A Contract Between Enemies Ch103

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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


Chapter 103: A Special Gaze

The good news: for the time being, they didn’t need to deal with more humans.

Even better news: never mind potential assassins, even they themselves didn’t know where they were.

And finally, the best news of all: Owen was useless, and Peyton was only human. Those two had no idea what kind of strength they possessed. Salaar’s mind was stuck in his youth, and Father Kalen was an extraordinary kind-hearted soul.

At this moment, he, Myss, was the true ruler here in every sense!

Myss’s mood immediately improved quite a bit. Not even the damp, rotten stench of the swamp could dampen his spirits. Salaar silently moved beside him, keeping a distance that was neither close nor far.

“Can the task really continue? As far as I know, the sites for the ‘Journey to the Old Lands’ are carefully chosen. Are there really similar ruins near us?”

The Dragon Fae flew out of the pocket watch and stood on Myss’s shoulder.

No matter how calculating the great nobles were, they wouldn’t send their descendants to die for nothing.

In the “Journey to the Old Lands,” they not only equipped their young people with exceptionally capable assistants and prepared ample supplies, they also chose ruins of moderate danger in advance. Put plainly, this event was about the same as “hunting,” only it was a luxurious adventure for noble scions.

“Y-yeah.” Owen was the first to retreat. “I’ll contact the outside first and see if there are any confirmed ruins nearby. Right, and supplies… We also need supplies…”

“I grabbed the luggage when I jumped out. There shouldn’t be any problem with food for the time being.”

Father Kalen patted the bits of grass off himself, then patted the backpack at his side.

Owen ignored him. He pulled a communication crystal out of his pocket. Unfortunately, a deep crack ran across the crystal. Owen nervously tapped at it for a long time, but the crystal showed no movement.

Peyton shook his head. “A teleportation error like the one just now will make precision magic devices malfunction. They need to be readjusted before they can be used.”

“Then aren’t we trapped here?”

Owen was sweating like rain, his face turning even paler. “I heard many places in Mondicia are uninhabited zones. Now we’ve lost contact, and we don’t have much in the way of supplies. What task are we supposed to do?”

“The God of Discipline has granted us a trial. Such a test is far superior to a carefully arranged amusement park.”

Peyton spoke slowly, sounding not the least bit anxious.

Damn it, I forgot this guy is an ascetic monk.

Owen cast a hopeless glance at Salaar. Salaar was calm and unruffled, merely quietly following beside Myss, very much fitting his claim of “following his master.”

“Forget it. With such a huge commotion, the family must know something happened to us. Mag is so powerful, she can calculate where we were thrown… Someone will definitely come save us…”

Owen comforted himself, casually twisting a withered tree root from beside him to use as a walking stick.

“Since there’s no need to participate in the event anymore, do a divination.” Myss turned toward Kalen. “You know what I’m talking about.”

Kalen nodded.

Hearing the word “divination,” hope ignited in Owen’s eyes. “This priest is skilled in divination magic? Wonderful. If we head in the luckiest direction, there definitely won’t be any problem!”

Myss: “…”

No, they were preparing to head in the most ominous direction.

Previously, the priest had said there was ill fortune near the Crimson Marsh. Since they had already come all this way, it would be too much of a loss not to dig out an Abnormal Fruit while they were at it. They could look for a way out along the way too.

The priest nodded readily.

He deliberately placed the two hands with rings behind his back and closed his eyes in a very convincing “sensing” posture for a while. “Southwest.”

After saying this, he opened his eyes and swept an inquisitive gaze over everyone, mainly looking at their nominal supervisor, Peyton.

“This is your task. You make the decision,” Peyton said lightly.

Owen’s face was full of delight. “We need to leave here quickly. If we encounter one of those high-risk ruins, things will become troublesome.”

Salaar: “High-risk ruins?”

Owen glared at him as if looking at an idiot. “You don’t know? Mondicia’s Night Scourge ruins are especially well preserved. Alchemy from that era was quite strange. Who knows how many alchemical monsters they created.”

“I saw one in Serpentis’ black market. That thing was only the size of a housecat, but its tail could shatter a person’s head.”

Halfway through speaking, Owen tried to climb down from the tree root. The moment the tip of his shoe touched the swamp, the patch of wet mud seemed to come alive, opening its mouth and sucking at his boot, intending to swallow Owen whole.

Owen was so frightened that he pulled his foot back and tightly clung to the roots of the giant tree. Forget any direction forward, he couldn’t even take the first step.

Owen looked toward Peyton for help, while Peyton silently looked at Salaar. Salaar pondered for a few seconds, then very naturally tugged at Myss’s clothes. “Lord Myss, please send us down.”

Myss shivered from being called that.

He threw Salaar a complicated look and was just about to act when he saw Father Kalen consciously break off a large pile of withered roots and throw them onto the swamp below.

The aquatic grass on the swamp was flattened by the dead branches. It no longer looked as ferocious as muddy soup, but it wasn’t exactly inviting.

“When I was on the tree, I looked around. There’s land over there.”

The priest said warmly, “As long as you use the right kind of force, you can cross by stepping on these things. Remember to take small quick steps. Don’t step straight down and be careful not to trip over the tree roots.”

Myss tucked “Brave Salaar” into his arms and secured it tightly with his belt.

Immediately after, he sighed, walked in front of Salaar, and somewhat reluctantly turned around. “Get on.”

Salaar: “What?”

“‘You’ can’t use magic and aren’t exactly athletic. This is the fastest way.” Myss snorted. “Hurry up and get on. So annoying. Or do you want your ‘brothers’ to carry you down?”

The moment Myss thought that this Salaar might treat him and the likes of Peyton as equal subjects of observation, his whole body felt uncomfortable. Moreover, having him “control” Salaar was the most obvious way to display power, at least that was what Myss told himself.

Facing Myss, whose build was a whole size smaller than his own, Salaar gestured with both hands for a while and for a moment didn’t know where to start. Myss grew impatient from waiting. He abruptly turned his back, wrapped both arms around him, and barely managed to carry Salaar on his back.

Salaar’s body was solid, and Myss’s shoulders weren’t broad enough, making the carrying posture exceptionally awkward. Myss gritted his teeth and directly jumped onto the swamp.

The moment he stepped on those grass leaves, his magic threads swiftly took shape beneath the muddy water. They formed an invisible dense net, the ends fixed onto nearby tree trunks, making it quite solid to step on.

Thus, Lord Archdemon carried the large Salaar and sprinted rapidly in a rather undignified posture, like a wildcat fleeing with a large fish in its mouth.

The moment he stepped onto firm ground, Myss silently withdrew his magic threads. However, Salaar was too heavy, and Myss couldn’t brake as calmly as before, causing the two of them to tumble into the grass.

Salaar twisted his body in time, letting Myss fall on top of him. Lying once again on his familiar hero cushion, with his head pressed against Salaar’s chest, Myss went dazed for several seconds.

Only after a long while did he prop himself up and glared at Salaar. “…Listen, I just hate trouble.”

If the Karns family didn’t have such immense influence and truly could cause them trouble, Myss wouldn’t mind directly burying those two outsiders in the swamp.

