Chapter 1103 Puppet Show <TOC> Chapter 1105 Filled with Love and Kisses
Next page password is bold portion: w2o1+uh*phET
Translator: SumTLMan
Minotaur and Baphomet, immersed in the heat of battle, were suddenly bewildered by an abrupt change in their surroundings. As they gathered their wits and prepared to retaliate against the looming iceberg, a spine-chilling laughter echoed in their ears, accompanied by an eerie tune that felt unnerving to their very core.
“Who might you be? Today is exceptional, everyone dons a mask…”
A tinkling sound, as if emanating from a revolving music box, permeated the frosty air with a resonance like a collision of metal.
With a swift jolt, Minotaur raised its gaze towards the origin of the sound overhead.
Its full form was obscure, stationed high in the sky. All that was discernible was a pallid puppet’s skull that eerily resembled a child peering over a table’s edge. Its mouth, held open in an unsettling arc, hummed an ominous ballad.
“Who might you be~? Your mask is a bull’s head, and mine is a shadow…”
“Who might you be~? Let me cleave off your mask with an axe, and discover the true face behind the bloody shadow.”
Initially, the two formidable demons could manipulate their own actions, but as the lyrics transmitted, they realized they were in an uncanny dance. Every part of their bodies felt bound by invisible threads, moving to the rhythm of the ghostly puppet aloft.
Baphomet, gripping its axe, stared at Minotaur with crimson fury in its eyes. “I can’t control myself, move away quickly!”
Yet, as its voice trailed off, another eerie syllable emerged from its throat. With a sense of rhythm, the syllables sprang forth, “Who might you be~? Let me see your true face.”
At this juncture, Minotaur found himself unable to move, forced to witness the impending descent of Baphomet’s mighty axe aimed squarely at his own skull.
As a bloody dent appeared on his head, Minotaur revealed a sinister grin, “Who am I, you ask~? I’m but a peculiar marionette.”
The song seemed to reach the end of a small act at this point. As the act shifted, Minotaur and Baphomet seemed to be yelling at each other, yet their hands came together, controlled by invisible strings, performing a grotesque duet of a marionette dance.
A scene enough to make one question their own sight unfurled on this illusory stage.
The second act of this drama began as their dance concluded. The eerie tune continued to pour out of the white puppet that loomed over them.
The new act shifted from —Who Might You Be— to —Who Are You Seeking—. In the first act, Baphomet launched his assault on Minotaur, guided by the lyrics. In contrast, the second act saw Minotaur as the protagonist, an avenger, set to discover Baphomet who hides behind the mask.
The unfolding lyrics determined the ensuing changes on the stage, with the two sole “actors” obliged to perform corresponding scenes.
Thus, the impending lyrics became the shared nightmare of these two formidable demons.
Terror filled Baphomet’s eyes. He retreated incessantly, aiming to escape the stage. However, the illusory strings bound him to this spot utterly. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t snap the strings…to be precise, he couldn’t even perceive where the strings were.
These strings seemed to merely manifest in reality, while their true form lurked in an unknown, alien space.
“We must find the location of the thread within the otherworldly formation and shatter it, only then can we escape this stage.” Baphomet immediately grasped this fact, but where was this otherworldly formation that harbored the thread? This was still a quandary. What Baphomet could do was to conceive a way to shatter reality, using the breadcrumbs that spilled out when the void was fractured, to trace its path.
Baphomet’s plans seemed sound, but just as it resolved to carry out this strategy, a new tune resounded from above:
“Who Are You Seeking~? The avenger peers out from behind the wall, hehe, I’ve found you.”
Baphomet spun around instantly, only to see Minotaur peeping out from behind the spectral wall on the stage, flashing an eerie grin at Baphomet: “Hehe, I’ve found you!”
The Constant Cycle of Acts, the actors on the stage are absorbed in their dedicated performances. Only that these performances were laced with mystery and bloodshed.
Every wizard watching this puppet show felt a chill run down their spine, beads of cold sweat breaking out on their backs.
An illusionary stage, a handful of threads, and a bit of song. These were enough to reduce these two mighty demons to prisoners.
Indeed, top-level wizards capable of creating spells, each one was not to be trifled with. Consider this — even adversaries of the calibre of Great Demons were trapped, forced into mutual combat. If they were to be reduced to the actors in this puppet show, their fate would likely be even more unbearable.
However, upon reflection, they realized that setting this puppet show was not as easy as it looked. If not for Sanders controlling the two Great Demons for a full minute using his illusory spell, allowing the threads to bind them without making a sound, the puppet show probably would not have been successful.
Therefore, as long as they remained vigilant, they should be able to escape if they ever encountered such a puppet show in the future.
The saying goes, and indeed it isn’t wrong, but many individuals tend to overlook one factor. The puppet master of this marionette drama is Mumin, not Kundera, the originator of the spell. Should they face Kundera wielding the puppet show, their reaction time certainly would not extend to a whole minute.
Mumin is still orchestrating this marionette drama, and he has already progressed to the fifth act: —Who Have You Killed?—
Initially, Mumin wore a face of ease, but by the fifth act, the two Great Demons, under the orchestration of the ballad, are now scarred all over. Even Baphomet’s limbs are dislocated, yet the drama does not pause.
