Chapter 1071 The Void Obelisk <TOC> Chapter 1073 Night of Flames
Translator: SumTLMan
Within the shadow-shrouded depths of an alleyway, just outside the colossal construct known as the Void Obelisk, hidden under the blanket of nightfall.
There stood a Purgatory Flame Slave, its body enveloped in dancing flames, caressing a crimson chain in its hand, shimmering as if imbued with life.
Its gaze fixed on the towering fortress-like Void Obelisk, the depths of its eyes flickering with fervent excitement.
“The time has come. Yi-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha… Praise be to the Source Fire, shall it burn unto eternity.” The Flame Slave, its face concealed, threw its head back and laughed maniacally. Its eyes, peering through the gaps of its fingers, were filled with madness.
Suddenly, the chain in its hand ignited with an eerie flame, a flame that seemed simultaneously present and absent, real yet immaterial.
Quickly, the flame seeped into the chain, and the silhouette of the Purgatory Flame Slave gradually melded with the surrounding darkness.
…
Angel had read tales and legends where Abyss Dragons were usually associated with power, wickedness, and laziness. At the same time, they were known to have a particular fondness for shiny objects.
However, legends are just that — legends. Angel turned his gaze towards Fafnir, who was feigning sleep. She was indeed powerful and lazy, but as for the liking of shiny objects, that was a distorted rumor.
On the contrary, it was Canaan who had an unusual obsession with all things bright and sparkly.
Angel lowered his gaze, looking down from the eaves.
After the inversion of day and night in La Sutherland, Canaan exhibited a completely different persona than before. She was humming a carefree tune, hopping and skipping around like a butterfly dancing amongst the blossoms, leisurely moving around the Phantasmagoria Cabin.
With every few steps, Canaan would take out a dazzling, cerulean-hued gem, imbued with a radiant glow, setting it in the surrounding area.
In a matter of minutes, the Phantasmagoria Cabin was shrouded in an azure stream of light, from a distance, it resembled a tranquil crystal palace nestled at the seabed. The radiance danced and flickered, crafting an illusion as if it were from a dream.
Upon completing the arrangement, Canaan revealed a proud expression to Angel.
Angel gently said, “This setup does indeed correlate with the mystery of the shop. However… the Phantasmagoria Cabin might not be in operation for too long, this kind of arrangement seems somewhat wasteful.”
“Not in operation for long?” Canaan’s expression hinted at confusion, “Why? Is it because of those menacing demons causing trouble?”
Angel wasn’t sure how to explain to Canaan. He couldn’t tell her outright that he never intended to keep it open for long. Plus, over these days, Canaan’s dedicated attitude had not gone unnoticed by Angel, and pulling out suddenly now seemed somewhat cruel.
“Or is it due to the identity of the shop owner?” Canaan didn’t explicitly state it, but she was aware that the owner was, in fact, a human. If that was the reason, Canaan would understand.
“My identity is not an issue.” Even though Canaan knew, Angel couldn’t reveal it, he still maintained his stance: “The reason why it won’t operate for long is because the time has come.”
Time has come? Canaan didn’t understand the implication of Angel’s words.
“There are opportunities that we encounter and miss, journeys have their beginnings and ends, between the two, it is simply that the time has come.” Angel spoke in a mysterious way that even he himself didn’t quite understand, then concluded the topic with a semblance of profoundness.
In any case, he had spoken the words that needed to be spoken. Even if he left without bidding farewell later on, there would at least be a hint of his departure.
However, what Angel didn’t know was that although Canaan didn’t understand the meaning of his words, she remembered them. Later, when a demon asked Canaan about the whereabouts of the Phantasmagoria Cabin, she quoted these words.
Sometimes, the more mysterious something is, the more it becomes a subject of fascination.
Looming within the fabled recesses of the rumour mill, the bewitching dwelling known as Phantasmagoria was proven to awaken demons. Yet, this mysterious shop vanished at its zenith, like a symphony cut short at its crescendo, leaving only the fertile ground behind for boundless speculation.
Coupled with the “gibberish” spoken by Canaan, many lesser demons have mythologized Phantasmagoria in their minds.
In the consultative world of secrets, rumors typically teeter between two extremes — they either spiral into infamy or ascend into glorification. However, the hearsay surrounding Phantasmagoria, owing to its “proven case of Abyssal Awakening”, “plethora of participants”, and “affordable pricing”, has always been glorified among demon rumors, fermenting continuously and persistently in the demon plane of the future.
This was a consequence wholly unforeseen by Angel.
However, this is a story for another time. For now, Canaan stands still in the courtyard, musing over Angel’s conveyed intent. Though she doesn’t fully comprehend it, she perceives that the owner’s resolve is irrevocable.
While Canaan might feel slightly dispirited, the fortune she’s amassed during this time exceeds her earnings from the past decade, and her power has surged more than ever before. Even if she were to depart from Phantasmagoria, she’d suffer no losses.
Her only regret might be that an opportunity to repay the shop owner’s kindness would never arrive.
As a hint of melancholy begins to cloud Canaan’s visage, a series of “clank clank clank” footsteps echo from outside the courtyard.
With the inversion of day and night in La Sutherland, all demons are adapting and seeking the source of the change. It has been quite some time since a visitor has graced Phantasmagoria.
Under these circumstances, Canaan is somewhat intrigued as to who would be paying a visit at this time.
