Chapter 1099 The Sight of Canaan’s Trail <TOC> Chapter 1101 The Purge Plan for All Humanity
Translator: SumTLMan
Canaan could feel the essence of her life seeping away in a ceaseless torrent. But she was helpless to stop the ebbing tide, and could only do her utmost to keep her eyes wide open, staving off the heavy curtain of sleep.
Because if sleep came, she might never wake again.
She didn’t want to perish, and even if there was only the faintest glimmer of hope, she yearned to cling to it.
But was there truly any hope?
In these desolate, remote stretches of wilderness, at a time of unrelenting strife between humans and demons, would anyone remember her?
Many silhouettes flitted through Canaan’s mind; those who had shaped her existence paraded in front of her like a slow-moving tableau. her mother, who had faced prejudice due to Canaan’s existence yet never complained; her father, whom she both resented and yearned for… The Fork Tailed Demon who had humiliated her, Prapa who observed from the shadows… and the shopkeeper who had pulled her out from the mire of society’s underbelly.
These shadows tangled and twisted, some evaporating into nothingness, others retreating into the shadows, and some buried deep within the recesses of her memories.
The only ones that shone brightly were Prapa and the shopkeeper.
Because they were the only ones still in La Sutherland, the only ones who might remember her and perhaps, might even come to her rescue.
Canaan knew, deep within her heart, that such a possibility was too infinitesimally small.
The plan was about to be enacted, and all the demons had already gone into hiding; who would willingly step out of their zone of safety and seek danger? As for the shopkeeper, Canaan was well aware of his limited strength. It was unlikely he would leave the safety of his Phantasmagoria Cabin at such a perilous time.
And so, it came to pass that no one would ultimately remember her.
Despite the pain that sent spasms throughout her body, Canaan refused to surrender, clinging desperately to her sense of self.
She yearned to continue her existence, even if her destiny was to plunge into the darkness. As long as she could catch another fleeting glimpse of this world, that would be enough.
Canaan’s eyes opened to see the flames floating in the sky, to witness the floating iceberg from afar, silently awaiting the inevitable final moment… But then, a hum was heard.
It was close by.
A surge of hope welled within Canaan. Could this humming sound indicate the presence of life nearby? She strained to turn her head, eyes filled with a pleading look. Human or demon, it didn’t matter; as long as they could save her…
As Canaan turned to locate the source of the humming sound, a sense of disappointment washed over her.
It was just a floating metallic orb in the air.
Canaan had no idea what purpose this metallic orb served, but it was clear that the orb wouldn’t be her savior. However, after a moment of contemplation, Canaan decided that this orb might represent the last variable in her current predicament. Regardless of the odds, she was determined to give it a try.
With that in mind, Canaan opened her mouth, reeking of blood, and in a voice barely above a whisper, she said:
“Save me.”
……
Should he save Canaan?
A moment of hesitation actually crossed Angel’s mind, as Canaan was a demon, a creature ultimately on a different path than humans.
Furthermore, Canaan’s will to survive was astoundingly formidable. This gritty perseverance, combined with her possession of a powerful Ocean Demonic bloodline, indicated exceptional innate abilities and potential. If she were not to perish prematurely, she would undoubtedly mature into a mighty demon in the future.
The ascension in power of Hai had already imbued Angel with a sense of culpability. If he were to rescue Canaan now, it would equate to conjuring up another powerful adversary for humankind in the future.
Angel wavered for a considerable period but eventually resolved to save Canaan.
Not only had Canaan directly sought his help, but Angel also felt that his prior thought process had been an overestimation of his personal capacity.
The might of demons is all-encompassing, as is humanity’s strength; both demons and humans will progress. The power of an individual, unless she reaches the stature of a Demon God, cannot tip the scales in the grand scheme of things.
Moreover, Canaan had shown remarkable dedication when she was working at the Phantasmagoria. If it were not for Canaan’s assistance, Angel would not have managed to gather the funds necessary for purchasing the materials as swiftly as he did. This alone would impel Angel to save Canaan.
“Save me…” Canaan initially conveyed this plea in the Demonic Language but later, the demonic dialect escaping from her mouth transitioned into the Universal Human Language. Regardless of whom it may be, she was willing to seek help, even from an adversary.
A substantial amount of time elapsed, and the metallic orb remained unresponsive.
Just when Canaan was teetering on the brink of despair, the metallic orb abruptly sprang into action.
It swayed up and down mid-air. Canaan initially failed to decipher its intention, but later realized that the metallic orb seemed to be ‘writing’ words in the air through her movements.
——Persevere.
Although the “Demonic Text” scribed by the metallic orb was somewhat awkward, Canaan managed to comprehend it.
“It… urges me to persevere?” So, does it imply it aims to save me? A burst of hope suddenly ignited in Canaan’s gaze, yet swiftly, the radiance in Canaan’s eyes slowly dimmed. This metallic sphere that has been hanging mid-air — could it truly be my savior?
——Canaan.
At this moment, the metallic sphere moved once again. What left her rather perplexed was that it wrote her name in thin air.
Canaan was somewhat puzzled; did the metallic sphere know who she was?
There were actually quite a few in La Sutherland who knew her name. However, at this juncture, the metallic sphere inscribing her name seemed to be telling her: I know your name, and I’m coming to rescue you.
Canaan’s heart, which had sunk to the depths, gradually began to rise again.
After the metallic sphere inscribed her name in the air, it ceased to move. After quite a while, just as Canaan began to wonder if she had misinterpreted the earlier situation, and whether everything was just a figment of her imagination, a humming sound suddenly echoed from afar.
