Chapter 1036 Sky Island <TOC> Chapter 1038 Three Peculiar Curios
Translator: SumTLMan
The response Angel received was a frosty glance from Fafnir.
Accompanying it, a gust of illusory wind nipped at his cheeks, leaving a faint sting.
Angel sighed internally, he wasn’t saying she couldn’t follow along, in fact, he wished Fafnir would join him on this venture. After all, Fafnir’s prowess in battle was evident. With the force of Fafnir to deter any trivial foes, most wouldn’t dare to provoke them.
But it seemed that Fafnir had no intention of accompanying him closely, merely trailing from a distance. Even if danger befell Angel, she would only observe coldly from afar.
Angel was somewhat puzzled as to what Fafnir’s true intentions were.
Was she curious to see how an ant struggles for survival in the Abyss? Or was she planning to pen a diary of human observation?
No matter how much he speculated internally, he found no answer. All Angel could do was shake his head and continue onward, indifferent to whether she chose to follow. After all, she wouldn’t kill him right here and now, would she?
As Angel flew towards the Translayer Gate, Fafnir hesitated for a moment before following him.
Fafnir’s reason for following Angel was to understand why Odeklaes would entrust such a task to a human apprentice, even granting him the Mark of Flame.
Moreover, Fafnir knew very well that if she wished to meet Odeklaes, he would undoubtedly be reluctant to see her. But, if Angel could complete Odeklaes’ task and win his friendship, would it then be possible for her to meet Odeklaes?
It was precisely due to this expectation that Fafnir decided to accompany Angel.
Besides, she currently had no other pressing matters.
Within the valley where clouds and mists gathered, Angel stood in front of a massive gate, about twenty meters tall.
The mysterious, grandiose gate, appearing and disappearing in the mist, exuded an aura of profound majesty.
This was his second time standing in front of this Translayer Gate. Gazing upon the depictions of various peculiar creatures engraved on the gate, Angel still felt awestruck. Especially when his eyes landed on the etching of the Abyss Dragon, Angel sneakily glanced back at Fafnir. Although their colors differed, the creature’s physical appearance was strikingly similar to Fafnir’s true form.
As for Fafnir, she didn’t show much emotion. She merely focused her gaze on the single, smoky eye coiling with black mist at the top of the gate.
Through this eye, she seemed to be peering across the abyss of time, witnessing a Demon God from a primordial epoch, raising his titanic skull to engage her in a silent, profound gaze.
“Another long-living pest.” Fafnir muttered begrudgingly within his mind.
Angel was prepared to transcend this gate, yet to his surprise, he found himself overestimating his capacity… he couldn’t budge the door an inch.
The Translayer Gate held a particular stipulation — in order to pry it open, one must possess strength sufficient enough to thrive in the plane it led to. Behind this gate lurked the third layer of the abyss; with Angel’s current prowess, venturing into this layer would be nothing short of a death sentence, hence his inability to nudge the door.
After enduring the awkwardness of standing in front of the unyielding gate for several minutes, Angel retreated towards Fafnir, his spirit wilting.
Fafnir merely sneered at the sight. There was, in fact, another path that led to the third layer of the Abyss, one that lacked any form of strength-checking gate. It was the very path they had traversed when she had first guided Angel to the Ice Valley.
She had never anticipated Angel would choose to enter the third layer via this Translayer Gate this time around.
He really had it coming.
“Esteemed Lady Fafnir, would you consider assisting a humble human with a minor request?” Angel approached Fafnir, his smile a touch sheepish.
Fafnir merely stared at him with unwavering eyes, a sense of profound mockery pooling in her gaze.
For a moment, the two stood side by side in silence.
Just when Angel thought that Fafnir wouldn’t be inclined to help, that he would have to reroute his journey, Fafnir abruptly stepped forth, her hand outstretched before the door, pushing gently.
In an instant, the tightly-locked gate swung open.
“Human, withhold that revolting expression. I did not do this to aid you, for I, too, am heading for the third layer,” Fafnir turned back, her gaze meeting Angel’s grateful face, her voice resounding with a cold huff.
Fafnir’s barbed tongue was not a novelty — ever since their first encounter, her sense of superiority had never dipped below the clouds. Hence, Angel remained unperturbed by the disdain lacing her words, continuing to thank her whilst disregarding her rebuffs.
After expressing his gratitude, Angel seized the opportunity before the gate could slam shut again, darting through the threshold in a swift dash.
Behind the door lay a vast and desolate snowy expanse, the third layer of the abyss.
Angel vividly remembered the trajectory Sineva had embarked upon, making his way towards the direction of the Nielgard Winter Palace. In a predictable turn of events, Fafnir decided to accompany him.
As he passed by Nielgard Winter Palace, he refrained from stepping within its bounds. Instead, he made a deliberate choice of direction and carried on his flight.
He intended to pay a visit to Silent Shore.
The task granted to him by Odeklaes was to acquire Firestone. Moreover, a path was designated for him, leading him to the half-demon in the demon city of La Sutherland.
Even though at present it appeared as though this was the only path available to him, it didn’t imply he was obligated to tread upon it.
He intended to seek out Balalaika in the Resting Ground.
He remembered Balalaika as a trader and perhaps she held something of value that he could gain.
In the beginning, Fafnir trailing Angel was preoccupied with deciphering which route Angel would choose to the demon city. However, as Angel hastened his journey, her eyebrows gradually furrowed.
The chosen route raised questions in Fafnir’s mind too. Further ahead was the direction of the Silent Dead Sea.
What was his purpose in visiting the Silent Dead Sea? Could it be that he planned to seek assistance from the Harbinger of Doom to liberate his bird from its calamity?