She swings open the shop door and steps out, only to be met immediately with a scorching gaze locked onto her. As Canaan shifts her gaze, she notices the unconscious Pig Demon Morgheim, who she had moved outside earlier, and that the piercing gaze comes not from Morgheim’s conscious control but from its autonomous left eye.
The left eye shone with a captivating vivacity, seemingly beckoning Canaan closer.
However, Canaan had no time to heed its call, rather her attention was fixated on the obscure pathway nestled within the pitch-dark forest — the origin of the preceding footsteps from the winding end of this path.
Almost instantaneously, a figure of lush green hue emerged before Canaan, panting and heaving, as it dropped a sizeable sack onto the earthen ground.
“Prapa?” Illuminated by the watery gleam of the stone that adorned the column flanking the main entrance of the Phantasmagoria Cabin, Canaan identified the figure — it was none other than Prapa from the Hunting Museum.
Her initial visit to the Phantasmagoria Cabin had been instigated by Prapa.
“Why are you here?” asked Canaan, cloaked in confusion. Her memory served her well, Prapa should have already undertaken a voyage through the Rhythm of the Ocean once, and according to the established rules, he should not be permitted a second experience.
Pointing at the sack lying on the ground, Prapa said, “This is something Lord Night asked me to bring to the shop owner.”
Lord Night? The elusive curator of the Hunting Museum? While Canaan was still in the clutches of bewilderment, Angel leapt from the rooftop, landing beside her.
“I tasked Prapa with an errand.” Angel briefly explained to Canaan before diverting his attention to the sack lying on the ground.
The sack was massive, brimming with boxes and bags of varying sizes, mostly containing exotic materials sourced from the Abyss.
These were items that Angel had entrusted Prapa with, which Lord Night had procured on his behalf. And now, they were delivered.
The more he examined the contents, the more joy blossomed on Angel’s face. The special materials it encompassed ranged from magical plants, ores, raw meats, gourmet food and more — many of which were rarities or even unheard-of in the Wizarding World. Some items appeared to be finished goods with peculiar designs, their effects and functions yet unknown to Angel, demanding a period of experimentation.
In addition to everything else, Angel was pleasantly astounded to discover that over two thousand fragments of Firestone had been comfortably housed within a pouch with spatial properties!
With great satisfaction, Angel loaded the small mountain-like heap of resources into his bracelet, understanding that his tasks in La Sutherland had come to a satisfactory conclusion.
Everything was ready to go. His sole task remaining was to return to Ice Valley and forge the Firestone, thus lifting Toby’s curse!
Upon this realization, Angel’s mood suddenly elevated into a state of excitement.
While his days in La Sutherland hadn’t been as terrible as he’d initially imagined, the thought of the menacing demons that lurked nearby, ready to snuff out his life at any moment, did stir up some palpitations within him.
He found himself eager to bid farewell to this land.
Yet, as the curve of a joyous smile started to form on his face, he heard Prapa add, “Oh yes, Lord Night asked me to pass along a message to you.”
Angel looked towards Prapa, anticipating his next words.
“Lord Night advises that you’d be better off not straying far from the Phantasmagoria Cabin or away from Lady Fafnir over the next couple of days,” Prapa’s statement caused Fafnir, who was relaxing in a tree, to raise an eyebrow in interest.
“Why? I’m prepared to leave La Sutherland now,” Angel voiced his confusion.
“Shop owner plans to leave La Sutherland?” Prapa paused for a moment, “Does shop owner not know that all exits have currently been sealed off?”
“What do you mean by sealed off?!”
As Prapa continued his explanation, Angel finally understood why the source of light from the Void Obelisk had suddenly dimmed.
The shining light indicated that the passage from La Sutherland to Lake Nemin was open, and when the light source dimmed, it signified that the passage had been sealed off.
The flickering illumination of the Void Obelisk, the fluctuation between day and night, was, however, caused by the Greater Demons who held sway over La Sutherland. They had proclaimed a state of martial law!
La Sutherland had slipped into a lockdown, the light of the Void Obelisk would only resume its bright vigil once martial law was lifted. In other words, should the darkness persist, Angel would be trapped within the confines of La Sutherland.
Upon receiving this news, the light in Angel’s eyes instantly dimmed, his previously curled lips sagged in dismay.
“Why the lockdown? How long will it last?” Angel mentally calculated, with at most two days left before the release of the ice sphere, the impending doom that clung onto Toby would return with a vengeance once the ice sphere dissipates.
“I’m not sure.” Prapa was left clueless by the trio of inquiries, he himself had only just received the news. Originally, he planned to hand over these supplies to Angel, then take his rest at the bottom of Lake Nemin. But now, the unexpected martial law had arrived and he had no way of leaving.
Angel brooded for a moment: “Is there any other way to leave La Sutherland?”
Both Canaan and Prapa looked at Angel with surprise in their eyes, they couldn’t comprehend why Angel was so adamant about departing now.
“Even under martial law, it shouldn’t last too long. If shop owner wishes to depart, why the rush? Can’t you wait a while longer?” Canaan inquired.
“The time has come, so I must leave.” Angel couldn’t explain his situation further. He merely left these words hanging in the air, then turned his gaze onto Fafnir, hoping to find a solution from her.
Chapter 1071 The Void Obelisk <TOC> Chapter 1073 Night of Flames