Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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

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Chapter 130: It Knows

The confession chamber.

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

He had definitely slept for more than eight hours.

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

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

…Hm?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

At that, Salaar’s expression turned slightly grave.

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

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

He carefully avoided using words such as “leave.”

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

Salaar nodded.

Could this be a plot aimed specifically at them?

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

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

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

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

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

Salaar poked Myss’s open palm.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You don’t care?” Myss asked.

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

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

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

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

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

Myss sat frozen on the bed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mommy!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Achoo!”

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

“You can’t do that, Mommy.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Myss stopped chewing.

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

Sogné spoke excitedly, his cheeks flushing with happiness.

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

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

This “child” knew what they had done.

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

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

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

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

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

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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

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Chapter 129: A Prayer Before Bed

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

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

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

Creak.

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

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

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

Kalen waited quietly in the corner for Egan to leave.

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

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

Kalen: “…”

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

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

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

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

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

He chanted softly in a clear, pleasant voice.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Praise the loving god.”

“Praise the loving god.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wait… When had Hermit been injured?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kalen’s throat tightened.

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

“Soon…”

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

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

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

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

Kalen immediately shut his mouth and offered no further response.

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

But Egan had no intention of stopping.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Egan closed his eyes.

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

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

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

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

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

Kalen stood there in a daze.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He will forgive you…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“…Good night, my dear little brother.”

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

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

“Good night, my dear Kalen.”

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

---

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

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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

---

Chapter 128: Sogné

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

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

“Mommy.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Daddy!”

Myss and Salaar: “…”

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

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

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

“Who are you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Could this brat be an incarnation of the Blind God?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s going on?”

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

Salaar skillfully peeled and sliced the potatoes.

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

Only show friendliness?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mommy, carry me!”

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

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

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

Salaar solemnly waved the soup ladle.

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

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

“So pretty,” he said happily.

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

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

Myss sniffed. The scent was completely real.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He even poured Myss a cup of clear water.

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

Myss fled like an arrow.

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

Less than two seconds later, the door creaked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Trust you?” Myss sneered.

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

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

In the child’s bedroom.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Daddy. Mommy.”

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

…

The Root Church corridor.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Unfortunately, this time he was wrong.

The light footsteps drew closer and closer, gradually slowing.

At last, they stopped precisely outside his door.

---

The author has something to say:

Now they really do have a child. (…

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

---

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

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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

---

Chapter 127: The Taboo

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No need,” Myss refused immediately.

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

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

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

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

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

Myss dismissed him contemptuously. Salaar would certainly refuse—

“All right,” Salaar said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

But barely five minutes later, he was irritated again.

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

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

Myss examined it several times but found nothing suspicious.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Perhaps it was some subtle human instinct.

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

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

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

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

There was no movement inside.

Strange. Had the Dragon Fae already left?

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

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

Myss hissed, “What’s going on?”

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

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

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

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

As he spoke, he gave Myss a questioning look.

Myss shook his head.

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

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

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

At that moment, a knock sounded at the door.

“It’s me, Egan.”

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

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

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

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

Myss: “?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Myss: “…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m… fine…” A weak voice emerged.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Salaar dressed quickly, then turned toward Myss.

Myss had already obediently leaned his head toward him.

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

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

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

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

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

Salaar’s eyes crinkled with a smile.

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

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

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

Salaar deliberately let Myss walk ahead of him.

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

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

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

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

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

Everything happened in an instant.

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

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

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

What a strange requirement, Myss thought.

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

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

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

“Mommy!”

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

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

---

The author has something to say:

Myss: ?

Myss: ???

Myss: Is this the future or hell?

Salaar: [okay]

---

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

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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

---

Chapter 126: Traveling by Night

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It seemed returning to the room was impossible.

Myss and Salaar exchanged a glance.

“I understand,” Myss said, unusually cooperative.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Father Kalen’s tone became serious.

“Understood. I’ll be fine on my own.”

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

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

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

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

“Egan,” Garnet greeted him.

The boy walked past Kalen without looking sideways.

“That gentleman has already gone to sleep.”

“Good. Let’s go.”

Priest Garnet nodded.

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

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

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

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

……

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Salaar: “…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Faint music drifted from not far away.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Both of them unconsciously drifted toward the plaza.

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

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

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

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

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

Myss followed the procession between the two rows of pillars.

Garnet extended both hands and began reciting an obscure incantation.

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

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

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

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

Only one person didn’t join in.

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

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

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

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

He wondered whether Father Kalen had followed them.

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

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

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

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

Snap. His imagination suddenly plunged into darkness.

A cold fact struck him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Is that so? Myss remained doubtful.

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

Prayer room or preparation room would both sound better.

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

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

---

The author has something to say:

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

---

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

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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

---

Chapter 125: The Witnesses’ Infiltration Plan

Although Myss hadn’t been in the human world for very long, even he felt that the Crimson Marsh possessed a strange sense of order.

Mondicia was vast and sparsely populated, and its customs were relatively isolated. Myss could understand all that. Yet he still had the feeling that the entire city obeyed some indescribable rule.

There was only one inn, and it served only three meals a day. Unlike other cities, it had no restaurant open at all hours. There was also only one tavern, selling every kind of drink along with desserts and simple food to accompany them.

Now they had found the bakery. It sold nothing but bread and jam, with only a few desserts. When Myss looked closely, he saw that the loaves in the display case were identical to those served at the inn. They had clearly been bought here.

There were no competing shops clustered together, nor businesses with heavily overlapping services.

This was plainly a desolate city patched together from ruins, yet the entire place was as peaceful as a sealed aquarium.

Night had only just fallen. This should have been the most chaotic time of day, but the Crimson Marsh remained just as orderly as it had been during daylight.

A bell jingled as Myss pushed open the bakery door.

There was only one person inside, a plump, round-faced woman sitting in a rocking chair and reading a book with enormous print. The moment she heard customers enter, she lifted her face and gave them a warm smile.

“Welcome, dears.”

“The bread is all under the glass covers. Choose whatever you like, but don’t squeeze it. Bring it to me when you’re ready to pay. If you’re not sure what you want, I can give you some suggestions.”

“Thank you.” Salaar smiled and nodded.

Myss naturally needed no shopping advice. He sniffed the warm aroma of bread and bought two small round loaves of roughly equal size, along with an extra piece of fresh, tempting nut toast.

It was all Salaar’s fault. Myss had eaten quite a few delicious nuts that afternoon, and now he couldn’t stop craving them.

Seeing Myss carry over a large piece of toast, Salaar also bought some butter and jam. The woman, who appeared to be the owner, placed everything inside a net bag woven from fine cord and handed it to them with both hands.

“The Eye-Opening Ceremony is tomorrow,” Salaar said as he accepted the bag, making no move to leave immediately. “Will the shops close? We’re witnesses from out of town, so we don’t know much about the local customs.”

“Oh, no, not at all.” The woman laughed heartily. “Every shop will operate as usual, and there won’t be any messy street stalls either. Lord Blind God is our savior and friend, not an excuse for entertainment.”

She must have noticed their curiosity, because she pulled a bowl of homemade biscuits from beneath the counter.

The biscuits had an unusual fragrance. Myss saw crushed spices and medicinal herbs scattered across them.

The woman picked one up herself and took a hearty bite.

“Since you’re guests here for the ceremony, try my newest recipe. If even outsiders can get used to the flavor, I certainly won’t have to worry about selling them.”

Then she winked at Salaar and Myss.

“How about two cups of soothing honey tea as well?”

Myss stared at the dark flecks of herbs. Probably only Kalen would find biscuits like these appealing.

He nudged Salaar with his body. Understanding immediately, Salaar stepped forward, politely picked one up, and chewed it slowly.

“…A very novel flavor. Guests who enjoy stronger tastes will certainly like it.”

“Oh my, you young people certainly have a way with words.”

The woman laughed again. She pulled a round copper teapot from beneath the counter and poured them two cups of tea.

It seemed she was happy for them to stay a while longer.

