Chapter 1003 The Descent of Doom <TOC> Chapter 1005 Shadowy Hills
Next page password is bold portion: &H+DrUT6lF4
Translator: SumTLMan
Following the departure of Sineva and Samantha, only Sanders and Canter remained on the field.
In contemplative silence, Sanders was staring at Downfallen Forest in the distance… now, the trees of Downfallen Forest were few and far between, with the majority having transformed into pools of molten lava. Even the few survivors, engulfed in an all-pervasive cloud of dust, were unlikely to last much longer. It wouldn’t be long, he mused, before this place may need a new name.
Snow was still falling, but when it landed over the pools of molten lava, it instantly vaporized into mist. The glimmering light of the fires below danced through the swirling dust and the white fog, creating a strangely beautiful scene on first glance.
“Who would have thought that beneath Downfallen Forest, such a demon would be slumbering,” Canter muttered, “A dethroned lord, that’s a rare sight indeed.”
Sanders didn’t respond to Canter’s comment. His gaze stayed fixed on the horizon, seemingly directed at Downfallen Forest, yet it appeared as if it penetrated even further, reaching out towards the distant Howling Plains.
“What are you looking at?” Canter asked with curiosity.
Sanders answered slowly, “I’m wondering… whether she will return.”
“That’s hard to say. The martial law of the demon city will end soon, though. I estimate we won’t be here for much longer. Even if Dongola returns by then, it won’t affect us much,” Canter paused, his eyes flickering, “Furthermore, considering her degree of doom contamination, I doubt that Dongola will have the chance to return.”
After Canter’s comment, Sanders simply offered a quiet chuckle and a shake of his head.
When he had asked ‘will she return,’ he hadn’t been referring to Dongola, but… Madeline.
As Dongola had begun her escape with Mangonis, Sanders noticed Madeline, who had been observing from afar, merge with the thorny ground and stealthily follow.
Upon reflection, it was clear what Madeline was intending to do.
After all, it was Dongola who had single-handedly orchestrated the tragic annihilation of the Silian family. Naturally, Madeline’s pursuit would be fueled by a desire for vengeance.
Sanders noticed this but did not intervene. Previously, Madeline and Dongola were of completely different calibers — if Madeline sought revenge against Dongola, Sanders might have stepped in to stop her. However, under the influence of doom, there was now a real chance that Madeline could turn the tables on Dongola.
Especially given that, for now, Dongola had no way of regaining her magic power.
Nevertheless, Dongola was, after all, a bona fide witch; even a thin camel is larger than a horse. As such, Sanders couldn’t discern whether Madeline would be able to return.
The situation in the Abyss was ever-changing, volatile as the sea. Sanders shook his head, deciding to put it out of his mind.
Even if Madeline couldn’t return, that was the result of a choice she had made herself.
When Sanders returned to his domain, he saw Angel perched on the tall tower, gazing into the distance. He appeared to have never left; the snow accumulating on his soft golden hair gave the impression of a pristine, white crown.
“What’s on your mind?” Sanders descended to inquire.
“…Is this the power of an Abyssal demon?” Even though the demon had departed, Angel’s gaze remained somewhat distant. In a matter of mere minutes, more than half of Downfallen Forest had been transformed into a pool of molten lava!
“That was a unique demon,” Sanders paused before recounting the events that had just transpired.
After hearing Sanders’ account, Angel’s attention shifted from the demon to the witch Dongola, who was infamous for her fondness of “grafting” parts onto others.
“Is the Harbinger of Doom really that formidable?”
Sanders nodded, even Demon Lords tended to steer clear of the Harbinger of Doom. According to the records of Frost Moon, wherever the Harbinger of Doom resided, endless disasters would ensue.
“What happened to Lady Dongola…” Angel curiously asked.
With a smile, Sanders shook his head, opting not to elaborate.
…
Three days later, the snow showed no signs of stopping and, in fact, seemed to be growing heavier.
The distant pool of molten lava continued to bubble and boil. Illuminated by the fiery glow and shrouded in white mist, it would have been reminiscent of an ethereal realm, were it not for the pungent, acrid sulfurous smell.
After the shock of Mangonis’ incident, the order within the fortress had somewhat improved. However, this state of affairs did not last long before everyone received a new directive.
“Tomorrow, we will evacuate Watchtower Fortress. Pack your belongings and prepare to relocate to Kodo Port.”
In Sanders’ study, Angel paused upon hearing the news: “Has the martial law on the demon city ended?”
“Not yet. However, due to the incident with Mangonis, Sineva has decided to move our base ahead of schedule,” Sanders explained.
This choice was rather fitting for the current circumstances, after all, it was nigh impossible for the Descendant of the Demon God to emerge from the passage of Downfallen Forest. What’s more, if Dongola were to regain her senses and retreat back to the fortress, it would be a catastrophe.
“You should also get ready, I plan to utilize this window of relocation to usher you back into the Wizarding World.”
This was a decision Sanders had already committed to earlier. The Abyss was fraught with peril, and Angel here, wasn’t even qualified to serve as cannon fodder.
Upon hearing this, Angel nodded and promptly departed the study.
However, upon his departure, instead of preparing for the journey, he stepped outside the grand doors.
Given the imminent departure, Toby had yet to return, Angel sought to summon Toby back before their journey.
