Translator: SumTLMan
Bones can be honed into weapons, blood can serve as the ink for inscriptions, and skin can be woven into armor. While the most cherished characteristic materials were absent, even these remains of the corpse were exquisite resources in their own right. Even if you took just a single one of these materials to an auction, it could fetch a handsome price. All Angel had to part with was a meager sum of demon gold coins.
Indeed, Canaan adopted an attitude as if saying, “you’re at a loss,” but Angel had done his own calculation. Apart from the extraordinarily unique Abyss materials that were difficult to obtain in the Wizarding World, maximizing his benefits perhaps lay in using demon gold coins to buy the remains of these wizard-level creatures.
Canaan couldn’t acquire the unique abyssal materials, but these demon remains, which weren’t particularly useful to her, were easily obtained.
Counting the mound of demonic remains piled up in the yard, Angel counted a total of twenty-three. However, Canaan had only spent just under six thousand demon gold coins.
Initially, Canaan thought he had squandered his demon gold coins, but seeing the shopkeeper’s overjoyed expression, she didn’t bother to ponder the question of “profit or loss” anymore. After all, it was the shop owner who spent his own money to buy what he liked; it was none of her concern.
“Do you have more stock outside? Can I keep buying?” While Angel was cataloging these valuable materials, he couldn’t help but express his avarice to Canaan.
“Demons rarely hunt these high-level creatures. First, high-level creatures themselves are rare and hard to encounter. Second, unless there’s a special need, hunting high-level creatures is a losing proposition. So, there’s only this much available for purchase,” Canaan stated with a hint of lament. She had almost traversed the entire region of La Sutherland to purchase these twenty-three remains.
Listening to Canaan’s explanation, while Angel felt a twinge of regret, he was also deeply contented.
One must realize that the remains of demonic creatures currently piled up before him, if taken to an auction, would surely exceed a total value of ten million magic crystals.
After all, wizard-level creatures are quite rare. To acquire such a bulk of remains at once, one could possibly only turn to the demon city.
“Although the market for creature remains has run dry, some demons must still harbor reserves in their private coffers.” Canaan murmured to herself, leaving Angel deep in thought.
Having cleared the yard of the remains, separating the worthless parts, Angel meticulously organized and stored them in his bracelet.
Among them, bones, skin, tendons, and the like were easy to preserve, ready to be stored directly in the bracelet after being processed. However, for blood and certain organs, Angel lacked an appropriate vessel.
Fortunately, he remembered something that could serve the purpose.
He withdrew from his bracelet a teardrop-shaped, pale blue crystal. This object is academically named the ‘Essence Agglomeration of the Phantasmagoria Water,’ or more colloquially, Prapa’s Tear.
Previously, a certain half-demon with a Phantom Imp bloodline, Prapa, had visited their shop. Nobody knows what Prapa had concocted in his mind, but he was scared to the point of tears, and those tears had crystallized into this form.
As per Fafnir, Phantasmagoria Water has the ability to “preserve and enhance flavor”, and its essence fusion is even more potent. At that time, driven by a spirit of no wastage, Angel had collected all these blue crystals. Originally, he thought he could use them in the future when encountering a gourmet wizard, to exchange for something. But he didn’t expect that they would be of use so quickly.
An Essence Agglomeration of the Phantasmagoria Water — an item that could absorb a small pond’s worth of this otherworldly liquid unto itself.
Having only utilized roughly half of a blue crystal, Angel was able to preserve the remaining blood and viscera in an exemplary manner, far surpassing his own expectations.
Joyfully stowing these materials into his bracelet, Angel, still brimming with excitement, ran towards the front door and added a new rule under the wooden board where the shop regulations were inscribed.
“If you cannot settle the bill with demon gold coins, you can use the carcass of a high-level demonic creature as a substitute.”
This idea was inspired by Canaan’s information, indicating that other shops were running out of stock, but demons might still have some. For Angel, demon gold coins held little purchasing power in the outside world, but the remains of a wizard-level demon, even if reduced to a skeletal frame, held enormous value.
Recalling how he had lured three demonic creatures in the Shadowy Caverns, it became evident why Watchtower Fortress attracted so many wizards — the lucrative opportunities these creatures presented were too hard to resist.
And now, Angel didn’t even have to lift a finger. With a handful of demon gold coins, he could trade for materials that wizards would kill for!
Now he understood why wizards were so fond of exploring other planes, particularly high-energy worlds. This was a classic case of one man’s trash being another man’s treasure. The price difference was enough to drive anyone insane, explaining the numerous interplanar merchants.
After adding the new rule, Canaan, who was standing nearby, asked curiously, “Shop owner, when will we reopen?”
Having hosted two groups of customers in the morning, Angel closed the shop under the pretext of needing a rest. Canaan was then sent out to purchase materials. Now, almost three hours later, Canaan was wondering whether they would reopen at all today.
“We will open soon!” Angel, with a serious expression, pointed at the new rule and instructed Canaan, “When customers come later, you must remember to tell them this rule. We prioritize the collection of demonic creature carcasses, understood?”
Canaan seemed momentarily bewildered, though she nodded in agreement despite her confusion, “Alright.”
“Rest assured, you won’t be at a loss,” Angel casually drew a small pouch filled with fifty demon gold coins from his bracelet, tossing it to Canaan, “This is for your efforts.”
Weighing the bag in her hands, Canaan’s refined brows arched into a crescent moon shape, the amount was comparable to a quarter year’s worth of her previous salary. Indeed, her decision to work here was undeniably a correct one!
