have the Abnormal Fruit’s distinctive scent.

Salaar patted Myss helplessly and reclaimed his collar.

Then he looked at Kalen for a moment more. “Thank you for the advice. I’ll keep it in mind. And I apologize for earlier. A friend is in trouble, and I got a little heated.”

“I understand.”

Kalen carefully put the two letters away. After a few deep breaths, he was calm again. “Since the misunderstanding is cleared up, may I take Miss Scintilla home?”

“Of course,” Salaar said. “I have done my best to heal her. Any further spells would only delay the inevitable.”

Myss was a little unhappy.

He didn’t know what thoughts were going through Salaar’s head, but it sounded like they were about to part ways with Kalen. This was a rare Abnormal Fruit finder. If they let this one go, who knew when the next would appear.

Besides, leaving the connection aside, was the Abnormal Fruit not a lead in itself?

He had to think of a way to steer the situation…

Either make Salaar take an interest in the Abnormal Fruit or make Kalen stay of his own accord.

Myss’s gaze moved back and forth among Huey, Hailey, and Scintilla; his pupils gradually darkened like mist.

Yes, he had seen Mina’s magic. He knew how Mina cut Magibases, how she used memory, and how she fed power to Scintilla.

Myss shot a glance at Salaar, then directly yanked Hailey and Huey awake.

Salaar’s gaze swept back almost instantly. He watched Myss quietly and didn’t stop him.

Once he was sure both of them had opened their eyes, Myss copied Salaar’s tone and said solemnly, “Scintilla is close to death. I know a magic that can restore her to normal.”

“It requires you to ‘contribute’ a little power. You will feel weak for a while, but it won’t be fatal. I need your permission now.”

Following Salaar’s pattern, surely Salaar wouldn’t make trouble again, right?

Before Salaar could speak, Kalen was the first to lift his head. “By the Lord of Shadows, can you bring her back?”

“Oh, it’s simple.” Myss glanced at Salaar from the corner of his eye. “Earlier she devoured Magibases to strengthen herself. I only need to use the same magic and transmit the Magibases’s power to her.”

“I’ll…” Kalen opened his mouth as if to volunteer, then remembered he had no Magibase. He slumped and moved to the wall. “I’ll keep quiet and never get in your way.”

Salaar reacted at once, his brow furrowing. “Impressive.”

If it were only restoring the human body, the required power wouldn’t be much, and a single person could bear it. Of course, if two people shared it, the damage would be even lower.

As for how to undo the mutation, Myss didn’t say outright, but he had some guesses.

Myss said proudly, “Hurry up. You cancel their mental magic first. I’m waiting for permission.”

Salaar didn’t move. He only looked at the uncle and niece, who were staring at each other.

“I have no problem. I’m in good condition,” Hailey said steadily. “Uncle said there’s nothing wrong with helping others, so why not?”

Huey, lying on the bed, looked equally calm and gave a slight nod.

“You heard them. Do it, Myss.” For some reason Salaar looked a little pleased.

“That guy is starting to smile again. It’s really annoying,” the little snake Fork twisted on the back of Myss’s hand grumbled.

“Not bad, you get it,” Myss muttered back. “Forget it. Let us hope we find some useful clues.”

After all, he only said he could save her. He never said he wouldn’t take the chance to do something else.

Myss drew a deep breath and carefully recalled the texture of the pale red threads. He condensed similar pitch-black filaments again, and this time he fully suppressed their annihilating power.

Imitating the pale red threads, he connected one end to the dry red strands on Scintilla’s body and coiled the other end around the two people’s Magibases.

Then his filament slipped and almost went splits on the Magibases.

Right, there was that problem. Salaar’s magic could block the plague’s erosion. The guy had done it on purpose.

Myss was just about to protest when a gentle lute sound rose.

To Kalen’s astonishment, Salaar straightened his left arm and created that flesh lute on the spot. Waves of gentle music spread out layer by layer. Hailey and Huey’s expressions didn’t change, but their Magibases were no longer as slick as before.

It was Mina’s magic property.

Myss recognized that damned sensation in an instant. It always forced him to think of the “most trusted” Salaar, which was infuriating.

“This way, the support is faster and controllable,” Salaar said. His gaze slid past Kalen without a trace and finally landed on Myss’s magic filaments.

The meaning was that he could interrupt the treatment at any time, the cunning guy.

Myss snorted and continued to imitate Mina in his own way. The black filaments coiled around the two people’s threads, drawing a little Magibase power bit by bit and transferring it into Scintilla.

Scintilla’s breathing immediately steadied, and a hint of color appeared on her face.

Myss kept his pupils in a diffused state and carefully observed the magic flow. Sure enough, he saw one tiny “endpoint” after another inside Scintilla. Those were the “spells” still operating that caused her body to be abnormal.

So it was indeed that clump of Magibase that was no different from minced meat.

Taking advantage of the outside magic still transfusing her, Myss sent more filaments into Scintilla’s body.

The filaments split into two routes. One went to those “endpoints” and neatly annihilated the deformed Magibases. The other continued to imitate the pale red threads and quietly entered Scintilla’s memories.

In an instant, Scintilla’s whole life unfolded before Myss like a bookshelf open for reading, and also like a perfectly dissected corpse.

It was only fifteen years. Myss quickly found the memories from ten years ago and began to read them.

The night before the summoning ritual, at Scintilla’s home.

Bottles and jars filled the shelves. Books were stacked neatly in the corner. There were no piles of books and parchment that blocked one’s feet, so the room looked much more spacious.

Fresh herbs hung above the fireplace. Milk simmered in the fire with a soft bubble. A cute checkered cloth lay on the small table, and in the vase stood a blooming sunflower.

Everything was in order, and the air was warm to an absurd degree.

Philomina held her clean and pretty daughter, sinking deep into the rocking chair as if she were a bouquet about to wither.

Unlike the Mina in their impressions, Philomina was thin, with a waxy complexion, and looked unhealthy. They didn’t seem poor, yet Philomina wore simple linen clothes.

“Sweetheart, remember. In all things be steady. Don’t show off too much.”

Mina—no, Philomina— gazed gently at little Scintilla.

“You’re too young and lack enough backing. Power that is too strong will only invite trouble… Mom only hopes you can be happy and healthy in this life.”

“But Mom, everyone is so happy,” Scintilla said in a childish voice. “The teacher said I’m a once-in-ten-years genius and said he’ll give me a lot of money. When I go to the bookstore to play, I can read whatever I want.”

Philomina moved her lips. The words reached her mouth, then were swallowed again under her daughter’s radiant smile.

In the end, she pressed a kiss on Scintilla’s forehead.

“Mom, the summoning ritual is tomorrow. After the ritual, you’re taking me to the stalls!”

Scintilla buried her face in her mother’s neck and rubbed affectionately.

“Alright.” Philomina patted her back lightly and smiled as she spoke.

“Mom, if I really am a genius, will I be like Lord Lagensia and summon a huge Magibase phoenix?”

Scintilla gestured excitedly. “Then you can hold me, my phoenix will carry you, and we can fly in the sky together, right?”

“Alright.” Philomina coughed twice and smiled as she spoke.

She stroked Scintilla’s hair with deep affection. Her hand was a little cold.

“Mom, after tomorrow I’ll be an amazing mage. Later let us live in the capital, alright?”

“Mom, I want to eat croutons. Tomorrow, can we buy more to bring home?”

“… Mom?”

Her mother didn’t answer. She became even colder than before.

As a child of the Lower City, Scintilla knew what that meant.

As her mother’s child, Scintilla also knew this day would come sooner or later. Her mother’s health had never been good. She knew that.

She had begged the lords of the Upper City to recommend doctors, but one doctor after another came and went, and her mother’s illness never improved.

Why?

Scintilla lay back in her mother’s arms without moving, trying hard to draw in the remaining warmth.

She didn’t actually want Lord Lagensia’s phoenix. She only wanted a Magibase strong enough to cure her mother… Why was her gift memory magic of all things?

“Mom, stay with me one more day, please.”

She pleaded through tears, as if that could bring her mother back. “You promised me that you would stroll the stalls with me tomorrow and let my Magibase carry you flying.”

“…You promised to stay with me.”

The familiar embrace slowly grew cold. The milk on the stove burned, giving off an unpleasant scorched smell.

In an instant the world turned cold and hard. It was dark outside the window, and she began to feel afraid.

Her panicked gaze darted around the room, trying to find a place to hide. Suddenly her eyes fixed on something.

A cute checkered cloth lay on the small table, and in the vase stood a blooming sunflower.

…And beneath that vase, an envelope condensed out of the darkness and appeared on the table out of thin air. In the center of the envelope, scarlet sealing wax reflected the firelight.

---

The author has something to say:

What the Demon Lord did here was essentially performing surgery while transfusing blood.

He really will do anything for a bite to eat.

And the honest priest really is an honest priest, a simple country boy…

---

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

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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

---

Chapter 25: A Contract Between Enemies

“I don’t know,” Kalen said.

Then it has nothing to do with you.

Myss couldn’t even wait to take it back. He opened his mouth to bite—his head just halfway forward when a pair of hands reached from behind and fixed his head in place.

Myss struggled forward with all his strength, his face stretched and distorted. Then, remembering he had hands, he tried to snatch the thing. Kalen stepped back two paces in surprise and held the black lump high.

“Don’t touch this. It’s very dangerous. Let me handle it,” he said with complete sincerity.

Those hands restraining Myss—Salaar’s hands—shifted and pulled Myss back into his arms. The great hero wasn’t in good shape; most of his weight was pressed down on Myss, making him feel as if he was being used as a crutch.

Just as the Demon Lord was about to explode, Salaar asked, “You don’t know what this is, but you know it’s dangerous?”

Kalen nodded solemnly. “Yes. I once saw it flatten an entire village.”

Myss immediately softened his struggling. The thing smelled so delicious it made his head spin, but he didn’t want his mouth blown off.

Seeing that Myss had calmed down, Salaar loosened his arms.

Myss’s clothes had been corroded into shreds, but parts of it were still being held up by his belt, so he wasn’t stark naked. Salaar’s clothes, however, had been reduced to pathetic strips, making him look rather unpresentable.

“It’s not convenient to talk here. Let us return to the church.”

Kalen took off his last remaining shirt and handed it to Salaar to cover himself—after all, there was a clear-headed little girl inside the church.

A few minutes later, inside the church.

“She’s Scintilla.”

Seeing the mutilated unconscious girl, Hailey recognized her at once.

Upon entering the church, Salaar had casually torn a piece of white silk from a statue. With quick hands he had fashioned a simple white robe for himself, making him look less miserable.

He then carried Scintilla onto a bench and skillfully cast healing magic. The pale red threads and memory fragments on her body hadn’t vanished, but her face regained some color and her breathing gradually steadied.

Hailey hesitated, then followed Kalen’s example, taking off her outer cloak to cover Scintilla’s curled-up body.

Myss didn’t care who Scintilla was. His gaze stayed hooked on that mysterious object, like a fishhook luring a fat fish.

Salaar sighed and clung close to Myss, prepared for any eventuality. He looked at the unnatural darkness outside the door and then at Kalen. “Would you mind explaining?”

The pale red threads had all broken and Mina was gone, yet that dreadful darkness still remained.

Even without eyes that could see through magic, Salaar could guess the core of this anomaly was not Scintilla or Mina but that strange lump—

Kalen was holding it carefully with both hands and now set it down gently on a flat ritual stone table.

“This time, thanks to you two, the disaster was lifted. Naturally, I owe you an explanation.”

After making sure the thing was safely placed, Kalen let out a long breath. “You two seem quite interested in the strange illness. In fact, Rosha isn’t the only place with ominous outbreaks.”

“In recent years, several places have experienced similar odd events—someone suddenly mutates, then drags everything nearby into hell. Those who mutate often have this thing on them.”

“At present it seems to be highly concentrated pure magic. The more grotesque the host’s mutation and the greater the number of people affected, the purer the magic power extracted into this thing.”

“It sounds like rose essential oil.” Salaar thought of the Magibases engulfed by the pale red threads. To get one gram of rose essential oil one must distill tens of thousands of roses. Then how much magic must be drained to form this?

No wonder Myss only found normal Magibases faintly fragrant yet couldn’t resist this “extracted essence” at all.

Kalen smiled. “Ah, my brother used a similar comparison. He also gave it a name: ‘Abnormal Fruit’.”

“He taught me the trick to dealing with Abnormal Fruit.”

“Deal with it? How?”

The moment the keyword came up, Myss’s ears perked up.