Salaar stared fixedly at Myss, as if looking at something he completely couldn’t understand.

“What kind of attitude is that? I only carried you once,” Myss muttered, trying to get up.

“…”

Salaar reached out with both hands, his warm palms cupping Myss’s cheeks. This forced him to stop moving and continue lying on Salaar’s chest.

“…Why are you looking at me like that?”

Myss was baffled. “How am I looking at you?”

Young Salaar had no shortage of nonsense either. Wasn’t Myss just looking with the two eyes on his face? How else was he supposed to look?

He had always looked at Salaar this way. As for other humans… other humans weren’t worth him looking at properly. Myss admitted that he hadn’t been happy lately and had indeed been ignoring the young Salaar, but this guy’s reaction seemed excessive.

Hearing Myss’s confusion, Salaar’s expression stiffened slightly.

He didn’t answer at once. He only lightly brushed the pads of his thumbs over Myss’s eyebrows and eyelids. It was almost like a blind person stroking a gorgeous relief, trying to understand a world he had never imagined and could hardly imagine.

Salaar’s palms weren’t delicate. They had the tiny scars left behind by Kendrick, as well as the thin calluses developed by Hero Salaar’s training. They gently combed over Myss’s eyebrows, the sensation somewhat cool.

Myss still looked at Salaar suspiciously, wanting to know what was wrong with this guy. Being touched made him somewhat uncomfortable. He sensed a trace of subtle hesitation and cherishing from the touch, emotions that felt out of place in this moment.

“Nothing.” In the end, Salaar slowly withdrew his hands.

Myss irritably shoved Salaar’s hands aside. “If it’s nothing, then hurry up and get up.”

He zipped to the side and vigorously patted the dust from his clothes, trying to pat away that inexplicable discomfort just now as well.

The second to arrive was the priest.

Seeing that Myss and the others had successfully made it, Father Kalen braced himself against the tree trunk and flew over with a leap. The Dragon Fae tugged at the back of his collar, happily hitching a ride.

Owen dawdled on the tree for a long time. Finally, out of patience, Peyton bound him with his Magibase python and slithered along the flattened grass leaves. Peyton himself formed pale blue magic platforms underfoot and elegantly strolled over.

“If we can’t even walk properly, how are we supposed to find the ruins?”

Owen staggered two steps forward, then his foot lurched. Clearly, he had stepped into another swamp pit hidden beneath the grass.

Then he looked at the surrounding trees. The lush trunks completely blocked out the sunlight, and countless vines hung between the branches, lightly swaying like nooses. No matter how one looked at it, the scene felt deeply ominous.

And then there were the human faces on the ground… human faces?

Owen once again displayed his rare talent, using a piercing scream to draw everyone’s attention.

“A face!” Owen backed up several steps and nearly tripped over a tree root protruding from the ground. “There’s a human face over there!”

Myss hurriedly craned his neck to look.

The human face was seven or eight steps away from them, embedded between the dark wet mud. Its skin was deathly pale, its eyes wide open, and a faint smile still hung at the corners of its mouth. At first glance, it was easy to mistake it for a white mushroom or a clean stone.

That face had no smell of decay, nor any trace of rotting. Myss sensed it for a moment. It emitted extremely faint magic, so faint it was barely perceptible.

…An intact human face appearing in an uninhabited area? Interesting.

Seeing Salaar standing in place without moving, Peyton sighed. “Don’t lower your guard. I’ll go take a look.”

“If I were you, I wouldn’t go over.”

The moment Peyton took his first step, Salaar spoke at just the right time. “That’s not a human face.”

Owen almost choked on his own saliva. “What did you say?”

“Its eyes and lips are all upside down.” Salaar said. “At least, I have never seen a person with a face like that —”

Before his voice had finished falling, that face’s eyes rolled, staring straight at the group.


The author has something to say:

Salaar: If I confess directly to my archenemy, I’m afraid he won’t believe it. Then I’ll demonstrate it physically again. [OK]

This arc will peel Salaar’s onion layers. (?


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

A Contract Between Enemies Ch102

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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


Chapter 102: Teleportation Error

Even after sitting in the Karns family carriage, Myss still couldn’t shake the confusion lingering in his mind.

He wouldn’t communicate with Him? He wouldn’t communicate with Him…? Then what did those three hundred-plus years of harassment count as? Did Salaar’s brain go wrong from having too much free time?

But no matter how Myss thought about it, he couldn’t remember when he had first dealt with Salaar. His newborn consciousness had been too ignorant. Perhaps only Salaar knew what had happened.

Still, better to focus on the task at hand.

Myss continued flipping through the picture book. He lowered his head, using his bangs and eyelashes to cover his diffused pupils.

With outsiders present, Brief and Bedsheet Archdemon didn’t leave the book. The two of them only secretly changed scenes whenever Myss turned the pages, hiding inside the simple doodles of small houses, trees, or grass to peek.

Myss could make out extremely subtle magic fluctuations. Unfortunately, the “Sea of Concepts” backdoor was unusually complex, like a ball of thread that had been tangled through countless layers. He would have to spend time carefully unraveling and analyzing it little by little.

Though he didn’t know how long it would take, it was still better than clinging to a murky memory. Myss studied the book intently, until some blind fool opened his mouth.

“A children’s picture book? This is how you’re learning about the Karns family?” Owen sneered.

No. I’m learning how to blow the human world apart, Myss thought, casting a hostile gaze towards Owen.

Right now, as “Kendrick’s lover,” Myss was riding in the same luxurious carriage as Salaar, Peyton, and Owen. Poor Father Kalen, as an “assistant,” had to ride in the transport carriage reserved for assistants and servants.

Myss sat beside Salaar, while Peyton and Owen sat opposite them. Peyton had been quietly looking out the window the whole time. His face remained calm, making it impossible to read his thoughts.

“If I’d known assistant spots were this worthless, I would’ve found some girl to bring along.”

Seeing that neither Myss nor Salaar responded, Owen continued venting his dissatisfaction. “Both spots were taken by you. Grandfather really doesn’t care about Peyton’s feelings at all.”

“It can’t be helped, because I’m pitifully weak. At least Peyton and you can still use magic, while I can only rely on Myss and the others.”

Young Salaar was fairly practiced at acting, and his gestures had become much more vivid.

“Besides, Tass Ga is here too. He counts as half your subordinate. And our genius Peyton has no need for assistants at all… In my view, Grandfather is perfectly fair.”

“I haven’t had anything to do with him for a long time!”

“That Dragon Fae is useless!”

Tass and Owen spoke almost simultaneously. The Dragon Fae poked half his body out of the pocket watch gemstone and carved Owen up with a gaze that seemed to say, “idiot former employer.”

Seeing that Owen actually dared glare back, Tass reached out and viciously made a throat-cutting gesture at Owen. Owen drew a long face and, in the end, turned away in weakness.

The carriage finally quieted down.

“…You’ve changed a great deal, Kendrick.”

Who would have thought that, only a few seconds after Owen quieted down, Peyton would instead take the initiative to speak?

With this initiative from him, even Owen was startled. Myss’s attention scattered. He pretended to read while secretly pricking up his ears.