“Speaking of which, what exactly is the Blind God’s Blessing?” Salaar asked with a gossipy expression, looking every bit like an idle tourist. “Did all the sacrifices really end up marrying?”

The woman immediately became more animated. She solemnly patted down her skirt.

“Of course. My younger sister and her husband met when they were selected as sacrifices.”

“Bless the Blind God, the two of them are doing wonderfully now. My sister is even pregnant. To tell you the truth, I made these biscuits for her. She loves herbal tea more than anything.”

“Lord Blind God is truly merciful,” Salaar praised generously.

No, this was definitely strange, Myss thought.

The Blind God selected two young people out of nowhere, and after serving as sacrifices once, they had to marry? Why call it the Blind God? It might as well be renamed the God of Love.

Were they affected by mental magic while serving as sacrifices? Or did they undergo some strange ritual?

Unfortunately, the Archdemon was already exhausted and couldn’t be bothered to think any harder. This matter probably had little to do with V.O.R anyway. Participating in the Eye-Opening Ceremony was essentially a vacation, and Myss had no desire to tire himself out.

So he decided to count the pieces of nuts in the toast instead.

“Salaar!”

Just as Salaar was preparing to ask more questions, the Dragon Fae squeezed through the crack in the door. He dove forward and nearly crashed into Salaar’s nose.

Under the yellowish light, the Dragon Fae looked entirely black. His scales shimmered faintly like polished obsidian.

“A group of people has gone to the inn looking for you. Judging by their clothes, they’re clergy. You should hurry back and see what they want.”

Tass glanced at the bakery owner and spoke as indirectly as possible.

They had come.

Myss and Salaar exchanged a glance, immediately said goodbye to the bewildered woman, and left without even drinking the honey tea.

Once outside, however, they didn’t hurry back. Instead, they found a secluded corner.

Myss waved one hand, and the clothes covering his upper body vanished instantly.

“We have to be quick,” he said solemnly.

Tass: “?”

Tass: “Hello? I’m still here.”

Salaar gave Tass a helpless look, then moved his fingers with practiced speed. Within seconds, he had dismantled the bread bag into several lengths of sturdy hemp cord.

Myss condensed part of his magic into a thick needle and used it to guide the cord through the two small round loaves. Then he tied them across his chest.

“How does it look?”

Tass: “…???”

The scene before him had already surpassed the limits of his comprehension.

Salaar looked Myss up and down for a while, then shook his head.

“Not right.”

“What isn’t right?”

Myss was still trying to understand when Salaar clapped both hands hard against the two separate loaves, flattening them slightly so their edges lay seamlessly against Myss’s skin.

Then Salaar selected several additional cords and added two shoulder straps, making sure the loaves hung at the correct height.

Myss raised a brow and restored his ranger’s clothing.

Salaar’s technique really was good. Myss’s figure now looked much more natural than before.

“You seem very experienced,” Myss clicked his tongue.

“I’ve dissected quite a few corpses. That counts as personal experience,” Salaar said with a smile. “I can at least tell whether the anatomy looks correct.”

“Can someone explain this to me?” Tass asked with difficulty. “You do realize how strange this looks, especially to a Dragon Fae?”

To the genderless Dragon Faes, this behavior was roughly equivalent to suddenly attaching horns or a mane to oneself.

“Let’s go back now,” Salaar said. “Keep feeling confused. That genuine emotion will be useful.”

Tass: “…”

He had truly had enough of these two.

……

At the inn.

Facing a solemn group of clergy, Father Kalen tugged self-consciously at his new clothes, even though he knew perfectly well that he wasn’t wearing the robes of the Order of Shadows.

“So you’re saying our companions were selected as sacrifices?” Earl looked astonished. “So suddenly? And both of them were chosen?”

“Yes.”

The young priest leading the group took out a roll of parchment and checked the names again.

“As I informed you earlier, Lord Blind God delivered a prophecy and selected Mr. Salaar and Miss Myss.”

Kalen: “Miss… Myss…?”

Earl gave a loud, deliberate cough.

“It’s like this, sir. Those two are a couple. We only happened to travel with them for a while and don’t know them particularly well.”

“As you can see, they aren’t even staying in the same room as us. As far as I know, they only went out to buy something and should return soon.”

The young priest nodded solemnly.

Kalen hesitated, then decided to ask the most important question.

“So we must be separated from them.”

“My apologies. During the Eye-Opening Ceremony, no unrelated persons are permitted inside the Root Church.”

It seemed that to prevent accidents, Kalen would have to use the Lord of Shadow’s power to infiltrate the church. He gave an inward sigh.

Fortunately, the people here liked to wear gemstone fragments, so Tass would also find it easy to hide.

However, that meant Earl would be the only person excluded from their plans.

They needed an excuse.

“We’ve traveled separately before. It’s nothing,” Earl said before Kalen could speak. “Mr. Kalen, I’m not feeling very well. I’ll return to the room and rest.”

“Let me know once there’s any news.”

The young priest nodded toward the people behind him. A plainly dressed boy stepped forward.

“Just in case, I’ll escort you back to your room.”

“Please understand. Time is limited, and we don’t want any accidents,” the young priest added gently. “There have been cases in the past where selected witnesses became overly nervous and ran off.”

Earl laughed. “Don’t worry. I’m not going back to warn anyone. Follow me if you like.”

Seeing Earl preparing to leave, Kalen hurriedly stumbled through an excuse.

“I-I’d still like to see more of the Crimson Marsh at night, so tonight I’ll…”

“Do whatever you want. You don’t need to report to me. I sleep like the dead anyway.” Earl waved without looking back.

That should have fooled him, Kalen thought, releasing a long breath.

When Myss and Salaar returned, he would use the Lord of Shadows’ concealment and quietly follow the procession from behind.

Of course, he believed that Salaar truly was the legendary “Saint Salaar.” But Salaar had also told them that his strength hadn’t yet fully recovered. Kalen had to fulfill his responsibilities as a teammate.

Meanwhile.

Earl opened the room door and made a deliberate inviting gesture toward the boy behind him.

“After you.”

The boy kept one hand on the short knife at his waist and stepped warily through the doorway.

Under his scrutiny, Earl slowly locked the window and sat down on the edge of the bed.

“Don’t mind me. Please rest,” the boy said stiffly. “Once Mr. Salaar and Miss Myss return, I’ll leave immediately.”

“That won’t do,” Earl said with a smile.

“Wha—”

The boy frowned, but before he could finish the question, the smiling Earl vanished from before his eyes.

The next instant, something cold pressed against the boy’s neck.

The sensation was horribly familiar. It was clearly his own short knife.

The boy’s body tensed instinctively as he tried to shout, but no sound emerged from his throat.

Before his terrified eyes, his limbs dissolved into flesh-colored smoke. His entire body was drawn into a black, pearl-like sphere.

The short knife hit the floor with a clang. Within a few brief seconds, nothing remained except a heap of empty clothes.

Earl hummed softly and casually played with the black bead, which was only slightly larger than a pea.

The bead was smooth and warm, retaining the temperature of a human body. It pulsed faintly in his palm. The boy had been completely sealed inside it.

Earl was quite certain that when everything was over, the unfortunate child would remember nothing.

Then Earl flipped his hand, and the bead vanished as if by magic.

“Time to work…”

Click.

Earl took two steps back and locked the door.

The indoor lamps continued flickering, stretching Earl’s shadow far across the room.

A series of obscure chants followed, accompanied by the scalp-prickling sound of flesh being squeezed and reshaped.

The long shadow flowed, twisted, and swayed across the wooden floor.

When it finally stabilized again, it had become considerably smaller and thinner.

The naked “boy” hummed a tune as he picked up the clothes scattered across the floor.

“Kalen, Kalen, Kalen.”

The person who had been “Earl” adjusted his voice, gradually sounding more and more like the boy himself.

“…Haa. Since you insist on following them, I suppose I’ll have to accompany you to the very end.”

---

The author has something to say:

Myss inside the seal: This Salaar is completely inexplicable. He plays with his own food every day. Ridiculous.

