Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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

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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. (???

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

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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

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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]

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

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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

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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]

---

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

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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

---

Chapter 120: The Eye-Opening Ceremony

Myss found a tall tree root to sit on. He swung his legs as he enjoyed the soup in his bowl. From this angle, he could also happily look down at Salaar, who was sitting on the ground.

Less than five minutes later, Father Kalen really did return carrying someone on his back.

The man was covered from head to toe in mud. The mud on his face was gradually drying and cracking, flaking away in small pieces. He had slightly curly dark gray hair and brownish-yellow eyes the color of cheddar cheese. His build wasn’t as sturdy as Salaar’s, but it was respectable enough, much better than a pampered young master like Owen.

“Well, it really is Earl Nebula.”

Tass brushed a clump of mud from the young man’s head. “This kid is pretty capable. He may not compare to Ken—er, cough—Payton, but he’s still one of the best of his generation.”

Father Kalen removed his thick priest’s coat and draped it around the shivering Earl. He also handed him a waterskin filled with honey herbal tea. Kendrick ladled out a small bowl of warm soup and had Earl hold it in both hands.

The soup contained plenty of cheese, salty bacon, and dried herbs, along with pieces of hard bread soaked in the broth. It was perfect for restoring energy.

“Thank you.”

After breathing in the rich smell of fat for a while, Earl finally came back to his senses. He drained the herbal tea in one go and licked the blood from his cracked lips.

Kendrick instinctively glanced at Salaar. Only after confirming that Salaar had no intention of speaking did he continue.

“Mr. Nebula, what exactly happened?”

“Last night, my assistant and I lost our way while on patrol and were attacked by an alchemical monster.”

Earl smiled wearily. “I passed out in the bushes. When I woke up, my whole body felt as though a carriage had run me over and broken every bone. If I hadn’t happened to encounter all of you, I might have died here.”

A trace of worry appeared on his face.

“I wonder how Adair is doing. He’s my assistant, by the way. A rather large fellow.”

“We only found you,” Kendrick said. “There were no signs nearby of any other human being attacked, so he’s probably all right.”

The priest paused. “Won’t they come looking for Mr. Earl? Perhaps we should wait here for a while.”

Earl grinned and shook his head. “They’ll prioritize escorting everyone else to safety inside the city, then come back to search for me. We agreed on that before taking part.”

Kendrick nodded calmly. “We happen to be heading to the Crimson Marsh district. If your assistant is safe, he should return either to the camp or to the city. You can confirm it then.”

Earl nodded gratefully.

Myss watched this farce with little interest. He only wanted to reach Crimson Marsh as soon as possible and get rid of these troublesome outsiders.

Kendrick was tolerable, but with Owen and Earl around, he couldn’t even amuse himself with Salaar.

Fortunately, they were already close to the Crimson Marsh. Five hours after sunrise, Myss saw the city gates.

The Crimson Marsh was a far cry from the “large cities” he remembered.

At first glance, it looked like an enormous complex of ruins.

People had repaired and settled upon the collapsed remains of an ancient city. Neatly cut stone bricks were piled together with weathered, flaking rubble, and moss appeared in scattered patches. Torn pieces of cloth fluttered from wooden poles, covered in brightly colored mildew, like an oil painting ruined by a palette knife.

The locals also dressed in a rather peculiar fashion.

Their clothes were unusually loose and revealing, embroidered with magical runes that resisted dampness and moisture. The hems were studded with gemstone fragments used as energy sources.

Regardless of gender, everyone wore at least two necklaces made from plants. Fine chains pierced brightly colored fruits and flowers, making them even more vivid and extravagant than the jewels worn by noblewomen in Serpentia. Their wrists and ankles were encircled by strongly scented aromatic wood. The rings radiated intense warmth, surrounding each person with a warm breeze like amniotic fluid.

‘No wonder there were no Dragon Faes here,’ Myss thought.

The gemstone fragments on their clothing were all consumable items, while the people of Crimson Marsh preferred “natural” ornaments that would eventually decay.

The Dragon Fae raised both tiny hands and covered his eyes with a slap, clearly holding strong objections to this particular aesthetic.

Even more strangely, Myss discovered that everyone here looked remarkably the same.

The men of Crimson Marsh generally had dark hair and smooth, hard lines of muscle. The women were the exact opposite. Their hair was pale, though their bodies were equally athletic and full of strength.

As for their faces, perhaps because they were closely related as a racial linage, they looked as though they had all been carved from the same mold.

“Everyone, please pay close attention to your words and behavior.”

Before entering the city, Kendrick assumed Payton’s demeanor and gave them a convincing warning.

“The state religion of Mondicia is the Secret Garden. These people are orthodox Emissaries of the Secret Garden, and they are extremely hostile toward followers of other religions. However, as long as you don’t deliberately emphasize your faith, the Emissaries are quite friendly.”

Myss didn’t care. Neither he nor Salaar had any faith.

Father Kalen, however, drew in a sharp breath and adjusted his priest’s coat uncomfortably.

“…What I mean is, you had better take it off before we enter the city.”

Kendrick turned directly toward Kalen.

The priest blinked his watery blue eyes, looking completely innocent. “But I don’t have any other clothes…”

Kalen owned only two changes of clothing, both priestly robes. Worse still, his build was too large for anyone else’s clothes.

“Just take off the upper half,” Kendrick said.

Seeing everyone, especially Owen, become increasingly restless, Father Kalen ultimately compromised. With a helpless expression, he removed the upper part of his clerical clothing, revealing his solid chest.

Among the neatly dressed group, Father Kalen looked rather desolate.

“Wear this. I still have an outer robe.”

Earl spoke suddenly. He efficiently unfastened his robe and removed the loose inner shirt beneath it.

“This is…”

“My assistant has a large build too. These are his clothes.”

Earl handed the loose white shirt to the priest. “The Nebula family’s underclothes are too complicated to put on and take off, so they aren’t suitable for fieldwork. Sometimes, for convenience, I borrow my assistant’s shirts.”

Seeing that the priest was still hesitating, Earl smiled.

“You lent me your coat before. Consider this my return gift.”

Only then did Father Kalen accept the shirt and quickly pull it on.

To be honest, it still didn’t fit very well. What had originally been a loose inner shirt became a tight-fitting garment, stretched taut over his chest and shoulders. Fortunately, it looked acceptable overall and wasn’t excessively out of place.

Kendrick’s gaze swept over every person.

After confirming that no one displayed any religious symbols, he nodded and resumed walking.

Salaar’s gaze silently passed over Earl, lingering only for a fleeting moment.

……

Entry into the city was remarkably relaxed.

Perhaps too few outsiders were willing to visit, because the guards at the gate couldn’t even be bothered to check their identities. The two guards didn’t speak to them at all, though they did cast a few extra glances at Myss.

Everything inside the city appeared much more ordinary.

Myss could still see shops selling miscellaneous goods and stalls piled high with roasted meat and bread. There was also an inn nearby. The ruins supporting it were relatively intact, and the owner had clearly put effort into covering the walls with colorful mosaic tiles, eliminating the awkward mixture of old and new.

A hint of urgency appeared on Earl’s face.

“This is the inn we agreed on. Judging by the time, they must still be here.”

However…

“Yes, there were outsiders here. But they left this morning.”

That was the inn employee’s answer to Earl’s anxious questions.

“And no, they didn’t leave any message.”

Earl looked incredulous. “How is that possible?”

Even Tass hissed in surprise. “I can understand the Karns family’s teleportation going wrong and leaving without waiting for us, but the Nebula family isn’t some insignificant household. They just abandoned someone?”

Earl was silent for several seconds. He rummaged through his pocket and pulled out a short piece of charcoal.

He grabbed a sheet of parchment and, with a few quick strokes, sketched a young man carrying a massive hammer.

Myss leaned over to look. The man’s skill was nowhere near Salaar’s, but the drawing was concise, vivid, and showed the subject’s distinguishing features clearly.

Judging by the physique of the person in the portrait, it was probably Earl’s missing assistant.

“Have you seen this man?”

Earl turned the parchment around and pushed the portrait toward the employee.

“Oh, yes. He even argued with someone at the entrance.”

The burly male employee shrugged. “He looked anxious too. He kept saying someone was missing and they couldn’t just leave. He had a heavy Aufon accent, so I could only understand the general idea.”

Earl bent over in relief and rubbed his face hard with both hands.

“Praise Rhythm…”

The employee’s gaze snapped toward him like a blade.

“…Praise this colorful and diverse world,” Earl corrected himself urgently.

“It seems Mr. Adair is safe.”

Salaar joined the conversation with a pleasant smile.

“Still, judging by the timing, they had only just entered the city and couldn’t have rested at the inn for more than two hours. Why were they in such a hurry?”

The employee gave them a warm smile.

“Regrettably, those outsiders didn’t wish to attend our festival. If I remember correctly, there are still two departure slots left.”

“Once those slots are filled, everyone remaining will become guests of the Blind God. No one may leave until the festival is over.”

A sudden, inexplicable chill ran through Myss.

He straightened, frowning.

“You mean that even if we turn around and leave immediately, only two more people will be allowed out?”

“The Eye-Opening Ceremony requires a sufficient number of witnesses,” the employee said as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

“I want to leave!”

Owen spoke almost immediately.

“I’m in the worst condition. Staying here would only hold all of you back.”

For once, Salaar agreed. “True. In that case, you and Mr. Earl should leave together. We’ll remain behind for now.”

“No, I’ll stay.”

To Myss’s surprise, the next person to speak was Earl.

“I’m rather curious about this Eye-Opening Ceremony. My assistant is safe anyway, so I’m in no hurry to return to the city.”

Since Earl did not want to leave, their options became limited.

Salaar and Myss instinctively exchanged a glance, then looked at Kendrick in unison.

Kendrick understood immediately. More accurately, he was delighted to send his brother’s body back home.

“How about this? I’ll take Owen and leave first. I can also inform the Nebula family about Mr. Earl’s situation. Everyone, please take care.”

The moment Kendrick dragged Owen out of the inn, Myss could no longer restrain himself. He leaned over and whispered into Salaar’s ear.

“What is the Eye-Opening Ceremony?”

“They didn’t have anything like that in my time,” Salaar whispered back.

The Dragon Fae squeezed between their shoulders and whispered as well.

“I’ve heard it’s an annual sacrificial rite of the Secret Garden.”

The priest took two steps closer and joined the cluster, lowering his voice.

“Really? I’ve never heard of it.”

Myss was half hanging off Salaar, the Dragon Fae was wedged between them, and the priest formed the outermost layer. The four of them looked as though they had been fitted together.

They studied one another solemnly, each face showing a different degree of desire to flee.