“There’s only one known solution: consume it using harmless magic until it is gone. Only when the Abnormal Fruit disappears will the anomaly fully dissipate,” Kalen said. “But the Abnormal Fruit is highly unstable. If someone tries to cut it or take it by force, it will explode on the spot.”

Myss’s face went pale, and he let out a sound almost like a sob.

Salaar forced his mouth into a flat line. He still had many questions but talking too much might push the Demon Lord into losing control again.

But one thing was certain, he couldn’t let Myss eat that thing.

If Myss got blown up, he might return to his original form; but if he absorbed all that magic, the balance of strength between them would shatter.

“Myss, don’t risk it this time. Its origin is strange. What if it’s poisonous?” Salaar whispered as he steadied a hand on his shoulder.

“Let us do as Kalen said and use a magic spell to consume it. While it’s being used up, you and I can watch carefully.”

Myss’s heart was shattered—yes, what else could he do but make it disappear from sight?

Calming down and thinking it through, earlier he and Salaar together barely subdued that monster… Even if this thing wasn’t toxic, its power was formidable; his human body might not endure it.

Until they found a safe way to handle it, it wasn’t worth dying for a taste.

… But it smelled so good. Damn it, he was starving.

Myss covered his face with both hands and slowly squatted down, not wanting to say a single word. He tried to hide his nose to block out that deadly scent.

“If you two have no objections, I’ll begin eliminating it,” Kalen said. “Please step back a little.”

Salaar didn’t move. “Must it be consumed by a specific magic? Would other harmless spells work?”

Kalen scratched his head. “As long as it is not destructive magic, theoretically yes… Would you like to try?”

He stopped moving and looked at Salaar inquiringly.

Salaar thought for a moment, broke off a small piece of white stone from the statue, and began drawing a magic circle on the floor.

Seeing Salaar, who usually cast spells barehanded, actually drew a proper magic array, Myss couldn’t help raising his head and secretly peeking through his fingers.

That guy must have borrowed Lord Karns’s knowledge. The circle looked decent and contained many runes Myss had never seen.

“Myss.” Salaar seemed aware he was peeking and spoke without looking up. “Don’t you think there’s a problem between us?”

Myss frowned. “Hmm? Is there a problem between us?”

Then he had better quickly address any gaps.

Salaar glanced at him and whispered, “Fine, let me rephrase. Earlier in the fight you got distracted. Were you doubting me?”

Salaar knew he had made mistakes while in his support, but he hadn’t expected Myss’s reaction to be that big. He thought Myss had long since engraved ‘Salaar is untrustworthy’ into instinct.

This realization left him feeling… complicated.

Myss didn’t reply.

Being distracted during battle was humiliating but having your archenemy guess the reason why was even worse. He decided to play dead on the spot.

“I know what worries you. You fear I’ll discover the truth first and stab you in the back. But if we’re always on guard, we can’t fight at full strength. That’s a serious problem.”

Salaar tapped the ground with the stone. “We don’t need to talk about meaningless ‘trust’. Let us just make a contract—using the Abnormal Fruit as material, the magic effect will be absolutely guaranteed.”

A contract?

Myss finally lifted his head and raised his eyebrows.

“Before uncovering the truth about the body-switch ritual, you and I must share all related information and can’t lie or hide anything.”

“Before uncovering the truth about the ritual, you and I must guarantee each other’s safety and can’t act passively.”

“Before uncovering the truth about the ritual, you and I must stay close and can’t leave without permission.”

Salaar stated each clause emphatically while he fixed his gaze directly at Myss, as if he was trying to catch every smallest reaction.

“…Well? This way there’ll be no ‘I found the truth but kept silent.’ After the truth is known, who lives or dies will depend on skill.”

Myss thought for a while, then stood up. “Fine.”

Good enough. The Abnormal Fruit would stay with him in another form; his pent-up grievance eased considerably. And he truly didn’t want to be constantly suspicious, with his mind always on Salaar. A contract would make things simpler.

“But I’ll cast with you. You’d better not pull any tricks.” Myss pointed at his eyes. “I can see things very clearly right now.”

Salaar smiled back.

“Have you two decided?” Since they had lowered their voices, Kalen had politely kept his distance.

“Done, Father.” Salaar patted the white stone dust off his hands. “Please bring the Abnormal Fruit here and teach us the process.”

It turned out to be much simpler than they expected.

Kalen only asked where the center of the array was, then placed the plump Abnormal Fruit right on top.

“It’s a bit like a lost ancient alchemy. I heard this kind of magic is extremely complicated.” He peered curiously at the array. “Are you an alchemist?”

“No. I’m just a scholar who likes researching history,” Salaar said calmly.

At the edge of the round-table-sized array, Salaar and Myss stood facing each other. Salaar extended one hand and chanted a long incantation that Myss couldn’t understand.

The array lit with a gentle, brilliant gold glow, and the pitch-black Abnormal Fruit gave a slight wriggle.

Wave after wave of magic surged out like a tsunami, blowing both their hair sideways.

Countless gold motes danced above the array, drifting around the two of them and forming a splendid band of light like a Möbius strip.

Soundless information flooded into Myss’s mind. It was the three terms Salaar had just stated.

Salaar hadn’t tampered with it. The information was even more precise and detailed than his spoken wording, watertight in every respect.

If either of them broke the contract, their power would vanish immediately and wouldn’t return until the other party chose to forgive them.

“…Contract confirmed. Offer perfect metal imbued with essence,” Salaar intoned.

What’s that supposed to mean? Myss looked at him, puzzled.

Salaar didn’t bother to explain. He took out the ritual dagger made of pure silver and sliced open his own palm. The silver-white blade, covered in blood, dropped into the gold light of the array.

It didn’t hit the ground but melted into a small silver-white sphere and floated slowly on one side of the array.

Myss suddenly understood. He felt around in his shredded clothes and pulled out the nearly ruined silver dining fork.

The warped fork pricked his arm, then fell with his blood into the array and immediately became a silver sphere of the same size. The two spheres orbited the array, circling closer and closer. The Abnormal Fruit dissolved at high speed, and the two spheres grew ever more dazzling.

At the instant the fruit disappeared, the spheres merged into one and turned into a silver… egg.

Myss: ?

Crack.

The array slowly dimmed. The silver egg split open in front of him and two tiny silver snakes crawled out. They floated in midair and slithered toward Myss and Salaar respectively.

Myss instinctively held out his hand and allowed the snake to coil around his right arm. It had eyes like garnet, its skin shone with a dark silvery gray, and it carried a faint metallic texture.

Just looking at it gave Myss a strange sense of intimacy, as if it was a part of him.

The other snake flew into Salaar’s hand.

With a flash of silver light, that snake turned into a single-serpent staff. Its length matched an ordinary walking stick, its color a subdued silver gray. A slender silver snake coiled at the head of the staff, its eyes like inlaid lapis lazuli.

“The air outside is really fresh.”

The snake, which looked like a mere ornament, actually opened its mouth and spoke.

Myss stared at it in shock, then looked at his own snake. His snake was busy yawning, exposing tiny fangs, with no time to talk.

“This is the embodied symbol of the contract. In a sense, it is one with us,” Salaar said. “I thought the Magibases were an interesting idea, so I tried something similar.”

“You can turn it into a weapon, like this—”

Salaar flicked the serpent staff. The snake instantly formed a hilt-like structure at the head, while the lower half of the staff was wrapped in brilliant gold light and became a slender blade.

A delicate lightsaber appeared before Myss. The power of the Abnormal Fruit had fused into it perfectly. A faint pressure emanated from it, far stronger than that ritual dagger had ever been.

Tap. Tap.

The tip touched the floor twice. The gold faded at once, and the lightsaber returned to a plain serpent staff.

“That tickles,” the snake said again.

…This is amazing! Salaar actually had such a miraculous use for it!

Myss immediately looked at his own snake and began considering what to make it become.

A dagger?

No, not quite right. He mainly used magic to eliminate enemies, so a wound from the slightest stab from a dagger was negligible. The earlier use of a dining fork had only been to provide an anchoring point for his magic.

A bow and arrows?

That would fit his ranger persona, and long-range attacks suited him. But a longbow was bulky, and drawing and shooting was troublesome. Myss felt a headache just thinking about it.

If only he could combine the two.

In a flash, the image of Salaar raising a dagger and firing flames crossed his mind.

The silver snake moved on its own, coiling around Myss’s right wrist. A moment later it fixed its body in place, its head resting on the back of Myss’s right hand.

At first glance it looked like a silver bracelet in the shape of a serpent. Myss, however, caught the idea at once. It was essentially a refined wrist crossbow.

He lifted his hand and moved his will. A jet of pitch-black magic shot from the snake’s mouth like a viper spitting venom.

The shot grazed Salaar’s foot and ate a bottomless little hole into the floorboards.

Myss and the silver snake both cried out “Wow!” at the same time.

This thing was even more handy than he expected, and its attack coverage was quite flexible. In close quarters he could even have the snake bite directly.

“How is it?” Salaar winked at him.

“I’m naming it ‘Fork’.” Myss stroked the silver snake in satisfaction. Its touch was cool and silky, and it gave off a faint pleasant scent.

Fork narrowed its eyes at him and said in a shrill voice, “Your taste in names is awful.”

Myss narrowed his eyes right back. “If you want to live, keep quiet.”

Salaar chuckled and coughed twice, then waved his own serpent staff. “Then I will call this one ‘Knife’. It’s basically a knife transformed.”

Knife: “That’s truly a… unique name, beyond my comprehension.”

Salaar: “Really? Thank you for the compliment.”

Clap, clap, clap.

Kalen applauded from a few steps away, wearing the same astonished look as Myss.

“This is the first time I have seen such wondrous alchemical magic,” the priest exclaimed. “Congratulations on successfully, uh, giving birth to new life…?”

Myss and Salaar both fell silent.

After a few seconds, Salaar gave a dry laugh, thanked him, and used magic to erase the traces of the array on the floor.

“But the anomaly here hasn’t disappeared,” Kalen said, glancing toward the door. “Sir, did you overlook something?”

“No. There’s indeed a tiny remaining portion of the Abnormal Fruit. Only a very, very small bit,” Salaar said, then produced a candy ball as if by sleight of hand.

Myss couldn’t fathom it. This man’s clothes had nearly fallen apart earlier. The ritual dagger was one thing, but this was somehow still around.

He was in no mood for such details now. From that candy he smelled an extremely alluring fragrance.

It was the scent of the Abnormal Fruit. It wasn’t as intense as the fruit itself, but exactly the same in flavor, most likely the residual crumbs of the contract magic.

“Eat it,” Salaar said, tossing it to him. “In such a tiny amount, even if it is poisonous, it won’t matter.”

Myss popped the candy into his mouth without hesitation.

Curiously, his sense of taste didn’t react. The fragrance felt more like a guide, as if his instincts had borrowed human senses on purpose just to secure his attention.

As the fruit’s magic seeped into him, Myss felt vividly and unmistakably alive. It was an incomparable comfort, like a newborn taking a first breath.

In truth, Myss could more or less guess Salaar’s motive.

If he kept brooding over this, it wouldn’t benefit anyone. The great hero was cooling a powder keg. Myss couldn’t resist such bribery though. The contract first and the candy after; Myss’s dissatisfaction vanished to the sweetness.

“I’ve decided not to resent you for now.”

Myss devoted himself to savoring the magic. His whole body tensed, and the corners of his eyes grew faintly moist.

“That’s truly my honor, My~ss~,” Salaar said cheerfully.

……

The candy melted, and the illusion quietly collapsed.

Faint voices drifted from the nearby street. The damp, fishy odor fully dispersed, and the air turned dry and clear.

The church was still the same church, but the sky outside the door had brightened at once. Myss looked up and saw the spire intact, all the damage from the battle gone without a trace.

The hot, rank air, the membranous sheath covering the city, the windows lit from within—all of it had felt so real. Yet the twisted monster nurtured there had never managed to be born.

Only the contract’s silver snake still lay on the back of Myss’s hand. Its cool, slippery touch told him the past events hadn’t been false.

At last, the Abnormal Fruit’s remnants were completely digested by Myss. Mina’s distorted memories faded, leaving only a light impression that could no longer stir any emotion.

In the very end, Myss seemed to hear a soft sigh.

“Who goes there?!” A roar followed at once, making Myss jump.

—People in disheveled clothing had appeared in the church, creating quite a suspicious scene. The night watchman swung his lantern and shouted them out.

Scintilla, whose appearance had grown abnormal, was wrapped in silk and was being floated by Salaar. Huey was still unconscious and was carried on Kalen’s back.