“You haven’t changed much,” Salaar said, choosing his words carefully.

“Everything for the glory of the God of Cadence.”

The corners of Peyton’s mouth moved, as if he wanted to smile but failed. “The last time we spoke like this, it was still…”

“Your eyepatch is rather nice,” Myss cut in.

Damn it, how could Salaar possibly know about any “last conversation”?

The current Salaar, like Myss, could only count as a third party who had heard the story. He didn’t have Kendrick’s pile of mush-like memories. Myss decided he had to intervene.

“Shameless bastard. You actually have the nerve to mention that.” Owen’s expression was ugly.

“This is the ‘Mark of Cadence.’ The four diamonds symbolize the four seasons, and the circle at the center symbolizes the sun.”

Peyton’s gaze turned toward Myss. He generously untied the black cloth eyepatch and handed it in front of Myss.

Only when Myss leaned closer could he see that what surrounded the circle were four arrow-like diamonds, half short and half long. Their shorter ends surrounded the circle, looking from afar like an “X.” Calling it a sun seemed a bit of a stretch.

Compared to this Mark of Cadence or whatever, Myss cared more about the eye behind the eyepatch.

Peyton’s right eyeball had been completely destroyed. Only shriveled skin and uneven, raised scars remained around the eye socket. Paired with that gentle face, the scars looked especially shocking.

Even Myss knew that to achieve such an effect, it definitely couldn’t have been a “careless attack” made in a rage.

The Karns family certainly didn’t lack alchemical potions, and they surely also had healing magic. For scars like this to remain, one could see just how severe Peyton’s injury had been back then.

When Kendrick had attacked him, he must have known very clearly what he was doing.

Myss couldn’t help looking at Peyton a couple more times.

According to Mag, Kendrick should have been around fifteen then, while Peyton had just come of age. The next year, Kendrick was sent by the Karns family to Ring Town, and from then on, he never had contact with Peyton again.

Looking at it this way, after four or five years, enemies meeting again, Peyton’s temper was good to an extraordinary degree.

…But then again, could a teenage Kendrick who couldn’t use magic really do this much in a direct attack against an adult magical genius?

In the seal, even when Myss used tentacles to poke Salaar’s nostrils, that kid could dodge nimbly. Peyton didn’t look stupid. How could he have been that slow?

“I no longer mind.”

Perhaps because Myss had stared at the scar for too long, Peyton withdrew the eyepatch and tied it back over his right eye. “All this was tempering sent down by the God of Cadence.”

“Oh,” Myss said dryly.

He suddenly realized that he had no obligation to maintain Salaar’s disguise. Some deeply rooted thing, almost like a “protective instinct,” had ambushed his head just now.

The most urgent matter was researching how to open a Divine Realm backdoor. He couldn’t be bothered to dig into the schemes and infighting of human nobles.

Salaar looked at Myss, then at Peyton, and suddenly said, “This place is so far from Mondicia. Are we just taking a carriage there?”

“Idiot. We’re going through a transport teleportation array.”

Owen sneered. “Oh, a place like Ring Town wouldn’t have such nice things. Clearly staying in the countryside for four years has rotted your brain.”

“Mm, I drank quite a lot of homemade potions these past few years, so I have indeed forgotten many things.”

Salaar said calmly. “To be honest, I almost even forgot your face. After all, it really has no value.”

The Dragon Fae gave a snort from inside the pocket watch, while Owen was so angry his eyes rolled white.

Sure enough, young Salaar was still Salaar. Myss couldn’t help sweeping his gaze over Salaar.

Salaar was hinting that “Kendrick has forgotten many details of the past,” which spared Myss from having to jump out and interrupt the conversation again.

“Then I’ll have to take good care of a country bumpkin like you.”

Owen still wouldn’t verbally relent. “When we go through the teleportation array later, don’t fiddle with those alchemical potions of yours again. The teleportation array is a precise thing. If there’s magical interference, who knows where we’ll be thrown.”

Salaar shrugged, acknowledging the remark.

After that, his gaze began sliding back and forth over Myss again. Myss lowered his head and continued reading, firmly deciding not to respond.

Then Myss discovered that when Salaar’s gaze circled around him, he couldn’t read a single word.

After that, Myss wanted to sleep for a while, only to discover that he didn’t want to be too close to the current Salaar. Even though he knew that was Salaar, even though the hero cushion’s feel hadn’t changed at all, he simply could not find his previous emotions.

They were only differences as small as snowflakes, yet they accumulated between them, building a heavier and heavier chill.

…The ridiculous thing was, perhaps their circumstances were remarkably similar.

Young Salaar knew that “Myss” was his enemy, knew that “Myss” was related to the Chaos Archdemon, and knew the Chaos Archdemon might be a living being.

But young Salaar’s attitude toward the “stranger Myss” was exactly like Myss’s attitude toward “young Salaar.” Both were missing the same thing; something warm, soft, and light.

How strange. Clearly, their starting point nor their endpoint hadn’t changed.

Myss grew irritated and snapped the book shut.

The impact echoed inside the carriage decorated with gilt reliefs and red velvet. A tiny squeak came from between the pages. Brief and Bedsheet Archdemon seemed to have been frightened.

Salaar’s secretly peeking gaze shrank back as well, exactly like a snail withdrawing its feelers.

The carriage slowly stopped, and a man dressed like a mage knocked on their carriage window. “Good afternoon, everyone. The teleportation point is just ahead. The carriage compartment needs to undergo a magic artifact inspection.”

“During teleportation, all activated magic artifacts must be shut down. Please don’t use magic. Please don’t take or apply alchemical potions. Certain magic artifacts and potions must be confiscated…”

He recited in a businesslike tone and extended a slender black wand into the carriage. The end of that magic device swelled slightly and moved, looking very much like the wet nose of a large dog.

“…Very good, no issues. Apologies for disturbing you, my lords.” The man gave a tired salute and waved. “Next carriage!”

The scenery outside the carriage slowly receded, and the carriage began moving forward again.

This should be the “interference prevention” Owen had just mentioned. It seemed that the consequences of interfering with a teleportation array were truly quite severe.

Myss wondered whether using annihilation magic during teleportation could directly send them back into the seal. Amid the gradually strengthening magic fluctuations, Myss couldn’t help imagining it.

Suddenly, the carriage compartment shook violently without stopping.

Amid the chaos, Salaar reflexively hugged Myss and shielded him between his body and the soft carriage seat. Young Salaar was startled by his own subconscious movement, and his body tensed harder than stone. Myss wasn’t much better, stiffening into a specimen on the spot.

The scenery outside the window abruptly vanished, turning into a terrifying pure white.

“Oh no!” Owen’s scream nearly pierced Myss’s eardrums.

“Sit tight! Don’t use magic or magic artifacts or we’ll deviate even farther!” Peyton shouted sharply, both hands gripping the edges of the seat.

Just when Myss was shaken to the point of nearly vomiting, the carriage finally stopped.

Myss took several gasps for breath and immediately looked outside. The area outside the window was packed with green. All kinds of green were like flames, burning close against the carriage window. They were packed too tightly, and sunlight couldn’t reach the carriage, leaving the inside dim as night.

