Chapter 1068 Morgheim <TOC> Chapter 1070 The Dark Void
Translator: SumTLMan
Whilst a rambunctious debate was rolling forth among the crowd, the anomaly of Mengke remained largely unnoticed, his visage conveniently concealed behind his mask.
A lone individual, however, managed a cursory glance towards him — Sanders.
While Sanders seemingly stood detached from the whirling vortex of conversation, he was indeed subtly observing the movements and sentiments of the others, with a particular focus on the esteemed Mengke.
The average person might be oblivious to the internal dynamics, but as someone also marked by the Time Thief, Sanders had a certain insight into Mengke’s thoughts.
Indeed, the majority of the ‘seeds’ marked by the Time Thief initially shared the same stance when confronted by their fated antagonist.
Sanders harbored a reluctance towards being bound by the Time Thief and even harbored a considerable amount of animosity towards him.
Initially, Mengke held a similar perspective.
As a prodigy blessed by the heavens, his aspirations were naturally lofty. The pursuit of absolute truth was the shore they were all striving to reach, so why would they allow the Time Thief to pilfer their choices? Even if those choices were ones they were willing to cast aside.
But when did Mengke’s thoughts start to shift?
Was it when he had exhausted all the resources of the Frost Moon Alliance, yet was unable to further advance? Was it when he witnessed a higher realm of existence, yet found it insurmountably elusive? Or, was it when during a certain practice session, driven by the thirst for instant success, he made that choice, and the Time Thief, wearing a devious grin, revealed a satisfied expression, never to reappear again?
Indeed, Mengke has not caught sight of the Time Thief since a certain spell-casting practice.
During that practice, the Time Thief snatched away an alternative path, bestowing upon him bountiful compensation, propelling his combat abilities to the zenith of the Southern Region. However, it seemed he was forever barred from further progression. Despite his numerous attempts to make life-altering decisions, the elusive Time Thief never resurfaced.
He understood; the Time Thief had utterly abandoned him.
There are only two reasons the Time Thief would forsake its “seed” — either the seed lacks ambition, or the seed’s “Choice of Truth” has been pilfered.
Mengke knew he was the latter.
From that day forward, Mengke’s repulsion towards the Time Thief dissolved, replaced with an eager anticipation to encounter it once again. Yet every expectation ended in disappointment.
Consequently, his resolution to breakthrough towards legendary by sacrificing the bloodline of the Demon God’s Descendant stemmed from the prolonged absence of the Time Thief.
In the face of a dead end, he chose the unorthodox path.
Hence, upon hearing of the Time Thief now, Mengke is overwhelmed with a whirlpool of emotions.
Sanders could infer Mengke’s emotional turbulence, but he found Mengke’s pathological mindset rather ridiculous.
Mengke never considered that his original decision might not have necessarily been a misstep. The Time Thief’s disappearance could merely be a ploy to lead him astray.
After all, the Time Thief is a downright scoundrel, a conniving fox through and through.
He claims to impartially seize the choices you abandon, yet he is ceaselessly implanting mental seeds, steering you towards the choices he desires.
This very fact inflamed Sanders when he heard that Angel was targeted by the Time Thief, his fury ignited like a haystack amidst a lightning storm.
Yet, it appears Lord Mengke is wholly ensnared by his obsessions, a bird caught within the snares of its own nest. Even if you were to convince him that your choices were blameless, and it was the underhanded tactics of the Time Thief that were truly at fault, I wager he would turn a deaf ear.
Obsession and inner demons, they have always been the bane of the path towards legendary, the dragons barring the way to the hoarded treasure.
Sanders lowers his brow, his gaze murky as a pond under a moonless night. When the surrounding chatter regarding the Time Thief amplifies, he finally breaks his silence, “The matter of the Time Thief, it is as unpredictable as the ocean’s waves, the more one speculates, the deeper one falls into the rabbit hole of madness. Besides, is now the time to discuss these unrelated matters?”
Sanders raises his head, “Lord Mengke, the information you mentioned earlier, aside from volatile energy and the Abyssal Awakening, you spoke of a mysterious shop, what did you mean?”
With Sanders’ words, the attention of the surrounding wizards shifts as seamlessly as a river redirected by the engineer’s hand.
Indeed, the Time Thief is as distant as the furthest star, a casual talking point for after-dinner conversations at most. The most pressing issue at hand is the situation in La Sutherland. After all, their lives are currently hanging by a thread, tied together with the fate of the entire Frost Moon.
“A mysterious shop, could it be Balalaika’s Resting Ground?” muses Sineva, her voice a whisper in the wind.
Having recovered from his trance, Mengke regains his train of thought. He first shoots Sanders a deep look, perceiving the unspoken message in his words. However, the time for altering course has passed. He couldn’t stop the ship from hitting the iceberg.
Then, Mengke shook his head at Sineva, “The Resurrection Witch’s shop doesn’t count as a mystery in the demon’s world.”
“What I’m referring to, this mysterious shop, the specifics of which are still hazy to me, seems to be a shop that La Sutherland suddenly opened in the past few days. In a short span, this shop has already stirred up a storm, drawing the gaze of countless Greater Demons.”
Mengke’s words incited the wizards’ curious glances and discussions.
“A shop of such nature exists in the demon’s city? This mysterious shop, it certainly does sound like an enigma.”
“Could it be the handiwork of some Mysterious Object?”
“Could this mysterious shop have any connection with the Abyssal Awakening mentioned by Mengke earlier?”
Everyone began discussing this shop, but without any means to learn about La Sutherland’s situation, all their discussions and speculations were unfounded.
