Chapter 1098 An Unexpected Reunion <TOC> Chapter 1100 The Wound
Translator: SumTLMan
A pair of metallic orbs, suspended in the void, bore witness to the happenings below, becoming an eye cast in iron and silver.
All around, the relentless drone of the smelting furnace painted a tableau of ceaseless toil, where the intense heat, exhaled by the bubbling lava pool, caused the transmitted imagery to undulate in a ceaseless dance of distortion.
Trapped in this ever-changing view, Angel appeared to discern the equally contorted expression made toward the chain’s master — an unsettling display of struggle, rage, and despair.
No matter how passionately it pleaded, how vehemently it cursed, or how fervently it spewed its venom, the chain, indifferent, devoured its life, leaving no more than a whisper of bone dust in its wake.
The chain, both foreign and familiar, stirred a wave of estrangement within Angel.
Was this truly the chain he had crafted with his own hands?
Managing to steady his swirling thoughts, Angel glanced at the vast emptiness of the lava pool around him. Deciding not to linger, he maneuvered the scouting puppet away from this place.
As the puppet made its departure from the lava pool, Angel split his concentration, turning his thoughts to the matter of Popoca.
He still remembered the question once posed by the demon, consumed by the chain: “Sparrow Blossom, why are you doing this?”
Previously, the name ‘Sparrow Blossom’ had pricked at the edges of his memory, familiar yet elusive. But the moment he thought of Popoca, a deeply buried recollection unfurled, tumbling out of the abyss of forgotten memories.
While Angel’s interactions with Popoca had been rather scarce, the few times they had crossed paths had left a favorable impression. Popoca was an engaging conversationalist and in their initial encounter, his easygoing chatter had served to lower Angel’s guard.
Speaking of which, Popoca was the one who had told him about ‘Sparrow Blossom.’ This tidbit resurfaced from Angel’s memory due to a combination of his strengthened mental abilities and the intriguing nature of their conversation. Popoca had started with a self-deprecating joke about his own name, a jest that had left a lasting impression on Angel.
“People often find my name odd at first,” Popoca, glowing softly in the depth of Angel’s memory, had said with a chuckle. “But that’s a custom of ours. Our names need to be unforgettable, so unforgettable that they defy time itself. To forget our names would be the greatest insult to us. So, the elders, in an attempt to leave a lasting impression, took some… creative liberties with their naming conventions.”
“My name, in fact, is relatively normal. You should hear my sister’s. Sparrow is our national bird and my father, wanting her name to be memorable, straightforwardly named her ‘Sparrow Blossom’. Funny, isn’t it?”
Back then, Popoca’s self-deprecating humor as he explained the peculiarities of his name had deeply struck Angel.
This can be likened to decorating a frame around the images in one’s memory. Amid the sweeping cliffs of time, Angel tends to forget many details, casting numerous names to the back of his mind. But this very conversation, it seems, is rather hard for him to forget. Just as Popoca himself professed: even if we have to defy time, even if we have to be laughed at, our names must be remembered at first hearing.
And indeed, Angel has not forgotten; consequently, he recalls the moniker of Sparrow Blossom.
Since Popoca once admitted in person that Sparrow Blossom was his sister. Given the various related clues prior to this, whether it’s the chain Angel personally crafted or his striking resemblance to Popoca, one could easily discard the prefix “suspected”. That demon is indeed Popoca!
“Before, Popoca seemed to have spouted some nonsensical words. Something about being ‘devoured by that insatiable old man’ and ‘becoming the fuel to rekindle our clan’s fire’…”
What does that even mean? And what about ‘our clan’? Isn’t he human? The identity of Popoca as a human was clearly recorded on his bone card back then.
The deeper Angel delved into thought, the more bizarre Popoca appeared. The words he said, the simple effect of the chain, and the Blood Soul Sacrifice… A series of events seemed connected by an unknown thread. Yet, if one doesn’t grasp the inherent logic, it still appears as if veiled by a gauzy curtain, hazy and unfathomable.
There is also the unresolved mystery about Sparrow Blossom.
When Angel first heard the name Sparrow Blossom, a spark of insight flickered across his mind. However, upon reflection now, he is unable to retrieve any answer from that flicker.
“Beyond being Popoca’s sister, have I encountered the name Sparrow Blossom in some other context?” Angel pondered for a moment, but it seemed his memory bore no other information about Sparrow Blossom. Where then did that spark of recollection originate?
The trail for Sparrow Blossom ended abruptly, and for all his consideration, Angel found no answers about Popoca either. He resolved to set it aside for the time being, until he found Popoca or another human to question.
Perhaps, Popoca was merely a scout dispatched to the demon city by the wizard organization. Of course, this probability was infinitesimal. Even if they needed a scout for reconnaissance, they wouldn’t assign an apprentice to such a perilous place.