And… and everything outside the window seemed to be slowly rising.

“It’s a swamp. The carriage is sinking.” Peyton raised his hand. The giant python coiled, blasting the carriage door clean off its hinges.

In Myss’s eyes, that python went from translucent to solid. Peyton actually didn’t mind letting his Magibase materialize, exposing it before everyone.

“Grab that snake and get out!” Peyton shoved Owen, who was closest to him, out, then reached a hand toward Salaar. “Hurry. The carriage is sinking too fast.”

Salaar didn’t touch that hand. He backhandedly gripped Myss’s wrist and neatly crossed the carriage door, half-hugging that giant python.

The giant python twisted its body. Carrying the three people hanging from it, it easily sprang in a certain direction. Grass leaves slapped wildly against Myss’s face. After a brief sting of pain, brilliant sunlight scattered down.

The giant python wrapped itself around a large tree and left the people hanging from it beneath the tree.

The roots of this tree were tangled and exceptionally thick. They were like hollow lace umbrellas favored by noble ladies, steadily inverted above the weed-filled swamp. Owen sat down on a tree root, his face deathly pale, and there was now a foul smell of sweat on his body.

Peyton followed by jumping over along the snake’s tail. His movement was almost elegant, and his plain black robe hadn’t even touched a blade of grass.

“I’ve lived this long, and this is the first time I’ve ever encountered a teleportation array error. Kendrick really is an unlucky bastard, damn it.”

Owen panted heavily, still badly shaken. “Such a strong smell of blood. The coachman and horses probably got swept into the turbulence…”

“Judging from the vegetation here, this is Mondicia, but I can’t determine our exact location… Who’s there?” Peyton suddenly raised his voice, and his Magibase abruptly vanished into the air.

A sound of something cutting through the air came, and an enormous black shadow smashed into the tree trunk.

Myss’s magic threads had quietly reached his fingertips, then reluctantly withdrew. For no other reason than that he recognized this “attacker.”

“Thank goodness, I made it.”

The burly priest hugged the thick tree trunk and let out a heavy breath of relief.

Everyone: “…”

Tass was stunned. “Weren’t you in the carriage behind us?”

“I saw your carriage undergo an abnormality, so I got out and jumped over.”

The priest hurriedly explained, “Just now I was lying on top of the carriage roof, so I didn’t have time to say hello.”

“No wonder that damned carriage sank so fast!” Tass slapped his forehead.

Peyton’s brows twitched. “You endured the teleportation error with your body?”

Father Kalen nodded solemnly. “My constitution is very good.”

Peyton gave him a long look but didn’t question him.

He pondered for a moment, then turned toward Salaar and Myss. “There are many ruins within Mondicia. I suggest that we search for a way out while proceeding with our own ‘Journey to the Old Lands.’”

“The task continues,” he said.


The author has something to say:

Now it has turned into a wilderness adventure, difficulty +1000.

Guess who the culprit is? [doge emoji]


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

A Contract Between Enemies Ch101

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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


Chapter 101: Journey to the Old Lands

In a rare moment, Salaar hesitated.

He looked at the tightly shut door, then at Myss in front of the fireplace. Only after a long while did he speak. “If you have something to say, say it tomorrow.”

Outside the door, there was silence for a few seconds. “I only came to convey Grandfather’s words.”

“Owen admitted that he smeared ‘Return to Youth’ on your cutlery. Although we don’t know how you avoided the drug’s effect, Grandfather asked me to bring you the antidote.”

“Since it’s inconvenient for you, I will leave the antidote at your door.”

Peyton’s tone was ordinary. It was hard to tell whether this was because his personality was indifferent, or because he had long grown used to “Kendrick’s” ways. After the soft sound of a metal tray touching the floor, Peyton’s footsteps gradually receded.

Before Salaar had time to stand, Myss turned into a blur and shot toward the door with a bang. Lord Archdemon opened the door at a dazzling speed and grabbed the small bottle from the tray.

In the blink of an eye, Myss changed direction, slammed into Salaar, and pressed him straight onto the bed.

Black magic threads instantly extended, binding Salaar’s limbs firmly to the four posts of the bed. Myss sat on Salaar’s stomach with a stern face and pulled the stopper from the little medicine bottle. The mouth of the bottle made a soft pop, and the wooden stopper silently rolled onto the carpet.

The magic threads brushed over his skin, and Salaar’s pupils abruptly widened. “The aura of the Chaos Archdemon.”

A moment later, he narrowed his eyes again. “No, not right. The aura is somewhat weak. What are you? …A Night Scrouge worshiper who consumed excessive magic source? Or perhaps a Divine Attendant of the Chaos Archdemon?”

Myss ignored him completely.

His power hadn’t fully recovered. To explain the situation clearly, he would have to describe all those damned previous events in full detail, and in the end, this Salaar might not even believe him. He had no intention of rushing to explain things to this guy.

Myss worked hard to sniff that opaque bottle. The liquid inside had a very faint scent, only an uncomfortable sweet fragrance. It didn’t smell like something that could be swallowed.

“I suggest you don’t feed me that.”

Seeing that Myss said nothing, Salaar immediately changed topics. “At the dinner, I said there was no need to stop the kill order. That sentence didn’t specify when it would take effect. Someone may exploit that loophole.”

“If that truly is the antidote… as you said, the me from three hundred years later is ‘more useful.’ For you, this is also an opportunity, an opportunity to avoid being watched by ‘the me from three hundred years later.’”

Myss’s movements paused slightly.

He lowered his eyes and stared into those lapis-lazuli eyes. Young Salaar’s eyes were blank, making him think of… a very long time ago.

Myss actually had some impression of Salaar in this state.

Only, back then, Myss hadn’t yet developed true consciousness. He only knew to take everything into his sight unconditionally. Those memories were like something seen through a thick layer of ice, stiff and blurry.

But he remembered that Salaar, when he had just entered the darkness, neither sang off-key songs nor harassed his tentacles.

Of course, Salaar would give the army the most perfect commands and look after every human’s condition and daily life… but Salaar didn’t really have friends. He had always lived all alone.

Once, Salaar buried a companion who had taken their own life. He had lain like this atop the barren graveyard, instinctively looking toward the abyss-like “sky,” lying there for half the day.

Myss, who had not yet gained consciousness, had also instinctively looked down at this lonely person. At the time, Myss couldn’t even tell whether that was a human or a corpse.

…Did Salaar voluntarily drink “Return to Youth” truly only to make things difficult for him?

Perhaps that guy wanted to prove something through this, or had hidden some other scheme. He couldn’t simply waste this opportunity. There were indeed things he could do.

Myss climbed off Salaar’s body but didn’t untie him.

“You’re right.” He moved back to the fireplace and said stiffly, “You turning into this wretched state is a good opportunity for me.”

Myss stuffed the antidote into an inner pocket and wrapped himself back into the quilt.

He once again recalled the “ink hole,” attempting to return to his true body again. Unfortunately, after recalling for a long while, the memories from back then were like sand between his fingers. The harder he tried to remember, the more indistinct the details became.

In a full five minutes of recollection, all Myss remembered was Salaar interrupting him with bites and kisses, and he grew angry for a while.