In the end, all gazes were once again drawn back to Mengke.
The information Mengke actually possessed wasn’t substantial. His “eye” on La Sutherland was in fact Morgheim, who had once fought a major battle against him. To be precise, it was Morgheim’s left eye.
Why could a mid-level demon like Morgheim engage in combat with Mengke for such a long duration? It was merely because Mengke had been strategically placing his pieces.
Morgheim’s left eye, Mengke’s covert chess piece, could only come into play when Morgheim’s main body was in a state of hibernation or loss of consciousness. However, at present, Morgheim had no intentions of resting, thus the information Mengke received was scant.
Nevertheless, it wasn’t entirely absent.
“There is another piece of news.” Mengke hesitated for a moment: “That mysterious shop in the rumors is reportedly named — Phantasmagoria.”
“Phantasmagoria?” The crowd puzzled over this piece of news. Without any clues, they were left with nothing but a mystified expression.
Upon hearing this name, Sanders felt an inexplicable irregularity in his heartbeat.
…
On the other hand, Angel’s pulse also inexplicably quickened.
Rubbing his eyes, he cast another glance towards the receding flame-red figure on the distant street.
“Indeed, this feeling… it’s so familiar…” Angel murmured to himself.
He was now on the rooftop of Phantasmagoria, with expansive tree branches from a nearby towering tree providing a hint of shade, casting dappled shadows on his face.
Fafnir rested against the trunk of a large tree not far away.
His choice of this spot was driven by his desire to benefit from Fafnir’s aura. In this windy territory, the gaze of any Greater Demon could not penetrate.
Originally, Angel was deep in thought here, but out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a flame-red figure on the distant street. Even though it was a fleeting sight, Angel sensed a familiar fluctuation.
“It should be the chain I forged…” Angel expressed his bewilderment, “But wasn’t that chain given to Popoca? And, Popoca even performed a blood soul sacrifice. It shouldn’t appear in the hands of others.”
Could it be that the figure bathed in fiery red is a demon, not a human after all? Or perhaps is it simply a figment of his imagination?
Angel massaged his temples, a look of puzzlement etched on his face. Upon reflection, even if it truly were Popoca, he shouldn’t be appearing in La Sutherland at this time.
“It must be my mind playing tricks on me,” With this thought in mind, Angel reclined once again on the rooftop, basking in the shade of the leaves, feigning sleep just like Fafnir.
Time trickled by, and after roughly half an hour, Canaan’s voice abruptly pierced the tranquility of the courtyard, reaching Angel’s ears.
“Shop owner, I found it outside! It’s that Pig Demon from before!”
Angel’s sleepy eyes fluttered open, a bewildered expression on his face as he peered down, only to see Canaan standing at the entrance of the courtyard, pointing at a frail, white demon sprawled on the ground.
Upon closer inspection, it was indeed Morgheim, who had previously partaken in the Voyage of Experience within the shop.
“How did he end up lying here?” Angel queried, his brow furrowed in confusion.
Canaan shook her head, “I’m not sure what happened, but he seemed to have fallen from the sky and landed right here. He appears to be unconscious. Boss, what should we do now?”
Angel’s brow crinkled further in thought. He was just about to leave La Sutherland and had no desire to get entangled with the demons here, especially since Morgheim was a powerful demon who had battled with Lord Mengke for a long time.
However, leaving Morgheim sprawled in front of his shop didn’t sit well with him either.
After a moment’s consideration, Angel instructed, “Move him to one side, as long as he doesn’t obstruct the customers, how he wishes to lose consciousness is none of our concern.”
Canaan nodded. The local inhabitants of La Sutherland would typically seize everything from an unconscious demon and then contemplate whether they could fetch a good price by killing it. However, given that the reason behind this Pig Demon’s unconsciousness remained unknown and considering his significant power, attempting robbery could easily backfire.
Thus, Angel’s proposal of disregarding the issue was something Canaan found agreeable.
Utilizing a spell that created a pair of illusory water arms, she hoisted Morgheim and carefully situated him under a massive tree at the edge of the woods.
After seeing to Morgheim’s placement, Canaan prepared to return. However, at this juncture, a peculiar occurrence transpired in the unconscious Morgheim’s left eye.
The dark pupil metamorphosed into an array of symbols.
With the absence of other customers for the moment, Canaan was not in a rush to return. She remained by the side, carefully absorbing each symbol into her gaze.
“You suggest gouging out your eye? I can’t comply with that,” Canaan shrugged her shoulders. “By the way, does your left eye have a consciousness separate from your main body?”
The left eye did not respond to Canaan’s question but instead continued to form new symbols.
However, this time the symbols didn’t ask Canaan to gouge out the eye but instead inquired, “What’s the nature of your shop?”
“Haven’t you already experienced it? Oh right, it was your main body who underwent the experience, not you,” Canaan started to laugh. It appeared as if the left eye indeed housed a separate consciousness from the Pig Demon, potentially a form of parasite. Or was it an independently born consciousness?
Regardless, Canaan found the situation quite intriguing.
“What does your shop offer?” the symbols shifted once again.
Canaan replied, “It’s a Voyage of Experience, isn’t it? You’re asking what sort of experience? It’s the rhythm of water, the melody of the sea. Given you’re just an eye, you wouldn’t be able to experience it, so why all the questions?”
The symbols continued to transform, but by this time, the sound of footsteps from the distant woodland signified the arrival of a new customer. Canaan gestured dismissively, “A customer is coming. I must take my leave now.”