Myss now: [cat paw] (playing with bread) [cat paw]

---

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

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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

---

Chapter 124: The Deep Pit

Myss tugged at the magical thread, fine beads of sweat forming at his temples.

At first, Brief and Bedsheet Archdemon had been pulling the thread along at an unhurried pace. But not long ago, it had suddenly slammed to a halt and stopped moving. Myss had assumed the thread had extended too far and the flow of magic had been severed.

Yet no matter how many waves of magic he fed into it, the thread remained completely unresponsive. He couldn’t understand what had gone wrong.

Only a few minutes ago had it suddenly started moving again, shooting forward like an arrow.

“Brief and Bedsheet may have stopped for a while,” Salaar said beside him.

The Hero had clearly begun treating the sight of Myss casting magic as entertainment. His eyes remained on the Archdemon while his mouth worked through a handful of nuts, his teeth crunching loudly through the kernels. Whenever he shelled an especially plump one, he would casually turn his hand and push it into Myss’s mouth.

At times like this, the Archdemon would chew the nut at high speed, his cheeks moving rapidly in a way that was extremely pleasing to people, or more precisely, to Salaar.

“They stopped for that long?” Myss swallowed the nut with a gulp and grumbled unhappily.

“This world is fascinating to them,” Salaar soothed. “Maybe something happened along the way. We can ask them when they return.”

If controlling magic over such a long distance weren’t so exhausting, Myss genuinely wanted to develop an eavesdropping function for the thread. He curled his lip but restrained himself.

The magical thread continued extending.

Gradually, Myss began to feel an unpleasant tugging sensation inside his brain. Just as even swallowing nuts was becoming difficult, the thread stopped once more and traced a circle in place.

That was the signal that it had reached its destination.

Myss had no doubts. The thread couldn’t let him see or hear, but he could sense a dense magical presence and the outlines of square blocks of stone.

Aside from being a little exhausted, everything had gone unbelievably smoothly.

…By the time Myss’s magical thread found the High Priest, the sun had already set, and Myss was nearly sprawled flat across the bed.

“He’s in the largest room. He has the strongest magic, and a beard so long it almost drags across the floor.”

Myss spoke between heavy breaths. Even though he had prepared himself mentally, actually doing it had nearly exhausted him to death.

Salaar held a cup of raspberry-jam pudding and brought a spoonful to Myss’s lips.

“Yes, yes. Very impressive.”

Myss glared at him. “Easy for you to say.”

“I originally planned to persuade you first, then sneak into the underground church tonight and control the priest with mental magic,” Salaar said. “For me, the most difficult part would have been convincing you to dress as a woman. I didn’t expect you to be so… enthusiastic.”

Myss froze. “What?”

Salaar withdrew the spoon. “You didn’t seriously think I would happily accept the Blind God’s Blessing with some girl I don’t know, did you?”

“It’s you I love. If you refused, and I immediately turned around and paired myself with someone else, what kind of ‘love’ would that be?”

That was right. Salaar was extremely skilled in mental magic.

Myss stared blankly.

He had never needed to struggle so hard to develop a new spell in the first place. He had simply assumed that the great hero Salaar wouldn’t care about some details unrelated to their actual mission.

…No, that was wrong. Salaar was his enemy. He shouldn’t rely on an enemy in the first place. This hadn’t been wasted effort. This was called seizing the initiative!

Myss convinced himself at lightning speed and continued controlling the thread deep underground.

Now that he had grown accustomed to directing magic through a distant extension, he could even spare his mouth to complain.

“All right, I understand what you were thinking. Why are you smiling like an idiot?”

“Am I?” Salaar touched his lips. “That must be because your smile is so twisted. Press the corners of your mouth down a little. They’re nearly curling into waves.”

“I’m not smiling!”

Myss bared his teeth and nearly broke his precious magical thread.

……

Underground, inside the Root Church.

Night hadn’t yet fallen completely, but the interior of the church was already shrouded in darkness. Magical lamps decorated the walls, spreading dim, ghostly green flames over the stone bricks. It wasn’t a lush vibrant green but rather the color of will-o’-the-wisps hovering over a pile of bones.

A magical thread as fine as spider silk hid inside a crack between the bricks, blending perfectly into the shadows.

A few steps away, an extremely elderly man straightened his body.

He had snow-white hair and a long white beard. The beard had been carefully groomed, its end nearly brushing the floor, and gave off the sweet fragrance of nut oil.

His long hair had been even more meticulously arranged into several braids, each decorated with fine hemp cords strung with beautiful, dried fruits and herbs. Fresh flowers had been tucked into every gap.

His clothing covered far more than that of the younger people. A broad robe wrapped around his withered body, making him look like a flower bud that had lost all its moisture.

The old man gripped a staff tightly in his right hand. A massive green gemstone sphere floated above its tip, radiating a soft glow that nearly blended into the flames around him.

“My God…”

The old man coughed twice and lifted his face. He was so old that his eyebrows had grown frighteningly long, nearly covering his eyes entirely.

Yet there was nothing in front of him.

He stood at the center of the great hall. By all logic, there should have been an enormous divine statue before him, or at the very least some sacred emblem.

Instead, ten paces ahead of the old man, at the very center of the entire church, there was only a massive pit.

The pit was more than ten meters across. Around its edge stood numerous stone statues roughly the size of real people.

Carved from snow-white marble, they depicted men and women, young and old. Some knelt in prayer, while others reached toward the bottomless pit as though trying to grasp something within it.

The statues were clearly ancient, yet astonishingly lifelike. Looking only at their silhouettes steeped in shadow, they were almost indistinguishable from living people.

The only unsettling detail was their eyes.

Every statue had its eyes closed, without exception.

“My God, please grant us your prophecy…”

The old man called out in a hoarse voice. Moist points of light shimmered beneath his long eyebrows.

The pit gave no response. Only the faint whisper of wind moved through the temple.

The old man sighed softly and walked several steps forward with the aid of his staff, drawing closer to the dark opening.

He opened his mouth and began to sing in a dry, withered voice.

It wasn’t an incantation or a prayer, merely a lullaby with the simplest possible lyrics.

The old man’s voice was rough, and the melody plain. The song couldn’t be called beautiful in any sense.

Yet as it echoed through the great hall, faint and indistinct murmurs rose from within the pit, like the babbling of some creature.

“My God, I hear you… Ah, Yolanda, who lives in the southwest. Such a memorable and lovely young woman. She will become your radiant right eye…”

He muttered unclearly and bowed deeply toward the black pit.

Then he slowly turned around. The end of his wooden staff struck the stone bricks with every step, producing a soft tapping sound.

With a creak, the tall doors of the hall slowly slid open.

Bright, warm light from the corridor poured inside. The old man narrowed his eyes and released a long breath.

“Our God has chosen the right eye.”

He announced to the young priests waiting outside.

“It is the one who lives in the southwest… who lives… the witness staying at the inn by the city gate… Myss…”

The young priests looked at one another.

“My Lord, all of this year’s witnesses were registered. Every one of them is male,” one male priest said, lowering his head. “And there has never before been a case where two witnesses were chosen at the same time…”

“Are you questioning the word of God?” The old man’s voice was hollow yet authoritative. “The Blind God has chosen both eyes. We must obey.”

The male priest lowered his head even further and fell silent.

The others exchanged uncertain glances, but no one else spoke.

The old man seemed somewhat dazed. He lightly shook his head and stroked his snow-white beard.

After a long pause, he vaguely said, “I am tired. Arrange the remaining matters according to the old customs.”

……

“…Just like that?”

Back in the inn room, the back of Myss’s clothes was soaked through with sweat.

He had been careless. He had never considered that controlling another person meant he would also have to invent the words himself. Fortunately, there was a Salaar beside him with an absurd excess of knowledge.

“That should be enough for now,” Salaar said. “It seems your control hasn’t yet reached the point where you can completely reshape a human’s perception.”

“But I can make him confused.” Myss huffed. “As long as I keep controlling him, he won’t… What are you doing?”

Salaar climbed onto the bed and wrapped his arms around Myss from behind.

One hand slid along Myss’s arm before resting over the back of the hand with which Myss controlled the magical thread.