Canaan was taken aback and turned to look.
In the sky not far off, a new metallic sphere was seen flying over.
However, this metallic sphere did not arrive alone; a tiny pouch was tied to its sleek body.
The metallic sphere, carrying a pouch, slowly descended in front of Canaan. As the pouch was untied, a pale blue small bottle rolled out, landing on Canaan’s body.
With considerable effort, Canaan extended a hand, seizing the bottle which, as she had faintly observed, bore inscriptions on it.
Indeed, a small tag was affixed to the vessel, with the Universal Human Language inscribed at the top. Scrutinizing it, Canaan discerned the words ‘Water of Life’. Beneath it, a recently penned note was evident, its ink yet to dry, carrying a clumsy inscription in demonic script: ‘Pour on the Wound.’
She had speculated a great deal about the possessor of this metallic sphere, pondering if the person truly intended to save her. Upon discerning the font on the tag, an epiphany dawned upon Canaan.
The crude demonic writing was an identical match to the text on the signboard of the Phantasmagoria Cabin.
It had undoubtedly been penned by the shopkeeper of the Phantasmagoria.
Canaan’s hand trembled slightly, her eyes misting over with a thin sheen of moisture.
At least, there was someone in La Sutherland who still bore her in their thoughts.
Stifling her emotional upheaval, Canaan uttered a whisper of gratitude.
……
Half an hour later, while Angel was still using his scouting puppet to trace any signs of human activity, footsteps echoed from outside the Domain of Wind.
The steps were unsteady, carrying an air of instability.
Turning his gaze from the spectacle of Fafnir engrossed in consuming generous gulps of ale and hearty mouthfuls of food, Angel glanced towards the Domain of Wind’s exterior. As Fafnir’s gaze followed suit, upon recognizing the figure outside, she held her tongue, motioning nonchalantly.
An aperture appeared in the Domain of Wind.
Through the breach, one could gaze upon the dense smoke outside, so thick and overwhelming, it might have been mistaken for an eclipse obliterating the sun itself.
Amidst the roiling fog, a staggering figure stumbled in. As the figure set foot within the courtyard, the gap in the Domain of Wind snapped shut again.
No sooner had the newcomer entered the courtyard, than they leaned against a nearby tree, gasping for breath. After a while, once their panting had subsided, they lifted their head and said, “Lady Fafnir, shopkeeper… I have returned.”
“Choosing to venture out at such a time is asking for punishment,” Fafnir shot a cold glance at the newcomer’s injury before scoffing dismissively.
However, Angel welcomed the figure with a warm smile, “Is your injury healing well?”
The newcomer was none other than Canaan. Treated with the Water of Life, her wounds had begun to mend slowly. However, a complete recovery would require extensive rest.
“Much better.” Canaan nodded, “Thank you for the medicine, shopkeeper. Otherwise, I fear I would’ve perished out there.”
“Had you lacked the will to survive, you wouldn’t have held out till the appearance of the scouting puppet.”
With these words, Angel indirectly confirmed that he had been the one to send the medicine. This admission stirred deeper gratitude within Canaan. From her perspective, without Angel’s aid, her life might have truly been forfeit.
The overwhelming gratitude Canaan felt was too profound for words. All she could do was repeatedly express her thanks.
“There’s no need for thanks. Consider it a parting gift for an employee.” Angel responded nonchalantly, “Bear with me. I’ll check your wounds.”
Crouching down to examine Canaan’s condition, Angel found his suspicions confirmed. Through the eyes of the scouting puppet, he had vaguely perceived Canaan’s injury to be a penetrating wound, and now he saw he was right.
The wound was indeed in the process of healing. However, this would only ensure Canaan’s survival, not a full recovery. That, Canaan would have to figure out for herself.
Naturally, Angel had in his possession a cure that could swiftly mend Canaan’s injuries. For instance, the Resurgence of Life, bestowed by Iron Armor Granny, possessed such properties. However, even for Angel, this valuable elixir was scarce.
Moreover, considering the resilient constitution of a demon, as long as Canaan herself does not act recklessly, recuperation is merely a matter of time.
Having inspected the injuries, a touch of puzzlement appeared on Angel’s face. Canaan’s body bore no other wounds apart from the single perforating injury… He had conjectured whether Canaan had been in battle with someone else, but it did not seem so now.
“How did your injury come about?” Angel asked with a touch of curiosity.
Canaan lapsed into silence, her expression somewhat gloomy, seemingly unwilling to share.
Angel did not want to pry, intending to gloss over this question. However, at this moment, Canaan, who had been silent for a long time, softly said:
“It was caused by the tentacle of Nythotep.”
Nythotep? Angel was puzzled. Who was this?
“Nythotep is one of the seven seated Great Demons of the Void Obelisk.” The speaker was Fafnir, who casually commented while eating, “Its true form is an octopus. Speaking of which, I’ve always wanted to try what its tentacles taste like.”
As Fafnir was saying this, she sliced a small piece of demonic meat with a silver utensil and put it into her mouth using a fork. Her pink tongue licked the edge of her lips, creating an imposing scene.
Angel was stunned for a moment before realizing that, to be ranked among the seven of the Void Obelisk, Nythotep must undoubtedly be one of the top demons standing at the peak of the pyramid of La Sutherland.
Since Fafnir mentioned that its original form was an octopus, Angel remembered among the demons that had flown out of the Void Obelisk before, there seemed to be one that fit Fafnir’s description quite well.
Chapter 1099 The Sight of Canaan’s Trail <TOC> Chapter 1101 The Purge Plan for All Humanity