Chapter 1107 Merged with the Gentle Wind <TOC> Chapter 1109 The Chaos Magic Cannon
Translator: SumTLMan
“Perhaps not,” Fafnir retorted, calmly fixing her gaze upon Angel, “it’s quite possible that your previous actions have unveiled something wrong to him. For instance, your apparent interest in the man utilizing illusionary spells.”
Angel fell silent.
He had read human detective novels before, wherein a perceptive detective would dissect every suspicious action, abnormal behavior, or even the slightest detail about an individual, painting an elaborate profile of his subject. Angel had never met Lord Mengke in person, but the demeanor of those around him, coupled with the omnipresent aura shared by the masked man and Rhine, were clear indicators of his identity — Mengke. A wizard reigning over the Southern Region would undoubtedly have an insight far superior to any human detective.
Perhaps Mengke had been allowing Fafnir’s subtle breeze to observe all along, intending to use this as a means to ascertain the identity and purpose of the entity behind the wind.
As this occurred to Angel, he understood Fafnir’s implication. However, he feigned ignorance under Fafnir’s intense scrutiny, “Were my actions unusual? Lady Fafnir, it was your wind that was directed, I have no control over the wind.”
“You may not control the wind, but you can control your gaze,” Fafnir responded succinctly, not dwelling on Mengke, and abruptly changed the subject, “You employ illusion spells, as does the other man. It seems you are acquainted with him?”
Angel’s earlier emotional response had not escaped Fafnir’s notice, and Canaan had also observed it. Therefore, Angel realized he couldn’t refute it. But then again, there wasn’t much to hide, really.
Angel turned his head, glancing at Canaan on the other end of the illusion. Canaan immediately caught on, humming along with the eerie music within the illusion, “This melody is rather pleasing,” she closed her eyes, lost in the rhythm.
It seemed that Canaan “presumably” could no longer hear their conversation.
Chuckling inwardly, Angel shook his head. He wasn’t unwilling to shatter that layer of pretense, but given their differing positions, he chose to maintain a suitable relationship with Canaan to avoid putting her in an awkward position. For example, Canaan didn’t “know” he was a human, and was merely an employee hired by him.
Raising his head to meet Fafnir’s gaze, Angel admitted, “Indeed, I know him. He is my mentor, guiding me on the path to wizardry. The illusion spells I possess were taught by him.”
Despite Angel’s earnest admission, Fafnir didn’t react. Instead, it was Canaan behind him who choked on her spit in shock. When Angel looked back, Canaan was pretending to be engrossed in the music, but the rhythmic twitching beneath her closed eyelids betrayed an inner turmoil far from the calm facade she put forth.
Angel had expected Fafnir to probe further — about Sanders’ information, his illusion spells, intelligence on Mengke, or even the human plan. However, Fafnir didn’t pose any of these questions.
Fafnir responded with an air of aloofness, “It appears so. It seems the one who beckoned you from the celestial ether was not your mentor after all.”
Angel, caught off guard, took a moment to comprehend, Fafnir was referring to the incident when they first crossed paths in Whispering Wind Valley.
An unexpected event unfolded then. Under the oppressive terror emanating from Fafnir, Angel teetered on the brink within the storm. Simultaneously, peculiar verdant vines sprouted from his back, and a voice whispered in his ear, asking if it was he who was calling upon them.
Angel repeatedly denied, and the whispers gradually faded away.
Later, when Angel started to reel in the green vines from his back, it dawned on him that those vines were probably some kind of spatial anchor. Had he accepted the call then, the one whispering in his ear might have crossed boundless worlds to arrive.
Although Fafnir did not directly inquire about the identity of the celestial entity back then, she subtly hinted a few times, and Angel’s responses were evasive and hesitant. Eventually, Fafnir ceased asking.
Deep down, Angel had a vague suspicion that the one in question was probably Shava.
He could not reveal to Fafnir that the one who had called upon him initially was not his mentor but possibly his own projection in the Nightmare Plane.
——Although this was a conjecture made by Sanders, Angel himself still held doubts regarding the notion of the projection.
Fafnir stared at Angel, curious about his reaction to the mention of the entity that had once instilled in her fear to the extent of making her want to prostrate. However, Angel merely smiled faintly, as if he had heard nothing at all.
“Your acting skills leave much to be desired compared to Canaan. Perhaps, you should learn a thing or two about theatrics from the one pulling the strings,” Fafnir pointed towards Mumin in the illusion.
Angel remained silent, only faithfully replicating the state of the skies in the illusion.
For instance, he even accentuated the profuse sweat streaming down Mumin’s face with a close-up shot.
“It appears he won’t be able to hold out much longer,” Canaan commented once the conversation ceased drifting into topics beyond her understanding. “Once he can’t keep it up, Minotaur and the others should be able to break free, right?”
