Chapter 1041 Irreplaceable Materials <TOC> Chapter 1043 The Phantasmagoria Cabin
Translator: SumTLMan
Beside Gloaming Mountains, nestled adjacent to the Kaya Forest, lies Lake Nemin.
In terms of geographical importance, Lake Nemin might not seem consequential, yet oddly enough, this unassuming lake lures nearly half of the demons from the third layer of the Abyss. It’s even marked as a forbidden zone by wizards.
The reason being, the fabled demon city — La Sutherland, is said to reside on a tiny islet in the heart of Lake Nemin.
To be precise, the location of La Sutherland is not on the islet per se, the islet merely provides the spatial coordinates for entry. The city is actually situated within an unknown region of void.
At this moment, the waters of Lake Nemin ripple and surge.
A shadow with blue skin gracefully advances through the lake as if it were a swimming fish. Ultimately, it arrives at the islet at the heart of the lake.
Aside from its light blue skin, its appearance somewhat resembles that of a human, with the exception of lacking ears. In place of ears, two curved horns arc downward. From this characteristic, it can be inferred that this entity is a half-demon.
Its name is Prapa, which means “anonymous weed” in the Demonic Language. It signifies insignificance and humility, yet a resilient vitality.
Within the entirety of the third layer of the Abyss, Prapa is considered to be among the lowly. Whether judged by strength or bloodline, it sits at the bottom.
After all, besides the half of its bloodline that comes from the indigenous inhabitants, the other half is that of a Phantom Imp.
The Phantom Imp is a type of demon with a wide range of power potential — it has a remarkably low floor, but an impressively high ceiling.
The low floor is universally acknowledged, as many Phantom Imps are destined to stay at the bottom of the demon hierarchy their entire lives. Even some half-demons are inherently stronger than Phantom Imps at birth. This clearly illustrates just how weak Phantom Imps are in comparison.
The title of “possessing a high upper limit” was one self-conferred by the Phantom Imps, yet no demon ever acknowledged it. Within the ranks of the Phantom Imps, a story from the ancient cold era echoed — a tale of a Phantom Imp ascending to the stature of a Demon Lord, a presence rivaling that of a Demon God.
Influenced by this tale, the Phantom Imps believed in their own boundless potential.
However, the validity of this story remains elusive, as it dates back to an era over a hundred thousand years ago. It remains unheard of outside their kin.
Prapa, a self-aware half-demon, was acquainted with this tale but unlike his ancestors, he harbored skepticism rather than belief. He surmised that the story was probably a fabrication by the ancestors of the Phantom Imps, born out of a need to preserve their dignity.
After all, the only documented most powerful entity among the Phantom Imps, aside from the “mighty forefather” in the tale, had been a fortuitous ancestor who barely managed to crawl his way to the bottom rung of the mid-level demons.
Would one refer to this as a high upper limit? Producing only a single mid-level demon?
Having come to terms with the harsh reality, Prapa had long forsaken dreams of gaining immense power. His desire was to live his life well. To be able to remain with his parents without being separated was, in his opinion, the best possible outcome.
However, even this modest desire evaporated into thin air.
A year prior, his parents had been killed by humans.
Upon receiving the news, Prapa was disoriented for over half a year. Phantom Imps differed from other demons; they endured a lot of scorn and ridicule, resulting in them living in isolation. Even when they partnered with native abyssal beings, they never abandoned them.
His parents were truly in love, and they raised him with the utmost care and affection.
For the sake of safety, they had even moved far away from the heartland of the demons, to an extremely remote area. Upon encountering humans, they would always maintain a safe distance.
Despite living cautiously, they were still unable to evade tragedy.
Prapa, seething with hatred towards those humans who took the lives of its parents, yearned for vengeance. Yet, it was powerless to act. As a feeble half-demon, its strength was equivalent to that of a human apprentice wizard, and against the diverse arsenal of weapons and tools wielded by mankind, it was hopelessly outmatched.
It was during this time that Prapa began to comprehend the importance of personal power.
Driven to improve itself, Prapa sought to access the knowledge passed down through its bloodline. Alas, there was no quick route to increasing its strength. The only way it knew was to continuously refine itself, a method that had proven ineffective even for full-blooded Phantom Imps. For Prapa, a creature with only half a demon’s lineage, it was a futile endeavor.
After months of fruitless experimentation, Prapa, bearing the weight of its hatred for humans and the intense desire to enhance its own abilities, embarked for La Sutherland.
Rumor had it, La Sutherland possessed everything one could desire.
Three months into Prapa’s sojourn in La Sutherland, the half-demon spent most of its time amassing a wealth of demon gold. It only stepped out of the hustle and bustle of the city to retreat to the tranquil depths of Lake Nemin. Submerged in the soft caress of the lake water, it would quietly restore its strength.
Now, after a period of rest, Prapa once again set foot on the isle in the heart of the lake.
Its gaze was steadfast, its determination unwavering. For its own objective, it could not afford to be lax. However, in the depths of its heart, doubts lurked. Could it truly become stronger? Could it genuinely avenge its parents?
The isle was modest in size and barren, with nothing but a few undulating mounds of dirt.
Prapa manipulated the water of the lake to form a suit of lake-green clothing for itself. This act of wearing clothes was rather unusual amongst demons. Yet, a handful of powerful demons had their distinctive style, setting a trend that was picked up by lower-ranked demons in a wave of imitation. But they would only don these garments in the demon city, as if by wearing a symbol of civilization, they could restrain their inherent savagery.