Hailey ran ahead to lead the way. She moved through the night with practiced ease and guided them straight to the Hammer Tavern.

Since the bird-beaked demon had appeared, the tavern had far fewer guests. Even so, at the sight of this particularly strange group, a wave of whispers and exclamations rose. Hammer silenced the curious patrons with a look and pointed upstairs.

“I’ll get you something to eat in a bit. Tell me what herbs you need,” he whispered.

…And just like that, Scintilla and Huey took the beds that should have belonged to Myss and Salaar.

Myss was in a good mood, savoring the candy, so he decided not to pursue the matter for now. He leaned against the corner and watched the busy humans.

Perhaps because he had newly gained the fruit’s power, Salaar generously cast cleansing spells and removed all the grime from everyone.

Earlier, to attend the exorcism and blessing, Salaar had only worn a loose old outfit. Now he pulled out that dark-blue formal suit again and changed quickly in the corridor. Paired with the newly acquired serpent staff, he looked even more like a proper scholar.

“Mr. Huey has nothing serious. His magic fluctuations are a bit weak. Slow recuperation will suffice.”

After carefully checking Huey’s condition, Kalen looked relieved. A few more crows had gathered outside the window, hopping along the sill and gently tapping the glass with their beaks.

Kalen smiled and waved to them, then went to check Scintilla on the other bed. At the sight of the girl’s terrifying alteration, that trace of relief vanished at once.

Half of Scintilla’s body was gone, leaving only pale red threads tangled into a mass. They drooped dryly like plant roots withered by drought.

Myss narrowed his eyes, trying to observe the Magibase inside Scintilla. He found only a broken, indescribable clump of something. It was less like a living thing and more like scraps of meat on a butcher’s board.

Salaar stood beside him and watched in silence as well.

“Miss Scintilla’s situation isn’t optimistic.” Kalen sighed. “Forget recovery. I have never seen someone altered like this return to human form. Mr. Myss being able to separate her human body at all is already an extraordinary feat.”

Salaar looked at him noncommittally. “So?”

“So I’ll look after her until the very last moment,” Kalen said softly. “How about I take her home, and you two look after Mr. Huey and Miss Hailey. If anything else comes up, find me at Scintilla’s house anytime.”

“The Abnormal Fruit is gone, and the strange sickness won’t recur. Your investigation can be wrapped up.”

“Is that so?” Salaar crossed his arms. Knife flicked its tongue.

“I never said our goal was to investigate the ‘Lower City plague’.”

“As it happens, when I last visited Scintilla’s home, something seemed to be missing from her table… Of course I don’t mean the lantern.”

“Father, what’s that letter in your pocket?”

---

The author has something to say:

The pets are here!

Yes, I declare they have two children, blood-related (…)

Two adorable contract snakes to make up for the fact that neither of them has a Magibase, and they even come as a matching couple—

---

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

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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

---

Chapter 24: A Fleeting Glimpse

Through all that long time, Salaar had never seen Myss’s true face.

In boundless darkness he could feel countless lines of sight coming from Myss. In dim light he had seen innumerable tips of tentacles.

He sketched the shape of that vast alien being in his mind bit by bit. Perhaps It was a soft-bodied creature with innumerable tentacles. Or perhaps It hid carapace, scales, and teeth deeper within.

…Would It be like a bird or a fish? Like a snake or a wolf?

…Would It be like a dragon? Or perhaps the giants of human fantasy?

Now, he had part of an answer.

No, Myss was like nothing at all.

No familiar tentacles, no supple flesh. For one second Salaar wasn’t even sure it was a “living thing.”

Myss hung unnaturally in midair with locked joints. The limbs on one side had been corroded away, and the wounds shed dense black mist.

It wasn’t formless dampness, more like some shattered particles. They moved in a terrifying, seductive pattern and spread outward into a broken radial structure.

It was like a beautiful, pitch-black sun.

It was a strange ethereal beauty. Rather than a wonder born of life, it belonged closer to mathematics: simple, cold, absolute.

A strange thought struck Salaar. If the concept of “end” itself could be observed, it would probably look like this.

Unfortunately, it was too young and too incomplete. It didn’t feel like Myss’s true form at all, more like a tiny corner of Myss’s real body.

Yes, that human shell was only a hole. Salaar could only snatch a glance at the “colossus behind the hole”. Yet the moment the darkness bared a hint of its true face, the “human Myss” shell was about to collapse.

It wasn’t only Myss’s flesh that was collapsing.

Where the black “sunlight” fell, the umbilical cord turned into squeaking fragments. Its regeneration was close to zero and they were on the verge of snapping.

At the end of the cord, the infant writhed uneasily. In its amniotic fluid it opened its mouth and cried without sound.

More memory fragments surged in as if to weave layer after layer of swaddling, desperate to heal its wounds faster. Countless pale red filaments drew back from the dark. Some tips still clung to incomplete Magibases. They ground them up at once and fed the body with purified magic.

Hundreds of Minas crawled over the monster’s surface and bent to stitch the ruptures. They no longer insisted on “restoring the original”. They stacked patches in haste. With such slapdash mending, the monster gradually lost its human shape and grew ever more twisted.

The battle shifted from mutual destruction to a race between ruin and regeneration.

Perhaps the human shell limited His power. Myss’s pace of destruction couldn’t keep up with the Minas’ speed of repair.

He struggled toward one particular direction, yet the monster’s flesh blocked Him again and again, slowing Him to a crawl.

His human body necrotized and sloughed under the black radiation, like a snakeskin about to be shed. If this continued, “Myss” would vanish.

No, Salaar thought. Not now. He still wasn’t sure what would happen.

Myss might die, might lose control. In the worst case His will would return to that boundless dark and then descend upon the world.

“Don’t come closer.” Salaar tossed the words to Kalen and dove for that black sun.

Near that uncanny splendor his own flesh hissed as it corroded and split, then regenerated under the nourishment of golden light.

Enduring the pain of being burned alive, Salaar charged straight to Myss’s back and wrapped both arms around what remained of his torso.

He squeezed every drop of power from his body and poured all he had into healing that shell. Myss’s flesh regrew fast and sheathed the black mist, only to be burst apart by it again.

…Myss himself gave no response, intent only on flying in that one direction.

“Myss.” Salaar forced a voice through a mangled throat. “Myss, no.”

Black blood streamed from Salaar’s eyes, his eyeballs shriveled at speed, then regained luster in a flood of golden light. Even so, he never looked away.

He clenched his teeth, and his flesh began to proliferate unnaturally. He bandaged Myss’s wounds with his own skin and rammed the rampaging darkness back into Myss’s body.

It was a horrifying “embrace”. At a glance he looked like a wax statue melting over a branding iron.

Myss finally sensed the obstruction. His human shell convulsed and gave a broken cry.

It irritated Him—He knew exactly where He should strike, yet He couldn’t squeeze out enough magic, and the body wouldn’t obey His commands. This human flesh was truly clumsy and hard to use.

Right then He wanted only to cast it off and be rid of every hateful shackle. Even if His thoughts and feelings slipped away with it, what would be so bad? He had never needed that noise.

But Salaar’s flesh pushed into His wounds and locked Him tight inside the shell.

The man even bared his own heart; the beating organ pressed to Myss’s back. The instant it brushed that heart, His runaway power froze for a moment.

Just like their first grappling match on arrival. By some unknown law, He simply couldn’t kill Salaar.

Salaar didn’t miss the opening. Dazzling golden light burst outward like an explosion.

New-grown flesh wrapped the black mist and Myss’s body knit together at speed. The agony melted away like snow. In a daze, He recovered a sliver of reason.

Salaar’s build was much larger than Myss’s, and the embrace from behind almost embedded Him in that body.

The enemy’s warm flesh pulsed gently inside Him… within his wounds. The sensation defied description and Myss broke out in goosebumps on the spot.

Myss twisted in displeasure. “You—”

The moment he opened his mouth, something round and plump filled it.

It was a raspberry-flavored candy ball, still smeared with a touch of sweet blood—Salaar’s blood.

…The act was baffling. Myss froze where he was, jaw locked around the candy.

“Such a temper. Looks like you are hungry.” Salaar spoke in fits and starts, and he sounded relieved.

The great hero spoke with ease, yet his body was in tatters. His clothes were rags, and his skin was all torn gashes. The abnormal overgrowth of flesh withered and sloughed away. Cold sweat slicked him, his body trembled faintly, but his expression stayed quite calm.

At last his gaze left Myss and turned to the monster.

A moment ago, Salaar had been busy restraining Myss, and no one had time to attack. The two of them ended up crushed tight in the monster’s embrace, and only Salaar’s protective magic kept them alive, yet—

Crack. The tottering barrier split with a fissure. Warm memories from mothers flowed slowly, and countless women’s arms reached out for them from the shards of memory.

Crack. Myss bit down and shattered the candy. The sweet aroma pushed back that trace of blood.

He still didn’t trust Salaar. But he also knew this absolutely wasn’t the time to argue.

Myss tried to recover the feel of his earlier attack. For the moment his power was stable inside him, and his senses weren’t as sharp as when he lost control.

Fortunately, his new ability hadn’t vanished completely. Myss focused, and his pupils blurred and warped like mist. Through a thousand obstacles he could vaguely see the shadow of the “end”.

“We can only attack that infant. The rest of this thing is kneaded from memories and can regenerate without limit,” he said irritably. “I will settle accounts with you later…”

“There’s nothing in this world that is truly limitless, especially not memory,” Salaar said quietly, without loosening his embrace.

Myss shifted uncomfortably. “Thanks to you, now, even I can’t make these memories disappear. Unless you have Mina’s skill and can twist them all.”

“Twist?”

“Twist, pollute, understand it however you want,” Myss snorted. “Either way, the infant is the true body. It’s constantly drawing on ‘motherly’ memories. As long as the people of Rosha aren’t all dead, it has an endless supply.”

Salaar suddenly smiled.

They were so close that Myss could feel the vibration in Salaar’s chest.

“That is convenient,” he said weakly. “You know I am very good at mental magic.”

“Since it needs happy memories, we only have to pollute them all with painful ones.” Salaar’s tone grew indistinct. “Very good. If the need were reversed, it would be troublesome…”

Myss nearly laughed from anger. “That’s the memory of an entire city!”

“But I’m truly very good at mental magic,” Salaar said in an elusive way. He tightened his hold as if a drowning man clutching driftwood, squeezing Myss enough to make him struggle.

Then he shoved Myss away.

“Go finish what you started,” Salaar whispered. “This time I’ll give you the best footholds.”

Only then did Myss notice the dense sheath of golden protection covering him. Salaar pushed with great force and flung him directly toward the infant.

At the same time, the shield around Salaar shattered on cue. He became the perfect decoy and was swallowed entirely by the monster’s embrace.

In the last instant before the hero disappeared, amid the kaleidoscope of memory shards and the gaps between countless arms, Myss saw that familiar blue eye.

It curved slightly, and that trace of a smile felt like a blessing.

Before Myss could recover, an anomaly burst forth.

It was as if the monster had been splashed with invisible strong acid. The warm memory fragments dimmed rapidly and turned a murky gray-black. The pale red threads withered and curled. Despair spread like a plague… Just as Mina once overlaid their memories, now a tidal wave of pain overlaid them in return and devoured all that was good.

The memory fragments peeled away in layers like dead skin, and the pale red threads snapped to the last. The monster couldn’t keep its footing and toppled toward Myss.

At that moment the shield burst into countless lingering golden shards. Myss stepped lightly on them and shot like an arrow toward the struggling infant.

The monster tried to swing its limbs to block, but with its memories wholly polluted, it couldn’t retrieve a single shred of “happiness”.

Rip!

Hot fresh blood splashed out, staining the spire and speckling the tips of Kalen’s shoes.

Myss pierced the infant’s heart. Pitch-black magic spread without the slightest drag. It split on the spot into several chunks and collapsed into the air.

And the sweetest thing, Myss’s first spoils, was clutched tight in his hand.

It was a thin little girl, curled like a fetus. Shimmering scraps of memory still clung to her skin, and most of her body had already turned to red threads. The girl was probably still alive. Myss could hear her heartbeat.

The distortion and madness ebbed away. The smiling Minas vanished one by one… until only she remained.

Unfortunately, Myss had no time to savor his feast. With the infant gone, the vast body made of memories also turned to ash, and Salaar was about to fall.

As much as he hated him, the guy couldn’t die now.

Kicking off the remaining golden glimmers, Myss streaked straight for Salaar. When he landed again, he had a human in each hand, and luckily neither had shattered.