Earl stared at them speechlessly for a while, then turned to the employee.

“One shared room, please. Make sure it faces the street, and prepare some hot food.”

He took out a small pouch of gemstones, selected several pieces, then separated out one ruby.

“This is your tip.”

“No problem!”

The employee’s expression became even more cheerful.

He picked up the ruby between his fingers and casually embedded it into his clothing.

Under the bright light, the ruby gleamed brilliantly.

However, the swaying red glow couldn’t compare to the light flashing in Myss’s eyes.

“Once night falls, let’s just leave,” he sincerely proposed to Salaar.

They could eat and drink their fill here, rest for a while, then head straight for Atla.

After all, neither the priest nor the Dragon Fae knew anything about this so-called Eye-Opening Ceremony. There was no reason for them to deal with such an unknown nuisance.

So what if some Blind God of the Secret Garden refused to let them leave?

He was a genuine Chaos Archdemon. Since when did juniors get to order their elders around?

Salaar gave no clear answer. He arranged the bedding with exaggerated seriousness while speaking in a casual, conversational tone.

“Mr. Earl, you don’t seem to dislike me at all.”

Earl paused mid-peel as he opened a banana. “Since that Payton acknowledged you, I have no reason to target you, Mr. Kendrick.”

“It would be wonderful if everyone in Serpentia were as open-minded as you.”

Salaar smiled and effortlessly changed the subject.

“Oh, and as brave too. You were attacked by an alchemical monster only last night, your body is still weak, yet today you are willing to remain in this dangerous place for the ceremony, even without a single companion beside you.”

Myss looked at Salaar curiously.

That irritating, sarcastic tone of his was remarkably similar to the real Kendrick.

Earl raised an eyebrow. “What exactly are you implying?”

“Nothing in particular. I simply find your behavior somewhat unnatural.”

Salaar smiled.

“Please forgive me. The Karns family hunted me for quite a long time, and I haven’t yet overcome my habit of suspecting everyone.”

Father Kalen and the Dragon Fae also turned to look at Earl.

“You may suspect whatever you like. I have no obligation to prove anything to you.”

Earl spread his hands.

“I simply possess a little more adventurous spirit than most people. If my presence makes you uncomfortable, I can rent another room.”

The air grew increasingly tense.

Father Kalen touched the inner shirt he was still wearing and shifted uneasily.

“It wouldn’t be good for Mr. Earl to stay alone. I’ll share a room with him. That way, we won’t disturb the two of you.”

“Whatever,” Salaar said indifferently.

Whatever, my ass, Myss thought. He suspected that Salaar had deliberately tried to make Earl move out.

“Great. Now the priest is staying with him, so we can’t even discuss our plan to leave the city.”

Myss jabbed Salaar in the waist.

Salaar gently shook his head and casually smoothed the hair at Myss’s temple.

“We’re not leaving today.”

“Why?”

“…”

Salaar fell silent for a moment, his gaze darkening.

“I suspect that person isn’t Earl Nebula.”

---

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

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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

---

Chapter 119: A Cry for Help

Myss was delighted.

Last time, Salaar had helped him deal with it once. Although the experience had been quite good, Myss hadn’t been very pleased about being entirely wrapped in his enemy’s arms. This time, he absolutely had to take the chance to retaliate.

Lord Archdemon copied Salaar’s movements and sat behind him. Worried that his legs would be crushed, he refused to let Salaar sit on his lap, so he could only lean his body crookedly with great reluctance.

Facing Hero Salaar’s solid back, Myss’s field of vision was blocked miserably.

In the end, Myss gestured for quite a while, then unconvinced, reached around Salaar’s waist and groped forward wildly. Unfortunately, Salaar’s solid physique got in the way, making it very difficult for him to hold on. Exerting strength was awkward too. It felt exactly like fishing for a ball inside a pitch-black cave.

How could Kendrick have given up this body so easily?

Myss wrapped his arms around Salaar’s waist and abdomen, rubbing around at random. Never had he missed his tentacles so much.

Salaar held his breath as he was fondled, his neck flushing red from restraint. After a minute had passed, Salaar finally choked out a few words. “Are you trying to pick a fight?”

His tone didn’t sound like a provocation. It came entirely from the heart.

“Who told you to be this big?” Myss worked hard to crane around behind him, his claws still struggling to paw about.

Salaar caught one waving hand and dragged him along with the motion. Myss was easily pulled in front of him, landing perfectly on the thin blanket.

The tent was dark, but the distance was close. This time, Myss could finally see clearly, and what he saw made him rather uncomfortable, to the point that he forgot to protest about being dragged over.

Forget it. What they needed to do was the same anyway.

It was only playing with Salaar’s human tentacle. No big deal. Myss shifted his body and stretched out his hand with determination.

“Hiss!” Salaar gasped in pain.

“You weren’t this fragile before.” Myss’s hand kept moving, though he couldn’t resist a taunt.

Salaar: “But your technique really is terrible.”

“What?” Myss immediately felt a burst of anger. What did that mean? Was Salaar saying his skills were lacking?

He immediately concentrated, wholeheartedly imitating Salaar’s method from before. Unfortunately, their palm sizes and physical builds made it a struggle for Myss to replicate the movements. 

Salaar, however, quieted down. His breathing was unusually hurried, and fine beads of sweat emerged on his forehead. His eyes remained fixed firmly on Myss’s face as they always did.

Myss pursed his lips slightly, his brows furrowed, his expression extraordinarily focused, as if this were some momentous duel.

Those garnet-like eyes reflected scattered light. His ash-gray long hair had long since spread loose, falling along Myss’s back and shoulders. In the darkness, it connected into a sheet, swaying lightly with Myss’s movements, like a king’s cloak.

For the first time in his life, Salaar discovered that darkness wasn’t cold.

The darkness at this moment wrapped them lightly like a down quilt, and the air became increasingly thick and heated. In a daze, Salaar felt a strange sense of liberation.

In the depths of this darkness, in this secret corner, he could briefly forget that fate which would one day arrive.

The flow of time became ambiguous, until Myss suddenly spoke.

“It’s almost been an hour. Is there something wrong with you?” Lord Archdemon painfully glanced at his wrist.

Previously, Myss had suspected that Salaar didn’t have reproductive functions. Now, he deeply suspected that Salaar’s reproductive functions were simply broken. He didn’t react when frightened, and after Myss had “helped” for this long, that damned human tentacle still hadn’t changed.

At first, Myss had still intended to torment Salaar. Now his head was completely blank, and he only felt like he was running a long-distance race with both hands.

If not for the fact that he didn’t want to admit defeat, he was so tired he almost wanted to snap the thing off and be done with it.

Myss condemned Salaar with his eyes, but seeing the other man look as if he were wounded, Myss also felt an inexplicable delight.

How interesting. Whether he brought Salaar a moment of pleasure or a wound deep enough to see bone, Salaar’s reaction was practically the same. Perhaps Salaar hadn’t lied to him. Falling in love with an enemy truly would bring him deep pain.

Just then, Salaar tilted his head slightly, his face stopping extremely close to Myss.

He made a motion as if asking for a kiss, but didn’t immediately close the gap, as though it were an invitation.

Myss gladly accepted and kissed him with unusual force. He was one to never deny himself pleasure.

Salaar’s head, however, kept tilting. His lips moved from Myss’s lips to the corner of his mouth, then his chin, then his neck. Without Myss noticing, one hand covered Myss’s sore and aching hand, the heat of his palm scalding Myss enough to startle him.

After a few minutes of entanglement, this “help” with ulterior motives finally ended.

Salaar proactively cast a cleansing, while Myss let out a gruff sound and slumped against him. Hero Salaar caught his limp enemy and casually patted him.

“Myss.”

“Mm?”

“Myss.”

“…Mm…”

“If we spent another three hundred years investigating the truth behind the body swap, what would you think?”

“As long as nothing happens to my original body… that would be fine…” Myss smacked his lips.

Salaar chuckled softly, his fingertips slipping into Myss’s warm long hair.

Myss stretched lazily on him, his muscles trembling lightly, the feeling unusually real.

“What about three thousand years?” Salaar asked again.

“By then, you’ll have died long ago. At most, there’ll only be a few bones left.” Myss huffed and twisted his body so he could hang on Salaar in a more comfortable posture.

“That V.O.R won’t live that long either. By then, everything will be over. I’ll definitely win.”

“Really?”

Salaar breathed warm air into Myss’s ear.

“V.O.R and Its possible forces used Abnormal Fruit to steal your power and create new gods while you were completely unaware.”

“What we have discovered so far is only the surface. What if they already have successful cases? …By then, I won’t be the only one capable of hurting you. You’re unfamiliar with the human world. Can you truly defend against them?”

“…”

That was indeed the case, Myss thought.

The Abnormal Fruits they had discovered before were a little like leeches clinging to him and sucking blood. If there were too many leeches, who knew what problems they might suck out of him? He was at a critical stage of growth!

With a Salaar who had gathered countless human memories, who was nearly all-knowing, by his side, the investigation would definitely be much easier… Hm?

“You want me to shift the focus of the investigation to V.O.R instead of returning.”

Myss wrinkled his face. “You’re even tempting me to deepen our cooperation… Seriously, if V.O.R’s methods can really kill me, shouldn’t you be happy?”

Salaar laughed, his chest trembling lightly and making Myss feel a little ticklish.

“A person can drag out an ignoble existence, but humanity cannot.”

He buried his face in Myss’s loose inner garment. “The human world being unable to endure the Night Scourge doesn’t mean humans must wag their tails at some other unknown existence. Moreover, V.O.R clearly treats human lives and human hearts as toys.”

“So It is our common adversary.” Salaar carefully stroked Myss’s spine, his tone growing softer.

Hm. “Our common adversary” sounded much better than “my other enemy.” They were the eternal enemies. V.O.R was just a blind stumbling block.

Myss’s head floated a little from Salaar’s stroking and felt that Salaar’s words made quite some sense.

At present, Kendrick’s summoning seemed to have been merely an accident. Even Kendrick himself didn’t know what had happened. He had only followed V.O.R’s introductions and communicated with those pen pals whose heads had problems. The accident during the living sacrifice didn’t seem to have involved V.O.R’s intervention.

At this point, their investigation into V.O.R should have been set aside.

But whether it was their inexplicable body-swap ritual or the strange missing portion in the Sea of Concepts, both had an indistinct connection to V.O.R. Not to mention those delicious Abnormal Fruits.

Previously, pursuing V.O.R had only been the pretense for their cooperation with Father Kalen, a branch line in solving the mystery of the body swap. Now, “getting rid of V.O.R” could become their highest priority.

