Chapter 1066 The Ensuing Waves <TOC> Chapter 1068 Morgheim
Translator: SumTLMan
“Did you manage to procure the materials you had Night seek for you?” Fafnir inquired.
“I have everything else, only awaiting the fragments of Firestone. Lord Night says it will take another day.”
Fafnir furrowed her brows, musing, “If it’s only a day we are talking about, it should pose no issue.”
There exists a mutual distrust among the demons, if they wished to escalate the matter of Awakening, it would need some time. Furthermore, after the respite period, there follows a reaction time — they could afford to wait for one more day.
“Let’s wait another day then,” Fafnir concluded with a nod.
Since they had to wait another day, the question arose as to how this day should be spent, a point brought up by Fafnir.
After contemplating, Angel was well aware that this place was under the watchful eyes of numerous demons, being under surveillance every second. Doing anything would be slightly inconvenient. Moreover, if he deviated from his usual habits during this day, it might potentially accelerate the demons’ timeframe for the Awakening incident.
After some thought, he finally decided to continue the planned operations after the repair of the wood cabin.
Continuing operations would enable the demons secretly observing him to somewhat let down their guard, showing that everything was proceeding as usual. This would inadvertently allow them to be more relaxed while assessing the state of the Phantasmagoria Cabin.
If he appeared too anomalous, closing the shop or acting cautiously, it would in turn give the demons the impression of guilt.
It’s better to strategize and create an illusion of doubt, allowing the demons to invest their time in unravelling the mystery.
Regarding Angel’s decision, Fafnir held no objections, expressing immense faith in her own prowess. Given it was the final day, she was confident in her ability to confront any obstacles, no matter how daunting they may be.
Once this matter was settled, Fafnir resumed her rest against the trunk of a tree, while Angel returned to the front courtyard.
Canaan’s efficiency was remarkably impressive. Her physical body remained motionless at the main entrance, but multiple phantom arms of water were under her control. One group was engaged in tree felling, while another was busy repairing the wood cabin. Upon noticing Angel’s return, Canaan even managed to greet him amidst the flurry of work.
Angel responded with a nod, casually dragging a tree stump to use as a seat and reclining to rest, awaiting the completion of Canaan’s handiwork on the wood cabin.
During this time, Angel noticed Canaan’s frequent glances in his direction, coupled with a furrowed brow and hesitant footsteps.
“If there’s something on your mind, go ahead and ask,” Angel suggested.
“Shopkeeper, I was just wondering about the situation with the Panaces Succubus earlier, was it…” Canaan, after much hesitation, voiced the doubt that had been lurking within her heart: “Did she undergo an Awakening?”
With her question hanging in the air, Angel felt an eerie chill run down his spine. The surroundings appeared tranquil, devoid of any disturbances. However, he noticed Fafnir, who was feigning sleep against a tree trunk nearby, suddenly open her eyes and shoot him a frosty glance.
Fafnir’s reaction confirmed that Angel’s uneasy feeling was not unfounded.
Previously, in his dialogue with Fafnir, Fafnir had done something that made it impossible for other demons to sense their conversation. However, now, that shielding mechanism had evidently vanished. As Canaan posed this question, undoubtedly a multitude of demons would have directed their gaze upon him.
Even if these silently observing demons did not stir up the slightest hint of disturbance or energy fluctuation, that creepy sensation of being watched and targeted still allowed Angel to discern what was happening.
Angel was aware: countless demons were watching him and waiting for his response.
He knitted his brows, his demeanor spelling out a ‘here we go again’ sort of attitude. Rubbing his somewhat throbbing temples, Angel said helplessly, “Awakening? You ask me, how am I to respond?”
“I’m not a demon, how would I know what Awakening feels like, what the state of Awakening is?” Having said that, Angel waved his hand, signaling Canaan to step aside.
“Hurry up and get back to work. Once the cabin is repaired, we need to continue running the shop. Today, we only made a little demon gold, but then our place got torn down. We have to cater to a few more clients later, otherwise, we’ll be at a loss.”
Angel’s grumbling left Canaan rather stunned. She was unsure as to why the shopkeeper had suddenly changed his tune. The shopkeeper had only been operating for half the day in the previous few days, and just one order was 9000 demon gold. How could there be a situation where they would ‘be at a loss’?
Canaan was a bit perplexed, but it seemed like nothing that the shopkeeper said was wrong, so she could only nod her head and return to her repair duties.
When Canaan departed, the sensation of being watched that Angel had felt slowly faded away.
He breathed a sigh of relief. At that moment, Angel felt like an actor on a stage, presenting a performance under the gaze of countless spectators. He was engaged in an elaborate display, a spectacle woven from the depths of his talent.
Perhaps it was not a masterpiece, merely an amateur’s performance, but that was irrelevant.
After all, the information he was supposed to divulge was already out in the open: he had no knowledge of what Awakening entailed, but his shop would remain open, allowing those curious to explore on their own.
This was his declared stance.