Myss tossed the half-unconscious Salaar aside, rolled up his sleeves, and rushed the girl. He was just about to deliver the killing blow—

“My God, you’re a remarkable hero.”

Kalen had somehow followed. His face was full of sincere awe, and the black blood beneath his eyes hadn’t yet been wiped clean. “Sorry, sorry. Seeing the way you looked earlier, I misunderstood again…”

“You want to save her first, right? Please, let me!”

Myss: “?”

No, you really misunderstood. I was about to kill her.

He was dumbfounded for only a few seconds before Kalen darted in and pulled something from the girl’s arms—

Myss: “…!!!”

That was it. That was exactly what he wanted!

The thing sent the Demon Lord reeling so hard he nearly lost his balance.

It was a lump of soft black flesh about the size of a round bun. It swayed gently in Kalen’s palm, its surface pulsing slightly, like a heart made of pudding.

Myss wrung out every drop of self-control in his life and swallowed back the saliva threatening to spill out. “You know what this is? …What is it?”

---

The author has something to say:

Myss: I’ll deal with Salaar later, for now just let me eat.jpg

Myss: ? Don’t take my food.

Salaar: (secretly observing)

This definitely isn’t Myss’s full form, no way everything gets revealed in Volume 1.

Next chapter reveals the source of the plague, story finale——!

Will the Demon Lord actually get to eat this meal? Food food!

---

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

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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

---

Chapter 23: The Predator

When she saw the unconscious Huey, Hailey neither cried nor made a fuss.

She simply walked quickly over and sat down beside him. Instinctively she tilted her body and leaned lightly against her family, like a bird returning to its nest.

The monster scrabbled restlessly along the outer wall, the rustling friction echoing inside the church.

Myss rubbed his empty stomach, his gaze tracking the source of the sound. That fragrance still clung to the tip of his nose and teased his appetite.

Just as the priest had said, the thing could only move outside the church. It was as if there were an invisible door at the entrance that kept it firmly out.

A perfect stronghold, very suitable for a brief rest. That priest did pick the place well… Myss couldn’t help wondering how long it would hold.

On the other side, Salaar studied the summoning array for a while, then looked up at the priest.

The priest wasn’t wearing the bird-beak demon outfit. Perhaps because his face was so friendly, he still looked tall, yet the sense of pressure he gave off had dropped by a large margin.

“We know who you are, so let us skip the pleasantries,” Salaar said. “This is already the fourth time we have met, ‘Mr. Demon’.”

“Thank you for saving me.”

The priest brushed the dust from his black clothes and offered a proper bow. “I’m sorry. Earlier I mistook you for the ones spreading the sickness and caused you trouble.”

“Yeah, you are a huge pain.” Myss turned his head. “Openly running around scaring people, secretly trying to prevent and treat the plague all by yourself. One moment the city lord’s soldiers are chasing you, the next you’re being informants to them… It makes no sense at all.”

Salaar: “…”

Salaar rubbed his temples. “Although this guy is very rude, I was going to ask you much the same thing. Father, why did you not cooperate with the people of Rosha?”

The priest let out a long sigh, as if he had been waiting for this question.

“Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Kalen, a priest of the Order of Shadows.”

His voice was clear and paired with that gentle face he seemed like a harmless herbivore.

He took off his blood-stained black gloves, revealing two healthy-looking hands. On the middle finger of each hand, he wore a bone ring.

“The situation is urgent, so I’ll not hide it from you. This pair of rings is a holy relic of the Order of Shadows. The ‘left hand’ foresees ill omens, the ‘right hand’ slips into shadow.”

“When I first arrived in Rosha, I considered requesting an audience with the city lord. But my ‘left hand’ sounded the alarm like mad that doing so would cost me my life,” Kalen continued with complete candor. “As you have seen, that city lord isn’t exactly wise.”

So it was a prophecy ability. Salaar focused on the rings.

No wonder the bird-beak demon could appear at the right time every time. Apparently, this man was using the foreboding as a compass.

However you looked at it, the proper way to use the thing should be to stay as far from misfortune as possible. Kalen insisted on squeezing his way toward danger. One had to wonder what the God of Shadows thought of that.

By the same logic, the reason he could escape right under the noses of Myss and Salaar must have been the rings’ power to hide.

…“Divine power”?

If “divine power” was this special, were Myss and Salaar summoned into the human world by the will of some “god” as well?

“Since you can only foresee ill omens, how did you know there was a problem with the food and water?”

With an enemy outside, Salaar quickly reined in his thoughts.

“Ah, only the food and water?”

Kalen was genuinely taken aback. He scratched the back of his head. “I dealt with the common routes of infection, the food, the drinking water, and the patients themselves. The crows were in charge of handling the food and water. I was responsible for scaring away the people around the sick.”

“But sporadic cases kept appearing, so I thought I must have missed something.”

“Oh, that was Mina deliberately infecting people. You cut off transmission among ordinary folk. Otherwise Rosha would have been finished already,” Myss put in matter-of-factly.

He had thought Kalen could see the pale red magic too. It turned out it was a false alarm.

“That’s very good to hear. Thank you for telling me,” Father Kalen said to Myss with heartfelt sincerity.

“I’m only telling the truth.”

Kalen looked even more embarrassed. “Haha, honesty is a fine virtue, and yet I reported you to the authorities—”

No wonder the bird-beak demon never spoke. This man’s voice was too soft, and his plain, earnest manner was almost irritating. It didn’t match that grim image at all.

Seeing the conversation threaten to drag on, Myss turned away in annoyance and hid behind Salaar. He shoved at Salaar’s back, signaling the big hero to deal with this nuisance.

Salaar cleared his throat at the right time. “Father Kalen, so two months ago you foresaw misfortune coming to Rosha and came specifically to solve it? …Two full months of persistence. Your character is admirable.”

Kalen gave a shy smile. “You’re exaggerating. I have my own motives too.”

As he spoke, something seemed to occur to him, and his expression turned serious. “Now that the misunderstanding is resolved, we need to deal with that thing outside at once.”

As if to answer him, the church trembled again. A trickle of grit fell from the dome. The pale red threads on the floor slowly writhed and slid past their feet.

That aroma grew stronger, and Myss could not help licking his lips. He had no objections at all. Who could refuse a fragrant midnight snack?

Salaar didn’t reply at once.

He walked to the unconscious Huey. “Myss, check on Huey first.”

“Almost dead.”

Myss only glanced once and rendered a verdict on the spot—Huey’s Magibase was a fairly large, red-bellied tit. At the moment it was wrapped tightly in the red threads, with only the tip of its beak showing.

In fact, the real miracle was that Huey was still alive at all.

At the word “dead”, the emotionless Hailey lowered her head and slowly cradled the unconscious Huey. Her face was still expressionless, and a faint, almost indiscernible confusion flickered in her eyes.

Huey’s chest heaved violently twice, and he forced his eyes open with difficulty. “Hailey…?”

“I’m here, Uncle Huey,” Hailey said.

Huey trembled, setting the pale red threads all over the floor quivering. His lips parted, and he managed to squeeze out a muffled “sorry.”

“No, it’s all my fault.”

Hailey answered at once. Her tone was very calm, so calm it hurt to hear. “If I had not recommended you to Father Kalen, you wouldn’t have been trapped here.”

“If I hadn’t barged into Scintilla’s room, I wouldn’t be here either.”

Huey straightened his back weakly, clearly sensing that something was off about Hailey. He didn’t press the point, only lowered his eyes.

“Helping others isn’t wrong…” He spoke with all his strength, enunciating each word. “I also… chose to walk into Scintilla’s room of my own accord…”

“If you are still bothered… about her…”

“I have already grown up,” Hailey interrupted in a soft voice, as if reciting words from a diary. “Back then I didn’t know any better. I stopped minding long ago.”

“I have always been very grateful to you, Uncle.”

Huey’s lips curled. He let out a long breath, and his shoulders drooped a little.

In the bright candlelight of the church, he gazed at Hailey’s face with reluctance to part, and his eyelids sank bit by bit.

Just as those eyes were about to close, a hand pressed down on the crown of his head.

“It seems your reason is still intact, so I’ll be brief.”

Salaar spoke clearly. “Do you want to die now as a normal man, or gamble on a chance to live, even if failure would turn you into a monster without blood or tears?”

Huey’s lips moved, as if he were about to call for his mother, then he forced it back. His gaze swept over Hailey again. This time, it was as if he were searching for someone’s shadow on her face.

“How can I die, Sister?” he murmured dreamily. “The Summoning Ritual is about to begin… Hailey likes to watch…”

“I’ll take that as permission.”

Salaar’s left hand moved lightly atop Huey’s head, then withdrew quickly.

Huey fell asleep at once, and all the pale red threads around him wilted. In Myss’s sight, the threads slowly slid away and released the battered Magibase.

Kalen raised his eyebrows in mild surprise, but he kept silent, neither asking questions nor urging them along.

“Thank you.” Hailey bowed her head to Salaar.

“Don’t thank me too soon,” Salaar said. “I was already finding it strange. You two have been paying too much attention to Scintilla. How much do you actually know about her?”

Hailey lowered her head and took a moment to organize her words.

“My mother died in childbirth when I was born. At the time Uncle Huey was only sixteen. Madam Philomina taught him many things and helped him take care of me for a while.”

How to wrap a diaper, what temperature goat’s milk should be, how to handle a crying infant. Knowledge like that wouldn’t just spring up from a sixteen-year-old boy’s head.

After that came the story they all knew.

Philomina died before the Summoning Ritual. Scintilla summoned a caterpillar at the ritual. From then on, the Scintilla household went from bustling with visitors to nearly deserted.

Seeing Scintilla’s situation grow worse and worse, Huey asked young Hailey a question.

“Shall we bring Scintilla to live with us?” Huey asked. “Just think of it as gaining an older sister.”

Hailey burst into tears on the spot and refused, nearly rolling on the floor. Scintilla had lived ten thousand times better than they did before and had barely had anything to do with them. Why should she come take her uncle now that she had fallen on hard times?

Seeing little Hailey making such a fuss, Huey didn’t bring it up again. He only went to look in on Scintilla from time to time and brought the child food and drink. Every time Hailey found out, she would sulk for a while. She always felt like someone had stolen a small piece of her uncle.

“…Uncle Huey did nothing wrong. I was too willful back then,” Hailey said indifferently. “If not for Madam Philomina, I might not have survived in the first place.”

“After Scintilla started appearing less often, my uncle would occasionally write to her, but she never replied. He would visit in person, but she wouldn’t open the door, yet she still accepted the food.”

“Every so often I would go and check on her situation. We only met eyes a few times through the window, and I couldn’t understand what she was thinking at all.”

“Hey, why are you getting hung up on this?”

Myss had been about to charge outside in one go, but all these family matters tripped him up. He grabbed Salaar’s collar in annoyance and tugged him toward the doors.

“Every spell has a solution, and every monster has a weak point,” Salaar whispered. “That monster is clearly connected to Scintilla. Understanding Scintilla’s experiences will help us grasp the situation.”

Wait, was this kid’s occupational illness acting up? Was he going to stay here for hundreds of years to research this monster?

Seeing Salaar wholly focused on analyzing the monster, Myss felt unaccountably peeved and yanked the collar harder. “You studied me for so long and still learned nothing. Listen, what we need right now is action.”

As for weak points, hit something head to toe and you’ll find them. He needed to divert Salaar’s attention fast.

Myss closed his eyes, held his breath, and immersed himself in the slow flow of magic around them.

The monster’s sweetness, Salaar’s fresh scent, and beneath it all a summoning circle for Magibases that hadn’t yet been activated…

This time he couldn’t stop at a sniff. He had to think it through. Every spell has a solution…

…Got it!

He caught onto something. The hazy scent became much clearer.

“That summoning array.” Myss’s mind was spinning, but he finally managed to grasp the magic’s essence. “There’s a leak here.”

Salaar and Kalen: “…?”

Myss forced himself to be patient and gestured. “The entire ritual site is like a door into the human world.”

“Right now it’s only open a crack, so it can still keep the monster outside. Once it starts running for real, that monster will charge into reality at once.”

Salaar started, hesitated for less than half a second, then said, “I understand. We must handle it before the summoning begins. Otherwise, it will crash straight down on everyone present.”

He turned to Kalen at once. “We have a little under twenty-four hours left. Tell me everything you can do. We need to work together.”

Kalen showed the rings on his hands. “I can hide myself at any time. But foreseeing ill omens requires preparation and cannot be used for immediate combat.”