Myss had been concentrating on controlling the thread since noon. By now, the Archdemon was thoroughly exhausted, his entire body warm, making him feel especially strange to hold.

Myss shifted unhappily.

“I asked you a question. What are you doing?”

“Even if the Eye-Opening Ceremony sounds peaceful, we must remain vigilant at all times,” Salaar said softly. “You shouldn’t waste all your energy on something like this. Let me borrow your magic.”

Before Myss could respond, a streak of golden light appeared along his magical thread.

It was even finer than the black magic itself. Tentatively, it wound around the thread’s surface and flowed along it.

Less than two seconds later, Myss felt Salaar’s weight sink against him.

Salaar clicked his tongue softly, his rapid breaths brushing against the back of Myss’s neck.

“What, did you think my technique was simple?”

Myss let out a mocking laugh and immediately seized the chance to sneer.

“Even after absorbing the memories of so many humans, your understanding of magic is still pretty lackluster.”

“It can’t be helped. How could pitiful little me compare with the Chaos Archdemon?”

Salaar didn’t take offense; instead, he simply rested his chin on Myss’s shoulder.

“I’m already satisfied to steal even a little knowledge from you.”

Myss gave a pleased hum and generously decided to support Salaar’s weight.

He could sense Salaar’s magic using his thread as a foundation and extending outward with awkward uncertainty.

To Myss, that clumsiness was nearly incomprehensible, like a fish struggling to understand how someone could drown.

Still, he allowed Salaar’s golden light to climb along the thread until it touched the distant old man.

“Done,” Salaar said tiredly. “I replaced the chosen person in his memories with you. Now, even if you release your control…”

Before he could finish, the magical thread snapped.

The two of them collapsed together on the spot, too exhausted even to lift their arms.

As they fell, Myss used the last of his strength to make sure his hero cushion landed underneath him.

They lay together on the bed. Through a narrow gap in the curtains, they could see a tiny patch of starlight.

Myss rested his head on Salaar’s chest.

Salaar’s heart was beating quickly, thumping so hard that Myss couldn’t lie comfortably. The sweat on their bodies had gone cold and made their clothing stick to their skin, yet Salaar didn’t even have the strength to cast a cleansing spell.

Judging only from their appearance, anyone who didn’t know better might think the two had just fought a vicious battle.

“…I suddenly think we’re both extremely bored. We spent an entire day doing something completely meaningless.”

Myss spoke gloomily.

“You turned me into an idiot, you bastard.”

Looking only at the result, the Archdemon and the Hero had racked their brains and exhausted every bit of strength merely to become sacrifices to some nameless wild god.

Never mind that it had nothing to do with their investigation. The Eye-Opening Ceremony didn’t even seem to offer any visible reward.

Myss had only ever seen this kind of deranged behavior during their time inside the seal.

Salaar had once gone to tremendous effort to send an entire bag of dried mushrooms into the air using bright magical light. He had waited for them to explode outward like fireworks, then personally gone around collecting them one by one.

At the time, Myss had been curious whether Salaar would become so anxious that he couldn’t sleep if Myss hid one or two with his tentacles.

Yet back then, he had still been intelligent enough not to be ruled by such a stupid impulse.

…And now look at him. He had been corrupted by Salaar! Worse still, Salaar bared his teeth in an infuriating grin.

“You only noticed now?”

Myss rolled over unhappily and sprawled across Salaar’s body. “I’ll remember this debt… Hey, when do you think the Blind God’s people will come for us?”

Salaar casually squeezed his sweat-dampened braid.

“Unfortunately, Brief didn’t mention the exact time, and my magic wasn’t capable of eavesdropping. Just in case, you should sleep first. I’ll wake you when they arrive.”

“No. Then I won’t have time to prepare. I need to get ready before I sleep,” Myss declared solemnly.

The closer the visual illusion was to his real appearance, the easier it would be to control.

To increase the chance of success, he needed to dress himself up a little.

With that thought, Myss laboriously crawled off the bed and reached toward the plate that had held the bread.

“Where’s my bread?” Myss slowly turned his head. “The two round loaves. I deliberately left them on the plate!”

Salaar: “I ate them.”

Myss instinctively looked down at his own chest, then shot an accusatory look at Salaar.

“…”

Salaar: “…”

The Hero seemed to realize something, and a faint crack appeared in his expression.

Myss clenched his teeth. “Fine, just fine… Get up. Before the shops close, we need to go buy some bread.”

“…Okay.”

---

The author has something to say:

Myss: You’re not supposed to eat the props. [angry]

Salaar: ………………Okay. [afraid]

---

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

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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

---

Chapter 123: The Ouroboros

At noon, the world outside looked like molten gold.

Bedsheet Archdemon carried Brief close to the base of the walls, flying swiftly while Brief clutched the magical thread Myss had given him. Whenever shadows covered them, they looked like a mouse darting at full speed. A stray cat instinctively pounced at them, only to recoil in terror and puff up into a ball of fur.

“Turn right ahead.” Brief poked Bedsheet Archdemon’s soft body.

Bedsheet Archdemon made a muffled sound and smoothly rounded the corner, then grumbled in displeasure for several seconds.

“Sorry, sorry. I wasn’t doubting your memory,” Brief hurriedly apologized. “I just… Huh? Aren’t those Mr. Kalen and Mr. Earl?”

Bedsheet Archdemon came to an abrupt stop and tilted its head in confusion, nearly flinging tiny Brief off its back.

Outside a nearby tavern sat Father Kalen and Earl.

Taverns in the Crimson Marsh were different from those in other countries. They served only low-alcohol fruit wines, while all kinds of mixed fruit juices were far more popular. They also offered light meals made primarily from fruit.

In front of both Father Kalen and Earl sat plates folded from broad leaves. Each plate held boiled yellow fruit, roasted meat with fruit preserves, and little white rolls made from vine-tuber flour. They had also ordered layered golden-red fruit juices.

“Mr. Earl, may I ask why you specifically invited me out?” Father Kalen asked.

He had already changed clothes. He now wore loose local menswear, though there were no gemstone fragments embedded in it.

“Oh, I only wanted someone to have a drink with.”

Earl smiled pleasantly. “Kendrick and Myss are obviously a couple. I didn’t want to intrude, so I had no choice but to invite my roommate.”

The “sheet” atop Bedsheet Archdemon’s head immediately puffed up into two protruding animal ears.

“Bedsheet, we still have important work to do.”

Brief reached up to press the two ears down. The moment he flattened them, they sprang upright again with a flap. When Brief held them down, another pair appeared somewhere else and swayed tauntingly.

At the same time, Bedsheet Archdemon remained firmly suspended in midair, refusing to move.

“Woo woo woo,” it said profoundly, its ears swaying again.

“All right, we’ll only watch for a little while,” Brief said helplessly.

They had been trapped in the stick-figure world for too long and were extremely curious about the outside world. Bedsheet Archdemon was even more curious than Brief and refused to miss any excitement.

When they had gone out to investigate the night before, they had happened across a couple arguing by the roadside. Bedsheet Archdemon had been so captivated that it couldn’t fly away. Brief had tugged at it for ages before finally dragging it away.

Now that they had encountered people they knew, Bedsheet Archdemon was even less willing to abandon its desire to eavesdrop.

Whatever. They still had time.

Brief scratched the base of the Archdemon’s ears and pointed toward a nearby flowerpot.

Only then did Bedsheet Archdemon move, carrying Brief to the flowerpot. The two pressed themselves tightly against it, nearly blending into its complicated painted patterns.

A few steps away, Kalen and Earl noticed nothing. Their conversation continued.

“…I’m not very good at casual conversation,” Father Kalen said awkwardly.

“Haha, don’t worry about it.” Earl was still smiling, apparently finding Kalen’s nervousness amusing. “Relax. I won’t ask you about Kendrick and Myss. I know that would put you in a difficult position.”

“Why don’t we talk about something else? For example, the Eye-Opening Ceremony that’s about to begin. Aren’t you curious what will happen?”