No, he couldn’t continue blindly relying on instinct, Myss thought.

Since he had gained intelligence, he should make good use of this new ability. Back then, he had nearly succeeded, proving that, in theory, a way to bypass the seal existed.

If memory was unreliable, he could properly study that copy of ‘Brave Salaar’ and find out the exact principle behind the “Sea of Concepts” backdoor.

The quilt bundle slowly moved to the luggage rack. Myss stretched out one hand and fumbled through the air for a long while. Only then did he remember that ‘Brave Salaar’ and their luggage were both with the priest.

He could only talk about it tomorrow. Myss unhappily sighed.

He wrapped himself up with the quilt and moved toward the fireplace like a snail. Without proper business to focus on, that “sadness” like a stomach full of gooseberries surged up again.

Fork moved around in his pocket. Myss moved around inside the quilt, unhappily punching the air.

“Let me go.” Seeing Myss wriggling back and forth on the carpet, Salaar finally spoke.

Myss pretended not to hear.

“Before I understand the situation, I won’t harm you,” Salaar said sincerely.

“You already said we’re enemies. Do I need a reason to tie up an enemy?” Myss snorted.

Salaar: “…”

He quieted as if giving up and didn’t speak again.

Myss curled up in front of the fireplace and closed his eyes drowsily. In the end, fire was still different from a person’s body heat. Myss didn’t sleep well all night and had a whole night of messy, fragmented dreams.

Early the next morning.

“Tsk tsk tsk, the potion wore off?”

Seeing the binding marks on Salaar’s wrists and the bluish shadows beneath Myss’s eyes, the Dragon Fae nearly bit his tongue off.

“No.” Myss snapped.

The Dragon Fae raised his brows. He flew in a circle around Myss, keenly sensing that something was wrong.

So he shook his wings hard and pretended the previous topic had never existed. “After you two left yesterday, Miss Queenie said ‘Kendrick’ seemed off and suspected someone had tampered with the dinner.”

“Peyton exposed Owen’s guilty conscience, and Ratliff, the old man who is the family head, docked Owen’s allowance and had Peyton deliver the antidote for ‘Return to Youth’ to you.”

“The antidote is with me. Anyway, someone can handle it himself, so he can undo it whenever he wants.”

Myss snorted but still stuffed the bottle of antidote to the priest. “Check whether there’s poison in it. Give it back to me after you identify it.”

Father Kalen readily accepted the medicine bottle.

“…Also, they decided on three tasks.”

The Dragon Fae continued.

“First, stay in the Aufon Kingdom, go to the border to deal with runaway wolf packs, and bring back five hundred personally processed wolf pelts by the end of the year.”

“There aren’t many months left before the end of the year, and the environment over there is especially terrible. This job is purely suffering. The priest and I don’t recommend it.”

“Second, go to Evening Star City in Atla, deal with the Karns family members there, and audit their accounts. After returning, your results will be compared with another group of auditors.”

“This one is theoretically much easier and won’t take too long. However, if the kill order isn’t canceled, the people there are very likely to assist in the assassination.”

“As for the third…”

When he reached this point, the Dragon Fae and Father Kalen exchanged a glance, his voice lowering a little. “Participate in the ‘Journey to the Old Lands’ in the Crimson Marsh and retrieve at least one artifact related to Saint Salaar.”

Myss: “What thing?”

Salaar’s brows twitched, and he raised his head as well.

Tass sighed. “Journey to the Old Lands. It’s an exploration event that has long been popular among great nobles.”

“The Crimson Marsh is in Mondicia. That country’s environment is dreadful. Very few people build cities over there, so many ruins from the Night Scourge period remain.”

“These great nobles are basically all descendants of important figures from the Night Scourge era. They like having their younger generations participate in this to temper them, form connections, and remember the glory of their families… things like that.”

Myss roughly understood.

The first task had no social pressure, but it was extremely boring and purely a waste of time.

The second task was a human social hell, and they would have to worry about endless assassinations like summer mosquitoes.

The third… The amount of socializing was fairly moderate, and assassination wasn’t that convenient. The greatest danger was the harsh environment, but what Myss cared least about was a harsh environment. Moreover, he would have a chance to discover some secrets of the Night Scourge.

“The third one.” Myss didn’t hesitate.

Father Kalen let out a breath and revealed an expression of relief. “I agree.”

The priest was actually this proactive. Myss couldn’t help raising his brows. “Why?”

“Last night, Tass told me the three tasks, and I did divinations on each. There is a great ominous presence near the Crimson Marsh, and it’s very likely related to V.O.R. Also…”

The priest hesitated for a moment, then continued, “Also, these past few days, I have been investigating the Stargazers Society.”

“I discovered that they have a fanatical obsession with ‘collecting knowledge from the Night Scourge era.’ There must be many Stargazers hidden over there in the Crimson Marsh. I have things I want to ask them.”

That masked person had said the exact same words as Hermit. That was absolutely not a coincidence.

The prayer of the Order of Shadows had been buried in the black hole together with that knowledge. Since the Stargazers Society was obsessed with collecting them, they most likely also knew something about the Order of Shadows.

A trip to the Crimson Marsh would be killing two birds with one stone, including the search for Hermit.

Myss’s brows rose higher and higher. “The divination result was ‘ominous’? Why didn’t you say so just now?”

“Because this is your private matter, and it concerns both of your lives. I have no right to encourage you to make a choice for my own benefit,” Kalen shook his head.

“Of course, if you had chosen the first or second, I would have gone to the Crimson Marsh with this guy one step ahead,” Tass timely added. “After all, with your abilities, the first two tasks can’t threaten you.”

“…I also agree to accept the third task.”

Only after listening to everyone’s conversation did Salaar speak.

Myss only felt as if something light and sticky had stuck behind his ear. He reached out and scratched, but there was nothing on his skin. Then he turned his head and happened to meet those hateful lapis-lazuli eyes.

Salaar was watching him as always. Even though this gaze had returned, Myss still didn’t feel satisfied.

It was still different. That gaze was missing something crucial.

Lord Archdemon turned his head back and walked toward the Karns family dining room with his chest high, preparing to accept the task early and leave.

……

“What?!” Owen shouted.

“Grandfather said that since Kendrick wants to participate in the ‘Journey to the Old Lands,’ you will go with him,” Peyton said calmly. “This year, the Karns family happens to have three spots.”

“And aside from Kendrick, you are the one most in need of tempering, my dear brother.” Queenie cut the fish on her plate, her tone faintly gloating.

A vein burst on Owen’s forehead. “Queenie!”

“Think of it positively. At least it will be most convenient for you to assassinate him. After all, ‘each family may bring up to two assistants.’” Queenie laughed softly. “Don’t you think so, Cousin Magnolia?”

Magnolia didn’t  respond. She kept her head down and ate, as if the fried egg on her plate were a once-in-a-millennium wonder.

Queenie curved the corner of her mouth and shook her head with a smile.

“Grandfather already gave the assistant spots to that hateful slave and that priest of unknown origin. This is punishment, damn it!”

Owen waved his knife and fork in dissatisfaction, even though Myss and Father Kalen were dining at the table.