Now that the molten lava pool had been exhausted of all elements worth exploring, Angel shifted his gaze to the “Raincloud Cage” he had discovered earlier.
He had previously sent a scouting puppet to investigate, but communication was lost as soon as it entered.
As Angel’s attention had been focused on the lava pool, he wasn’t clear about what transpired. He prepared to venture once more into the unknown.
Controlling a scouting puppet near the lava pool, he directed it towards the area where the Raincloud Cage was located.
Some time had passed, and the Raincloud Cage now appeared even more formidable than before.
The ominous low clouds in the sky and the unceasingly burning fumes on the ground had completely sealed off the area. From a distance, nothing could be seen apart from swirling clouds and the faint outline of buildings shrouded in the mist.
As the scouting puppet drew closer, Angel clearly felt the image becoming blurry.
Both the clouds and the disruptive energy fluctuations contributed to this obscurity.
As the scouting puppet was about to penetrate the Raincloud Cage, the scene abruptly turned black, severing the video transmission.
This time, Angel understood why the scouting puppet had previously lost connection. Although the transmission was cut off, before it did, Angel clearly heard the tumultuous sounds of battle within, and it was even more intense than what he had heard before, as if the conflict had escalated to a fever pitch.
A clash undoubtedly exceeding wizard level.
A conflict of this magnitude, its energy fluctuations could even pierce through the void, making it virtually impossible for a low-level alchemical item like the scouting puppet to pry into such an energy-disrupted area. Unless Angel upgraded the materials to create mid-to-high rank scouting puppets. But even if he was to start now, it would be too late.
Unable to pry into the Raincloud Cage, Angel felt a certain sense of helplessness. All he could do was redirect a scouting puppet to loiter nearby, waiting for the conclusion of the battle, and then reassess the situation.
As the scouting puppet here kept hitting walls, Angel was feeling rather dejected. Meanwhile, the scouting puppet flying towards the direction of the central city area brought news.
Angel had spotted Canaan.
Earlier, when a large area of fire patterns appeared in the sky and countless flames began to go out of control, Canaan flew out of the shop, saying she was going out to investigate the situation. Later, when the flow of fire occurred, the sea of fire covered the Phantasmagoric Cabin, and Fafnir opened the Domain of Wind… throughout this series of events, Canaan never came back.
Angel was initially worried, but considering that Canaan was a water-affinity half-demon, she wouldn’t experience uncontrolled fire. Plus, she was very familiar with La Sutherland, so there shouldn’t be any problems, hence Angel didn’t think much of it.
In Angel’s perspective, it might be for the best that they parted ways. After all, his affairs in La Sutherland were settled, and he was already set to return to Ice Valley.
However, much to his surprise, he once again caught Sight of Canaan’s Trail — this time through the eyes of his scouting puppet.
Canaan’s situation seemed quite dire. She lay beneath a wavering cliff, hidden by a rock and perfectly concealed. The only reason he was able to locate her was due to the substantial smoke billowing from Canaan’s location, which caught the puppet’s attention.
Upon closer inspection, Angel found out that the smoke was, in fact, rising from Canaan’s blood which was being evaporated by the scorching earth.
Yes, blood.
Canaan was soaked in a pool of her own blood, a grim sight indeed. A terrifying, dark blood hole pierced through her abdomen from which most of the blood flowed. The only silver lining was that Canaan was still conscious. A thin layer of water glimmering around the bloody hole seemed to offer some sort of healing effect. However, the healing was far from enough, and the blood continued to spill out.
Canaan’s face was pale, eyes wide open in panic, repeatedly mumbling the same phrase.
Listening carefully through the puppet, Angel realized Canaan was saying, “I can’t sleep, if I sleep, I can’t maintain the healing effect, I’ll die… I don’t want to die, I can’t sleep…”
Canaan’s fierce will to live allowed her to retain a sliver of life despite her wounds. But this came at a heavy cost, a ceaseless torrent of agony. Angel could see clearly that Canaan’s forehead was slick with sweat, her veins and tendons bulging out, twitching nonstop, signaling that this pain was continuous and intense.
Had she been a being with weaker resolve, she likely would have given up long ago. After all, this was a desolate place, where demons and humans have ignited a war anew, so who would concern themselves with the plight of a lone demon in this forgotten corner?
That Canaan had managed to hang on until now was a testament to her yearning for life and the outcome of her battle with willpower.
But will alone is fruitless. Canaan would ultimately succumb to her agony and despair, unless there is someone to extend a helping hand.
And the only one who might save her now, is probably Angel.
So, should he save her?
Chapter 1098 An Unexpected Reunion <TOC> Chapter 1100 The Wound