Father Kalen immediately sat straighter.

He wasn’t particularly curious about the gods of other faiths. But he knew that since they had decided to attend as witnesses, this was essential information.

“I once read about it in an ancient book. Once the sacrifices are chosen, they must be taken to the underground church to bathe, receive blessings, and change into ceremonial clothing. Then they are paraded around the city in woven carriages to receive the people’s blessings. At the end of the procession, they return to the underground church.”

Earl took a sip of juice, then picked up the straw made from a vine tube and stirred the gold and red layers together until they became a vivid orange-yellow.

“The author didn’t know what happened after that. He had only heard the locals say that the male and female sacrifices must undergo some kind of ritual in a chamber as deep as a tomb, where they become the Blind God’s left and right eyes.”

“When the ritual ends and they return aboveground, flowers of every color grow across the floor of the Root Church, while a rare circular rainbow appears in the sky. It is said to be the most beautiful sight one can witness in the Crimson Marsh.”

Father Kalen’s brows moved slightly.

From the sound of it, the Eye-Opening Ceremony sounded like a surprisingly benign sacrificial festival. His ominous divination had also revealed no problem for the time being.

Even so, something weighed heavily on his heart, as though a storm were approaching.

“If the sacrifices aren’t harmed, why are they called ‘sacrifices’?” he asked instinctively.

“That’s how it was written in the book. Perhaps it’s some kind of cultural difference.”

Earl held the straw between his lips and drank nearly half the juice.

“I want to see the flowers and the rainbow. I imagine Kendrick and the others wouldn’t object either. It must be a perfect scene for a date.”

“I only hope it won’t delay us for too long,” Kalen replied dryly.

“You should relax a little, Father.”

Earl’s tone was smooth, carrying an indescribably sticky quality.

“Proper rest is necessary, don’t you agree?”

That subtle feeling grew even stronger. Kalen slightly furrowed his brows.

Earl Nebula had clearly had no previous connection to them, yet the way he spoke always gave Kalen the feeling that he was someone familiar.

And the way he said “Father” was far too intimate. Rather than a clerical title, his tone made it sound almost as though he were calling Kalen his own father.

So Kalen didn’t answer and simply lowered his head to drink his juice.

“Since we have time, why don’t I perform a divination for you?”

When Kalen remained silent, Earl continued on his own.

“It’s just a little hobby of mine. Everyone says I’m fairly accurate.”

At the word “divination,” Kalen instinctively raised his head.

Earl produced five thin wooden cards as though performing a magic trick. He shuffled them between his hands, then spread them into a fan and held them beneath Father Kalen’s nose.

“What are these?”

“Divination cards based on ancient alchemy, of my own invention. The four elements, plus one Ouroboros card,” Earl said lightly. “Go ahead. Draw one.”

With the wooden cards pushed directly under his nose, Father Kalen had no choice but to reach out and choose one at random.

The craftsmanship was poorer than he had expected, though the card was light, thin, and surprisingly flexible.

Kalen turned it over and saw a silver snake biting its own tail, forming a perfect circle.

Whether the artist’s skill was simply terrible or the effect was intentional, the silver snake’s eye had been drawn as a pitch-black hole, creating an inexplicable sense of discomfort.

“Ah, the Ouroboros.”

Earl withdrew the remaining cards and propped his chin on one hand.

“It appears you have encountered an extremely complicated problem. It is too vast and too chaotic, leaving you unable to act.”

“You don’t know how long solving it will take, so you are unwilling to ‘waste time’ here. You fear that while you remain lost and uncertain, something important will be delayed.”

Kalen: “…”

Earl rose with a smile. He bent slightly and slowly, forcefully pulled the card from Father Kalen’s hand.

Kalen looked up. The sun hung directly behind Earl’s head, casting an unusually sharp shadow.

Perhaps it was because of the posture, but although Earl was neither as tall nor as broad as Father Kalen, he gave off a strange sense of pressure.

Earl waved the Ouroboros card.

“Am I wrong?”

“A loved one of mine has gone missing,” Father Kalen said concisely, lowering his eyes. “The information I have is indeed somewhat chaotic, but I don’t wish to discuss it.”

Hermit’s irregular letter from V.O.R. Hermit’s strange instruction to “find the journal.” The mysterious religion called the Order of Shadows that Hermit had brought him into.

Without those fragmented and uncanny clues, Kalen should currently have been devoting himself entirely to finding his missing brother.

Instead, they had forced him to focus on V.O.R, which in turn had led him to notice the abnormalities within the Order of Shadows…

Kalen truly was confused.

There had even been several moments when he had begun to suspect that this was a scheme laid out by Hermit himself, guiding Kalen forward one step at a time.

He could understand “investigating V.O.R.” But what meaning did “investigating the Order of Shadows” hold for them?

Father Kalen couldn’t understand. For now, he could only follow Salaar’s arrangements and take things one step at a time.

“…I see. You don’t want to discuss it in detail.”

Earl showed no anger at his attitude. Instead, he smiled.

“Then I can only give you a very vague hint.”

“Long ago, people firmly believed that the sun revolved around this land. To explain the phenomena they observed, they had to invent one complicated theory after another.”

“But if this land revolves around the sun, then many phenomena have much simpler explanations.”

Kalen froze for a moment; a cold thought pierced through him.

Investigating V.O.R, traveling to the Royal Library, investigating the Order of Shadows… If the central goal was “finding Hermit,” then these matters truly were strangely disconnected.

But what if he changed the center of the circle?

He had investigated V.O.R, and as a result, he had begun traveling with Salaar and Myss.

At the Royal Library, Salaar and Myss had discovered abnormalities in the Sea of Concepts.

Investigating the Order of Shadows was, in essence, using the Order to investigate the mystery of how the “Celestial Canopy” had disappeared all those years ago.

Those fragmented clues had pinned him firmly to Myss and Salaar’s side.

“No.”

Kalen drew a deep breath and rejected the thought aloud.

It couldn’t be that.

If all of this was meant to make him follow Myss and Salaar, why would Hermit deliberately deceive him?

All Hermit had to do was ask, and Kalen would gladly have assisted Salaar. They could have traveled together from the start.

He had to be mistaken.

In the end, this was only an insignificant guess. It might explain the current circumstances, but it couldn’t explain Hermit’s attitude.

Slurp.

Earl finished the juice in his cup.

The sound startled Kalen so badly that his body jerked, finally bringing him back to his senses.

“I was only offering a hint based on the card.” Earl put down the straw and smiled at him again. “It was merely a general suggestion. Don’t take it too seriously.”

Kalen: “…Mm.”

“However.” Earl paused, then continued meaningfully, “Since your loved one has disappeared, the best way to find him quickly would be to better understand the missing person’s thoughts.”

“Oh, and since I was the one who invited you out, this meal is on me.”

Without waiting for Kalen’s response, Earl stood and went inside to pay.

Kalen silently picked up his straw and stirred the juice without realizing it.

More than half remained in the cup. Brilliant gold and blood red swirled together beneath his hand, mixing like smoke.

No matter what, he had to prioritize the imminent Eye-Opening Ceremony.

As for that absurd speculation, he would find a way to verify it after leaving the Crimson Marsh.

Not far away—

Bedsheet Archdemon: “Grr?”

“You’re asking about the ‘Ouroboros’?” Brief scratched his head and tried to remember. “I think it’s something from ancient alchemy. If you’re curious, we can ask Salaar when we get back.”

“Woo, woo… woo!”

“I know, we need to hurry and finish our work. Let’s go!”

Inside the tavern.

Earl paid the bill with a gemstone. From the corner of his eye, he looked through the window toward the flowerpot nearby. Something shifted in its shadow, then shot away with a whoosh.

The corner of his mouth curled upward as he withdrew his gaze and pretended he had seen nothing.

“Mr. Kalen, let’s go home,” he said with a smile.

---

The author has something to say:

A little divination vs divination. [dog head]

Good Kalen, bad Earl. (???

---

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

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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

---

Chapter 122: Genius Myss

Myss’s voice cracked on the shout. He hurriedly cleared his throat as if nothing had happened.