“…All right, I agree. In any case, the contract is still in effect.”

Myss mumbled indistinctly, “I’ll study the body-swap magic myself. The investigation focus will be V.O.R first. What are your plans next, mm?”

“Investigate the Order of Shadows.”

Myss curled his lip. “Since when did you care this much about Kalon?”

“There are truly too many abnormalities surrounding Father Kalen. Compared to those we encountered before, Kendrick counts as a relatively complete ‘god.’ Yet even he couldn’t shake the priest’s spirit.”

“The Order of Shadows has always done… what the priest claims they have always done, and no matter how you look at it, they are opposing V.O.R. Now this Order of Shadows is also tangled up with the disappeared Celestial Canopy. Are you not curious?”

In truth, Myss wasn’t that interested in the Celestial Canopy or the Order of Shadows, but he truly did care about the priest’s unusual constitution.

A divine power that even he couldn’t withstand was actually ineffective against the priest. He couldn’t get past this in his heart.

“Then let’s investigate it.” Myss said deeply. “That guy happens to be very lost right now. I suspect if things continue like this, he’ll part ways with us.”

Salaar kissed the tip of Myss’s nose. “Then it’s settled.”

Myss yawned, treating that as agreement.

The memories after that were blurry. It seemed he directly fell asleep hanging on Salaar.

……

The next morning.

The moment Myss had just emerged from the tent, he was covered by a rather remarkable shadow. Father Kalen stood stiffly at the entrance of their tent, his face uglier than the muddy sludge in the swamp.

Seeing Myss, whose hair had been combed until it was glossy and smooth and whose face looked utterly at ease, the priest awkwardly rubbed his hands. “I… uh, well… actually…”

“The two of us want to ask for leave.”

The pitch-black Tass crouched on Kalen’s shoulder, his expression just as listless.

“We, cough, roughly believe Salaar’s words. He is that remarkable Saint Salaar, and you are his lover, comrade, or whatever else… In short, the two of you are perfectly capable of investigating V.O.R on your own.”

“But Kalen’s head is a mess right now. The situation with the Order of Shadows is too strange, and he wants to sort through his thoughts. Coincidentally, I also want to take sick leave and look at these wings of mine. We might as well go together.”

Tass sadly stroked his black wings. “Of course, this doesn’t mean we are parting ways with you two. We just don’t want to delay you because of personal matters.”

“We are preparing to investigate the Order of Shadows.”

Myss shrugged.

Father Kalen’s eyes lit up all at once, and even his whole body snapped upright. “Really?”

“Oh, our Great Hero is more willful than you imagine.” Myss rattled off the snide remark quickly. “Since the Order of Shadows is related to the Celestial Canopy, and the clues on V.O.R’s side are unclear, we aren’t in a rush. There’s nothing wrong with looking into it.”

Seeing Father Kalen’s excited expression, he added, “After all, Kalin is very useful to us.”

“What he means is that Father Kalen has helped us a great deal,” Salaar said, also emerging from the tent, his complexion looking refreshed.

The Dragon Fae happily patted Kalen twice, then froze in midair. “Th-then what about my wings?”

“The Crimson Marsh is the capital of a national country, so there must be jewelry stores too. Are your kind only in Serpentis?” Salaar asked.

“Actually, there are more in Evening Star City,” Tass said. “The temperature over in Atla suits us better. Then comes Serpentis. The Crimson Marsh is too wet and cold, so there are basically no Dragon Faes there.”

“That works out. Father Kalen is from Atla. We’ll go to Atla to investigate the Order of Shadows, then after investigating, stop by Evening Star City… How does that sound?” Salaar rubbed his chin.

Tass frowned.

Deep down, he felt that this change wasn’t fatal. So far, only the color of his scales had changed. His body had no discomfort, and his stamina hadn’t worsened… Rather, his reaction speed and physical strength had improved instead.

But was it really fine to just keep dragging it out?

Myss glanced at him. “Fine, we’ll go to Atla. In any case, it’s not like you can get any more black.”

Tass: “…”

Tass: “How did you end up as Saint Salaar’s comapnion?”

“Because I’m not his companion.” Myss snarled.

The Dragon Fae rolled his eyes. “I know you two are burning with passion, but you don’t have to emphasize it at a time like this.”

Myss: “?”

Salaar hurriedly coughed twice. “Since there are more Dragon Faes in Evening Star City, the information there should be more accurate. Also, I’m very skilled at healing magic, so I can treat you in time.”

“If you go to Serpentis alone and fail to find a solution, you might end up wasting even more time.”

Tass thought for a moment and let out a long sigh. “Then let’s do that.”

Not until the priest had boiled the hot soup did Kendrick drag the newly awakened Owen out of the tent.

Owen’s eyes were blank. Myss wasn’t sure whether that was a lingering aftereffect of spiritual magic or the result of Owen’s own intelligence. In any case, this person sat down by the campfire and stared dazedly at the soup.

Kendrick nodded to everyone, very skillfully ladled a bowl of soup, and stuffed it into Owen’s hands. That gentle appearance didn’t look like Kendrick at all.

Kendrick ladled another bowl of soup and wiped the ladle on the edge of the pot. “Today, we…”

“Help…”

The bushes shook, and a young, hoarse voice came from not far away.

“…Who?” Kendrick neatly dropped the ladle and drew his short whip wand.

“Help…!”

Hearing a response, that voice suddenly rose several degrees. “I am Earl Nebra… save me… the Nebra family will definitely reward you heavily…”

“Earl Nebra, one of the great nobles participating in the Journey to the Old Lands.”

Kendrick explained concisely, not lowering his whip. “I’ll go take a look.”

Myss indifferently sipped his salted meat soup, watching Kendrick step toward the bushes.

Just a minor interlude, that was all. Nothing unusual.

“I’ll go too. I can carry someone faster.” Father Kalen stood up.

Not far away.

The bushes, untouched by the morning light, appeared blurred and murky. In the shadow of the trees, one human eye stared fixedly at everyone.

---

The author has something to say:

Our Great Hero is blowing pillow talk right into his ear. [doge]

Just a little game between the young couple…! [cat paw]

---

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

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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

---

Chapter 118: Another Night Attack

Salaar reached out his thumb and rubbed the blood on Myss’s face. Myss was still seeing stars from the magical aftereffects, so he could only manage a soft, indistinct sound. The blood hadn’t stopped, and a few more drops fell onto Salaar’s open chest.

Myss dizzily propped himself against Salaar’s chest, using his palm to wipe at the blood that had dripped down. How infuriating. Salaar could solve the problem with one cleansing spell, yet Salaar simply refused to act.

His fingertips rubbed the warm blood, his thumb slowly tracing past the corner of Myss’s lips. The sweet metallic scent of blood mixed with damp, hot breathing. Myss’s head felt somewhat dizzy, so he simply let the weight of his head press into Salaar’s palm.

As that heavy weight leaned over, Salaar’s brows and eyes shifted slightly.

“Don’t misunderstand.” Myss licked the blood from his lips and mumbled indistinctly, “This is all magical side effects… Spiritual magic is seriously difficult…”

The thought that the one he was pressed against was the Salaar he was familiar with made Myss’s entire body feel stretched out with comfort.

It was a little cold outside, but Salaar was warm all over. Myss lay on top of Salaar and lazily shifted his body. A sense of security was like a heavy lead weight, dragging his consciousness toward the abyss of sleep.

To avoid accidentally falling asleep, Myss continued mumbling, “Don’t get too smug… If Kendrick hadn’t interrupted this time, I definitely could have found a way to break the seal…”

The corner of Salaar’s mouth tugged. “I know. And I also know you saw quite a few things just now.”

Hearing his enemy’s praise, Myss perked up a bit.

He tried to prop his head up and show off to Salaar, whose underpants had been half stripped off. But the moment his neck had just tensed, a warm hand clasped the back of it.

Myss subconsciously reached out to block, and one hand pressed against Salaar’s throat. Salaar, however, didn’t struggle. Those lapis-lazuli eyes shone brightly in the darkness.

One of them wanted to pull closer, the other wanted to push farther away. In the end, they maintained a distance at which they had no choice but to share each other’s breath, as if they were carrying out a long kiss without touching.

Only when soft golden light pierced through his eyelids did Myss belatedly realize that his nosebleed had stopped at some point, and his headache had eased considerably.

The bloodstains hadn’t vanished. Salaar’s hand gently stroked his cheek.

For an instant, Myss’s head was like a boiling pot of cream soup, one bubble after another rising up.

He wanted to ask Salaar why he hadn’t cleaned up the blood while he was at it. He wanted to ask Salaar why he had no sense of danger. He wanted to ask… wanted to ask why Salaar didn’t hate him.

Even if it had only been a fleeting glance, Myss had seen too many tragedies from the Night Scourge.

Although those memory fragments belonged to other people, even someone as slow as Myss could understand that the pain was enough to crush any human being. It wasn’t something that could be handled simply by “filtering emotions.”

To be honest, he shouldn’t have cared about these things. Salaar hating him was only natural and proper. Yet Salaar spoke with killing intent and love at the same time, and Myss couldn’t understand.

…And he wanted to understand.

“You have the memories of many Celestial Canopy members. That machine is used to extract memories, right?”

Amid the rich smell of blood, he licked his cracked lips again. “You people collected the memories of the dying just to deal with the Night Scourge.”

Just like in that fairy tale, the infinite notebook Hero Salaar possessed. It recorded every weakness of the Chaos Archdemon, and there would never be a day when it could be finished.

“One person’s strength is far too insignificant. We could only huddle together for warmth.”

Salaar didn’t intend to deny it. He merely used his fingertips to casually pinch Myss’s earlobe. Myss lowered his eyes. The tent was exceptionally dark, and he couldn’t clearly see Salaar’s expression.

“I don’t believe they directly poured the memories into you. The Celestial Canopy must have hidden that pile of memories somewhere. That thing is far more valuable than written records.”

Myss muttered under his breath, “No, wait… Could it be…”

“Yes, it’s the missing piece from the Sea of Concepts.” Salaar admitted readily. “Aside from fragile parchment, we did indeed have more comprehensive records.”

“Where?”

Salaar couldn’t help laughing aloud. “Do you think I would tell you, the Oh Great Source of the Night Scourge?”

Myss scoffed.

He couldn’t fathom the mindsets of humans from three hundred years ago, so he simply stopped thinking about it. At least he now understood one thing. Hero Salaar’s “infinite notebook” truly existed, and it condensed the lifelong learning of all Celestial Canopy’s members.

Thinking this way, the Order of Shadows became even more suspicious. The thing the priest was seeking sounded very much like the Celestial Canopy’s legacy no matter how one listened, yet Salaar had just never heard of the Order of Shadows.