While complaining, he secretly glanced at Salaar and Peyton at the table.

Salaar was eating breakfast unhurriedly, completely ignoring him. Peyton also chewed without raising his head, as if this were only an ordinary morning.

Among everyone present, only Myss’s expression was about as foul as Owen’s.

“The kill order has already taken effect now. You all just wait.” Owen finished eating his bacon as if being tortured and left only this sentence behind.

After the meal, Myss retrieved that copy of ‘Brave Salaar’ from Kalen, preparing to carry it with him and study it intensively.

On the premise, of course, that someone didn’t stick close after the meal.

“Your hair is messy,” Salaar said.

“Because you were the one taking care of it before.”

Myss had no luggage to prepare. He returned to the fireplace again, warming himself by the fire, basking in the sunlight, and aiming his back at Salaar.

Salaar was silent for a while. He picked up a comb and sat on the carpet in front of the fireplace. His fingertips slid over the dense comb teeth, and he stared fixedly at Myss’s lapis-lazuli hair ribbon.

It was the same color as his eyes, specially adorned with delicate stone beads. One could see that the person who had modified it had put considerable care into it. Moreover, the way it had been stitched was clearly his own handiwork.

“Why do I comb your hair?” Salaar asked.

“How would I know?” Myss said. “You might as well ask yourself. Your combing technique is so practiced. It’s not the first time.”

“As far as I know, this is something only done between family members or lovers.” Salaar thought for a moment. “May I comb it for you?”

“Suit yourself.” Myss lowered his head and studied the picture book.

He didn’t want to pay attention to Salaar, but having messy hair also annoyed Myss. Compared to the Dragon Fae, the priest, or some random servant helping, Myss would rather let Salaar comb it.

Salaar’s fingers gently touched his hair, then swiftly withdrew, before touching it again. After that, the comb teeth gently sank into the gray-white hair, and faint light drifted with the comb.

Myss’s braid became neat, but his thoughts were somewhat chaotic.

Young Salaar had determined that he was related to the Chaos Archdemon, and his gaze had begun following him again. Young Salaar’s hair-combing technique was practiced, and the size of his hands hadn’t changed… Yet, at this moment, they were still enemies.

Clearly, nothing had changed, yet Myss felt that it wasn’t quite the same. The various details of how he and Salaar got along had now become subtle and unfamiliar.

The air in the room grew heavier and heavier, and Myss felt a little stifled. He instinctively wanted to do something to break free from this sticky silence.

“You said that you used to belong to the ‘Magic Interference faction’ and believed the source of Night Scourge was an inanimate object.”

Myss suddenly spoke. “Now I am telling you that the source of Night Scourge is a living thing. The ‘Chaos Archdemon’ truly exists.”

Salaar’s movements stopped.

“All right. You may state your thoughts now.”

Myss mumbled, “The goal you clung to so desperately truly exists, and is alive. Happy?”

He didn’t look back. For some unknown reason, he didn’t want to see Salaar’s current expression.

“That means He can be killed, and the Night Scrouge can be brought to a complete end,” Salaar said. “I once had such a hypothesis, a very ideal hypothesis.”

Sure enough, Myss smacked his lips madly in his heart and waited for Salaar’s next thoughts.

But he waited and waited, but no impassioned speech from Salaar came.

Myss forced himself not to turn his head. “That’s it?”

“What should I say?” Salaar asked back and continued combing his hair.

“You were born for the Chaos Archdemon and will die for the Chaos Archdemon, and that’s all you feel?”

“…”

Salaar pondered for a long time. “I don’t know what the me from three hundred years later is like. But my obsession with the source of the Night Scourge is only my instinct.”

“If the Chaos Archdemon God is a living thing, and even possesses intelligence, then I wouldn’t communicate with Him. That way, my thinking can remain as objective as possible.”

Myss: “?”


The author has something to say:

Myss: [angry] Like hell I believe you… (omitted)

Salaar’s “Thirty-Six Stratagems of Love”. [OK]


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

A Contract Between Enemies Ch100

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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


Chapter 100: Void

Myss choked.

How to put it? This atmosphere felt like it was right, but also not quite right.

They were enemies, that was true, but Salaar was the one who had proposed the contract. What did he mean, “you used the contract to control me”?

“Hurry up and remove the drug’s effect. Like this, you’ll delay important business.” Myss repeated, puffed up with anger.

Salaar refused to be moved. “Since I took the potion of my own accord, I must have anticipated the current situation.”

Myss ground his teeth with a creak.

Meaning, Salaar was confident he could resolve the matter of “canceling the kill order.” Damn it. Not only was Hero Salaar highly confident in his past self, he was also more than happy to make things difficult for Myss.

“Suit yourself.” Myss turned and walked away.

After taking a few steps, he backed up again and put on a stern face. “I don’t know where the room is. This kind of broken thing is usually handled by you.”

“What’s going on, what’s going on?”

The Dragon Fae was still inside the pocket watch on Myss’s chest. At this moment, he couldn’t help poking his head out.

Myss briefly mentioned the effect of “Return to Youth.” After listening, the Dragon Fae revealed an especially subtle expression.

“Haa, young people these days, their tricks really are…”

Tass hesitated, arms propped on the edge of the gemstone as he lightly shook his head. “Forget it. The only person who could think of using this kind of potion as a poison would be a dandy like Owen.”

“The effect of this potion lasts pretty long. If it wears off naturally, it takes about a month. Judging from Salaar’s behavior just now, he doesn’t seem like the kind of unreasonable young brat either. It shouldn’t be a big problem.”

The Dragon Fae was taking it all quite well.

But aside from Myss, there was someone else present who was quite unhappy.

“Myss, Myss!” Fork’s thin voice carried a sob. “Come look quickly, Knife turned into an idiot!”

Earlier, Fork and Knife had both been casually stuffed into Myss’s pocket. Knife hadn’t made any sound this whole time that Myss thought that little snake was maintaining Salaar’s steady manner.

He hurriedly pulled out Knife and discovered that the little snake’s lapis eyes were pointed in different directions, one up and one down, looking as if it had fallen asleep. But it moved from time to time, so it clearly wasn’t dormant.

“No matter how I call it, it won’t respond to me. Even if it’s affected by Salaar’s mental state, it shouldn’t become like this!”

Fork twisted its body in distress and nearly tied itself into a knot. “Myss, think of something!”

Myss poked Knife. Knife moved reflexively, like an ordinary snake. Its eyes were still flying around everywhere, looking dimwitted.

Could something really have gone wrong with Salaar’s mind?

Myss looked until his heart grew irritated and disturbed, then stuffed Knife back into his pocket. Fork anxiously bit its own tail tip, rolling around inside Myss’s pocket.

“We’ll talk after returning to the room.” Myss patted his pocket, his voice dry.

“Alchemical creatures reacting strongly to alchemical drugs isn’t rare. Don’t worry. Salaar is good at healing magic, and he won’t have any aftereffects.”

Tass comforted Myss like an elder. “In any case, our investigation has no time limit. We can afford to wait a month. I’ll go inform Kalen now. You two go rest first…”

At critical moments, this Dragon Fae could still be considered reliable.