“The Eye-Opening Ceremony can choose outsiders too?”

Brief blinked his bean-like eyes. “The priest said he heard a divine prophecy. I suppose anyone in the city can be chosen.”

“Salaar fits all their requirements perfectly, so it isn’t strange that they picked him.”

“They’re still choosing a woman tonight,” Myss hissed, as if a forked tongue might flick from his mouth at any moment. “What was that Blind God’s Blessing again? The two young people get married after the Eye-Opening Ceremony…”

The thought made him extremely unhappy.

Myss found it difficult to describe the feeling. It was as if Salaar had once again reverted to the mind of a boy. Salaar was clearly still right there, yet Myss felt as though he had lost something.

With a sharp crack, Myss tore a chunk straight off the wooden edge of the bed.

Salaar stared at the missing piece. “…The Blind God’s Blessing may not be that absolute.”

Another sharp crack followed, this time from Myss whipping his head around.

“Really? …You’ve been chosen by some inexplicable Blind God. How can you be so calm?”

Then he narrowed his eyes.

“Wait. I remember now. You said the only thing you ever had relations with was a mosquito in Crimson Marsh. This ‘mosquito’ wouldn’t happen to mean—”

Salaar: “…”

Salaar answered with absolute sincerity. “It isn’t what you think. The last time I came to Crimson Marsh, I was here to collect the mages willing to join the army.”

Myss raked Salaar from head to toe with a suspicious gaze but said nothing more. An inexplicable pressure clogged his chest, and even his previously vigorous appetite disappeared.

Salaar coughed twice and continued questioning Brief.

“Did they mention anything else?”

“The candidates will be announced together before sunrise tomorrow. Then they’ll be taken away to bathe, dress, and have their hair arranged. At sunrise, they’ll hold the Eye-Opening Ceremony and awaken the Blind God.”

Brief tried hard to remember.

“After that, they all went to the underground church. That place is guarded really tightly. I was worried about Bedsheet, so…”

The Bedsheet Archdemon bobbed its head, making a growling sound in agreement.

“I understand completely,” Salaar said.

“I don’t,” Myss huffed. “After all, I’ve never been to the Crimson Marsh before, and I’ve never been bitten by a mosquito.”

Salaar finally failed to hold back. He smiled to himself for a moment.

“The Crimson Marsh is rather unusual…”

Mondicia had complicated terrain and was covered in ruins. Most of its territory could be considered uninhabited, while its few cities governed themselves independently.

Unlike Aufon, which emphasized royal authority, Mondicia was effectively controlled by the religion known as the Secret Garden.

The Crimson Marsh possessed the largest and most complete ruins. The Secret Garden established the nation’s largest Root Church here, which was what gave the Crimson Marsh its status as the capital.

“…So Mondicia has no royal family. The High Priest of the Secret Garden is the true ruler of this country,” Salaar explained patiently.

“That’s why the Root Church is the most heavily protected area in the entire city. It isn’t strange that Brief and Bedsheet couldn’t get inside.”

Myss didn’t care about how heavily anything was guarded.

“The High Priest? You mean the one choosing the sacrifices?”

Brief already had half his body inside the book, but he still nodded.

“Yes, him! An old man whose beard nearly drags on the ground. He said he can hear the Blind God speaking!”

At that exact moment, a knock sounded at the door.

“Mr. Salaar, Mr. Myss. We’re going out to purchase some supplies. Would you like to come?”

Hearing there was a chance to investigate Earl, Salaar stood.

“We’ll be ready in a moment.”

He instinctively cast Myss a knowing glance, only for the Archdemon to deliberately ignore it, his rear firmly glued to the edge of the bed.

“You go. I’m not going,” Myss said.

Salaar raised a brow. “Are you feeling unwell?”

“I’m not going. I’m staying in this room.” Myss spoke viciously. “I really am feeling unwell. I’m in a bad mood.”

Salaar looked at him in surprise, his brows and eyes gradually drooping. His lapis-lazuli eyes even seemed a little damp, as though Myss had locked him in a box and abandoned him outside on a rainy day.

Myss hardened his heart, yanked the blanket over, and buried his face in it.

“I said I’m not going.” Then, after struggling for two seconds, he grumbled, “But you’re not allowed to go anywhere alone. You can’t go too far. You must come back before lunch and bring me roasted meat and fruit. The meat has to be hot… You’re only going out to get food for me. If you go too far or leave me here without caring about me, that counts as violating the contract…”

Salaar sighed. “…All right, since you insist.”

He had just turned to leave when something cool suddenly landed around his neck.

Salaar instinctively grabbed it and caught Fork in his hand. Myss had just thrown Fork down the collar of his shirt.

“I’m going to monitor you the entire time!” Fork wrapped tightly around his ring finger and announced with great vigor.

Salaar sighed again. “All right.”

After thinking for a moment, he pinched Knife out of his pocket and placed it on the floor.

“Help me protect Myss.”

Knife raised its head and nodded elegantly.

……

The instant Salaar left the room, Myss sprang upright.

Knife was so startled it nearly launched itself across the room.

Myss immediately picked Knife up and wrapped it around his wrist with great solemnity. Then he strode toward the room’s only table and sat down with a serious expression.

Their room was well positioned. The interior was decorated with conspicuous tapestries and colorful tiles, all set against bright pale-yellow stonework. Under the golden sunlight, it looked as beautiful as a flower garden, completely unlike the damp forest they had passed through before.

The table stood beside a large window.

Looking outside, one could see a terrifyingly blue sky, layers of ruined brickwork, and vines and shrubs invading every available crack. The morning light was brilliant. Giant eye-shaped leaves swayed in the wind, casting shadows across Myss’s table.

Myss gave the room a cursory glance before withdrawing his gaze and focusing on a sheet of parchment.

Salaar had been selected as one sacrifice. The other candidate would most likely be some unknown human woman.

Myss hated this helpless, stifling feeling. He had to find a way to become the other sacrifice.

Salaar had to remain firmly under his control.

He didn’t know what sort of being this Blind God was, so interfering with it directly would be difficult. But manipulating that old High Priest and making him choose Myss was something he believed he could manage.

After entering the human world, he had developed quite a few little techniques.

Finding someone was easy. He could extend magical threads, trace the flow of magic, and follow it all the way to the so-called Root Church.

As Mondicia’s true leader, the High Priest was undoubtedly powerful. Myss was confident he could locate him.

The problem was what came afterward.

Once he found the man, how was he supposed to make him choose Myss?

Myss gnawed on the end of his quill.

The techniques he had learned so far could roughly be divided into magical manipulation, magical perception, and memory analysis.

This time, merely rearranging those abilities in some simple combination wouldn’t be enough. He had just learned something new, and it was time to digest it properly.

“Myss, Myss, what are you thinking about?”

Seeing that Myss was about to chew the end of the quill bald, Knife asked cautiously.

“Kendrick’s divine power.”

Myss glanced at Knife and answered casually.

“I’ve always thought that guy’s ‘spirit swapping’ looked familiar. Where did I see something like it before… hm?”

Myss looked at Knife again.

Right.

The first “body swap” he had encountered in the human world hadn’t been Kendrick’s work.

Back in the Red Amber, Salaar had transferred his consciousness into Knife.

Although Salaar and Knife hadn’t literally exchanged places, the outward form had been extremely similar.

To exchange the minds of two people, Kendric had to use divine power to connect their bodies.

Salaar and Knife also possessed a mental connection through their contract.

Myss narrowed his eyes, lightly tapping the tip of his quill against the parchment.

Almost unconsciously, he drew two circles and connected them with a line.

Was so-called “body swap” truly an exchange at all?

Even as a Chaos Archdemon, Myss couldn’t sit here and control a Dragon Fae’s right hand from a distance.

But he could control his own right hand to write. If necessary, he could also write using his left hand.

“Exchanging minds” sounded vague and insubstantial. Controlling different parts of a single whole sounded far more reasonable.

The quill tapping against the parchment stopped.

Yes.