No, no. Why was he thinking about this? He had come here to research how to return to his original body, not to research Salaar!

But then again…

Myss’s thoughts were like a small animal that had been flipped over, wobbling and flailing at the same time. After several minutes of wild thinking, he arranged a perfect row of excuses for himself.

He merely wanted to recover a few more Abnormal Fruit, and study Salaar in passing.

He merely wanted to figure out the true face of that bastard V.O.R, and study Salaar in passing.

He already had the unsealing magic hidden inside “Brave Salaar”, as well as inspiration from Kendrick’s body-swap magic. He only wanted to develop a foolproof return spell, and study Salaar in passing.

…That was right. That was exactly it. He actually wasn’t that anxious. Figuring out the truth was also a form of caution.

Myss shifted his gaze back and happily looked down at Salaar, incidentally pressing his favorite hero cushion.

Salaar’s thumb pressed against Myss’s cheek, creating a soft indentation. Salaar’s gaze was gentle, finely wrapping around Myss, whose eyes were darting about.

From this angle, Myss’s ash-gray long hair wound over him like countless little snakes made of silk. That face remained impossibly beautiful. The pale complexion was stained with scattered blood, and paired with those scarlet eyes, it had a nearly violent beauty.

Even while thinking wildly, Myss’s gaze still always landed on Salaar’s face. Perhaps Myss would never know what kind of gaze he used when he looked over.

Just as Myss would never know the other reason Salaar had drunk that bottle of “Return to Youth.” To let himself feel that kind of happiness once again in a state of knowing nothing, how could he refuse?

At this moment, Myss seemed to have figured something out. He once again put on a pleased expression and repeatedly caressed Salaar’s face with a researching gaze.

Without a doubt, Myss was beginning to understand him. This thought made Salaar’s heart beat so fast it almost slammed into his throat. He couldn’t help smiling. His hand exerted a little force, and he leaned in for a kiss.

Just as expected. The instant he was kissed, Myss subconsciously struggled a little. Then he quickly sank into this battle of tongue and lips, actively fighting for breath and warmth.

As if in retaliation, Myss freed a hand and hugged Salaar tightly. The damp, cold air gradually became soaked with heat. Myss had already been somewhat dizzy, and now he was kissed even more senseless, vague muffled sounds spilling from his throat.

Salaar’s hand moved from the back of Myss’s head to his spine, lightly sliding along the slightly protruding vertebrae. His movements carried a clear longing, as if the two of them had already been in love for many years.

The two were pressed extremely close, and their bodies were young. Very soon, things sparked out of control. Myss bit Salaar’s lip in dissatisfaction. “Deal with it.”

Salaar obediently reached out for once. He buried his face in the hollow of Myss’s neck, breathing in the other’s warm scent. “Mind if we take care of it together?”

Since he had been given permission, perhaps it was time to teach Myss a little more.

“Suit yourself,” Myss said, his breathing somewhat hurried. “As long as you…”

“Ahhhhh—!”

A shrill scream suddenly rang out outside the tent, sharper than the whistle of a steam train.

There was only a muffled thump as a black shadow crashed into their tent, leaving a small human-shaped dent. It looked as if a Dragon Fae had slammed into the tent cloth.

Myss sprang up from Salaar at once. Even Fork and Knife, who had been dormant in the corner of the tent, didn’t escape unscathed. The two snakes nearly tied themselves into a death knot on the spot.

“Wow.” It took Myss a long while to find his voice again.

His gaze flicked downward, and he dryly remarked, “You didn’t say this thing could ‘calm down’ by itself.”

Salaar took a deep breath, then slowly exhaled. He reached out and pulled over the thin blanket, covering his lower half. “Is that Tass? What happened?”

“My wings!”

The Dragon Fae squeezed into the tent in grief. “Look at my wings! They’ve all turned black!”

Myss took a look and agreed, “Like a big fly. It’s kind of gross.”

The Dragon Fae released a mournful whimper.

“Could they have been contaminated by that useless Owen’s stupidity?” Myss pondered.

“How is that possible? Then I should have become stupid.”

The Dragon Fae cried, “They had already darkened a little before. Heavens, I thought I had eaten something bad. Now look, there has never been a black Dragon Fae in the world!”

“Now you’re first place. Isn’t that worth being happy about?” Myss snorted. He discovered, not very happily, that he didn’t like this feeling of being… well, interrupted.

The Dragon Fae carefully avoided Lord Archdemon’s sarcasm. He turned toward Salaar and straightened his body slightly. “I just came to, cough, ask the legendary all-knowing Saint Salaar…”

“Sorry, there were no Dragon Fae during the Night Scourge,” Salaar said, tugging at the thin blanket.

“But there were mutation records during the Night Scourge. Look at those disgusting alchemical creatures.”

Tass displayed his shiny black scales. “I became like this after going into that tower. I couldn’t have been contaminated by something, could I?”

Salaar subconsciously looked at Myss. Myss shook his head.

What a joke. His magic control wasn’t that terrible. If he had allowed his power to leak out, the kingdom Archmages would have come knocking long ago.

“…Your magical fluctuations are stable. This mutation won’t endanger your life.”

Salaar soothed him. “If you’re still worried, once we reach the Crimson Marsh, we can do more tests.”

Tass rubbed his black scales and nodded sorrowfully.

After watching the Dragon Fae fly away as if his soul had left him, the tent briefly fell silent for a few seconds. Salaar slumped his shoulders and let out a long breath.

Myss wickedly crawled forward and grabbed away Salaar’s thin blanket. He blinked, his brows rising higher and higher. “Oh my, how terrible. Do you want me to help you take care of it?”

Lord Archdemon’s tone was full of playful, winding inflections, clearly harboring bad intentions.

Salaar looked at Myss with a mix of resignation and amusement. In the end, he nodded with mock seriousness.

---

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

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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

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Chapter 117: Night Attack

In the end, Salaar didn’t take away that Night Scourge Journal. Instead, he took a will.

[I’m very curious what that “Salaar” looks like. But Aufon is too far away, and the Night Scourge is too long. I don’t think I’ll have the chance to see him. I hope the world after death is bright.

— Désiré Nebra]

The handwriting in this line was neat and clear, the wording plain. It looked like it came from a youth’s hand.

This fully met the Karns family’s requirements, and the supervisor “Peyton” had no objection. To be precise, he couldn’t have any objections.

Salaar didn’t take away any documents that mentioned the “Celestial Canopy.”

“A wise decision.” Kai was in complete agreement, though he reluctantly marked the location of this Middle Finger Tower.

“Everything else is heavy and troublesome,” Salaar shrugged.

As for the truth, they were actually all clear about it.

The Celestial Canopy’s existence had been deliberately erased, yet this tower had successfully remained. This was enough to prove that no matter how mighty the force that erased the Celestial Canopy was, it still had its oversights. At least, it had not discovered this Celestial Canopy’s tower hidden near the Crimson Marsh.

Better not to attract unnecessary attention, Myss thought. Otherwise, who knew what new trouble they might bring upon themselves.

Just as reluctant as Kai was the priest, who hugged the Night Scourge Journal and refused to let go.

The phrase “May His Veil shroud you” appeared more than a dozen times in this Night Scourge journal. Its use wasn’t frequent enough to be considered devout. Rather than a prayer to a god, it was more like a blessing Celestial Canopy members used for one another.

“You, uh, do you know what this is about?”

Before letting go of the journal, Father Kalen asked Salaar very anxiously. “If you truly are that Saint Salaar and are this familiar with the Celestial Canopy’s legacy… then you should know…”

“I vaguely heard of this saying. It wasn’t popular in Aufon. Perhaps it came from some small religion at the time.” Salaar answered ambiguously. “I can only assure you that the ‘Order of Shadows’ isn’t another name for the Celestial Canopy.”

Father Kalen visibly wilted a little. He gathered his emotions and turned again toward Kai, who was madly flipping through files.

Unfortunately, he didn’t get the answer he wanted from Kai either.

“Order of Shadows?”

Kai shook his head. “Personally, I have only heard of the Celestial Canopy. The Order of Shadows isn’t one of our research topics, and I have never seen records about the Lord of Shadows either. Apologies, no offense intended.”

Father Kalen’s large body swayed lightly like a balloon, as if he would deflate in the next second.

After experiencing a string of strange adventures, only to gain so little in the end, he was truly somewhat depressed.

Tass comforted the dejected Kalen. “It might also be a sect like the Stargazers Society, one that believes it inherited the Celestial Canopy’s spirit… Look, you also do work opposing anomalies.”

The moment he heard his own church compared to the Stargazers Society, Kalen let out a great sigh, almost blasting out his lungs.

“At least three hundred years ago, the Order of Shadows definitely existed.” In the end, he comforted himself this way.

The instant everyone left the Middle Finger Tower, the tower once again vanished into the air. Everyone stood on empty wet mud, as if everything had changed, and yet nothing had changed.

Only Myss turned his head and looked toward the place where the tall tower had originally stood. His pupils faintly dilated, absorbing the already faint light.

……

Near the Crimson Marsh.

This year’s “Journey to the Old Lands” had gone especially smoothly. Earl Nebra hummed a little tune as he rested inside his exclusive tent.

According to the customs of the Journey to the Old Lands, after the adventure ended, they needed to resupply at the Crimson Marsh and then return to Serpentis through the teleportation array. Now the team was only half a day away from Serpentis, and he had already begun looking forward to a hot bath piled with bubbles.

“Did you hear, Earl? Those people from the Karns family have been found.”

His assistant entered from outside the tent, carrying freshly roasted cured meat and sliced fruit in his hands. “They contacted Serpentis not long ago. They said that after the teleportation error, they found an unknown ruin themselves.”

“Karns… Karns…”

Earl recalled for two seconds. “Peyton Karns isn’t bad, but unfortunately, he got saddled with two deadweights, Kendrick and Owen. That guy is really unlucky.”

As an elite of the Nebra family, Earl looked down on Kendrick and Owen quite a bit.

Toward Peyton, he retained basic respect, but only the bare minimum. He couldn’t understand why someone would give up such astonishing talent and spend every day obsessed with ascetic practice.

“They are also heading toward the Crimson Marsh now. We might run into them.”

The assistant said cheerfully, stuffing a piece of fruit into his own mouth. He came from the Manning family, which couldn’t compare with great families like the Karns and Nebra, and originally had no qualifications to participate in the Journey to the Old Lands.

The Nebra family giving him an assistant slot counted as pulling him up. He and Earl had known each other for a long time, and Earl didn’t treat him like a servant either.

“…Should we go say hello, Earl?”