Fafnir was left in a haze of confusion, which only started to dissipate when Angel came to a halt before a monolith.
Etched upon the monolith was an inscription: “Immortal Brigade, Resting Ground”.
Upon seeing this monolith, a hint of trepidation stirred within Angel. Although he was aware of Balalaika being a trader, he was also cognizant of the fact that Balalaika harbored a deep-seated disdain for humans.
He wasn’t sure whether he could safely leave upon stepping foot into the Resting Ground.
Furthermore, without the Soul Returning Sand, he was uncertain if Balalaika would be willing to engage in trade with him.
His only option was to give it a shot.
Taking a deep breath, Angel lifted his foot and stepped beyond the monolith.
In a mere blink of an eye, day transitioned into night. The drab daylight of the outside world, much like being dispersed by the wind, transformed into a dark, serene night.
Once again reuniting with the darkness of the night, the transformation within Angel was a stark contrast to their previous encounter.
Sanders once said that the sea here wasn’t the sea of today, and the night wasn’t the night of the present. They were frozen in time, capturing the last evening before the fall of the gods.
Lifting his gaze to the boundless expanse of the sky, an obsidian canvas devoid of both stars and overcast clouds greeted him.
Indeed, it was an ordinary night, yet the fact that it marked the longest night of the Old Abyss lent it a poignant sense of historical weight.
Beside him, the echo of footsteps resonated, an unmistakable prelude to Fafnir’s arrival.
“Didn’t think you would seek out this cunning trader,” the cold scoff of Fafnir echoed in Angel’s ear, “I’d advise you to leave. The price for what she seeks is not something you can afford.”
Angel: “I simply wish to make an attempt.”
Since he had dared to step into the Resting Grounds, Angel naturally didn’t contemplate retreat. Regardless of the outcome, he was determined to try.
Heading toward a nearby graveyard, Angel found it still as solemn and serene as ever, occasionally punctuated by fleeting wisps of ghostly light.
At first glance, it might appear devoid of life, but Angel knew that beneath this expanse of land, countless skeletal remains of the Immortal Brigade laid in eternal slumber.
His steps were light, as if through this subtle act, he could avoid disturbing the slumbering bones.
As he turned a quiet, secluded path, Angel found the small tavern nestled deep within the graveyard, just as he remembered. A lone lantern illuminated the establishment, the fabric of the enclosure occasionally rustling in the wind, revealing glimpses of a woman’s slender silhouette within.
The scene was nearly identical to his last visit, except this time, two figures stood at the entrance of the bar.
As Angel drew closer, he recognized them. One was a Tomb Knight, the other, a man dressed in a tight-fitting suit with a bow tie.
Referring to him as a “man” was merely Angel’s initial impression. Upon seeing the sinister double horns spiraling from his forehead, Angel realized his mistake. This wasn’t a man, but a half-demon.
However, his attire would have one believe that he was more suited for managing a grand aristocratic manor than being a half-demon.
“Stian, the mistress does not wish to see you. Please depart,” The Tomb Knight’s voice echoed from within his helmet, a deep, resonating drone.
The half-demon, referred to as Stian, first gave Angel a slight, sweeping glance. His eyes lingered momentarily on the Mark of Flame adorning Angel’s earlobe, as well as the unending blackness of Angel’s eyes, before finally turning back to the Tomb Knight.
He cast a gracious smile, “Esteemed knight, my family name is Stiantrofeyr, Stian being the most inconsequential section of it. You can address me by my full name, or Trofeyr alone would suffice. Moreover, I merely seek to touch the captivating Lady Balalaika with sincerity.”
A scornful laughter echoed from within the Tomb Knight’s visor, “Stian is the surname gifted by your mother, Trofeyr, an ignominious appellation bestowed by the Goat Demon. It’s nauseating how you disregard your maternal heritage in favor of the demon’s moniker. Truly, a disgusting mongrel you are.”
Stiantrofeyr’s demeanor remained unruffled amidst the Tomb Knight’s vitriolic comments, his smile delicate and gracious as ever. The curvature of his lips, the frequency of his blinks, even the control over his facial muscles seemed to be meticulously calculated.
“While it’s true that I’m a half-demon of the Nea lineage, I recall, isn’t the Immortal Brigade also composed of half-demons?” The insinuation in Stiantrofeyr’s words was clear — they were the same, and if the knight found him to be a mongrel, then the knight was no better.
Yet, the Tomb Knight scoffed coldly, “At least, I am not a pawn of the demons.”
Having said his piece, the Tomb Knight no longer acknowledged Stiantrofeyr. This pestering creature was repeatedly expelled, only to return time and again, hoping to be acknowledged by Lady Balalaika.
Moreover, Stiantrofeyr wished to meet Balalaika, not for personal matters, but on behalf of the very Goat Demon that had labeled him “Trofeyr”.
The Goat Demon, too cowardly to show up himself, sent Stiantrofeyr in his place.
The Nea clan, however, shared a history with Balalaika. Even if she wasn’t willing to negotiate with Stiantrofeyr, out of respect for the Nea clan, she hadn’t outright driven him away.
The Tomb Knight turned a blind eye to Stiantrofeyr, allowing him to stand elegantly at the tavern’s entrance as though he were the doorman.
His gaze shifted towards Angel.
Although Angel had purposefully altered his eye characteristics, the Tomb Knight still recognized his visage. Had it been anyone else, they would have been driven away, but for Angel… it required a different consideration.
Chapter 1036 Sky Island <TOC> Chapter 1038 Three Peculiar Curios