If two connected people were treated as a single whole, a two-headed symbiotic organism…

Then Kendrick’s technique wasn’t complicated at all.

For Myss, the half of the body belonging to “Myss” had been blocked by divine power. As a result, he had naturally begun using the half belonging to “Salaar.”

For Salaar, the situation had been exactly the reverse.

In Knife’s case, Knife had chosen to sleep and surrendered full control to Salaar.

It hadn’t been “Salaar transferring into Knife’s body.”

It had been “Salaar completely controlling the entire symbiotic organism.”

In other words, if Myss learned from Kendrick and used magic to temporarily connect himself with a target, then thoroughly suppressed the other person’s mind, he could briefly control that target.

Myss separated out a magical thread thinner than spider silk. Mimicking the fluctuations of Kendrick’s divine power, he wrapped it around Knife’s body.

The next instant, Myss experienced a strange sensation.

To a certain extent, he could control Knife’s movements, as though he had grown an extra finger that didn’t listen very well.

“What’s happening, Myss? My body feels so stiff.”

Knife swayed its head in confusion.

Myss immediately withdrew his power.

Knife was already a mental extension of Salaar, so he had never expected to control it easily.

But according to this theory, if he lowered his standards somewhat…

Myss didn’t manipulate another thread. Instead, he diffused his magic until it was invisible and gathered it within a radius of ten meters around himself.

Knife was immersed in the thin magic. The connection between them was far less stable than a direct thread.

However…

“Myss?!”

Knife rubbed its eyes with the tip of its tail. Its flat little snake face somehow showed a trace of shock.

“Myss, how did you, uh, grow…”

Myss gestured vaguely in front of his chest.

“Do I look like a human woman?”

This body wasn’t particularly tall, had a slender build, and possessed delicate features.

He only needed to control the other person’s vision and create a few nonexistent characteristics to disguise himself as a beautiful and spirited human woman.

Later, he could stuff something into the front of his clothes. That would reduce how much control he needed and allow him to expand the range.

With that thought, Myss turned toward the bread tray and began selecting suitably shaped loaves.

Knife stared at him in shock for a long while before finally speaking.

“Just now… all you did was diffuse your magic, and you controlled my five senses?”

“Mm. Kendrick’s approach was pretty good.”

Myss poked at a piece of bread.

“It was much easier than I expected. You really can learn quite a lot in the human world.”

Knife was speechless.

Combined with the stiffness in its body from earlier, it quickly understood.

With Myss’s power, he could keep magic dispersed around himself all day.

Any weak ordinary person who came near him could be manipulated however he wished.

Hallucinations, false impressions, every kind of nonexistent sensation… Even mages who deliberately defended themselves would be affected to varying degrees.

If Myss made up his mind and concentrated his power on one specific target, he could even control that person’s movements freely.

Someone at Salaar’s level could resist. But anyone else…

This was genuinely terrifying.

“What are you planning to do?” Knife asked nervously, flicking its tongue.

Myss chose two pieces of bread and stuffed them into his clothes.

“Obviously, I’m going to make that old priest choose me as the sacrifice!”

After several seconds of silence, Myss added with righteous conviction,

“…We don’t know the procedure. If the sacrifices are taken away separately, I won’t be able to keep an eye on Salaar.”

With that, Myss sat down on the bed again and repeatedly practiced the magic he had just acquired.

The corners of the Archdemon’s mouth curled upward. His mood had visibly improved.

“Brief, come out and guide me. Take this magical thread and deliver it to the entrance of the underground church.”

After several hours of practice, an extremely fine magical thread condensed under Myss’s control, almost impossible to perceive.

Knife: “…”

Knife desperately wanted to imitate Salaar and sigh, gut it held itself back.

……

When Salaar returned with lunch, Knife finally let out an audible sigh.

“What?” Salaar silently mouthed, glancing at Myss, who was happily devouring skewers of meat.

“Exactly what I told you,” Knife replied in an almost inaudible voice. “Salaar, have we made the Chaos Archdemon even more… dangerous?”

Salaar silently took a bite of bread.

“I knew he learned quickly, but I didn’t expect him to learn this quickly… It’s as though he was born understanding the fundamental nature of power.”

“Can we really end the Night Scourge?” Knife asked worriedly.

Salaar didn’t harbor any delusions of heroism and believed in the resilience of the human world.  But they couldn’t exactly add new burdens for humanity to endure —the Chaos Archdemon was practically evolving!

“Shh.”

Salaar raised one finger and gently pressed it to his lips.

“Salaar…”

“If I possessed Myss’s abilities, along with the Chaos Archdemon’s enormous body, I could completely destroy the human world simply by allowing the magic-filled Night Scourge to descend once.”

Salaar spoke slowly and calmly.

“I wouldn’t need to control very much. I would only have to take away humanity’s capacity for awe. Make them ignore the abnormalities before their eyes. Make them numb to the corpses of their own kind. Make them incapable of sensing the danger of death.”

Knife stared fixedly at Salaar.

“…But Myss acquires such terrifying power only so he can use it to play.”

Salaar smiled, his gaze resting lightly on Myss’s back.

Myss was wholly focused on enjoying his roasted meat. His entire body seemed to sparkle because he had thought of a good idea, his happiness overflowing plainly for everyone to see.

“That, Knife, is where the mortal world’s hope lies.”

---

The author has something to say:

Yes, this is the canon version of “Sweet Pie”. [dog head]

The Chaos Witch (♂) returns to the stage. [okay]

---

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

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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

---

Chapter 121: The Blind God’s Blessing

Myss gave a sound of acknowledgement and plopped down on the edge of the bed.

He didn’t really care. Salaar’s explanation went in one ear much like “that wasn’t actually a Markdos goat, but a Malcolm ibex.” Either way, it was still just some goat-shaped animal passing by.

Still, since Salaar had brought it up, the Archdemon reluctantly continued the conversation.

“He said he wanted to stay. Why don’t we just sneak away without him? Why can’t we leave tonight?”

Myss hadn’t sensed the aura of a Divine Realm. If Crimson Marsh relied only on human guards, its residents wouldn’t be able to stop them.

“Besides the possibility that he really is Earl, there are three others.”

Salaar sat beside Myss and casually swept the ends of Myss’s hair onto his own lap.

“The least interesting possibility is that he’s an assassin from the Karns family in disguise. ‘Payton’ hasn’t returned home yet, so technically our trial still hasn’t ended.”

“The worst possibility is that he’s one of V.O.R’s lackeys. Our little adventure drew V.O.R’s attention, so they specifically sent someone to investigate us…”

Myss sat up a little straighter. “And the last one?”

Salaar’s deductions were usually clean and decisive. He rarely hesitated like this.

Salaar: “…Compared with us, that man seems more interested in Father Kalen. He may also be a member of the Order of Shadows.”

“All right.” Myss understood.

If he was an assassin, they could simply dispose of him. If it was either of the latter possibilities, then he was a clue delivered straight to their door.

Since they were in no hurry to leave, the Archdemon threw himself backward.

The bed boards were so hard that he cried out, immediately rolled over, and rubbed his back.

Salaar burst out laughing. “Want me to massage it for you?”

Myss instantly turned around, flopped face down across Salaar’s comparatively soft thighs, and presented his still-aching back.

He even swept his thick braid out of the way so Salaar could provide better service.

“Come to think of it, the Secret Garden didn’t exist in your era?”

Salaar gently kneaded Myss’s back. “No. At the time, Mondicia was only a geographic region. It wasn’t even a country, much less a place with a state religion.”

“Back then, the Church of Cadence was still a new religion without much reach. The Listeners of Night had far more followers. They regarded the darkness as divine punishment and believed everything was a trial from the gods. They wanted humanity to coexist with the Night Scourge.”

Salaar’s pressure was just right. Myss relaxed his body and began to feel sleepy again.

“Mm…”

Salaar smiled faintly. Myss’s chest was pressed against his legs, and he could even feel the Archdemon’s powerful heartbeat.

“I read that the Secret Garden appeared after the Night Scourge ended. Since it is fiercely hostile toward other religions, most of its emissaries are concentrated in Mondicia.”