“Let’s talk after entering the city.” Earl thought for a moment, then shook his head. “Owen is one thing, but Kendrick isn’t quite right in the head. Better not to provoke him voluntarily.”

“Good idea,” the assistant said.

“Right, later, come patrol with me and scatter exorcism powder while we are at it.” Earl closed the book in his hand. “Even if we’re not far from the Crimson Marsh city area, we can’t lower our guard.”

“Understood.”

At this moment, it was already dark outside.

The Mondicia region already grew dark early, and with the dense forests near the Crimson Marsh, it was even dimmer outside. Although the sun had only just set not long ago, the visibility outside was already no different from midnight.

Annoyingly, certain wandering alchemical creatures only showed their traces after night fell. The beginning of night was the best time for defense, so Earl could only go out at this time.

Earl cautiously picked up the magical lantern. A bulging bag of exorcism powder hung at his waist, and the longsword that served as his wand was tightly gripped in his right hand.

His assistant carried a giant hammer inlaid with gemstones, wearing heavy armor as he followed closely behind. He was large in build, yet he alertly looked around in all directions, ensuring that if danger appeared, he could block in front of Earl immediately.

All things sank into darkness. Night was like cold water, soaking the soles of their feet numb. They stepped through the wet mud one footprint at a time, their patrol speed far slower than walking on flat ground. The squelching sounds were much like raw meat rubbing together, making one’s whole body uncomfortable.

“What is that?” The assistant suddenly spoke, pointing the giant hammer in one direction.

Between two clumps of blackened bushes, a snow-white thing flashed by.

That thing was about as thick as a human neck and bore a striking resemblance to one. It was smooth and hairless, with only pale skin, and even carried faint traces of neck lines.

To be honest, Earl would rather it be a strangely shaped scaleless snake.

Unfortunately, that thing had something no normal snake would ever have. On both sides, every forearm’s length or so, there grew a pair of symmetrical human hands connected to its body. Like an insect’s short limbs, they waved their ten fingers as it advanced.

Its fingertips were covered in mud, its nails cracked. Several fingernails had even flipped backward, making one’s skin crawl.

Earl reacted extremely quickly. He immediately hissed and scattered a handful of exorcism powder mixed with coarse salt, silver filings, and fragrant wood around them. The two froze in place, waiting for that deformed alchemical creature to pass by.

However, that thing’s body seemed to have no end. One pair of hands after another crawled past that bush at an unhurried speed. The moment its body touched the light from Earl’s lantern, it immediately vanished into the light. Only in the darkness did its deathly pale outline appear.

As more and more of it disappeared, the rustling grew closer and closer. Earl suddenly realized something was wrong. “It’s running around us and shrinking the encirclement as it runs!”

Once this thing completely hid inside the light, this bit of exorcism powder wouldn’t be enough to defend them. Earl made a prompt decision. “Run!”

…This was the last thing in his memory.

So he didn’t know that after he lost consciousness, a pair of feet stopped beside him.

Above those feet was a cloak that wrapped the entire body. Not a single bit of skin was exposed anywhere on that person. Beneath the cloak was a mask painted with a moon emblem.

Had Myss been here, he definitely would have recognized that this person was exactly the same as the “Stargazers Society leader” they had met in the Sea of Concepts.

That person extended a hand wrapped in a black glove and pressed it onto Earl’s head.

“Kalen…” Behind the mask, the person released a soft sigh.

Not far away.

Kai bowed to them. “Many thanks for everyone’s assistance. This place isn’t far from the Crimson Marsh, so I’ll take my leave first.”

Myss snorted. He could tell that Kai was impatient.

The moment he thought of the Stargazers Society about to peel open that Middle Finger Tower for research, he felt inexplicably displeased. That tower had been built by the Celestial Canopy, had been formed by them to oppose the Night Scourge, and the Night Scourge existed because of him. By rough calculation, that meant the tower belonged to him.

Forget it. In any case, he had already seen what he needed to see.

Compared to those long-winded journals and wills, Myss cared more about the extraction magic of that strange machine.

If he could successfully combine Mina’s magic with the extraction magic, he would be able to secretly drill into Salaar’s memories and see that guy’s past clearly from beginning to end.

Along the way, Myss had rehearsed it in his mind for a long time. He was waiting until after nightfall, so he could make a night attack on Mr. Saint Salaar.

Now, the moment was almost here.

Since his identity had been exposed, Salaar no longer hid anything and openly gave Owen a full set of memory distortion.

In Owen’s memory, he had been knocked down by defensive magic the moment he entered the tower and remained unconscious until everyone left the tower. Even now, he was still dizzy and unable to tell east from west and could only let the “kind” “Peyton” take care of him along the way.

Tonight, naturally, they would stay in one tent.

Father Kalen used branches and leaves to build a meditation tent, expressing that he needed to properly sort through his thoughts.

The Dragon Fae moved passionately into his pocket watch nest. Tass gloomily said that he also had a huge pile of thoughts to sort through, mainly about Salaar’s identity.

…In the end, Myss and Salaar shared the sole remaining tent.

The tent was prepared by the Karns family and was much better than the one previously distributed by the circus. Its light-blocking and soundproofing were first-rate. Inside, it even came with matching soft blankets, soft pillows, and a compressed mattress.

Logically speaking, after being tossed around all the way here, Myss should have been sleepy, hungry, and exhausted, directly toppling over and falling into deep sleep. However, his plan to night-attack Salaar was truly invigorating. Myss watched a certain someone without blinking, his eyes brighter than magical lightbulbs.

Salaar seemed utterly unaware. He took out some supplies and cooked two bowls of thick porridge with cheese and bacon. After the simple dinner, he allowed Myss to press onto his chest and closed his eyes quite steadily.

Almost in the next second, Myss immediately widened his eyes and stared intently at Salaar. He used his body to feel Salaar’s breathing and heartbeat, making sure this person had truly fallen asleep.

In the darkness, his pupils slowly scattered outward, almost completely swallowing the blood-red irises. Countless magic threads reached out from his skin and surged onto Salaar’s body.

Then the magic threads gradually dissolved, turning into rolling mist. They gently brushed over Salaar’s skin and mixed into Salaar’s breath.

This time, Myss didn’t search for the Magibase as he had before. Instead, he learned from that mysterious giant machine and slowly soaked Salaar’s spirit with magic.

Perhaps because that hurried glance had been too rushed, the process was even harder than Myss had imagined. According to the revelation from that machine, extracting a person’s memories should be like straining away the water after boiling potatoes.

Right now, however, it was more like he had grabbed an unreliable broken net and wanted to fish beneath a sea with unfathomable depths.

Fortunately, in a daze, he dredged up a few fragments.

He saw the frigid north, night and falling snow mixed together, both hands reaching toward the darkness as if longing for an embrace. He saw a smoking oil lamp and ink-stained hands, a fountain pen wearing thick calluses into the fingers. He saw sparks flying, a hammer striking red-hot iron again and again, coarse hands covered in burn marks.

In first-person memories, he saw descending darkness, saw the dawn after the Night Scourge. He saw people gnawing on charred corpses, saw people kissing each other’s tears.

…As expected.

Even if he couldn’t grasp those complete key memories, these fragments were enough to prove it. Inside Salaar’s head, there undoubtedly existed other people’s memories. The hands he saw were all different. They couldn’t possibly belong to the same person.

Could it be that the Celestial Canopy extracted the memories of its dying members, separated away personality and emotion, and stuffed all of them into Salaar?

…No, that wasn’t right. If they did that, what would happen if Salaar died?

Salaar had managed to swagger all the way to today only because Myss was cautious and hadn’t crushed this little pest to death. If Myss had ever acted on a whim and squashed Salaar with a tentacle, wouldn’t all their efforts have gone to waste?

Besides, Salaar had come to seal him in order to delay time. He had never intended to return alive.

Myss couldn’t quite understand.

He wanted to fish up more memories, but Salaar’s memory depths far surpassed ordinary people’s, and Myss truly couldn’t strip Salaar bare. As magic churned, a twisting pain hit Myss’s head, so painful it made his stomach turn, and the area beneath his nose vaguely grew warm.

Myss dazedly wiped at it and came away with a burst of rich, sweet blood.

The moment he moved like this, Salaar opened his eyes.

He looked at the nosebleed on Myss’s face, looked at his own chest where blood had dripped, then looked at Myss.

Salaar: “?”

---

Kinky Thoughts:

This arc was quite good. I didn’t expect such a twist at the end.

---

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

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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

---

Chapter 116: Shadow of Truth

Drip, drip.

Soon, “Peyton” had accumulated a small half bottle. Salaar once again cut open his healed palm and poured flowing brilliance into that bottle. They didn’t merge. The brilliant gold wrapped the liquid into a fist-sized sphere, like a translucent golden egg.

After doing this, Salaar’s face gained a layer of leaden pallor, and he visibly weakened somewhat. He quickly healed the deep wound on his hand, opened the glass cover again, and pressed that egg onto Peyton’s head.

Before everyone’s eyes, that strange golden egg suddenly lost its physical form and slowly melted into Peyton’s forehead. Inside the glass cover, there was no longer any mist filled with Salaar’s magic, yet the color in Peyton’s cheeks didn’t vanish. His breathing was long and shallow, as if he had fallen into deep sleep.

Immediately after, Salaar raised his arm and pressed it over Peyton’s missing right eye.

A sticky sound of flesh stirring rang out. A round eyeball squeezed out from that overgrown rotten flesh. It rolled around twice at random, then returned to a normal position.

But this time, Salaar didn’t immediately stop.

The eyelid of the right eye healed at an abnormal speed, too much, in fact. Flesh stuck together, turning the spot where Peyton’s right eye was into a flat patch of skin, as if an eye had never been meant to grow there.

Immediately after, a sizzling sound of burning rang out.

Above Peyton’s right eye, a strangely shaped mark surfaced. At first glance, it looked like an ordinary burn scar, yet also somewhat resembled a deformed sun.

Compared to the horrifying scar from before, it could almost be called harmless to humans and animals and wouldn’t make anyone feel fear at all.

Myss felt that this thing looked a little familiar. He thought for a while and realized it was exactly the same as the one on Professor Gentry. It was Salaar’s oath magic. It was different from their contract. To put it plainly, it was more like a chain of subordination.

The fluctuation of oath magic spread outward, and Kendrick finally sensed something was wrong. “This isn’t memory processing!”

“Yes. This is an oath branded onto this body.”

Salaar withdrew his hand, his voice cold and deep. “Before Peyton wakes, you must obey me completely.”

Kendrick dangerously twisted the puppet’s head. “But this way, I can’t turn the Divine Realm inside out. It’ll seriously affect my ability to wield my power.”