Canaan’s restoration work was swift; Angel had barely taken a breather when the Phantasmagoria Cabin was fully repaired. Even the signboard that was destroyed was rewritten by Canaan.
However, this time the demonic script penned by Canaan looked much more appealing than the one Angel had written.
The word “Phantasmagoria”, subtly visible under the water-colored facade, seemed to carry a hypnotic charm.
“The shop is ready, owner,” Canaan announced.
Angel murmured in his mind: How could she be so quick?
Yet, he expressed approval to Canaan with a nod, “Excellent, tidy up the interior a bit, then we’ll be ready to open shop.”
With that, Angel, maintaining his tranquil demeanor, walked back into the shop and retreated to the loft on the second floor. The table, chairs, and cupboards that were destroyed previously were also recreated by Canaan.
The air held a faint scent of moisture, mingling with the fresh pine aroma unique to new wood.
Angel settled back into his chair, the void of his thoughts echoing in the serene shadows of the loft, idly allowing time to etch away its relentless passage.
Upon reopening the store, Angel anticipated a surge of activity. Yet, nothing stirred.
An hour slid by since the reopening, yet not a soul had graced the entrance.
“Could it be, the demons lurking in the shadows refrain from sending scouts?” Angel pondered. However, a second thought comforted him — the absence of visitors was preferable. After all, he was simply biding time, ready to dust off and depart once the hour arrived.
And so it went, one hour, then two… Time drifted languidly.
As dusk began to brush the sky, the light from the towers of La Sutherland dimmed slightly, heralding the arrival of the first wave of visitors.
Yet, this batch was not here for the ‘Voyage of Experience’.
Three gaunt, porcelain-white figures appeared, their heads resembling mushrooms, and four pairs of wing with pronounced veins. These were small demons.
According to Canaan, these were known as “Imps”, named for their resemblance to stone gargoyles, despite no actual relation.
Typically, the Imps served as house slaves to greater demons.
These three Imps, hauling a sack between them, swooped in from the distant sky. Upon touching down, they deposited the sack in the courtyard and conveyed their purpose.
“Behold the restitution conferred upon us by the house master.”
It took a moment for Angel to piece together what was happening, before he recalled that he had previously discussed with Hai about the necessity of compensation for the damages inflicted on his establishment. This, apparently, was the Recompense extended by Hai.
Upon delivering the compensatory items, the diminutive stone gargoyles absconded without a moment’s delay.
Angel, driven by curiosity, decided to undo the knots of the leather pouch. As the taut leather was undone, a skull still slick with fresh blood rolled out from within.
The skull appeared to have belonged to some sort of demon, resembling a bovine head devoid of horns. The skin of the creature seemed oddly familiar to him.
While Angel was deep in contemplation, a sheet of tanned parchment materialized out of nowhere. It fluttered down, as gently as a feather, into his waiting hand.
A familiar scent of frigid charm emanated from the parchment. Without a shadow of a doubt, it had been left by Hai.
“The skull of the little fly doesn’t appease my appetite, so consider it a gift of restitution.”
Little fly?! Angel’s mind started racing. He constructed a “server” in his mind using the Eye of Nalda. As the server worked its magic, the seemingly “fresh” skull transformed in Angel’s eyes into a convergence of countless snippets of information.
“The Void Demon!” A surge of elation filled Angel’s eyes. “Indeed, it’s the skull of Seamus!”
Previously, he had only received bones and a skin membrane from Hai. At that time, he was rather puzzled. If Hai only consumed the flesh, shouldn’t the skull still be intact? However, despite his suspicions, Angel felt too awkward to voice his queries.
Unexpectedly, Hai delivered the skull of Seamus!
The cranium of Seamus, the toughest part of its skeletal structure, is a prime ingredient, whether for crafting armors or forging weapons.
The eyes of Seamus, too, are quintessential constituents for many spatial items.
Unable to resist, Angel extended his mental tendrils into the cranial cavity… the brain was still intact! It’s a sublime element for concocting top-rank elixirs, and it’s said that some advanced spells for spatial wizards require the brain of Seamus as a casting component.
Perhaps, for Hai, this may be the least noteworthy item, and even a gift from Iadase. But for Angel, it’s possibly the most treasured possession he’s gained from La Sutherland.
This is the complete skull of a true knowledge level monster!
Moreover, this monster is a unique spatial beast!
Angel brought out the Essence Agglomeration of the Phantasmagoric Water, diluted it, and submerged Seamus’ skull directly into it.
After all this was done, he carefully stored it inside his bracelet.
Signaling Canaan to continue welcoming the guests here, Angel, with a face full of joy, returned to his loft. After arriving, he couldn’t help but take out Seamus’ skull, examining it over and over again, his face full of satisfaction.
“This trifle makes you this elated? Truly a man of little experience,” Fafnir’s voice emanated from the skylight. After a sarcastic comment, however, the dragon changed its tone, “There are guests at the door. By the way, some of the demons here carry a repugnant smell.”