Angel immediately ascended to the top of the tower, transmitting his summoning signal. Yet, even after the passage of ten minutes, Toby’s silhouette was nowhere to be found. Angel hesitated for a moment before transmitting two more signals. However, all he could see was the vast expanse of falling snow, with Toby remaining conspicuously absent.
The joyful mood upon learning of the return to the Wizarding World, at this moment, suddenly became tinged with unease.
Sanders had previously mentioned that the area around the fortress was relatively safe, hence Angel felt at ease letting Toby roam around. However, Toby’s continued silence raised an ominous feeling within Angel.
Did he encounter danger, or perhaps, Toby ventured too far from the safe zone to receive his signals?
Angel’s mind wandered back to the last time he saw Toby.
It was three days ago, after Mangonis had been lured away by Dongola. Angel called back Toby, repeating his instructions emphatically for him not to wander into Downfallen Forest and the Howling Plains.
Thereafter, he engrossed himself in his research and hadn’t seen Toby since.
Angel felt somewhat agitated, but he forced himself to remain calm. Given Toby’s abilities, equipped with the Dark Feather and Gravity Lines, he should be well capable of handling the vast majority of situations… Surely, he wouldn’t be in any danger…
Angel leaped down from the tower, swiftly making his way towards the perimeter watchtowers.
Though the apprentices had been somewhat lax and relaxed during this period, the guards on the watchtowers were perpetually alert, always ready for battle. Previously, Toby almost got mistaken for an enemy when it wanted to frolic outside the fortress. It was only after Canter’s intervention and clarification, that Toby was able to roam freely outside the fortress.
Running agilely through the snow-covered fortress, Angel inquired several guards about Toby’s whereabouts, yet none had noticed any sign of it. It was only until he reached the northern tower of the fortress, did he glean some insight into the situation.
In this scenario, the information did not come from a guard as one might expect, but from a roistering apprentice atop the tower, who interjected when he overheard Angel’s inquiry to the sentry.
“The grey nondescript seabird you’re referring to?” The stout, slightly inebriated apprentice holding an empty glass of wine chimed in. After a moment of reflection, he continued, “I recall spotting that seabird just yesterday afternoon while we were foraging for the elusive Silver Torrent Shrimp.”
The Silver Torrent Shrimp, a crustacean-like creature, is considered a basic ingredient for gourmet wizards. Consumed as is, it is reputed to bolster masculinity.
“Isn’t that so, Little Braids?” The portly apprentice gave a gentle nudge to the juvenile next to him, who sported a long rat-tail braid.
The youth, with flushed cheeks — whether from intoxication or from the mention of the Silver Torrent Shrimp was unclear, responded, “It was rather dusky at the time; I didn’t see anything. However, Popoca must have, he was constantly looking up at the sky.” Following his statement, he turned his curious eyes on Angel, “Are you Lord Pat?”
“Do you know me?” Angel asked.
“Popoca mentioned before that you’re an apprentice to Phantom Master,” The youth’s eyes sparkled as he gazed up at Angel with a countenance of pure admiration.
Popoca? Upon hearing this name, Angel felt as though a memory box deeply buried in his mind had been prised open, and the image of a youth clad in a white robe sprang forth.
Could this Popoca be the same Popoca he knew?
As Angel mulled over this, the rotund apprentice enthusiastically guided him around the high tower, finally bringing him to the opposite side. There, Angel saw a man half-reclining on the roof, shielded from the snow by the upper eaves, leisurely sipping his drink.
The blood-red chain coiling around the man caught Angel off guard.
Indeed, it was him.
This was the very chain Angel himself had crafted years ago.
After creating this chain, Angel had lost contact with Popoca. Years had passed, and to encounter him here once again was truly unexpected.
“Popoca, can you elucidate for us, did we not glimpse that seabird just yesterday?” A stout and short apprentice leaned against the iron balustrade, hollering towards Popoca who was on the other side of the barrier.
Popoca savored a mouthful of his drink and swiveled around.
His gaze casually skimmed over the plump apprentice, landing on Angel.
After a momentary lapse into a daydream, he lifted his cup, now just a glassy veneer of liquid left, raising it in a ghostly toast towards Angel.
“We meet again.” Popoca’s words were wrapped in a grin.
Angel froze for a second, a flicker of perplexity gleaming in his eyes. Upon hearing Popoca’s tone, he was suddenly struck by an unidentifiable sense of familiarity.
“Seems Lord Pat has forgotten about me, no?”
Shaking off the uncanny sense of familiarity that invaded his thoughts, Angel responded with a headshake, “Not at all, I did not anticipate crossing paths with you here either.”
Their connection was merely of an artisan and customer; if time and place were different, Angel might have exchanged pleasantries. However, with Toby’s whereabouts shrouded in mystery, Angel dispensed with the courtesy and delved straight into the matter at hand:
“Earlier, this gentleman…” Angel cast a glance at the stout apprentice, pondering the proper phrasing when the man promptly introduced himself, “My name is Dash.”
“I am in search of a grey seabird of this likeness.” Angel unfurled his palm, a spectral representation of Toby shimmered in its center, “Just now, Dash informed me that you have spotted it? May I ask where?”
Observing the illusory bird nestled within the confines of Angel’s palm, Popoca deliberated for a moment before speaking, “Indeed, I seem to recall such a sighting, let me think… I believe it was yesterday afternoon, near the vicinity of the Shadowy Hills.”
Chapter 1003 The Descent of Doom <TOC> Chapter 1005 Shadowy Hills