Chapter 1052 The Hunting Museum <TOC> Chapter 1054 The Silent Script
Translator: SumTLMan
Angel elucidated his purpose, and Night didn’t seem overly astonished that Angel was returning the Immortal Flame Bone’s payment to him.
Once Angel handed him the demon gold coins, Night nodded and stated, “I can start reaching out to the seller for you now. If you’re not in a hurry, feel free to wait here.”
With that said, Night stood up, preparing to leave.
Just as Night was about to vanish, Angel suddenly posed a question, “Why do you trust me so, Lord Night?”
Night turned his gaze toward Angel.
Angel continued to voice his thoughts, “Since the day before yesterday when I met you, you never seemed to doubt any of the words I spoke. If it were me, I would thoroughly verify even if a stranger brought me a message, despite the stamp of Odeklaes. So, Lord Night, why are you so assured of the veracity of my words?”
Night fell silent for a moment before answering softly, “Aside from the Mark of Flame on your earlobe, the mere presence of Fafnir by your side is enough to affirm your honesty. However, that’s not the reason I chose to assist you.”
“I helped you simply because you are a human.”
“A human?” Angel was taken aback, never anticipating such a response.
“It’s not only because you’re a human but also due to the fact that you’re the first human to seek me in the name of Feng,” concluded Night before adding, “If there’s more you wish to know, you can visit the exhibition hall to take a look at that painting.”
With these parting words, Night gradually faded into the darkness until he was no more.
After a moment’s hesitation, Angel left the meeting room and headed for the exhibition hall.
Indeed, not just Angel but Fafnir too was curious about the identity of this ‘Feng’.
When Fafnir initially discovered that Odeklaes had entrusted him with this mission, she had been perplexed, questioning why? After receiving a frank explanation from Angel, Fafnir discerned that many of the facts were indeed actions Odeklaes was capable of executing. However, one variable hadn’t been anticipated in Fafnir’s calculations. That unpredictable factor was Feng.
Fafnir had originally planned to question Night about Feng’s identity once she arrived in La Sutherland. However, during their initial encounter, Fafnir’s heightened sense of vigilance towards Night had inadvertently caused her to neglect to raise the issue.
Ironically, Angel seemed to have approached closer to the answer about “Feng” than Fafnir.
Angel returned to the exhibition hall, disregarding the specimens of rare creatures, he gravitated directly towards that painting.
Upon closer inspection, the restlessness suppressed beneath the tranquil, silent night became even more palpable.
As he gazed upon it, Angel began to comprehend why every time he viewed this painting, his mind would invariably turn towards the curator, Night.
The boundless dark scenery was the embodiment of the silent night. The burning fire in the middle represented the disruptive forces piercing through this tranquillity. The contrast of peace and restlessness, two inherently contradictory elements, was ingeniously arranged within the same frame. It was reminiscent of the impression Night had given Angel. As the descendant of a Fire Demon, he was expected to be erratic, incandescent, and sinister. Indeed, Night exhibited these traits, such as his twisted flaming hair and the fire pattern on his face. However, apart from these explicit characteristics, Night emitted a sensation of profound tranquillity to Angel. Even his speech patterns and logic were methodically paced, as serene as this boundless night.
Angel scrutinized the painting for an extensive period. While the artwork indeed contained an array of emotional expressions, he failed to uncover any hints related to Night’s previous statement, “About Feng, you may find some clues in the painting.”
After an indeterminate amount of time, Angel finally noticed a subtle trace in the painting’s lower-right corner.
There, he discovered a line of faintly colored text that had almost seamlessly blended into the surrounding dark scenery.
To his astonishment, this line was written in the universal human language.
Title: —Night—. Artist: Feng.
Angel attentively inspected the symbol “Feng,” as familiar memories suddenly flooded his consciousness.
Within the Wizarding World, there exists an exceedingly renowned painting, which is perennially featured in the periodical —The Plane Expedition Chronicles—, produced by the Frost Moon Alliance. The painting’s title? —The Apocalypse— It portrays a calamitous scene from ten millennia ago, depicting the dawn of a great Demon God from the Abyss Plane descending upon the Southern Region, leading to an upheaval of earth and sky, a disaster signifying the end of the human realm.
And the author of this painting was none other than the legendary “Magic Painter,” Mirafel Von!
Not long ago, Angel had seen —The Plane Expedition Chronicles— in Sanders’ study, where the signature “Feng” was identical to that on the painting before his eyes.
Recalling further back, the “Map of the Tidal Realm” Angel had seen in the Shannon Royal Court was also the work of this Magic Painter. Although Feng’s name wasn’t explicitly stated, the style of the handwriting was strikingly similar to what Angel was currently observing.
Could it be, was this artwork genuinely created by the legendary Magic Painter himself?
If this Feng is the same as the one Angel knew, and if Feng was acquainted with Odeklaes and Night, then wasn’t the painting in Odeklaes’s palace likely guided by Feng as well?