“Mm?” Salaar cupped his hand behind his ear and deliberately struck a listening pose. “Didn’t we agree you would hide your identity properly? How else do you want to use it?”

“This is a disguised seal.” Kendrick stared fixedly at him.

Salaar shrugged, his face full of “if that’s what you want to think, there’s nothing I can do.”

Seeing that this topic couldn’t continue, Kendrick twisted his neck with creaking clicks. “Also, this sounds like a one-sided oath. What about you?”

“How can you guarantee that you won’t make me do things that harm the body… or that after Peyton wakes, you won’t still control us?”

Salaar said with righteous confidence, “Oh, because I have impeccable character.”

His expression smoothly changed into “I can’t help it if you don’t believe me.” Even Myss had to marvel at how utterly shameless he was.

Mm, this was still the Salaar he knew, quite some distance away from the title “Saint.”

Kendrick looked at that scar, then at Salaar, then back at the scar. “……”

He was silent for a long while. In the end, amid the impact of the puppet collapsing to the ground, he returned to the body. Inside the glass cover, “Peyton” abruptly opened his eyes, a thin layer of anger on his face.

He took a spare cloth eyepatch from his pocket and obediently covered that oath mark.

“When Peyton wakes, I will heal this mark.”

Salaar added at just the right time. “Don’t worry about your brother’s right eye. I will do my best to return a healthy body to him.”

“Do your best?” Kendrick left the glass cover, his expression becoming even uglier.

“Yes. After all, there is a part like ‘you’ affecting his mental health,” Salaar said. “That is the more rigorous way to phrase it.”

Myss: “Pfft.”

Unfortunately, aside from Lord Archdemon, no one else present could laugh.

“Heavens, this is an absolute taboo.”

Tass was dumbfounded. He whispered to Kalen but failed to suppress the volume of a human throat. “I’ve only heard that ancient alchemy had many forbidden practices, but this kind of extraction method for humans is really…” He couldn’t find the words.

“Could Salaar and Myss truly be survivors of the Night Scourge?” Kalen followed human etiquette and responded at the same volume.

Seeing that the frightening couple, no, Salaar and Myss, showed no intention of paying attention to their side, Tass simply continued, “If I have to choose between ‘kin of the Archdemon’ and ‘Saint Salaar and his lover,’ I’d rather it be the latter.”

Although judging by his tone, his emotions hadn’t been comforted at all.

Father Kalen realistically added a bit of psychological pressure for him. “Whichever it is, with V.O.R added on top, too many strange people have suddenly appeared recently. Something major is bound to happen.”

Tass hummed a few times in agreement, though to Myss, that hum sounded a little like, “Why aren’t you counting yourself?”

In any case, their two teammates had no overly intense reaction, so everything could be considered smooth for the time being.

Myss put away his spectator’s mindset and carefully recalled the extraction magic he had just seen, repeatedly breaking it down and imitating it in his heart. Even better, Salaar immediately provided him with an all-new case.

“Now, you can switch the others back,” Salaar said to Kendrick.

At the same time, those ancient puppets seemed to have received an order and curled back to their original places of dormancy one after another. They climbed up those complex pipes like stick insects. At first glance, they looked like part of the complex machinery, impossible to distinguish at a glance.

Kendrick silently raised his hand. Pale-blue magic rippled outward layer by layer.

In the next instant, Tass beside Father Kalen, or more accurately, Tass using “Kai’s” body, staggered, and the expression on his face abruptly changed.

The pocket watch on Myss’s chest moved, and the real Dragon Fae Tass shot out, spinning through the air doing 360-degrees flips. “Ah, yes, that’s the feeling!”

Kai moved his gaze in a daze. “Just now, I only saw the fire go out… Where is this…”

“The top level where the central control room is located.” Salaar smoothly picked up the answer. “We have just undone the body-swap magic.”

Kai took a full two seconds to react, then gave an “oh.” Dizzily, he scratched his hair. “Then right now, my puppet is supporting Mr. Owen… Transporting him up here will probably take some time…”

“Leave him there for now. We have to return to the bottom level eventually,” Kendrick said, clearly not wanting to deal with it. “Even if he were here, he wouldn’t understand anything useful.”

“The bottom of the chimney is full of ash and has no mechanisms. With the Divine Blood Puppet protecting him, nothing will happen.”

Salaar approved this statement. Myss had reason to suspect that Salaar simply wanted the Divine Blood Puppet to remain far away, thereby weakening Kai’s combat power.

Kai’s expression relaxed a little. He readily tacitly permitted the puppet to stay away, and all his attention was drawn by the brightly lit top level.

He stretched out trembling fingertips and lightly brushed them over the complex machinery that had just been operating, his expression a mixture of excitement and frustration.

“As expected of a ruin only discovered now. It’s preserved so well.”

He murmured softly, “Too beautiful. This is an alchemical miracle of the Night Scrouge era, a fascinating creation born from mortal hands yet able to rival clusters of magic circles… Even if you told me it could still operate, I would believe it.”

Everyone else: “…”

It indeed could. It had just operated. Myss held back a snort of laughter.

“I think your Journey to the Old Lands has been very successful. This thing is definitely connected to Saint Salaar. If you go to the central control room, you will certainly find related paper records.”

Kai gently stroked the smooth, cold glass tube as if stroking a lover’s legs.

Everyone else, having just heard Salaar’s confession: “…………”

The thing, or rather, the person with the greatest connection to “Saint Salaar” was elsewhere in the room.

However, this Stargazer could truly be called candid. Kai looked almost mad with joy, to the point that he didn’t treat them like outsiders at all.

“We will take away some records related to ‘Saint Salaar.’ I imagine my family’s test can be successfully passed, correct, Mr. ‘Peyton’?”

Kendrick nodded. He had already restrained that crazed appearance and returned to a calm, cold state.

“As long as you don’t die in the assassination attempts that follow and successfully return to Serpentis,” he said.

Hearing this, Kai immediately lifted his head. “I’ll go with you first. Since you are going to take away some of the materials, I need to record them in advance.”

Seeing Kai in an excellent mood, Father Kalen hesitated in place for a while. Just as Myss suspected the priest was about to dig a hole in the wooden floor with the soles of his shoes, Kalen finally gathered his courage and very “casually” stood beside Kai.

“We all saw the records. This is a ‘Celestial Canopy’ ruin.”

The priest worked hard to make this conversation sound less deliberate. “How unusual. I have never heard of this organization outside, nor have I seen any records about it. I didn’t expect them to have such magnificent ruins.”

“Indeed.” Kai nodded straightforwardly.

This Stargazer retained the last of his reasons and didn’t seem inclined to go deeper into the topic.

“…I wonder what god they believed in during the Night Scourge era.” The priest persevered, continuing so forcefully that even Myss felt it was a little strained.

“Oh, you’re curious about their faith?” Kai finally picked up the thread.

He turned his body sideways and pointed toward the narrow central control room not far away. “As far as I know, over there, there is most likely a ‘Night Scourge Journal’ used for wishing and meditation.”

“Whether or not they were members of the ‘Celestial Canopy,’ humans during Night Scourge always liked using pen and ink to record their dreams and hopes. That thing is most likely to contain prayers to the gods…”

Before Kai’s final word had even landed, the priest shot out.

Myss immediately followed curiously and nearly collided face-to-face with Salaar, who was striding forward.

The two who almost collided immediately steadied their footing and straightened their clothes, looking exactly like a pair of dignified people who knew how to restrain their curiosity. Only, this scene lasted less than two seconds. The two squeezed forward like loaches again, following the priest into the central control room.

Father Kalen had encountered several Abnormal Fruit gods and had still come out unharmed. At this point, even Myss was somewhat curious about that mysterious Order of Shadows.

Whether intentionally or unintentionally, the “Night Scourge Journal” had been placed in the most conspicuous spot.

It had a hard cover dyed brilliant gold, and a beautiful sun pattern was drawn on the front. It was only a little thinner than an ordinary dictionary. Unlike the gray, gloomy wills, it was bright and warm, like a cluster of firelight deep within ashes.

The priest carefully picked up the journal. Myss and Salaar leaned in from the left and right, their gazes also fixed on the pages.

The wishes written in different handwriting were as ordinary as the wills sleeping in the darkness. However, among the words that flashed quickly past, there was a familiar passage.

[Shadows are not the dark of night. Before the Shadow, there is light. We shall ultimately merge into the Shadow of Truth.]

[May His Veil shroud you, unseen and unharmed.]

---

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

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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

---

Chapter 115: Extraction

Finally, the puppets finished gathering the scattered wills. Those damaged beyond restoration were swept into a corner and piled into a small grave mound.

Except for Kai, who had been thrown into the chimney, everything returned to calm. Kendrick didn’t immediately undo the body-swap effect on the others, so the group continued forward like this.

Myss lazily half-hung from Salaar.

Solid, soft, and warm, with a very stable base. It was the kind of touch he liked.

He was a little curious how Salaar planned to deal with Kendrick, but not curious to the point that he absolutely had to see it. Because of everything that had happened earlier, both his brain and his flesh were so tired they were about to melt.

Before this, Fork had been guarding Knife without taking a single step away. Once it confirmed Knife’s intelligence had returned, Fork went clack, lay down, and simply slept like the dead.

Tass controlled Kai’s body, swaying back and forth like a large bee. Judging from his expression, he seemed more inclined to believe Salaar’s revelation of his true identity was an act. He wanted to confirm it yet also felt that now wasn’t the right time.

Father Kalen was more worried about Kai in the chimney.

Even though Kai was a Stargazer of unknown background, he was at least using Owen Karns’s body. Owen might be a vicious fool, but his crime didn’t deserve death.

“Is it all right to leave Kai down below?” the priest asked carefully, his tone neither high nor low, just enough for Kendrick to hear.

“That puppet can hold on.” Kendrick responded lightly, his eyes only looking forward.

The space one level higher was filled with even more machinery, and even more darkness.

Twisted, undulating metal pipes and slender glass tubes crisscrossed the area, resembling the heart of some mechanical creature. Under the lantern light, the shadows danced with the trembling flames. The projections of these things intersected with each other, as if they were quietly breathing.

Salaar lightly stroked Myss’s back, making the drowsy enemy loosen his embrace. Then he walked to a wall buried beneath certain pipelines and gently extended his hand.

In the next instant, the entire space lit up.

Amid a strange rumbling hum, brilliant golden radiance spilled down from the top of the tower.

Only then did everyone discover that what hung above their heads wasn’t the ceiling of the previous floor, but the four-edged spire of the tall tower. A round glass cover hung there, filled with fist-sized sunstones. They emitted sunlight-like radiance, illuminating the entire top floor as if it were day.