“My regeneration is strong. As long as the wound isn’t instantly fatal, I can recover. Incidentally, I can communicate emotionally with animals, although there don’t seem to be any living creatures nearby.”

Salaar: “Your specialty in magic?”

“I don’t know any magic,” Kalen said frankly.

Salaar and Myss: “……”

To Lord Karns in hell, there are actually two people with this outrageous handicap.

“In other words, you are a pure hand-to-hand fighter.” Salaar pressed a hand hard to his temples. “A hand-to-hand… priest.”

“Exactly. Feel free to let me lead the charge,” Kalen said with a broad grin.

Boom!

The church trembled again and swayed dangerously. At the doors, a patchwork hand scratched back and forth. Not long ago, Myss had sliced it clean off. Now it had fully restored itself.

Salaar tightened his grip on his dagger. “It seems our lady monster can’t wait to be born. Hailey, take care of your uncle.”

“Yes, sir.”

……

The three of them climbed over the protruding reliefs, leapt through the skylight, and returned to the church spire.

Outside was still pitch dark, and the hot, humid air pressed down at once. Myss looked down at the monster jammed at the doorway—its magical fluctuations were growing more intense, and its movements were highly frantic.

“When that thing’s stuffing shows, pull out as much as you can. I’ll burn it,” Salaar said to Kalen. “In short, limit its ability to move first.”

Kalen hesitated. “What about Miss Scintilla?”

“She’s already dead. She’s either inside the monster, or she is the monster. Both are possible.”

Salaar’s expression hardly changed. “But we can’t afford to hold back. Rosha’s safety matters more.”

Kalen’s brow twitched. He changed the question. “How do we make the monster’s stuffing come out—”

Halfway through, he abruptly closed his mouth.

Myss was cavorting all over the monster’s surface.

He was brandishing a deformed silver dinner fork, the tines leaving black trails as they swept. Large swaths of patches on the monster were pried up, and the brown-yellow “hair clumps” stuffed inside bulged out in heaving waves.

Pale red threads and memory fragments flew together. The split gaps healed rapidly but Myss didn’t care. Relying on his terrifying speed, he bounded all over the monster, scratching open one fresh wound after another.

Kalen pushed off hard from the ground. With the crack of breaking tiles, he shot out like a cannonball.

Mid-flight his figure melted into the dark, and one nearby wound was abruptly yanked wide, spilling out a mass of hair clumps that left the monster’s body visibly deflated.

Salaar stood on the highest point of the spire, raised the ritual dagger like a wand, and aimed at the single eye on the monster—

The next instant, countless bullet-like lances of fire poured onto those hair clumps. Dazzling gold flames turned them to drifting ash in a heartbeat, and the monster let out a scream fierce enough to rupture eardrums.

Perfect teamwork. He felt pretty good. Myss drew back his gaze and stretched in midair.

He looked down at the brightly lit church and thought of his petal-scattering practice—countless black fragments rode the wind, blossoming into numerous holes across the monster’s body in an instant.

The Minas emerged from the holes, faces twisted as they reached toward him. Countless pale red threads shot for Myss. Before they could reach his toes, they slammed into Salaar’s protective magic.

Salaar’s golden magic bloomed around him from time to time. The lights were sometimes flames, sometimes shields, sometimes little platforms of light for him to step on.

They always appeared at the perfect spot beside him, as if they were Salaar’s own line of sight.

The attacks kept coming. The monster’s body gradually shriveled, and its movements slowed further and further. Looks like we don’t need to worry about finding a weak point, Myss thought. They were about to win… huh?

The monster’s “head”—the infant—suddenly stirred.

In an instant the sound of flesh squeezing rose on all sides, and memory fragments surged in from every direction of the city. They frantically covered the monster’s damaged parts, and its insides swelled fast, a full size larger than before.

It lunged toward Myss, and the wet umbilical cords curled for him. Myss sprang back with the motion. The tip of his foot habitually tapped the air, reaching for one of Salaar’s light platforms.

He stepped into nothing.

In that weightless moment, Myss’s heart skipped along with it, and a storm of unruly thoughts exploded in his head.

…No, had he gone mad, believing Salaar like that?

…Had that guy connected the clues on his own and already discovered the truth of the body-swapping ritual?

…Were those perfect assists only to make him drop his guard, so he could be eliminated by the monster?

His thoughts were cut short by the excruciating pain.

The deadly cords pressed in from all sides, and a searing heat ran through Myss’s limbs. The mucus on the cords melted his skin. His flesh felt as if it had been splashed with strong acid. Pain pierced him from every direction.

It hurt. This human body seeped cold sweat and tears at the same time.

The human body was too fragile and too sensitive. Myss had never felt such pain. The survival instinct, coupled with fury, swept through his mind in a flash and tore at his nerves along with the agony.

He would eat it.

Myss almost lost consciousness. Only this thought echoed in his mind. In the corner of his eye something he saw bursts of golden light, but none of that mattered.

He would eat it. He would eat it.

Myss heard a hair-raising shriek, and then realized the cry came from his own throat. His vocal cords were vibrating, his skull was trembling, and all things in the world reeked of blood.

He would eat it, he would eat it, he would eat it.

Myss’s pupils were no longer the perfect circles of a human. They eroded outward into his irises, turning into an irregular, terrifying black mist. Myss sniffed madly at the monster before him, tracking those hazy, tangled traces of magic.

Right. He had just practiced this… all to shove that damned Salaar out the door. Every spell has a solution…

The instant he fully grasped that, his instincts almost immediately understood what to do.

Every spell has a solution.

Like a carnivore tasting hot, fresh blood after giving up milk for the first time. Like a cub popping out its claws and discovering how easily they slice through flesh.

All things in the world come to an end.

Soft flesh burst beside him in blooming fireworks. The scattered, complex magic before his eyes kept simplifying. The dizzying magical circuits collapsed into a single point. The monster’s flavor turned clean and sharp. Right there… Right there.

…The end was right there.

Yes, this was His power, His instinct. He could destroy everything and plunder everything to His heart’s content. Why had He only noticed now?

He seemed to be laughing, yet He wasn’t quite sure. He couldn’t remember where His mouth was, or even whether He had something like a “mouth” at all.

He only knew that He would be able to eat it very soon.

Not far away, on the church spire.

Moments earlier, the tip of the tower had been assaulted by a swarm of Minas, and Salaar’s vision was briefly blocked. He couldn’t assist Myss in time.

For some reason, Myss’s reactions were clearly half a beat slower. The monster grabbed him in a sudden embrace, and his body vanished into the wet umbilical cord.

—Damn it!

Salaar tried to snipe with flame, but his magic didn’t leave a single mark on the umbilical cord.

In his urgency he shouted for Kalen and prepared to rush in himself. Then he saw it… that foreign thing, that being more like a monster than the monster itself.

“Forgive me, may I ask a question?” Kalen hopped back onto the spire and wiped the black blood from his eyes.

“What exactly is your ‘companion’?”

“I would like to know as well, Father,”

Salaar stared intently at “that thing”, unwilling to look away for even a second, though black blood was seeping from his seven orifices and a keen, freezing ache gripped his brain.

“…I would like to know as well,” the hero muttered.

---

The author has something to say:

The Demon Lord is slowly developing his own instincts.

Happy researcher Mr. Salaar:

Very soon it will be your turn for a little exposure, Mr. Salaar.

---

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

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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

---

Chapter 22: Divine Kingdom

Of course, Salaar wasn’t about to let him go so easily.

The golden shield forced open a slit, and the great hero yanked Myss out by sheer force. Salaar pulled too hard; Myss crashed straight into him, and the two of them toppled together toward the base of the city wall.

Salaar twisted in midair so that his back faced downward. The instant they hit the ground, he wrapped Myss up and rolled across the mud, stemming off most of the impact.

The price was that both of them were caked in mud. With Myss’s long hair, he suffered the most.

Salaar: “Mom, are you okay?”

Myss shuddered, a chill running down his spine. “You wacko, shut up!”

“Oh, that’s what you are hung up on,” Salaar said breezily. “Relax, my three hundred years of memory are fine. But Mina’s emotional attack was too strong, so I need a living anchor. With a real ‘mother’ within arm’s reach, it’s much easier to steady my mind.”

“So I planted a bit of suggestion in myself. You know I’m very good at that sort of magic.”

He was, in fact. Myss subconsciously looked at Hailey.

Hailey was staring at them with hollow eyes, devoid of any emotion.

“Can’t you choose Hailey?”

Myss was truly baffled. Species issues aside, at least her gender matched.

Salaar stared at him in astonishment. “What nonsense are you talking about? Hailey is still a child.”

“What nonsense are you talking about? I’m your enemy!”

Salaar: “Exactly, which is why I picked you—if I chose Hailey as the ‘mother’ anchor, I would feel completely sick. Picking you also feels awful, but at least you would have to be disgusted along with me. That is a win, right?”

A breath caught in Myss’s chest. He wanted nothing more than to bite off this man’s nose.

For a second, he even felt a twinge of nostalgia for his time inside the seal. At least back then Salaar never pulled such ridiculous mind games. Would this guy really defile the memories of his own mother just to make Myss sick?

Myss glared at Salaar with venom, hoping to find guilt, resistance, or turmoil on his face. All he found was calmness, like a pool of stagnant water.

… Forget it. Salaar had gone toe to toe with him alone for more than three hundred years. The man wasn’t normal. What else could he expect?

“Don’t call me ‘Mom’. I have a name. And absolutely don’t act like a spoiled child towards me.”

Finally, the Demon Lord rasped a warning. “…Otherwise, I’ll show you the cruelest mother–son breakup in human history.”

Salaar snorted a laugh. “Got it, My~ss~”

Myss flicked his mud-smeared braid back, blew out a hard breath, and shot everyone a look of deep dissatisfaction.

His gaze quickly locked onto Hailey. “If we all got hit, why’s she perfectly fine?”

“I saw Mina’s figure as my mother, but that means nothing. My mother has been gone a long time,” Hailey replied coolly, as if the topic had nothing to do with her.

Her Magibase tit didn’t move. A few pale red strands of magic wriggled near it, trying to wrap around it, but it was like climbing a porcelain statue greased with oil; they could only slide back down in vain—the strange disease’s infection had suddenly failed.

Huh?

Myss couldn’t help taking a longer look. He hadn’t been mistaken. The pale red threads had no effect on the tit.

“Are you sure you only took her emotions and did nothing else?” he asked, suspecting Salaar had meddled.

Salaar tilted his head in confusion.

Myss had no choice. He wasted a few more words and roughly explained Hailey’s situation.

“Her infection stopped? …That figures. The sickness is closer to a spiritual plague.”

Salaar didn’t look very surprised, as if he had already guessed.

“‘Mina’ went to great lengths to become the perfect mother because her infection depends on emotion.”

“Covington and Barlow both cried for ‘Mom’ as they were dying. I think in that moment they subconsciously accepted Mina, and their Magibases dropped all defenses.”

… And then Mina sliced off their Magibases and ate them, Myss thought.

By now, the mechanism of the mysterious plague was crystal clear.

Mina’s magic distorts memories and stokes dependence. The instant the infected open their hearts, Mina would devour their Magibases.

Great. It looked like Mina couldn’t do anything to the three of them for the time being.

Hailey had lost the emotions that could be shaken, so her condition could no longer worsen.

Myss had no concept of family to begin with; zero multiplied by ten thousand was still zero.

Salaar was even more ruthless. He pre-twisted his own subconscious and forcibly designated his mortal enemy as “mother”, ensuring he wouldn’t feel any soft spot when facing Mina.

Thinking of what Salaar had done gave Myss goosebumps. He shook his head hard and decided to change the subject. “Knowing the infection mechanism doesn’t help. We’re trapped here.”

Salaar: “Wow, that really is breaking news.”

Myss grounded his molars. Had Salaar really anchored him as “Mom”? The brat’s attitude hadn’t changed at all. He was still as nasty as if he had been chewed up by a dog.

While Demon Lord was griping internally, Salaar had already turned to Hailey. “Based on what you know, where might Huey have gone?”

“If that priest doesn’t interfere, Uncle Huey would go to the Hammer Tavern. Even if the interior has completely changed, he would go there first to look for me.”

Hailey’s tone was calm and unruffled, nothing like a child.

“If he can’t find me, he’ll do everything he can to escape. Uncle Huey said he must see me grow up safe and sound.”

“All right, we will check the Hammer Tavern first,” Salaar said.