Salaar continued unhurriedly, “The Eye-Opening Ceremony really is one of their religious rites, but it isn’t held on a fixed date. Supposedly, they wait for an oracle from the Blind God. We arrived at just the right time and happened to catch it.”

The massage felt so good that Myss shifted his shoulder further beneath Salaar’s hands.

“And about the Eye-Opening Ceremony…”

“I’ve only read brief descriptions. I don’t know the details.”

“Forget it. We’ll treat this as a vacation.” Myss made a soft sound. “The journey through the Old Lands didn’t take us very long anyway. A little rest will be nice.”

The room had been stocked with several Mondician specialties, arranged on beautiful wooden trays that could conveniently be eaten from in bed.

Myss dragged the tray in front of himself and ate while enjoying the massage.

He especially liked the meat braised in sour fruit juice and the mixed vine-tuber porridge. He also happened to need a peaceful stretch of time to study magic, so this was like being handed a pillow just as he became sleepy.

Unexpectedly, before he had even finished the bowl of sour-fruit braised meat, Father Kalen added another layer to that pillow.

“The Eye-Opening Ceremony is supposedly a very peaceful ritual.”

Before nightfall, Father Kalen came to their room.

“The Blind God’s priests select two young people as the most suitable sacrifices. During the ritual, they become the Blind God’s left and right eyes.”

“After the ceremony, the sacrifices are unharmed. The witnesses are also given a pair of golden eyeballs as the Blind God’s blessing. That’s what Earl told me.”

At this point, he scratched his head awkwardly.

“Uh, he was worried you might think he was an assassin, so he asked me to pass that along. He hopes neither of you will overthink it.”

“That’s all?” Salaar handed his portion of sour-fruit braised meat to Myss.

Myss accepted it without the slightest courtesy. “If that’s all, why did the others run away?”

“The witnesses must pray to the Blind God together with the locals. The great nobles of Serpentia are all followers of the God of Cadence, so they can’t accept such behavior.”

Father Kalen honestly added, “Mm, according to Earl, what they really can’t accept is being seen doing it by people they know.”

‘That made the yellow-eyed man’s desire to stay seem reasonable,’ Myss thought.

Among those remaining, the only supposed “great noble” was Salaar. And “Kendrick” had such a terrible reputation that even if Salaar spread word everywhere that Earl had bowed to the Blind God, no one would believe him.

Salaar had clearly reached a similar conclusion. His tone relaxed somewhat.

“Is there anything else we should know?”

“I don’t think so. Oh, before I came here, I performed a divination. There’s no ominous aura here… Ah!”

The priest suddenly wore the expression of someone who had forgotten something extremely important. He cleared his throat solemnly.

Salaar stopped massaging Myss, and Myss held his breath as well.

“Right, right. Apparently, the two young people chosen by the priests always marry after the Eye-Opening Ceremony and live happily together for the rest of their lives.”

The priest said gravely, “The locals call this the Blind God’s Blessing, because ‘love is blind.’”

Myss and Salaar: “……”

After experiencing so many bizarre Divine Realms, the Eye-Opening Ceremony sounded almost heartwarming.

The Blind God’s Blessing…

Myss instinctively looked at Salaar, only to discover that Salaar was already staring directly at him.

Afraid Salaar might misunderstand, Myss hurriedly turned away. Salaar shifted at nearly the same moment and seemed to turn his head aside too.

What would happen if the two of them took part?

Yes, he was merely curious about the scope of the Blind God’s power.

Myss secretly let his gaze drift back over, only to collide with Salaar’s eyes again. This time, both of them felt a touch of awkwardness. One looked up at the ceiling, while the other stared at the floor.

“What kind of people are chosen as sacrifices?” Salaar asked the wooden floor.

Father Kalen, who had witnessed everything: “……”

Father Kalen: “Usually, the most beautiful young man and woman are selected. But if the two of you want to participate that badly, I could go ask…”

“No need!” Myss and Salaar shouted in unison.

The priest looked at them dubiously for a while.

“Uh, then rest well. Good night.”

Wearing an expression of subtle helplessness, he gently closed the door.

Myss suddenly felt as though Salaar’s thighs had grown thorns. He sat up uncomfortably and crossed his legs beside Salaar.

“I was only curious about the general content of the ritual. That crow priest completely missed the important part.”

“Indeed,” Salaar said dryly.

Knife poked its head out of Salaar’s pocket. “Do you need us to investigate?”

It had been forced to miss the previous adventure and had even made Fork stay behind to look after it. The little snake sounded both guilty and eager.

“I’m not going. I want to rest!” Fork crawled out of Myss’s braid. “The two of them aren’t going to get killed by some mere Blind God, so what’s the rush?”

Knife flicked its tongue dejectedly and fell silent.

Salaar squeezed Knife’s soft little head. “Rest. I need my weapon to remain close to me.”

Hearing that, Myss suddenly had an idea.

He rummaged through their luggage, pulled out “Brave Salaar”, and rapped his knuckles against the hard cover as if knocking on a door.

“What is it?”

After a moment, Brief pushed the pages open and looked at them curiously.

He had two hair clips pinned into his blond hair, his sleeves rolled high, and pencil-like smudges on his face, as though he had just crawled out of a mine.

“Woo woo?” Bedsheet Archdemon mimicked Brief’s tone and poked its head out behind him.

Myss gave them a serious command.

“We’ve arrived somewhere new and need your help investigating. Go see what the Blind God’s priests are doing. Don’t let anyone discover you.”

“Wow, a new adventure!”

Literal stars appeared in Brief’s blue eyes. “Leave it to us. No one can possibly discover me and Bedsheet!”

“Woo woo!” Bedsheet Archdemon expertly rolled Brief up and placed him on its back.

The Crimson Marsh’s buildings were already brightly colored and drawn in broad, rough lines. The two little stick figures practically came with natural camouflage and blended into the wall paintings within moments.

They struck heroic poses and were just about to charge forward when they awkwardly floated back again.

Brief asked, “Where do we find the Blind God’s priests? I’ve never even heard of the Blind God.”

Myss rolled his eyes thoughtfully and said in a profound voice, “That’s part of the adventure.”

Brief took a deep breath, hugged Bedsheet Archdemon again, and resumed his pose.

“Bedsheet, let’s go!”

With joyful cheer, the two of them shot through the crack in the window and vanished into the night.

“My, how useful.” Myss looked deeply satisfied.

“Aren’t you afraid something might happen to them?” Salaar asked curiously. “If they get into trouble, you won’t be able to study the magic of the Sea of Concepts anymore.”

“Brief may be an idiot, but he isn’t stupid. Bedsheet Archdemon is the same.”

Myss crossed his arms confidently. “They care about each other so much that they would never recklessly endanger one another. Didn’t you realize that too? Isn’t that why you didn’t stop me?”

Salaar smiled. “I just didn’t expect you to have such a… humanly considerate line of thought.”

“Humanly considerate? Hardly.” Myss scoffed. “Because if it were me, I would also…”

Halfway through, he abruptly swallowed the rest and nearly bit his tongue.

“You would also?” Salaar’s brows climbed higher and higher.

“Because I’m an extraordinary genius,” Myss replied stiffly. “I can understand their simple little minds at a glance.”

“That isn’t what you just said. You said, ‘If it were me, I would also…’”

“Shut up.”

Myss grabbed the tray from the bed and stuffed several chunks of sour-fruit braised meat into Salaar’s mouth.

The next day.

Before dawn, Bedsheet Archdemon flew back happily with an extra flower petal sitting atop its head.

“This year’s male sacrifice has been chosen. It’s Salaar!” Brief announced. “According to those people, the male sacrifice, the god’s left eye, is always a handsome young man with dark hair and a beautiful build.”

“They haven’t chosen the woman yet. They said they have to wait for tonight’s oracle…”

The last traces of Myss’s drowsiness instantly vanished.

“What?” he cried, his voice cracking slightly.

---

The author has something to say:

Myss: Blind God, would you like to reconsider before I slap you to death with one paw? [cat paw]

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