After a moment of reverie, Angel turned his gaze to the title of the painting written by Feng: —Night—.
This —Night— could be referring to the night of the burning fields, the night of fiery devastation, the restless night depicted in the painting; but it might also refer to Night, the master of the Hunting Museum.
In Angel’s heart, aside from astonishment, there was a tinge of pride. It seemed he shared a certain affinity with the legendary Magic Painter.
A familiar heavy footstep echoed from behind. Soon, the owner of the footfall stood beside Angel — it was Night, who had departed just a short while ago.
“Seems like you have recognized Feng’s identity?”
“The Magic Painter, a name that rings loud and clear in the Wizarding World.”
Night said in a husky voice, “Then you ought to be aware of the distinctive characteristic in Feng’s masterpieces.”
In the blink of an eye, Angel felt a grasp on his wrist. As his senses blurred, Angel found himself progressively closer to the painting, until finally, he plunged headlong into it.
When Angel regained his composure, he found himself under a night sky as black as ink.
In the intense darkness, Angel could barely make out the contours of layered mountains. At their meeting point, there seemed to be man-made structures. However, at that moment, these edifices were ablaze with roaring flames.
The fires blazed intensely, identical to the conflagration he had observed in the painting. Not only were they consuming the structures, but they also scorched a hole in the blanket of the night.
“Am I… in the painting?” Angel murmured to himself.
According to legend, the paintbrush of the Magic Painter wizard could bridge the gap between two-dimensional and three-dimensional worlds, even transcending into the realm of legend.
If this was indeed the work of the Magic Painter wizard, would it not be logical for him to enter the painting?
In reality, this was not his first voyage into a painting. Back in the Nightmare Plane, he had been pulled into a painting, which still resides in Witch Town within the Nightmare Plane to this day. Moreover, Sanders had hypothesized that this painting might also be a Mysterious Object.
The feeling of entering this painting was somewhat distinct from his experience in the Nightmare Plane.
Here in the painting, Angel found himself immobile, almost as if he was observing this painted space through a godly perspective.
Under the cover of night, the fire continued to blaze, and he could faintly hear horrific screams of agony.
The conflagration lasted an unfathomable length of time, igniting forests, rivers, and even reaching Angel’s proximity. Within the flames, Angel observed some scenes: an artist with an indiscernible face, painting in front of a demon engulfed in flames. As the painting took shape, the fire on the demon gradually extinguished, eventually transforming into…
Night!
At this moment, the surrounding darkness retreated as though day and night had flipped, and the embers of fire extinguished. Angel discovered that he had returned to the gallery from within the painting, with Night standing quietly by his side. It was as if everything that happened prior was nothing more than an illusion.
“I was born in that great fire,” Night abruptly interjected without preamble, “The fire incinerated everything, including mountains, the land, the night sky, and my mother’s tribe.”
“The Fire Demon is known as such because it carries the Will of Flame, perpetuating its existence at every moment, even when I was just a newborn,” Night chuckled, “But luckily, I met Feng. He used this painting, —Night—, to lock away the fire within me.”
This painting bound not only Night’s flames but also his emotions. Perhaps, to a Fire Demon, such a thing seems absurd. A Fire Demon of great stature should be free to blaze and spread fire, how could it be restrained?
However, ironically, once bound, Night no longer made rash decisions due to emotional impulse. He became cooler, more self-possessed, which allowed him to concentrate on what he truly wanted to do. Consequently, his power advanced at a speed beyond imagination.
Within a few hundred years, he had reached a level of power just shy of a Demon Lord.
In the language of the Wizarding World, his strength was now on par with Lord Mengke.
Keep in mind, he is a half-demon, inherently weaker than pure-blooded demons. However, where many pure-blooded demons failed to break through their class bottleneck, he succeeded. Therefore, Feng’s painting played an immensely crucial role.
“Actually, the flames in this painting can increase. Whenever I can’t suppress my emotions, an extra flame will appear in the painting until the night is swallowed by fire,” Night said indifferently, “So when you say this painting is me, you are not wrong in a way.”
“You once questioned why I placed my faith in you and aided you, did you not?” Night gazed at the painting, an air of subtle revelation in its tone. “This is because Feng once confided in me — this depiction of Night must not be engulfed entirely by fire until a certain point in time is reached. Consequently, I’ve never contemplated breaking free from its shackles.”
“And the moment that would signal my liberation, according to Feng, is…”
“When a human being seeks me out in his name, that would be the moment I can sever my bindings with this nocturnal hue.”
Angel looked at Night, disbelief seeping into his countenance as he pointed at himself, “Are you suggesting… it’s me?”
Night offered a nod of affirmation. While he had no qualms with the constraints imposed by the —Night—, this painting not only served as a catalyst for his rapid growth but also tethered him, thwarting the final leap he yearned to take.
Therefore, there would arrive a day when he would transmute this canvas of darkness into a sea of undulating flames, irrevocably and wholly.
Chapter 1052 The Hunting Museum <TOC> Chapter 1054 The Silent Script