Myss thought for a few seconds and couldn’t come up with a better plan. Besides, the darkness around them was so thick he couldn’t see his hand. He didn’t remember the roads at all, so he could only keep following Salaar.

In the thick darkness, the three of them moved forward slowly.

They drew farther from the city wall covered in flesh-membranes, yet that strange sickly-sweet smell grew stronger.

Myss sniffed. After a while his nose went numb. The scent had a half-raw, half-cooked quality. He wasn’t sure it even counted as a pleasant food smell.

Beyond the scent, the buildings around them looked more and more out of place.

They had started in the slums, where the houses were a mess to begin with, so nothing seemed wrong. But as the buildings became more orderly, the oddities stood out.

In those unremarkable corners of walls and gaps beneath the eaves, layers of foreign matter had grown. Their texture was like cobwebs caked with dust, or like the skin that forms on spoiled meat broth. Their colors were vivid, and the “patterns” on their surfaces flowed slowly.

No, those weren’t patterns.

Myss narrowed his eyes. It seemed to be countless fragments of images stitched together.

Women’s smiling faces stuck to sunlight, fresh milk and bread steamed with heat. Hundreds of mothers hummed as they held their children, each lullaby different…

Strangely, simply looking at them wrapped him in soothing smiles and sweet aromas. He felt as if he sank into warm embraces one after another. Gentle humming echoed softly in his ears.

Myss recognized the sensation. When he was first stuffed into this human body, he had experienced similar sensory shocks. There was no doubt these were memories—memories that belonged to different humans.

They curled up in the corners of this bizarre space, lit by windowlight, everything like a fantastical dream.

Salaar clearly recognized them too.

“All right. Now we know where Mina’s concept of ‘mother’ came from. She just fused the populace’s memories of their mothers. She doesn’t have much creative ability herself,” he said briskly.

“So what?”

Myss poked those memories. They felt soft and springy, very strange.

Salaar: “So she may not be very intelligent, like Fabian’s exorcism-and-consecration array—she’s simply mechanically repeating the same routine.”

Fine, Mina wasn’t bright. That still didn’t explain what was going on with this strange world.

Myss wordlessly withdrew his hand and stopped prodding the memories.

The weird phenomena in the dark didn’t leave them alone.

Doors and windows they passed would occasionally act up, screeching with ear-splitting creaks or being gently tapped by unseen hands.

Sometimes they would just round a corner, and when they looked back the sign on the corner had turned, pointing toward some alley. A few seconds earlier, that alley didn’t exist at all.

Occasionally, at the edge of the light, Myss saw Mina’s feet. He recognized that burlap skirt and those dust-stained shoes.

“Mina” would stand ahead of him, not far yet not near, her upper body swallowed by darkness. When Myss stared straight at her, she vanished again.

If Hailey’s emotions were normal, who knew how badly she would be frightened. Just thinking about it sounded like a headache. Myss glanced at the quiet, well-behaved girl and, for once, agreed with Salaar’s decision.

Salaar himself was on high alert. Even if the noises couldn’t hurt them, he still moved with patience, stopping to investigate from time to time.

“They’re just memory scraps. No danger for now,” the great hero reported.

During the dull march, Myss gradually grew sleepy.

The roads in the Lower City were hard to walk. Wet mud caked his shoes, cold and heavy. He hadn’t eaten dinner, and his stomach was rumbling. He didn’t even have a warm cup of mead to sip.

Amidst his drowsiness, Myss found the ghostly noises more and more unbearable.

When he passed a wooden door, it let out an especially loud creak. Salaar was just about to stop when a streak of black light sliced past the tip of his nose.

The door disintegrated on the spot, as if it had never existed.

No door meant no door noise. Perfect. Myss grunted, convinced he was a genius.

Salaar shot him a helpless look. “Someone’s cranky. Hungry?”

“Grrr-rrr.” Myss’s stomach answered for him.

“No,” Myss himself firmly denied. “You’re not hungry, so how could I be?”

Salaar raised an eyebrow. “But there was a very, very big growl just now.”

“They’re just memory fragments. No danger for now,” Myss said with a straight face, imitating his tone.

Salaar only smiled. He dug in his little travel pouch and fished out two candies. He tossed one to Myss. Myss sniffed it and caught the raspberry scent he liked.

Salaar pushed the other piece into Hailey’s hand, and she obediently took it and ate it.

“I have salted butter and jerky too, but we need to ration them. Let us use this to tide us over,” Salaar said.

Myss looked at the candy, then at Salaar. Fine, this didn’t count as conceding. This was him claiming spoils from his mortal enemy.

He popped the candy into his mouth and crunched it with his teeth.

The human body really was a marvel. As the sweetness spread across his tongue, the edgy restlessness in him eased a lot.

He stopped wrecking those poor doors, focused all his attention on the candy, and even forgot the sleepiness fogging his head.

Its taste was even better than Myss had imagined, and he had no idea where Salaar had gotten it. Myss eased up with his teeth, and his tongue cautiously licked at it, eating especially slowly.

Just as the candy sphere was almost gone, they finally found the Hammer Tavern.

The tavern was still crooked as ever. The once enormous windows had all turned into the tiny panes they saw in SScintilla’s house. Behind the conspicuous tavern entrance was still that shabby little room, and the size contrast was quite comical. They couldn’t even find the way up to the second floor.

All around was silence. The priest and Huey weren’t there.

Hailey stood without a word. Who knew what she was thinking, or perhaps she was thinking nothing at all.

“You’ve failed. Next, it’s my turn to choose the route… route?”

Myss was halfway through declaring this to Salaar when the ambient noise suddenly changed pitch.

He saw a gutter rat totter past the tavern, a few pale red threads coiled around it. The rat was half transparent overall, its outline drifting in and out of focus, as if it walked along the edge of a dream.

… No, how had a Magibase left its person?

Myss abandoned Salaar on the spot and ran toward that Magibase rat, only to discover with some displeasure that the Magibase was still connected to a human. At the very least he could feel the fluctuations of human magic.

Too bad this wasn’t a wild Magibase delivered to his doorstep. He simply couldn’t see the Magibase’s owner.

“Hey, can you hear me?” Myss stepped on the rat’s tail.

The rat bounced under his foot and turned its head in a daze. “Mm, mm? Mom?”

“Shut up, I’m not your mother.” Myss felt his mood dip the moment he heard that word. “What exactly is your situation?”

“I, hiccup, I just finished drinking. I might have mistaken you,” the rat said drunkenly. “Sorry, I had too much, had too much… I had a dream about my mom…”

“Making a living hasn’t been easy lately. I miss her so much… Mom…”

The rat squeaked its sentiments. The pale red threads on it wrapped tighter and tighter, and its form grew more and more solid, as if someone had bitten it straight off from the ‘real world’ and swallowed it into ‘this side’.

The red threads squirmed without pause. The rat’s tail tip and toes had already been consumed by the pale red magic, yet it felt nothing.

Could this world be Mina’s stomach? Myss studied those brazen pale red threads. He suddenly realized that the magic threads which were extremely hard to distinguish in the real world were much clearer here, not just the ones packed inside the city wall, but also the ones that ate people’s Magibases.

Myss’s gaze immediately swung to Hailey. Sure enough, even without looking too hard, the red threads twined around the tit were still clearly visible. Their shapes were unusually stable, and their tips trailed faintly into the depths of the darkness.

“What? You’re seeing Magibases again?” Salaar asked, sweeping his eyes toward the rat.

“I’m seeing something even more impressive than a Magibase.”

Myss announced triumphantly, “What did I just say? You failed. Now it is my turn to choose the route.”

He puffed out his chest, ready to engage Salaar in a grand debate. Salaar only gave him a long look. “All right, you lead.”

“?”

“I have to be filial once in a while too, My~ss~.”

The great hero deliberately called his name with sincerity and warmth, and it made Myss’s whole body itch. Yet Salaar had agreed to his plan, so he had nowhere to vent his anger.

Fine, for the sake of that candy sphere.

Myss drew a deep breath and focused on Hailey. Under his full concentration, those pale red threads grew even clearer. Myss cautiously reached out and grabbed one of them.

This bizarre space was closely tied to Mina, and the pale red threads were Mina’s means of siphoning magic. The end of a thread must connect to something important —perhaps Mina’s true body, or the core of the space, something like that.

In short, as long as they took care of that thing, they would definitely find a way out.

Myss gripped the slippery strand of magic and led the other two into the darkness.

……

Pale red threads coiled all over the floor. Huey leaned weakly against a bench, already unconscious. If Myss had been on the scene, he would have seen it at a glance. Huey’s Magibase had almost been devoured by the red threads. Only the final absorption step was left.

If Huey woke up one more time and wavered one more time, he would immediately fall ill and die.

Father Kalen sat at the other end of the bench, head tilted up toward the skylight. Night had grown deep, and the sky were dotted with stars.

“Sleep. Don’t worry.”

Kalen lowered his gaze and spoke to the unconscious Huey as if the man could still hear him. “This is the place where it’s least ‘ominous’. Everything will be fine.”

After saying this, he touched his chest lightly with one hand, bowed his head, and prayed a few silent lines.

When Kalen lowered his head, the gap between his collar and the back of his neck widened a little, revealing an ugly old scar. It was rough and hideous, as if someone had cut a full circle around his neck.

Opposite the bench was the site of the Magibase summoning ritual.

Yes, the two of them were sitting in the Lower City’s church.

The time was past midnight. Strictly speaking, the Summoning Ritual would begin tomorrow. The site was already fully prepared. The broken steps were carpeted in red, and torn statues were draped with satin. A massive magic array was drawn in the center of the hall, a structure a hundred times more complex than the most ornate jewelry.

Warm candlelight flickered without cease, lighting the entire hall as bright as day. The nave was empty…was it truly empty?

At the edge of his vision, there was always a figure that seemed there yet not. When Kalen turned his head, the shadow had vanished. From time to time a swath of skirt flashed in the corner shadows, and a seat retained a faint hint of warmth, as if someone had just risen from it.

Now and then a whisper came from near a statue, and in the quiet he would catch a breath. The church was clearly empty, yet Kalen kept having the illusion of companionship. The hair on the back of his neck stood slightly as someone’s gaze was stealthily scanning his surroundings.

In the growing sickly sweetness, he tightened his grip on the lantern and took a long, deep breath.

By the God of Shadows, he had been too rash after all. When did things start to go wrong?

Not long ago, he had the crows tail those two suspicious people. They obviously intended to interfere with the Summoning Ritual and had deliberately asked about Scintilla. So Kalen rushed to Scintilla’s place first to clear away potential dangers, just as he always did.

Finding that the house had been abandoned for a long time and nothing was amiss, Kalen relaxed. So when Huey entered the room under the pretext of concern, he didn’t stop him in time.

…Then they were trapped here, in this bizarre world without light.

After a brief panic, Huey insisted on checking the Hammer Tavern. Naturally Kalen went with him, but they found nothing. The strange thing was that Huey became less tense instead.

“Father, I have no other requests. From here on I will fully cooperate with you. We will definitely get out of here, right?”

He forced down the fear in his voice and mustered a smile. “The Summoning Ritual is about to begin. I have to take the child to see it…” 

“I’ll do everything I can to get you out of here,” Kalen said firmly.

Before long, guided by the God of Shadows, he succeeded in finding the place closest to the outside world—this church where the summoning ritual was to be held.

When he stood at the church door, Kalen almost thought they had found the exit. The place hadn’t been swallowed by “Scintilla’s home”. Inside the church the lights were bright and the candles flickered, indistinguishable from the real world.

Through the little skylight beside the spire, he could even see a sky full of stars and the bright moon.

The night was dark like murky water. Facing the open church doors, he unconsciously let out another sigh of relief. That was the second time he lowered his guard.

In that instant, Huey suddenly slammed into his back. Kalen stumbled a half step forward and quickly regained his balance. He hadn’t even shifted his gaze yet when he saw Huey fall at his feet.

A deep wound had opened on Huey’s shoulder. The flesh was rolled back and bleeding nonstop. Countless strange red threads bored into the wound and seeped into his body.

It was the first time Kalen noticed these pale red threads, and he followed them outward with his eyes. Then he saw… that thing.

The moment he saw it, Kalen immediately understood what had happened.

To protect Huey, Kalen had been walking in front. The thing had patiently waited for them to draw near the church and for their attention to be caught by the scene before them. Then it launched a stealthy attack from behind.

When the strike came, Huey had shoved him aside with all his strength and hadn’t managed to dodge in time himself.

Kalen clenched his jaw, hefted Huey onto his shoulders, and ran toward the radiance inside the church. As expected, the thing didn’t follow them in. It seemed unable to enter the church interior.