The reason Prapa donned the lake-green clothing wasn’t simply to follow the trend. Instead, it was part of a more profound, personal, and sentimental ritual.
Meandering along, a ripple, akin to the resonance of a water droplet breaking the still surface, appeared before it. The next instant, it passed through this water-marked portal and found itself in an endless expanse of nothingness.
In the heart of this stygian void, a city floated like an isolated island in the dark, ethereal ocean.
At the apex of this city, crowning an intimidating tower, shone a luminous orb. Its radiance turned the night into perpetual day, morphing the place into a city that knew no nightfall.
Here lies the grand, unyielding demonic metropolis in the void: La Sutherland!
Upon its arrival, Prapa found itself on the fringe of the floating isle.
Gazing down from the island’s precipice, one could spot a black vortex swirling in the void beneath. Around this maelstrom flitted countless grotesque demons of every conceivable shape.
La Sutherland was not just a city of demons, but also a crucial hub leading to the lower layers of the Abyss.
The dark vortex below was the gateway to those deeper planes of the Abyss.
At that moment, a demon burst forth from the vortex below and landed solidly on the floating island, serendipitously near Prapa.
This demon, towering over three meters high and sporting savage bone wings on its back, spotted the shrinking Prapa hidden behind a large stone not too far away after it landed. A glimmer of cruelty flashed across its bloodthirsty gaze. Seeing Prapa’s terrified expression, it flicked its finger casually.
A beam of ghostly light shot towards Prapa.
Before it could react, the large stone in front of it exploded into fragments. The blast flung Prapa into mid-air, and it eventually fell to the ground, the impact leaving it in a pitiful mess.
The Bone Wing Demon let out a few hearty laughs. Prapa’s pitiful state was evidently to its liking. Instead of attacking again, it left with a disdainful utterance of “Riffraff,” then took off towards the depths of La Sutherland.
Quivering with a blend of rage, sorrow, and self-doubt, Prapa found himself wrestling with his emotions.
In the demon city, where chaos reigned supreme and rules were but a faint suggestion, no voice would rise to protest even if the Bone Wing Demon were to end Prapa’s life — provided, of course, that the superficial order was not disturbed.
Solitary and wounded, Prapa nursed his injuries for a time before he summoned the strength to rise. Hobbling, he made his way into La Sutherland.
His mother had once told him that to gain strength, one must endure setbacks — an inevitable part of growth.
Although he understood that these comforting words were mostly empty platitudes, he had no other choice but to convince himself that they held a kernel of truth.
…
The architecture of La Sutherland was notably different from that of native cities. Even the smallest of the building entrances stood no less than three meters tall. One could only imagine the magnitude of the structures themselves by looking at these colossal gateways—it was like stepping into a city of giants.
Despite the massive architecture, most of the demons sauntering down the streets were roughly the same size as Prapa. These grandiose entrances were not built for them but were rather designed to accommodate higher-ranking demons like the Bone Wing Demon.
Often, the size of an establishment’s entrance would hint at its clientele.
For instance, the gigantic fortress visible from miles away, though it appeared to be a defensive structure, was actually a shop. Given its size, it could even accommodate a troll — it was the epitome of high-end establishments.
Take, for instance, the structure to Prapa’s right.
Hidden beneath a canopy of trees stood a small cabin. Located at the outermost edge of La Sutherland, the tiny two-meter doorway of this cabin made it clear that it catered to the lower class.
Truthfully, even Prapa found the two-meter door to be somewhat cramped. If he were to straighten up fully, his head would nearly touch the top.
And the low ceiling of the cabin suggested that the interior might be claustrophobic — wouldn’t it be stifling to the point of making breathing difficult?
Had there not been a signboard of a shop overhead, Prapa would have hardly perceived this to be a store.
“Eh?” Suddenly, a glint of puzzlement flashed across Prapa’s eyes. “When did this little cabin crop up here? The spot seemed to be vacant when I left the day before yesterday, didn’t it?”
Could it have been established within these two days?
Prapa cast a puzzled look towards the signboard of the shop, only to find a row of demonic language written in a most shabby font on it.
Phantasmagoria.
It didn’t sound like the name of a decent shop at all.
Prapa continued to stroll forward, heading to the usual spot where it worked. It was a hunting mansion run by a half-demon.
The door was four meters tall, a typical measurement among the shops in La Sutherland.
Its job was, in fact, quite straightforward: to clean the prey hunted by the mansion owner.
Prapa managed to find work here not only because the phantom water it released possessed the property of “freshness maintenance and flavor enhancement”, but also largely due to the mansion owner’s compassion.
Speaking of which, the mansion owner seemed to have a potent lineage of fire demon. When Prapa initially encountered the owner, it felt a bit of fear due to the natural counter properties.
Who would have thought that its ability to survive in La Sutherland was largely thanks to the mansion owner, whose looks belied his gentle nature.
“You’re here? Today’s prey is in the warehouse behind the display room. After cleaning, remember to lay them out,” said a tall, flaming-haired man with an exaggerated set of abs and a fearsome face.
He was the owner of the hunting mansion, Night.
Chapter 1041 Irreplaceable Materials <TOC> Chapter 1043 The Phantasmagoria Cabin