Myss was dazzled by the light. He subconsciously lifted his hand to his forehead, shading out a small patch of shadow.

Everything emerged from the darkness, yet he still couldn’t understand what any of it was. This place was too clean. There weren’t even wheelchairs or wills, only empty alchemical machinery and a strange glass jar encircling the inner wall of the chimney.

A thin layer of dust had accumulated on the glass jar, but its empty interior was still visible. Myss twitched his nose. The air here was also clean, without any strange smell.

On the opposite side of the inner wall from the glass jar, a small compartment had been separated off with brass-colored metal plates. On it, a neatly etched line read “Central Control Room.”

“How are you planning to save Peyton?”

Kendrick moved a few steps and stood between everyone and the central control room.

“By using this equipment to ‘filter’ out his memories and thoughts, if any of his consciousness truly remains.”

Salaar said in a low voice, “Then place them into a suitable body. That is the most ideal situation.”

Make a body that could truly hold life? …An alchemical life?

Myss looked at Salaar in surprise. He only knew the concept of alchemical life, but had never considered how they were made, just as he wasn’t that interested in the craft behind raspberry candy.

“A suitable body.” Kendrick slowly chewed on this phrase.

“As for how much consciousness Peyton still has left, I’m not certain. After all, I have only heard the situation relayed by Myss.”

Salaar paced slowly and walked to the empty glass cover.

“However, Peyton’s Magibase is still there, and his flesh body hasn’t truly died. If he only experienced reversible brain damage, then the possibility of his survival is indeed quite high.”

“What if not much consciousness is left?” Kendrick pressed.

Salaar was silent for a moment.

“…The spirit is like the liver,” he said softly. “Even if more than half of it is damaged, it can slowly heal.”

“However, if too little of his spirit remains, then even if I forcibly wake him, his condition will be no different from dementia.”

This time, it was Kendrick’s turn to fall silent.

“You didn’t fully accept the Abnormal Fruit, so it didn’t fully fuse with Peyton’s Magibase. In other words, Peyton’s ‘spiritual organ’ didn’t completely undergo total pathological transformation. That’s why I said there is hope.”

“I can only guarantee that I’m the person in this world most skilled in spiritual magic, the best choice you can find.”

Salaar added calmly.

“…So, Kendrick Karns. Do you want me to continue and give you a verdict? Or do you refuse help and preserve a thread of hope for yourself?”

“Continue. I have only one request.”

Only after a long struggle did Kendrick give his answer.

“Speak.”

“If Peyton is gone, then execute me, take my divine power, and continue dealing with V.O.R.”

His tone carried a frightening relaxation. “I only wanted to live with Peyton in the monastery and hunt sinners together. If I am the only one, all of this has no meaning.”

“As you said, I have killed many people. Then let me atone for my sins with my death. Brother will be comforted by it too.”

Judging from his tone, that powerful force mortals dreamed of obtaining was nothing more than a dispensable wad of useless paper. And his own life was merely a chess piece that could be discarded at any moment.

Myss licked his lips. He had to admit, this proposal was somewhat tempting.

A living “god” certainly had uses, but a dead “god” was even fresher and more delicious.

Salaar, however, simply nodded. “I agree.”

Tass: “Wait, am I the only one who wants to ask what this damn place was originally used for?”

Whether it was spiritual filtering or body manufacturing, were these really things that could be discussed openly? …He knew that ancient alchemy was somewhat sinister, but he hadn’t known it could be this strange.

Salaar only smiled at him and didn’t say more.

The Dragon Fae secretly moved a little farther away from Salaar, pressing his back against the burly but curious Father Kalen.

Under everyone’s gazes, some curious and some terrified, Salaar’s fingers lightly traced a complex path across that glass cover. The cover opened smoothly to both sides like a ladybug’s wings, revealing a slanted groove.

“Lie inside,” Salaar said to Kendrick. “Once you are lying down, temporarily transfer your consciousness to a puppet. You can do that, right?”

Kendrick raised his brows.

“Otherwise, once the filtering is over, your consciousness will mix with the remnants of Peyton’s consciousness, and it will be no different from not filtering at all.” Salaar shrugged. “This thing has a way to preserve the body’s vitality, so don’t worry.”

“That’s enough. If we wanted to kill you, we wouldn’t need to go to all this trouble.” Myss swallowed hard, struggling to keep his voice clear.

Only then did Kendrick comply.

The instant his consciousness left his body, the ancient puppet closest to the glass cover suddenly stiffened, then quickly returned to a humanoid shape. It pressed both hands against the closed glass cover and silently looked at Peyton’s “sleeping” body inside.

Just then, a metal box popped out from the side of the glass cover. Salaar sliced open his palm. The blood that flowed out wasn’t dark red, but pure gold condensed with ample magic, like flowing gold.

That golden blood quickly filled the metal box. Immediately after, Salaar pushed the box back into place with a click.

Almost at the same instant, pale golden mist rose inside the glass cover. Amid the steaming mist, black and viscous substances slowly seeped from the eyes, nose, ears, and mouth of Peyton’s body.

When the golden mist touched these things, it was like fish encountering bait. Those black substances were swept into the gold, turning into black mist mixed within the brilliant gold.

At this moment, everyone’s attention was on those dancing black wisps. Myss briefly turned his gaze toward Salaar.

He was becoming increasingly curious about Salaar’s past. Previously, when he read memories, he had merely imitated Mina and used magic threads to touch the other person’s Magibase.

Salaar had no Magibase, and he was damned skilled at defending against Myss’s magic, so Myss had never had similar thoughts. If… just if, he could use this current trick of playing with consciousness on Salaar…

Realizing that he had been distracted for too long, Myss immediately turned his gaze back and continued observing the process of “spiritual filtering.”

Soon, the golden mist inside the glass cover turned gray-black, like churning shadows. Peyton’s body no longer secreted those strange black liquids. The corners of his eyes and mouth had long since been licked clean by the mist, and his complexion was still rosy and peaceful.

Beneath the glass cover, the friction of turning gears suddenly sounded. Judging by the thick pipe connected below the glass cover, this process clearly wasn’t complete, yet Salaar suddenly pulled down a lever and directly closed that thick pipe.

The black-gray mist was fully absorbed by the thin tube above the glass cover.

They passed through spiral glass tubes, slowly separating and condensing like essential oil extraction. Salaar’s golden blood vanished somewhere unknown. Only inside the collecting bottle the size of a human head, swaying black liquid gradually condensed.

“What is that?” Kendrick turned the puppet’s eyes and asked in a dry voice.

“That is ‘Peyton,’” Salaar said. “To be precise, it is Peyton’s emotions and thoughts after the interfering memories have been stripped away.”

“Now I have two pieces of news, one good and one bad. Which do you want to hear first?”

Kendrick didn’t seem to like this “game,” but he had no desire to waste time. “The good news.”

“The good news is that, just as you dreamed, Peyton Karns hasn’t completely vanished. His spirit has lost more than two-thirds of itself, but at least the root has been preserved.”

The puppet didn’t need to breathe, but Kendrick exhaled a long breath, as if a burden of tens of millions of pounds had been lifted.

“The bad news,” he said, almost peacefully.

“For him to fully awaken, it will take around ten years. During this period, you must carefully take care of his body and speak with him every day to stimulate his spirit.”

Salaar stated realistically, “To be honest, this will be very difficult, and it will be difficult to hide from others. Even if you move somewhere completely uninhabited, if V.O.R remembers you one day…”

“You don’t need to make a new body,” Kendrick interrupted Salaar.

“What, you want to give up?” Myss asked curiously. “At a time like this?”

“No,” Kendrick said. “Peyton should use the body that originally belonged to him. The one who had taken over his place was me.”

“I understand. You want to sacrifice yourself in exchange for Peyton’s return.”

Father Kalen said solemnly, his right hand pressing to his chest. “Only, ‘carefully taking care of’ a family member is no burden for the Karns family.”

“…No.” Kendrick smiled.

That smile didn’t resemble Peyton in the slightest. Instead, it held a faint neurotic quality, making even the puppet’s rigid features seem a little more sinister.

“I only think that I should take care of him in a way more ‘close to the body’ than ‘close personal care.’”

“Sir who calls himself ‘Saint Salaar,’ since you are so skilled in spiritual magic, then you should understand that two spirits can survive within the same flesh body.”

“Isn’t that madness?” Tass sucked in a cold breath.

He had indeed heard of similar cases. Certain people would develop multiple personalities.

Most of these people lived alone. Once their condition was exposed on a large scale, they were either sent to a church for exorcism or hauled off to an asylum. Only a tiny number of families were willing to continue supporting them.

Hearing such a painless evaluation as “madness,” Kendrick remained unmoved. “Peyton is my family, not some member of the Karns family.”

“For these ten years, I will take meticulous care of this body. And when he wakes, I am willing to return control of the body to him and let him decide whether I may ‘appear.’”

“Even if he learns of everything I have done over the years and wants to imprison me in his heart forever, I am willing. We will never be separated again.”

Salaar’s expression turned grave.

Stuffing two consciousness into one body was something he could do.

According to Kendrick, this was indeed the most beneficial option for Peyton’s recovery, and it wouldn’t easily alert V.O.R to anything abnormal.

The problem was whether, after Peyton woke, he could accept having an obsessive soul inside him.

“In exchange, before Peyton wakes, I’m willing to absolutely obey you, as long as your orders don’t harm my body. Since you are ‘Saint Salaar,’ you surely possess the means to bind such an oath.”

Kendrick continued in an icy, slippery tone, “…You desperately need my power, don’t you?”

Faced with such a price, Salaar ultimately sighed.

“Deal,” he said.

If the world still existed ten years from now, at worst, he could go deal with Peyton’s possible complaints then.

While the two discussed terms, Myss was thinking about something else.

His pupils faintly diffused as he stared fixedly at the strange machine in operation.

He could barely make out that filtering the “spirit” wasn’t the main purpose of this complex magical cluster. Rather, judging from how this machine operated, the “spirit” was a genuine impurity.

Looking at that pipe, the one that not even a skull could pass through and which Salaar had shut halfway through, the “flesh body” was most likely also an impurity that needed to be separated.

What it truly wanted to preserve was pure memory stripped of personality and emotion.

Yes. Thinking of it this way, all the strange things about this tower could be explained.

Why this place emphasized medical treatment and recuperation, why there were no corpses here… why so many wills were preserved downstairs.

Three hundred years ago, the members of the Celestial Canopy had come here, perhaps because they were ill, wounded, or too old. They spent the final period of their lives inside the tower until their lives were about to reach their end. In the end, they threw themselves into this strange alchemical machine and extracted everything from this life.