Kalen set Huey down on a bench and bandaged him with practiced hands. The bleeding stopped quickly, yet Huey remained dazed. The red threads seemed to have blended into his flesh, and Kalen couldn’t get them out no matter what he did.

Huey let out a muddled groan that sounded like “Mom.”

His eyelids drooped as his unfocused gaze drifted into empty air, and he smiled. The next moment Huey frowned and muttered “Sister.”

“You shouldn’t have done that. I’m the one who dragged you into this. I ought to protect you.” Kalen wiped the cold sweat from Huey’s forehead.

“No, no, Father,” Huey mumbled. “I’m not that noble. I don’t understand those things. If I lose you, I definitely can’t get out…”

Suddenly his voice rose, his emotions surging with a strange manic edge. “I must get out of here. Someone is waiting for me… Mom…”

Kalen unhooked the water bag at his waist and gave Huey a little herb-soaked water.

“Shh, shh,” he whispered. “Don’t talk anymore, Mr. Huey.”

Huey was clearly not right.

He was young and strong. A shoulder wound like that, with bleeding that wasn’t severe, shouldn’t have left him so quickly delirious. His current state looked more like a sudden flare of the strange illness.

Kalen chopped the side of his hand down and knocked Huey out cleanly. In his experience, all patients fell ill while awake. Sleep helped slow the progress.

Sure enough, once Huey slipped into unconsciousness, the red threads in his wound quieted somewhat.

But the source of those pale red threads, that terrible giant thing, was still guarding the door, a constant reminder.

What a pity, Kalen. This place felt like reality, yet it wasn’t true reality. Outside the door was still that pitch-black, warped world.

Watching the thing crawling at the threshold, Kalen wiped the blood from his hands and pressed his lips together.

The longer he stared at it, the more a fine ringing built in his ears. In under two minutes, a warm trickle ran beneath his nose. Kalen swiped it away without thinking. It was blood.

Kalen considered himself well-seasoned in strange affairs, but he had never seen a creature or a space so abominable. As the ringing sharpened, a long-buried word surfaced in his mind.

“Divine Kingdom…”

His older brother had once whispered it to him as a bedtime story.

“A God can construct a special space and use it as a nesting place. Inside a Divine Kingdom there will be many things that defy common sense. It’s more like a dream than a dream.”

“But I have never heard of a ‘Divine Kingdom’,” young Kalen had said. “Everyone says there are many gods in the city, but no one has ever mentioned that term, and it’s not in the books.”

His brother tucked the covers around him and smiled. “Not every god needs a Divine Kingdom.”

“Some gods are lies made up by people, so naturally there is no such thing as a Divine Kingdom. And some…”

“And some of them?”

“And some gods are so powerful that the entire world is their playground,” his brother whispered. “Only ‘juveniles’ and ‘the weak’ need a Divine Kingdom.”

“I see.” Young Kalen worked hard to remember it all. “Brother, how do you know everything? Have you seen a god?”

Kalen couldn’t remember how his brother answered back then.

He remembered only his brother’s smile, and the two terrifying scars on his brother’s face.

If this bizarre space really was the “Divine Kingdom” his brother spoke of, he feared he wouldn’t be able to leave easily.

Boom.

The whole church shuddered. Something blocked the sealed skylight. The red threads on the floor writhed like mad, and the sleeping Huey let out two groans of pain.

Kalen raised his eyes. The giant thing at the door had vanished. At some point it had climbed to the top of the church and was peering in through that tiny skylight.

The front doors stood empty, like an invitation, or like a provocation.

If they kept waiting like this, Huey would only be dragged to death here. Since the suspected culprit was right before his eyes—

Kalen stood up, took off his coat, and laid it over Huey, who was drenched in cold sweat. Then he slowly put on his gloves, the bone-white pair of rings completely hidden beneath the black fabric.

“We’ll meet again shortly.” Kalen bowed his head to Huey. “May His Veil shroud you, unseen and unharmed.”

Before he moved, he had carefully confirmed that the “ominous” for this action wouldn’t be fatal. Since that thing had offered a sincere invitation, he would give it a proper response.

…After all, the God of Shadows had never deceived him.

……

Outside the church, not far away.

Myss stared in shock at the church that looked both familiar and strange.

From the outside it was the same as ever: a damaged spire reinforced, outer walls decorated with laurel branches and little silver bells. Even the red carpet on the stone steps was there, shining the color of dead meat in the night.

The good news: Myss had found the end of the pale red threads, the source of Mina’s magic, the place where the disappearing Magibases went. He was staring straight at it.

The bad news: It was staring straight at him too.

The thing was enormous, clinging to the church like a dragon wrapped around a tower from a fairy tale. Yet it looked nothing like a dragon.

At first glance, it resembled a lanky rag doll covered in patches.

It had a vaguely womanly shape, but the proportions were utterly wrong, with limbs long and thin like some kind of insect.

Its surface was stitched with a riot of overlapping patches. On closer look, the patches were fragments of memories, and the “red stitching” along their edges was made of the pale red threads Myss knew all too well.

Thousands of threads poked out their ends and extended everywhere, wriggling like living things. At that very moment, Myss was holding one of them between his fingers.

By now, what Myss cared about wasn’t the threads, but the thing’s head… if that could be called a “head”.

The deformed monster had no neck. Where the neck should have been, a meat-red umbilical cord jutted out. The cord connected to a fetus wrapped in fetal membrane. Curled up and plump, it floated above the rag doll’s shoulder, just about the size of a human head.

The cord looped into a perfect circle above the fetus, like some kind of halo.

In that second, it stretched out its neck—no, that umbilical cord—tilting its body toward Myss. Even without showing so much as half an eye, it still made Myss feel a fierce stare.

What are you looking at? Myss shot back with a hard glare.

The sickly sweetness made his head swim. The thing was clearly the source of the smell. Up close, the blood-reek grew faint, while the sweetness became overpowering.

—Myss was hungry, hungrier than he had ever been.

The monster’s scent wasn’t like the fragrance of a Magibase, and Myss couldn’t find any food to compare it to.

It wasn’t the scent of flowers or fruit or anything that actually existed. It was more beautiful, more enticing, more dreamlike… Even that annoying metallic tang became harmless. Of course, without it would be even better…

If he took a bite of this thing, Salaar probably wouldn’t give him trouble for it. No, why should he care what Salaar thought? He had to find the source of that smell and eat it, every last bit.

“…s.” Someone was calling him.

“…Myss…” The voice drew closer, breath brushing his ear. “My~ss~”

“Are you out of your mind?”

Myss snapped back to himself. Then he noticed his voice was a bit thick, as if his mouth were full of saliva.

Wait, not as if. It really was. A little drool had even leaked from the corner of his mouth.

“Right back at you,” Salaar said. “Normal people don’t drool at that thing.”

Myss scrubbed the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. “I’m not normal.”

Salaar: “… Fair point.”

He gazed at the monster on the church, the smile in his voice thinned. “So then, Lord Myss, who’s not an ordinary person. Do you recognize that thing?”

The ritual dagger was already gripped in his right hand, dazzling golden light dancing along the blade.

Myss thought it over seriously. “It seems like it would taste very good.”

Salaar: “I am only a human without pica. Please describe it another way.”

“Ordinary humans are like chicory. They have a very bland smell. I have no desire to eat them.”

“Segmented Magibases are like fresh pastries, very fragrant. I want a taste—not from hunger, just a nibble for the craving.”

At that, Myss gazed at the monster with longing. It didn’t look so strange to him now. Crabs looked very strange too, and humans still ate them with delight.

“This thing… I can’t describe its smell. If I have to, it’s something like the aroma of a feast when you are on the verge of starving to death.”

“…” Salaar said.

He let out a short laugh. “It seems the purer the magic, the greater the temptation for you.”

Is that not normal? Myss sneered. Humans also like energy-rich sweets, or meat that sizzles with fat. No one likes unsalted bitter soup.

“In other words, this thing is even more dangerous than I thought.”

Unaware of Myss’s thoughts, Salaar stared at the gigantic monster. Most of its body was sunk in darkness, and the church lights only traced a blurry outline, which made it look even more terrifying.

What a thrill. Salaar could swear that more than three hundred years ago there was absolutely nothing like this in the world.

He wasn’t sure why, but the longer he looked, the itchier his eyeballs felt. He took a deep breath and blinked hard. In his double-imaged vision, he suddenly realized the thing seemed… not in great shape.

It was too thin, its movements unsteady. The red stitching on its body hung loose, split open in many places, and the stuffing bulged out. From the texture alone, it looked exactly like clumps of brown-yellow hair.

Atop the church spire, a small human silhouette was faintly standing.

That silhouette—dressed as a curate—leapt high and charged the monster with bare hands.

The monster raised a limp arm to block. The figure vanished in place, then reappeared in front of the monster’s “head” the next second.

His fist was half a step from the fetus when countless pale red threads sprayed out like blood, fusing into countless “Minas” before him. They hovered in midair and rushed at the figure like ghosts.

Yet the instant they touched him, the Minas recoiled as if shocked, jerking back their clawed hands. Even the pale red threads that had lunged forward snapped back and drifted hesitantly.

Even so, the figure still took a solid physical hit and was knocked flying. He tucked his body and slammed into the church spire with a thump, kicking up clouds of dust.

“It’s the priest,” Salaar said.

“That is the bird-beak demon,” Myss said. “He has a very distinctive scent.”

“Which means Uncle Huey is nearby.” In a rare instance, Hailey spoke up. She had no interest in the twisted monster, only a searching gaze for the church. The stained glass was still normal. It hadn’t turned into Scintilla’s windows.

Salaar: “We need to help that priest.”

Myss: “We need to help the bird-beak demon.”

They both couldn’t help looking at each other, and in each other’s eyes they both saw shock.

“…He might know something,” Salaar stressed.

“That monster would taste better,” Myss said with perfect fairness.

Hailey: “……”

Hailey: “Do not talk at the same time. I can’t make out what you’re saying.”

Salaar let out a chuckle and tossed Myss a look that said “stay here for a second,”. Then he bolted first.

He didn’t attack the monster directly but rushed to the priest who had crashed into the spire. A golden shield flared up right on time and perfectly blocked the monster’s follow-up strike.

The moment the priest recognized who it was, his eyes opened a touch wider, but he wasn’t foolish enough to pause mid-battle to question him. He grabbed Salaar’s outstretched hand without hesitation and forced himself to his feet.

As soon as he had pulled the man up, Salaar pivoted.

Golden light surged along the ritual dagger’s blade and condensed into a brilliant golden longsword. The edge sank into the monster’s patch-covered skin, and Salaar sprinted up along its arm.

From its wrist to its shoulder, Salaar carved a long gash. Before he could pull the sword free, the monster’s wrist had already begun to heal.

The patchwork memory fragments writhed and fitted back into place, a new layer sealing tight. Pale red stitches sewed themselves, and the wound vanished almost instantly.

A muffled shriek rang from inside the monster. Salaar stumbled in place and nearly lost his balance. Right then a dozen Minas floated up around him and lunged in a frenzy.

Salaar raised the golden shield at the perfect time, but perhaps because he wasn’t at full strength, the barrier was as thin as a cicada’s wing and shattered in an instant under the Minas’ blows.

While the Minas swarmed him there, the monster lifted its huge palm and slapped down hard like swatting a mosquito.

—Swoosh!

A streak of black light cleaved across the gold and lopped off that twisted palm.

The monster’s shriek multiplied severalfold. Its severed hand wasn’t corroded by Myss’s magic. The memory patches and pale red threads began repairing themselves again, only much more slowly than before.

Seizing the moment, Myss hoisted Salaar onto his shoulders and nimbly wove past the Minas one by one. His movements were as light as the wind, like a beast slipping through deep forest.

In only a few heartbeats, Myss had carried Salaar up to the top of the church.

“It’s my prey.” Myss bared his teeth at the monster.

In answer, clusters upon clusters of Minas sprouted across its skin. Wearing gentle smiles, they opened their arms and ran toward the group.

Salaar slid off Myss’s shoulder. “Something’s off. Pull back for now.”

Their attacks were doing nothing to the monster. The enemy’s condition was unknown, and their supplies were limited. Forcing the fight would only waste their strength.

At the very least, they needed to exchange information with this enigmatic priest.

Seeing the priest still standing where he was, Salaar added in a rapid rush, “I know you came with Huey. Huey’s niece is down below. She needs a safe place.”

Only then did the priest tear his gaze from the monster. He coughed twice, his voice a little hoarse. “Get inside the church.”