As long as the Great Demons within the play are immortal, the act must proceed. This, in turn, gradually intensifies the burden on Mumin.
Ordinary demons would probably meet their end by the axe in the first act, unable to frolic through to the fifth act. This is the terror of a Great Demon — their bodies are invincible, remaining robustly powerful amidst incessant torment, leading to despair. This is also why many wizards would choose to implant a demon’s bloodline.
Others also noticed the cold sweat profusely beading Mumin’s forehead.
“Why don’t we band together and strike, capitalizing on their control, then slay him?” someone proposed.
Before others could voice their opinion, Mumin shook his head: “Before the seventh act, —The Grotesque Marionette Show— does not have slots for supporting characters. Your entrance now would only steer this drama to the brink of collapse.”
With Mumin’s words said, the others could only restrain themselves.
As everyone else continued observing the puppet show, awaiting the outcome, Mengke, standing at the edge of the floating iceberg, suddenly felt a sense of pressure: an inexplicable oppressiveness that stirred his otherwise calm disposition, making him slightly anxious.
Could a significant event be brewing on the horizon? Mengke furrowed his brow, casting a backward glance at Maher. Through a mental message, he questioned, “What’s the situation with Samantha and Canter? Have they contacted you?”
Maher responded, “No, there hasn’t been so much as a whisper from them since they departed.”
“And what about Sineva?”
“She made contact once before. Lady Sineva mentioned she found a secluded place for meditation. Once her magic energy reserves have marginally replenished, she will venture forward for reconnaissance.”
“Let’s put Sineva’s situation on the back burner for now,” Mengke mused for a moment, “Try to reach out to Samantha and Canter, find out what’s transpired. See if they’ve managed to touch base with Angel.”
Upon receiving Mengke’s directive, Maher immediately endeavored to establish a connection with Samantha. But after a considerable amount of time had lapsed, Maher could find no trace of Samantha’s whereabouts.
The sudden silence from Samantha and Canter plunged Mengke into a deeper state of anxiety. The oppressive sensation that had inexplicably surfaced, like an ominous harbinger, seemed to be alerting Mengke to be on guard. But what exactly he needed to be alert for, Mengke found himself at a loss to determine.
Mengke even contemplated whether he should immediately unleash his mental powers to survey the entire stretch of La Sutherland. In doing so, not only could he locate Angel, but also swiftly pinpoint the location of Olucia.
In any other place, he would have done so already. But here in La Sutherland, a region filled with terrifying unknowns, if his mental power was detected by a formidable entity, it could instead lead to his own detriment.
To probe or not to probe was the dilemma. But they couldn’t afford to remain stagnant. A wizard’s premonition could not be dismissed lightly. After deep contemplation, Mengke arrived at a decision.
Mengke conveyed to Sanders, “Hold fast here and shield Mumin. Should they survive until the seventh act of the puppet show, you shall join the performance and dispatch them.” As these words trailed off, Mengke shifted his attention to the others, “We persist onward in the direction of the southern outskirts.”
Regardless, anticipation must precede understanding of what follows.
The agreement was unanimous, however, at this juncture, Sanders abruptly interjected, “I fear we are already out of time.” With a swift gesture, he indicated the distance where a streak of gold cleaved through the blazing heavens, like a meteor, hurtling toward the iceberg’s position.
As the golden burst collided with the iceberg, its pace gradually moderated, eventually revealing an imposing silhouette.
An image of a golden-furred demon, its leonine head crowned with spiraling, glistening horns as sharp as lancets. This monstrosity rivaled Baphomet in stature and power, trident in hand, exuding an aura of awe-inspiring dignity. Each of its steps echoed with an uncanny jingle, a closer inspection revealed a golden bell adorning its tail.
Given this formidable demeanor, it was undeniably a Great Demon.
“I saw you even when you were still on the ground, Baphomet, and Minotaur. Are you performing a play? I didn’t know you had such a penchant for drama.”
As the puppet show proceeded at this point, with Baphomet as the protagonist, even though it heard the mockery, it was incapable of any reaction or retort, bound to the scheduled performance.
On the other hand, the Minotaur had become the fleeing character, casting a malevolent glance at the newcomer, “Eudecernos, instead of wasting time jeering, why don’t you sever these damn threads for me?”
As Minotaur’s voice dwindled, so too did the act edge toward its conclusion.
Its utterance served as a beacon, guiding Baphomet straight to it.
Accompanied by a chilling ballad, Baphomet thrust the murky, wrathful specter that lingered behind it into the eyes of Minotaur.
A symphony of agonizing screams and the sickening scent of blood simultaneously rose to the fore.
Eudecernos frowned, casting a glance at the sky where the unnervingly colossal white puppet hung ominously. It then turned its gaze to Mumin, who was profusely sweating atop the floating iceberg.
“The threads I cannot find, but as for the puppeteer manipulating this drama, I can assist you in ending their performance… permanently.”
Chapter 1103 Puppet Show <TOC> Chapter 1105 Filled with Love and Kisses