Angel indicated to Canaan that once the courtyard was tidied up, they could open the shop. He himself ascended back to the loft, hoping to further study the parchment detailing the creation of Firestone during the time Canaan was busy with customers.
After all, once he obtained the fragments of Firestone, he’d likely have to start crafting the Firestone himself.
Earlier, Angel had thought to shirk his duty, secretly asking Lord Night if he could craft the Firestone on his behalf. However, Lord Night’s response was, “I have never crafted a Firestone before.”
Though Lord Night knew the methods for crafting a Firestone, he neither needed nor had interest in making one.
Given that even the Fire Demon’s success rate in creating a Firestone, as noted on the parchment, wasn’t particularly high, Angel decided it was better to do the crafting himself. At the very least, the alchemy method detailed on the parchment had eliminated the dross, greatly enhancing the likelihood of success.
After roughly half an hour of studying, the wind chimes hanging in the courtyard rang out with a clear, crisp sound.
“How did this happen so quickly?” Angel muttered to himself as he rose from his seat and descended from the loft.
When he reached the first floor, his gaze was immediately drawn not to Canaan, but to a demoness seated at a round table, her head lowered.
The image of this demoness was almost naked, with an object resembling both a metatarsal and a conduit that wormed its way out of her sleek, bare back, spiraling towards her crown. This coiled “conduit” also twisted the demon’s light pink hair into a particularly chic hairdo.
Angel surveyed his surroundings. She was the only demon in the shop, and only a smattering of patrons were scattered in the yard — it was hardly full occupancy.
“What is Canaan up to? She said she would call me when there are thirty customers.” Angel walked towards the yard with a sense of uncertainty.
However, he was barely halfway when a sultry, bone-melting voice filled the air, “I am a bit curious. As the messenger of Odeklaes, the bearer of the Will of Flame, why have you turned to the business of water demons?”
Angel froze in his tracks. It wasn’t the voice that stopped him, rather the sudden sensation of a hot, moist breeze at the back of his neck. It felt as though someone was nestled against him, their breath fanning his nape.
Carrying a cool, fragrant aroma, a smooth, slender hand slowly climbed from his shoulder. Like a boneless snake, another hand emerged from his waist on the other side.
With a strand of pink hair falling down his shoulder, Angel knew that the one pressing against his back was undoubtedly the demoness he’d seen earlier.
Subconsciously, Angel struggled, but the woman only held him tighter.
“What a delightful body you have, I quite fancy it.” A gust of hot air, laced with an unusual aroma, blew on Angel’s earlobe.
Despite feeling no stir of passion, Angel’s cheeks began to warm up.
Behind him, the feminine demon chuckled sotto voce, her aromatic tongue inching out as if yearning to lick Angel’s earlobe. Yet, at this moment, Angel was completely immobilized.
As the soft tongue nearly grazed Angel’s earlobe, graced with the Mark of Flame, a dismissive snort abruptly reverberated in the air.
Accompanying the derisive snort was the indignant voice of Fafnir, “How dare a lowly succubus like you sully the mark of Odeklaes!”
No sooner had the words fallen than Angel felt himself stumbling, clutched and forcefully hurled away.
After a moment of disorienting whirl, Angel managed to steady himself and noticed he’d landed on the steps of the courtyard. From within the cabin, Fafnir, who had suddenly materialized, was casting a frosty glance towards the demoness.
It was then that Angel managed a clear look at the demon who’d been so brazen with him earlier.
If Balalaika from the Resting Ground was the embodiment of charm and allure radiating from within, then this pink-haired feminine demon was the epitome of surface glamour.
To be honest, her facial features were not within Angel’s aesthetic preferences. Moreover, right in the middle of the demoness’s forehead was a slit that opened like a mouth, revealing sharp teeth and a soft tongue slithering out like a serpent. These peculiar features, combined with the eerie mouth on her forehead, surprisingly did not feel out of place. Rather, they added an exotic flair.
It reminded Angel of the images he’d seen on holographic tablets before; the aesthetic contrasts between Earth’s Caucasians and Asians. Despite his own aesthetic leanings being biased due to his association with Jon, he could still distinguish the beauty and ugliness among different races.
The same applied to this feminine demon. Though his aesthetics differed, Angel could discern that, among the abyssal demons, her features were considered extremely beautiful, quite unlike the ordinary looks of Balalaika.
“Succubus?” Angel recalled this was what Fafnir had called her previously.
Angel wasn’t a stranger to the allure of Succubi, nearly having been forcibly injected with their bloodline by Nisi in pursuit of an investigation into gender studies, an encounter he remembered all too vividly.
Post that episode, Angel had discovered through various sources that numerous witches were rather partial to merging with the bloodline of a succubus. Yet, what puzzled Angel was the stark contrast this particular ‘Succubus’ bore to the conventional image he had in mind — voluptuous figures painted in rich red hues, possessing a certain allure that highlighted their sensual contours, complete with an enchanting tail shaded with blushes of black and crimson.
However, this “Succubus” seemed quite unlike any other; far from having an enticing figure, she was not even as curvaceous as Fafnir’s human form. She lacked the suggestive tail, and neither did she possess the iconic spiralling horns or the cloven feet that usually characterize a succubus.
“Is this truly a Succubus?” Angel questioned under his breath.
“Hush.” As Angel mumbled quietly to himself, Canaan suddenly appeared at his side, motioning him to silence. “Shop owner, that’s the Water Nymph Panaces Succubus. She shares ties with several major demons of La Sutherland. Do refrain from speaking ill of her in the shadows.”