“Huey is there.”

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The author has something to say:

Subscribers before the 25th can join a lottery. One hundred people will split 10,000 JJ coins.

These days every subscription matters a lot to me. Those of you planning to stockpile chapters, could you wait a few days before you keep stockpiling?

————

The first supporting character has finally joined the party.

This time it truly is a formidable foe (for the current two). Time to reveal a few little secrets about the two of them.

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

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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

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Chapter 21: Nurturing Love

Huh? What did you say?

Myss perked up at once.

Hailey was stunned by Salaar’s question. She parted her lips slightly, as if she had forgotten how to speak.

“The anomaly here is very likely connected to the strange illness. We need to go out and investigate.”

“But your mental state is very poor and not suited to action. I have to take that into account. Can you understand?”

Hailey nodded blankly.

“I know a spell that can erase your personality and emotions.”

Salaar’s voice started trailing off. “If you agree to receive it, you’ll no longer feel panic, wavering, or fear. You’ll become a, hmm, purely rational machine of flesh.”

“Listen carefully. Undoing this spell is very troublesome. If we can’t leave this place within forty-eight hours, you’ll never be able to recover.”

For a living person of flesh and blood, this would be tantamount to death.

“That counts as black magic, doesn’t it?” Myss said with keen interest. “I didn’t expect you could do this.”

Salaar didn’t answer directly. “I can’t split my attention at all times to look after her. That would slow the entire investigation.”

“Yet if we leave her here alone, she won’t be able to hold out. Even so, I’ll respect her choice.”

“…Uncle.”

Hailey moved her lips and only on the second try managed to make a sound. “Uncle Huey may be in danger, right?”

“If I go with you, can we find him faster?”

“Yes. You know Huey better than anyone and you are clearer on how he would act,” Salaar said honestly.

Hailey pressed her lips together and gradually stopped crying.

“All right,” she said in a hoarse voice. “I accept your spell.”

Salaar said nothing. He simply stretched out his left hand and gently patted Hailey’s head.

When his palm moved away, Hailey’s body jerked violently, like a small animal pierced through the skull by an arrow. She widened her eyes a little, as if she wanted to ask something, but she could no longer ask anything.

Myss blinked. Her Magibase tit had gone rigid on her head. The little bird no longer hopped or sang. It was as quiet as a specimen.

Hailey was still breathing, but she was only breathing. Other than that, she was no different from that bottle of dried ink.

“I remember now. You used this trick when I was still sealed,” Myss said.

“There are times when ‘having emotions’ is itself a curse.” Salaar didn’t deny. “Even my companions couldn’t withstand darkness that was too long.”

Myss didn’t hide the mockery in his tone. “Ah yes, companions. You turned some ‘companions’ into walking corpses and personally killed quite a few—”

Salaar glanced at him, his eyes without the slightest ripple. “I already said I would respect their choices.”

“…All for the sake of ending the Night Scourge,” he added with a smile.

Myss suddenly felt bored. Sprinkling salt on Salaar’s wounds was fun, but if you sprinkle hard when there is no wound, people usually call that a “salt-bath massage”.

Did Salaar truly have no mental weak points? Myss sympathized with Mina for once.

When they left the room again, Salaar stood at the front.

Hailey followed quietly at his right. Her steps were steady and her face expressionless. It took her a long time to blink once. The tear tracks on her cheeks hadn’t yet dried.

Mr. Hero held a cluster of golden light in his left hand, like holding a tiny sun. Myss used Salaar as a meat shield and looked around curiously.

The darkness felt solid and pressed down low over their heads. The air was stifling and damp. Within a few steps of leaving the room, Myss’s clothes were almost entirely stuck to his skin, and even breathing became labored.

That sweet bloody smell grew more obvious, so thick that Myss’s throat itched. It was less like they had left the room and more like they had entered something, even though the outside seemed far more spacious than that room.

From the depths of the darkness came sticky rubbing sounds from time to time, along with indistinct dripping.

Whenever they slowed their pace, there would be footsteps nearby that hovered near and far. Yet when Salaar shone the golden light, there was always nothing at the source.

The only good news was that the city’s layout hadn’t changed much.

The houses they passed were still there and all were lit, although their appearance was a little off. They all had the same gray little windows, with cracks in the glass that were exactly identical.

Myss walked up to the nearest house to him, opened the window without ceremony, and peered inside.

He wasn’t very surprised to find that the furnishings inside were exactly the same as in Scintilla’s home. It had been kept just as they had left it. Brilliant golden flames from Salaar still danced in the hearth.

The debt receipt was set squarely on the table, and line after line of “Mother sends you her regards” was unusually clear.

With Salaar’s silent cooperation, Myss opened several more windows. The scenes inside were exactly the same… Perhaps all the thousands of lights they could see at the moment were all “Scintilla’s home”.

“If I walk inside now, will there be many of me at the same time?” Myss mused.

Salaar’s expression was solemn. “I doubt it. This is more like a simple environmental replay… Something like ‘you can go home anytime and anywhere’.”

Myss actually thought that was quite convenient. They could return to the room to investigate at any time and wouldn’t have to sleep on soggy mud at night.

“I see. Scintilla is ‘Patience’ and Mina is her mother.”

Myss felt this trip had yielded a great deal. He cheerfully stepped on the muck and listened to it gurgle.

“Ten years ago Scintilla used the Magibase Summoning Ritual to resurrect her dead mother. It has to be that.”

Philomina’s signature and the handwriting of “Mother sends you her regards” in Patience’s letters were exactly the same. Myss could tell. As for what came after, he didn’t know yet. For the moment that was the only physical evidence.

Salaar didn’t reply. Holding the radiant ball of light, he headed for the city wall not far away.

Rosha’s wall was still very high. The weeds in the gaps were nowhere to be seen. In the glow of the golden light, lumps of shadow writhed in the cracks between bricks. Pale pink magic twisted slowly, winding through like veins.

They disliked the light and were struggling to burrow deeper into the wall.

Myss grabbed one and yanked hard.

The thing was slippery and really did feel like a blood vessel. Looking closely, it was clearly one of the threads of magic that tainted food, only far more solid than it had been outside.

Myss had already pulled out two or three meters of it, yet the pale pink filament still didn’t end.

Salaar: “Stop playing around. Keep an eye on Hailey. I’ll go up the wall and take a look.”

“Mina’s range of influence must be limited. We need to confirm the boundary of the abnormal area first.” He added this in case Myss didn’t follow.

Myss said, “If I’m not by your side and you die, what then?”

“Over this distance, there’s no problem.” The corner of Salaar’s mouth gave a twitch.

A sudden idea struck Myss. He rushed forward dragging the pale pink filament, tied it around Salaar’s waist, and even thoughtfully finished it with a tight knot.

Both the filament and Salaar gave a simultaneous struggle, and neither seemed very pleased.

“Now it’s fine.” Myss swung the pale pink filament. “Hey, off you go—”

Before Salaar could speak, Myss whirled him up like a flail and slung him onto the city wall. Fortunately, Mr. Hero had ample combat experience. He adjusted his posture beautifully and landed steady upon the parapet.

Golden light illuminated the top of the wall, and both Myss and Salaar fell silent.

—The outer side of the wall was completely sealed.

The barrier was a deep red. Its surface gleamed wetly, and the veins beneath were visible in every detail. From time to time it twitched, giving off the warm, gamey reek found only in entrails.

The wall of flesh fit snugly over the city wall, like a half-round cloche on a dinner plate. Myss couldn’t see its edges at a glance. It might well have covered the entire city of Rosha.

Salaar lifted his eyes. He raised his hand and slashed with his ritual dagger, slicing through the wet fleshy membrane.

With a stomach-turning stench, pale pink slime erupted. It congealed rapidly in midair and turned into countless pale pink threads that shot down into the ground.

Seeing the slime about to splash Salaar, Myss gave the filament a fierce yank. Salaar was pulled down from the wall first, and not a drop of slime touched him.

The instant Salaar landed, Myss sprang lightly onto the wall. He swung his fork and drove it deep into the wound Salaar had made. His magic poured into the membrane at once, and an ominous black spread outward.

“Mom,” Hailey suddenly said, stretching out a hand and pointing at the massive wound.

Almost at the same time, the hair on Myss’s body stood on end. For the first time in his life, he tasted a living creature’s crisis instinct—

The membrane convulsed violently. The gash blew open and spewed countless black and red arms.

The tainted portion turned entirely into graceful arms. As if they had been struck by something tremendous, they reached toward him like anemone tentacles, seeking to give him a fervent embrace.

Bad. Myss’s pupils trembled.

The membrane’s strength was completely off. It easily expelled his black magic and returned it to him doubled—in an instant those deformed arms wrapped around Myss. Hot, sticky emotion surged and was forced into his skull.

… You and I are the closest people in the world. You and I are the closest people in the world. You and I are the closest people in the world.

The pale pink magic enveloped Myss. He felt himself sink into a sweet, scalding swamp.

…Rely on the one who bore you. Rely on the one who bore you. Rely on the one who bore you.

That damned swamp boiled his brain and tried to brand the “nurturing love” into his consciousness by brute force.

The emotional interference Mina had warped earlier had been like a fingertip that touched and withdrew. Now it was more like a blade thrust into his chest, stirring his heart without mercy.

…I love you. I love you. I love you.

The “nurturing love” was right ahead. It was flawless, beautiful, and safe, waiting for him with open arms. Myss knew that if he threw himself into its embrace, all pain would cease to exist.

How perfect, except it had chosen the wrong target.

The Archdemon regarded that love with something close to contempt, as one might watch crows peck a corpse. No matter how thick the stench of decay, no matter how blissfully the crows ate, it didn’t stir any desire in Him.

Myss gathered his black magic at his fingertips and tore at the pale pink power engulfing him with all his strength. Yet the unlucky stuff only grew more numerous, wound tighter and tighter, and swiftly wrapped him into a cocoon.

When Salaar had attacked the membrane a moment ago, the reaction hadn’t been this intense. What did that mean? It meant that in Mina’s eyes he was more dangerous than Salaar!

Myss flailed and found grim amusement in the thought. He knew it, that dachshund-fragile guy Salaar was only long in the body, not in the nerve*.

*Clarity: He’s basically saying Salaar outwardly looks big/tall (long), but it doesn’t necessarily make him tough, using a dachshund as an example (it’s has a long body but is quite small and not all that threatening).

Rip.

A seam opened in the magical cocoon. A hand gleaming with golden light reached in and clamped down hard on Myss’s shoulder.

Myss: “?”

No, how could Salaar be completely unaffected? That guy still had a little humanity left… right?

Had Mina’s magic targeted only him? Or—

“Mom,” Salaar whispered to him.

Myss: “……”

Myss immediately drew back into the cocoon, forced the slit shut, and wished he could stitch it up twice for good measure.

Things outside were too insane. Perhaps he should simply die in here.

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The author has something to say:

Next chapter updates at 00:10. The next one is a big ten-thousand-word chapter for the VIP start, and there will be a raffle.

Subscriptions over the next few days are extremely important to me, so please support if you can. Try not to stockpile for now.

Also asking for some favorites on my author page.

————————————

Since I want to hit the earnings chart, the schedule is adjusted to the following.

From the 21st to the 23rd, Sunday through Tuesday, updates at 00:10. On the 24th, Wednesday, update at 23:10. After that, back to daily updates at 20:00.

After VIP begins, I will try to post more content each chapter.

————————————

Here is a bit of promo for my upcoming novel. See my author page for details or click through from the latest chapter note.

“A Crime Unworthy of Death”

On the night of their decisive victory, General Luo Xia was mysteriously attacked and his consciousness slipped into a parallel world.

In this unlucky timeline, they failed to stop the apocalypse, the base was destroyed by enemy espers, his special-ops unit never even existed, and he lost contact with all his subordinates. His childhood best friend and brother-in-arms, General Yi Beiwang, had no memory of him at all.

Then Luo Xia discovered that in this worldline the enemy organization’s world-ending boss—whose identity was shrouded in mystery and “deserves a thousand deaths”… seemed to be himself.

Grim, justice-obsessed gong × adaptable, sly shou

Post-apocalyptic espers. A story where he tragically becomes the enemy boss and, while being hunted by his comrade (?).

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Kinky Thoughts:

This is the last of the free chapters on jjwxc. If you’ve been enjoying the novel so far and are able to, please consider supporting the author by buying the raws. You can use google chrome with their auto translate and this guide on how to buy novels on jjwxc. Remember, only with your (financial) support can artists continue to produce more great works.

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