Myss’s gaze had just swept over when he saw Tass rubbing his hands together. “…And while I’m at it, I’ll eavesdrop on the Karns meeting. Who knows what they’ll say behind your backs!”

Myss: “…”

Well, he was still the Tass Ga Myss knew.

Salaar soon found a male servant and located the room the Karns family had prepared for them.

The room was supposedly one Kendrick Karns had lived in during his youth. Its interior decoration was quite grand, completely incomparable to that filthy, messy room in Ring Town.

Outside the tall arched floor-to-ceiling windows was the manor garden glittering with lights. Moonlight, lamplight, and swaying branches were neatly cut into squares by the rectangular window frame, hidden behind heavy dark-red curtains.

In the center of the room stood a white-painted four-poster bed. The bed had been changed with a soft and comfortable goose-down quilt, large enough for four adults to sleep on.

In the corner of the room, the decorative fireplace crackled and popped. Calming herbs that refreshed the heart and mind were being smoked over the fire. Jewel ornaments decorated bluish-green pine needles, hanging quietly by the fireplace and casting swaying fragments of colored light on the wooden floor.

In front of the fireplace, there was even chilled apple wine, fresh fruit, and shield-shaped almond biscuits. The Karns family truly deserved to be one of the great noble families of the Aufon Kingdom. Even though Kendrick was only an unpopular family member, he still received treatment fit for a king.

Salaar sat beside the bed with his knees together. His back was to the leaping firelight, and his eyes sank into a thin layer of shadow. Spread open on his knees was a copy of ‘Eight Possible Causes of the Night Scourge’.

Myss stood in front of Salaar. After standing for a while, he felt this posture was uncomfortable, so he dragged over a chair and sat facing Salaar.

Salaar raised his head and looked at him once, then lowered it again and continued reading that book about the Night Scourge.

…Myss suddenly realized the reason for his discomfort.

Ever since Salaar’s mind had returned to his youth, even if he regarded Myss as an “enemy,” it wasn’t the same level of “enemy” as before.

Salaar’s gaze no longer stuck to him at all times. Salaar’s movements no longer carried that intentional or unintentional teasing. The young Salaar only obeyed instructions in a standard manner, then treated him as a problem that needed to be solved.

This Salaar was too quiet, so quiet he didn’t seem like a living person. The air inside the room was warm, yet by the bed flowed a chill, a nearly void-like coldness that came from Salaar.

This chill made Myss extremely displeased.

“Are you planning to sit there all night?” Myss folded his arms, crossing one leg high over the other.

“According to noble customs, they will give us options after breakfast tomorrow.”

Salaar raised his eyes again and looked at Myss. “Is there anything else?”

Myss shifted his backside against the chair, his body leaning forward slightly. “I thought you’d have a lot of questions to ask me.”

“There’s no need yet. There are enough books here.” Salaar said, his fingertips lightly brushing over the words “Chaos Archdemon” on the page.

“Clearly, it’s now more than three hundred years after the Night Scourge ‘ended,’ and I’m still searching for a way to eliminate the Chaos Archdemon.”

Myss’s eyes darted about. “Let me tell you a little secret. The Chaos Archdemon was eliminated. We’re traveling the world, tracking down an extraordinary pest. We even have other teammates.”

“Impossible.” Salaar snapped the book shut.

His tone was as hard as black bread left out for three days. Myss didn’t like that command-like tone one bit.

Those lapis-lazuli eyes looked over again. Myss suddenly realized that this was the first time since leaving the dinner that Salaar’s gaze had fully landed on his face.

That gaze was like a hand, pulling Myss in Salaar’s direction. It was as if everything in the room had ceased to exist, and only “Myss” himself needed to be examined.

“On what basis is it ‘impossible’?” Myss’s heart jumped for no reason.

“Because I’m still here.” Salaar’s voice was very low. “I’m still alive. That means the source of Night Scourge hasn’t disappeared.”

Myss’s spirits lifted. “Aha, I understand!”

“No wonder you could live for so long, and you’re so familiar with Divine Blood, no, magic source. Your physical body was modified by humans. If the Chaos Archdemon dies, you’ll die with Him.”

That had to be it. This was truly an unexpected gain.

Young Salaar was still easier to deal with than adult Salaar, Myss thought happily. The displeasure in his heart suddenly dispersed a little.

Salaar stared fixedly at him. Those empty eyes suddenly no longer seemed quite so empty. Something resembling a smile appeared in his eyes, but they were too calm, too cold, and could hardly be called emotion.

“We’re indeed not ‘companions.’ You don’t understand me,” he said.

“I was born for the Chaos Archdemon, and I am destined to die for the Chaos Archdemon. This is my will, the entire meaning of my existence.”

The Chaos Archdemon himself: “…”

The “entire meaning of your existence” was singing and dancing in the seal to harass me? You can hardly blame me for not seeing it! Also…

Also, logically speaking, young Salaar’s tone should have had at least some hatred in it.

Salaar had been born in an era ravaged by the Night Scourge, and he had been able to hold fast in the darkness for more than three hundred years. To be able to achieve this, Myss could think of no other possibility besides intense hatred and a sense of duty.

Even if one put it more extremely, if Salaar had received harsh training since childhood and been instilled with the fanatical belief that “everything is for ending the Night Scourge,” he should still have strong negative emotions toward the “source of the Night Scourge.”

But young Salaar was extremely calm. It was as if his obsession with the “Chaos Archdemon” was devoid of any impurities, even if that impurity represented “humanity.”

Myss had originally thought young Salaar would allow him to understand his opponent, “Salaar,” better. Now, however, he found Salaar increasingly inscrutable. Even the Salaar in the Red Amber, who had only rationality left, hadn’t made him this uneasy.

Myss slowly deflated. “What if I said I’m the Chaos Archdemon?”

Salaar: “…”

His brows twitched. Then he forcefully lowered his head and continued reading, clearly not believing even half a word.

Myss couldn’t stand it anymore. He stepped forward and slapped both hands onto Salaar’s cheeks, forcing him to look directly at him.

Lord Archdemon finally understood. Salaar had voluntarily taken “Return to Youth” precisely to infuriate him, this enemy, half to death. Unfortunately, not even Kalen and Tass knew his true identity, so Myss really couldn’t produce evidence.

Salaar silently looked at him, letting Myss squeeze his cheeks. Myss held his hands up until they were sore, but Salaar still didn’t have any additional reaction.

Fork was still rolling around in Myss’s pocket. It made a whimper that snakes shouldn’t have and tried to make Knife return to normal.

“Change back.”

Myss did his best to straighten his back and speak from above. “The you from three hundred years later is more useful than the you now. Enough, Salaar. Even if you risk making mistakes, you still want to disgust me like this?”

Salaar’s eyes flickered slightly. He pondered for a few seconds. “You seem very convinced that the me from three hundred years later would take an alchemical potion for a childish reason like ‘making you unhappy.’”

“In other words, you care very much about my attitude toward you.”

Young Salaar slowly stretched out both hands and grasped the two wrists Myss had reached toward him. He pressed Myss’s hands firmly against his face, his tone growing a little heavier.