…The problem was, the Celestial Canopy’s mission was to oppose the Night Scourge, so why did it collect such a thing?

---

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

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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

---

Chapter 114: True Identity

Salaar’s gaze swept over the strange machinery inside the tower, then over to Tass and Kalen, who were just as curious, and finally stopped on Myss.

“He’s somewhat useful.” Myss shrugged.

For the moment, it seemed Kendrick wasn’t the mastermind behind the body-swap ritual. He actually didn’t mind killing Kendrick and seizing the Abnormal Fruit that was right in front of him.

But Kendrick had investigated V.O.R for many years, so he should have discovered something. Moreover, this guy’s divine power was “body swapping.” It might be useful.

As for how to control Kendrick, that wasn’t something Lord Archdemon needed to worry about. Now that Salaar had changed back into his body, Myss’s nerves abruptly loosened, and he almost wanted to melt on the spot.

Seeing Myss express it like that, Salaar paused for two seconds, then nodded.

Myss subconsciously wrinkled his nose. This kid was almost certainly going to say some nonsense about being a kin of the Chaos Archdemon again. Who knew how he would smooth over the ancient puppets this time.

“I told you all long ago, my name is ‘Salaar,’” Salaar said.

Inside the brilliant golden protective barrier, Kendrick silently looked at him, a trace of slight incomprehension on his face. Tass and Kalen were also full of questions. Yet as the seconds ticked by, Salaar offered no further explanation.

Unlike Tass and Kalen, whose confusion continued, Kendrick’s expression changed slightly. “Salaar?”

“Yes. I thought that bottle of ‘Return to Youth’ had shown enough, after all, you people have looked at my portrait for so many years.”

Salaar spread his hands. Knife, which had just returned to normal, wrapped around his palm. It apologetically scratched its head with the tip of its tail. Then silver light flashed past, and an elegant cane appeared in Salaar’s hand.

He lightly tapped the floor with the cane and continued, “I know. The young version of me isn’t very likable. You saw that all along the way.”

Myss immediately straightened, the shock on his face even greater than Kendrick’s.

Salaar had actually told the truth, revealing the identity that previously only the two of them had known! Myss abruptly felt the displeasure of a secret being exposed.

Silence completely descended. For a moment, no one spoke. Only a trembling question came from inside the pocket watch. “Have you gone insane?”

Owen sounded as if he wanted to faint on the spot.

“I know. What circulates nowadays is all nonsense, so you won’t believe me immediately.”

Salaar’s gaze lightly brushed over Myss again. “Since we are standing inside the Celestial Canopy’s Middle-Finger Tower, I have plenty of ways to prove it.”

As he spoke, those wandering ancient puppets gathered beside Salaar once again. They tucked away a portion of their slender limbs and sat like hunting dogs, lowering their heads obediently toward Salaar.

Their bodies were too large, and the lanterns had all fallen to the ground. Thus, their heads were all hidden in the shadows above, leaving only dozens of faintly swaying lapis-lazuli points of light.

Salaar casually patted the limb of one of them. The surroundings were filled with pale-blue cold light, and paired with Salaar’s identical lapis-lazuli eyes, the scene carried a chill that sank deep into the bones.

For a moment, no one spoke again.

Kendrick widened his single remaining lapis eye and stared fixedly at Salaar. A trace of ecstasy gradually surfaced on his face, but that ecstasy didn’t look like witnessing a family legend. It was almost frightening.

“You mean that human sacrifice ritual brought you back from the dead.” His voice carried a certain thirst. “In other words, as long as the correct ritual is performed, one can…”

“Oh, then I’ll have to disappoint you,” Myss interrupted him sourly. “This guy was never dead. He just got incredibly old, with more wrinkles on the tip of his nose than a walnut.”

Kendrick instantly turned his head, his gaze stabbing toward Myss. “You sound like you know him very well.”

“Because he is my…”

The corner of Salaar’s mouth twitched. “He is someone who accompanied me throughout my life, someone unique to me.”

“…Heavens.”

Owen finally found his voice inside the pocket watch. “You can’t be trying to say that the Karns family was born from you and this guy…”

Salaar: “…”

Myss: “…” His hand slowly moved toward the pocket watch. Kendrick was still useful. Perhaps they should kill useless Owen first.

Salaar stretched out his arm, pressed down on Myss’s restless claw, and slowly pushed his hand down. Myss puffed a breath through his nose and temporarily let it go.

Kendrick clearly had no interest in his “ancestor’s” relationships, nor did he have any reverence for “Saint Salaar.”

He looked at Salaar fanatically and took a deep breath. “Listen, I don’t care that much who you are, nor do I care what you want to do. Even if you are the Chaos Archdemon, I’m willing to cooperate with you, as long as you are strong enough to bring Peyton back…”

“That’s exactly what I want to discuss with you.”

Crack. The brilliant golden shield shattered. Salaar advanced two steps and grabbed Kendrick by the front of his clothes.

“You have killed plenty of people too. You should know what ‘death’ tastes like. Life and death are not your toys, Kendrick Karns. The only reason I am leaving you alive is that you have not fallen so far as to seek help from V.O.R.”

Kendrick’s expression was almost calm. “Say whatever you like, as long as you…”

“—I will try.”

Salaar said coldly, releasing the front of Kendrick’s clothes. “Today. Here. In exchange, you must cooperate with every requirement I make.”

Kendrick nodded without hesitation.

He tenderly smoothed the front of his clothes that Salaar had wrinkled, as if brushing dust from his favorite treasure.

Only after tidying himself did he leisurely raise his head. “Do you still want the Stargazer inside the chimney? He slid down to the lower part of the chimney and is currently relying on that puppet to hold on.”

Myss and Salaar exchanged a look and nodded for the time being.

Kai was closely tied to Professor Gentry. Letting him die here would do them no good. At worst, they could have Salaar do a little memory manipulation later and handle him together with Owen.

“…But now’s not the time. Let him stay down there for a while longer.”

Salaar pointed upward. “Let me handle Peyton’s matter first.”

Kendrick grunted in agreement.

Salaar waved his hand, and the dozen or so ancient puppets busied themselves. They crawled across the battlefield, which was in complete disarray, recovering the wills from the ruins at a speed that made it impossible to see clearly, rebuilding the damaged wooden cabinets, and returning those fragile papers to where they should have been.

Kalen watched for a while, then couldn’t resist joining the work. Tass, meanwhile, wandered around suspiciously, pondering that explosive conversation just now.

Taking advantage of this gap, Myss briefly explained the complicated situation between Kendrick and Peyton to Salaar.

At the end, he raised his brows in great dissatisfaction. “When facing Magnolia, you still knew to call yourself a kin of the Chaos Archdemon. What, are you suddenly trying to pick the virtue of ‘honesty’ back up?”

His eyes were fixed on the regained hero cushion, but his tone remained as sharp and unsparing as ever.

“Because this is the Celestial Canopy’s tower, and in front of everyone, I mobilized the Celestial Canopy’s puppets.”

Salaar’s tone was calm. “I don’t know how much Kendrick knows, but as long as he knows the Celestial Canopy was hostile to the Chaos Archdemon, that lie becomes difficult to smooth over.”

“That guy is a thorough lunatic, and he holds divine power in his hands. I had to present an identity that could suppress him and was sufficiently real.”

Myss snorted noncommittally. “You even dared to say your true name out loud. He’s not as mad as you.”

“You’re very worried about me?” Salaar leaned against the complex machine on the wall, his gaze scratching over Myss again and again.

“Worried about you? I’m more worried you can’t control your mouth and will drag me down with you.”

Myss reflexively scoffed, his fingers casually rubbing the ends of his hair. Whether it was the familiar touch or the familiar bickering, both made his mood improve a little.

Salaar didn’t continue arguing. He only quietly looked toward Myss.

The dim blue light swayed endlessly. For a moment, Myss couldn’t distinguish whether the one looking at him was that annoying Salaar who didn’t know the height of heaven and depth of earth, or that young illusion with little emotion.

Not far away, the puppets carried papers and broken wood. Fine rustling sounds continued without end, like some invisible thing continuously cracking apart.

“Before I undid the drug’s effects.”

Salaar suddenly spoke, his voice somewhat tense. “Those things I said to you…”

[I must love you very much.]

[So this is only a willful and childish confession.]

Those words abruptly surfaced from his memory. Myss was nailed firmly in place, his fingers playing with his hair subconsciously stopping.

He didn’t know what expression he made, but that expression must have been very far from “I don’t care.”

“Of course I remember.”

Myss advanced two steps and used both arms to tightly lock around Salaar’s back, attacking him doubly with an embrace. In this posture, he could just hide his own out-of-control expression.

He discovered that his body was trembling slightly. His muscles shivered with excitement. Was this the taste of victory, or the pleasure of conquest? Myss couldn’t tell clearly. He only felt that he was being burned by invisible flames.

“You went to so much trouble to prove it to me. I can only believe it. You, who do everything to end the Night Scourge, actually fell in love with the source of the Night Scourge.”

Myss couldn’t help raising his head and snickering twice. “What a pity. Great Hero, no, Great Traitor Mr. Salaar, I can’t possibly fall in love with you.”

Salaar didn’t react. He only lowered his gaze and stared at him as before.

Contrary to Myss’s expectations, there was no sadness or defeat in Salaar’s eyes. Instead, they were even softer than the hero cushion.

Myss was a little dissatisfied. Salaar had said that “falling in love with him” was the most frightening thing, yet Myss couldn’t see where this guy was afraid.

He tightened his arms harder and finally noticed Salaar’s abnormality. Salaar was also trembling slightly. Unfortunately, Myss had never seen Salaar tremble from fear, and he couldn’t be certain whether this trembling came from terror or something else.

Not enough. Still not enough.

Myss wanted to squeeze out sharper words, to mock how miserable and stupid this feeling was, to make this remarkable victory even more exhilarating.

But wrapped tightly in Salaar’s gaze, by the time the words reached his mouth, they turned into a short mumble.

“…Idiot.”

His voice was even softer than Myss had expected, practically without the slightest offensive power.

Salaar smiled.

Since stepping into this tower, for the first time, his brows and eyes curved, carrying a feeling that was hard to describe.

“I suppose I am,” he said fairly, unconsciously leaning against the cold machine behind him.

“Only, there are some things that can’t be avoided just by ‘possessing wisdom.’ So you must use your cruelest attitude and do the thing that pains me most.”

Salaar seemed to realize his instinctive movement, and he quickly stood up straight.

Under Myss’s focused gaze, Salaar’s smile gradually settled, becoming something heavier, very much like the dust accumulated on the machinery.

“…You must accompany me until the final moment, Myss.”

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