“I understand now, ‘Myss.’ I must have paid great attention to you before.”

His voice was almost sincere. “In other words, you possess an important clue to ending Night Scourge.”

Myss suddenly pulled back both hands, as if what he had been holding wasn’t Salaar’s face, but a searing branding iron.

Salaar’s attention toward him was only his obsession with the source of the Night Scourge.

That was right. Salaar’s gaze, Salaar’s so-called “love”… Everything Salaar had done so far was for the sake of ending the Night Scourge.

It was as if the existence of “Myss” himself had no meaning whatsoever.

Even if “he” weren’t him, but something else, Salaar would still play those ambiguous games of opposition with “him.”

Myss’s chest tightened, his heart palpitating nonstop, bringing with it a wave of aching pain across his back. Theoretically, he had known this long ago. But at this moment, he truly realized it.

The next moment, Myss reflexively grabbed the quilt and leapt to the fireplace.

He stayed far away from Salaar, wrapping himself tightly in the goose-down quilt. It was as if this scorching heat and darkness could make him feel a little better.

Salaar stood up from beside the bed and slowly walked over. Myss could feel the faint vibrations of the floor.

Something lightly poked his back. “Myss?”

Myss didn’t respond.

“Myss.” Salaar’s voice came a little closer.

“Don’t call me Myss. I will definitely make sure you die in the Night Scourge,” Myss said muffled from inside the quilt.

He was surprised to discover that his current emotion wasn’t pain, nor anger. It was very unfamiliar… He guessed it was called “sadness.”

Salaar stopped poking him.

But the sound of his breathing didn’t move away. Salaar was crouching beside him, probably considering a countermeasure. Myss wrapped the quilt even more tightly around himself, even pulling in the ends of his hair that were exposed outside.

“…Myss.” After two minutes, Salaar began calling him again, his tone carrying a few traces of probing.

As if Myss were a goldfish with only a few minutes of memory, or something else of that sort.

Myss made up his mind. Before Salaar returned to normal, he would no longer pay attention to this damn guy. And after Salaar recovered, he was absolutely going to have a solid fight with Salhimaar.

Just then, a rhythmic knocking sounded at the door.

“Excuse me, it’s me. Peyton Karns.”

Peyton’s voice came from outside the door.

“Kendrick, I need to speak with you.”


The author has something to say:

Adult Salaar: Don’t be impatient. My real tactics have yet to come. [dog head] [dog head] [dog head]


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

A Contract Between Enemies Ch99

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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


Chapter 99: My Master

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

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

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

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

“Magnolia, what did Kendrick promise you?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Simply shameful.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shut up.”

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

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

At some unknown point, Salaar had raised his eyes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I want that meat pie.”

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

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

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

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

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

He was assessing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Salaar nodded with an extremely slight movement.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Salaar quietly swallowed it.

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

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

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

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

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

“I understand, Grandfather.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“After all.”

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

Boom.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Very well. As for that task—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Myss: “Why?!”

He faintly felt as though Salaar had tricked him.

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

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

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

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

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

“Without question, you are my enemy.”


The author has something to say:

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

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


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

A Contract Between Enemies Ch98

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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


Chapter 98: Return to Youth

The instant he heard the scream, Myss shot out.

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

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

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

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

“Salaar!” Myss shouted.

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

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

“I’m fine.”

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

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

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

“What happened?” Myss frowned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Owen snapped his mouth shut.

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

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

Salaar folded his arms and looked deeply at Myss.

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

Myss: “?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Everyone, move faster.”

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

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

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

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

“And then?”

“And then I lost composure in advance.”

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

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

“People can change, but not too much.”

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

Really?

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

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

……

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mm.” Myss said with satisfaction.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s going on?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you want to try it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Salaar suddenly smiled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Gulp.

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

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

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


The author has something to say:

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

Young Saint Salaar is about to appear! [OK]


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

A Contract Between Enemies Ch97

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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


Chapter 97: Giant Python

Myss sank deep into the hotel sofa.

This hotel had been arranged by Lady Mag.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“All right, get up.”

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

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

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

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

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

Myss didn’t believe him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not bad.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

……

Serpentia, a certain secret room.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The next night, Karns Manor.

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

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

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

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

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

A hostile voice shot over.

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

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

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

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

“My former employer, Owen.”

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

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

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

Myss wrinkled his nose and looked away, thoroughly uninterested.

“Good evening, dear Cousin Owen.”

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

Owen: “…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“…Pay more attention to that Peyton.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Myss: “…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Facts proved that Father Kalen was right.

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

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

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

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

…Only, it lacked a little vitality.

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

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

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

“Queenie.”

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

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

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

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

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

Myss didn’t turn around. “No.”

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

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

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

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

“An interesting perspective.”

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

“Pain.” This word stabbed Myss.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


The author has something to say:

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


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

A Contract Between Enemies Ch96

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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


Chapter 96: The Family Dinner

Damn it. Salaar had noticed.

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

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

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

Without a doubt, this was an attack.

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

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

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

“You cunning—scheming—mmph—”

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

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

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

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

…This guy truly was skilled at mental magic.

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

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

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

He had clearly been so close!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Borrow.”

Poof!

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

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

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

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

“You absolutely did that on purpose!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Having thought this through, Myss felt a little better.

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

…But Salaar was still infuriating!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Enuff,” Salaar struggled to say.

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

Two days later.

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

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

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

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

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

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

For combat efficiency, Myss endured it.

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

In Mag’s office.

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

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

“Will that be all right?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Communicate. Communicate with us.”

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

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

“Wawawoo~” Bedsheet Archdemon spun around happily.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

If only Mr. Tenney were still here.

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

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

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

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

Fine. Another boring human social activity.

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

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

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

“Understood.”

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

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


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

A Contract Between Enemies Ch95

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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


Chapter 95: A Flaw in the Seal

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A lie.

Myss withdrew the smile on his face.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Myss silently studied Salaar.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Myss: “?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Naturally, the other parts were even less covered.

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

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

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

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

“Yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

Salaar smiled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hiss!”

Myss opened his eyes. Sharp pain shattered his thoughts.

Salaar was biting his collarbone.

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

“No.”

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

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

“…It cannot end—not yet.”


The author has something to say:

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


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A Contract Between Enemies Ch94

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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


Chapter 94: Half-Truths and Half-Lies

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

“…An ordinary old man.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll do it.”

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

Salaar nodded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The enormous claw stopped in midair and slowly withdrew.

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

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

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

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

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

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

……

Two hours passed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Only Salaar and Myss still maintained their tiny doll forms.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mag solemnly placed the bread basket on the desk.

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

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

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

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

Mag’s expression turned solemn.

…Legendary Divine Attendants?

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

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

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

Then true Divine Attendants…

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

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

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

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

Only then did Mag let out a breath of relief.

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

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

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

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

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

Mag’s expression dimmed for an instant.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Peyton? Had this person been mentioned before?

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

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

So that was how it was.

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

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

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

Halfway through her words, Mag swallowed them herself.

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

But these were Divine Attendants indirectly acknowledged by Professor Gentry!

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

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

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

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

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


The author has something to say:

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

A literal challenge.jpg

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


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