It was clear Canaan still remembered what Fafnir had said earlier: despite the wretched states of Minotaur and Baphomet, with broken bones, blindness, and internal injuries, their core combat power had not diminished significantly. They would recover quickly once freed.
Fafnir replied with an air of nonchalance, “Not necessarily. Given the ability to keep them captive on the stage for such a long duration, there should be more to the strategy than merely orchestrating their dance in line with the narrative backdrop.”
Fafnir’s conjecture was not unfounded. When Mumin abruptly pulled Eudecernos onto the puppet stage as a new “actor,” it was entirely unexpected.
While the two demons continued to feign weakness through cunning and deceptive means, nobody could truly assert that the human side was fooled by their act.
Angel’s eyes lit up, following Canaan’s train of thought, he asked, “Does that mean, according to you, there’s a high possibility of victory for the human camp?”
Fafnir retorted indifferently, “What do you think?”
Angel shook his head. As a mere apprentice of the magical arts, he found the power of a fully-fledged wizard elusive, let alone the power close to the legendary realm.
“Candidly, you have yet to fathom the inherent flaw of your kind,” Fafnir pronounced icily.
Canaan hastily clapped her hands over her ears, choosing to block out the condescending ‘your kind.’
“Have you chosen to conveniently ignore the discord that erupted between that man and your mentor?”
Discord? Angel promptly realized Fafnir was alluding to the fissure between Sanders and Nereus, leading to the internal strife within the human camp.
Utilizing the window provided by the wind, Angel had initially observed the undercurrents coursing beneath the surface of the floating iceberg. Not only was there dissonance between Sanders and Nereus, but it also seemed another force intended to make a move against Sanders.
Those wizards dressed in green robes, their skin as cracked and rough as tree bark.
Angel racked his brain, recalling their attire, a sense of familiarity stirring. The emblem they bore seemed to represent… the Gravity Forest denizens?
Angel had heard rumors that although Sanders’ Wizard Garden was of his own creation, the primary component — the Fragment of Constant — was forcibly taken from the individuals of Gravity Forest. Consequently, resentment had festered within Gravity Forest, and they had harbored intentions against Sanders for quite some time.
Thus, despite the human group appearing unified, in reality, it was riddled with a myriad of contradictions. And this wasn’t exclusive to Sanders; perhaps others were also embroiled in internal conflicts.
Furthermore, Angel hadn’t forgotten Popoca. His alias, Sparrow Blossom, appearing in La Sutherland likely had its own motives. Perhaps the originator behind him was also lurking on the floating iceberg.
Fafnir’s insinuation was now crystal clear: with such in-fighting amongst the human group, what grounds did they have to presume victory?
Admittedly, not all demons were in complete solidarity either.
Fafnir stated indifferently, “Currently, it’s a power struggle between two wood-boring beetles. The victor hinges on who can persist and who has the greater number of cards up their sleeve.”
The triumph Fafnir referred to concerned the animosity between the human group and the Great Demons, whereas Lord Night and Lady Olucia were accounted separately.
Deep within, Angel inclined towards the human group prevailing. Furthermore, when it came to hidden trump cards, he suspected humans to have the upper hand. At least as it stood, humans hadn’t yet deployed strategic weapons or invoked the use of any Mysterious Objects.
Angel was acutely aware that Sanders possessed at least one Mysterious Object — the Grudge Doll.
He was confident that the other formal wizards, more or less, likely held similar objects. Although Mysterious Objects each had their unique effects and weren’t necessarily applicable in the current circumstance, it was this enigmatic uncertainty that made predicting the outcome of this battle exceedingly complex.
The situation on the field was noticeably shifting.
In the full view of humankind, Mumin boldly demonstrated his prowess, coercing Eudecernos into a peculiar puppet performance, significantly boosting the morale of the human race. However, new perils and the impending repercussions of such audacious showmanship lurk right around the corner.
One of the seven Great Demons of the Void Obelisk, Iadase, revealed itself beyond the floating iceberg following the fall of Eudecernos. Prepared now, Iadase was impervious to being ensnared in the puppet show charade again.
In the face of Iadase’s threat, Mengke designated Nereus to duel with it.
As it stands, the skirmish between Nereus and Iadase is at a temporary stalemate, suggesting they could likely sustain the fight for a while longer.
On the other hand, Mumin was seemingly nearing his limit.
After all, he was not Kundera. With his capabilities, managing two Great Demons was already stretching him to his limits. Originally, he had planned to introduce a human protagonist during the seventh act of the puppet show to aid in exterminating the demons. However, an oversight in his calculations led to an early induction of Eudecernos into the performance. Now, the task of controlling three Great Demons left him without the energy to admit any more human side characters into the narrative.
With the human characters barred from entering the scene, Mumin alone could at best keep the Great Demons under a semblance of control, but inflicting any substantial harm on them remained an insurmountable challenge.
This precipitated a vicious cycle. His magical reserves were critically low, yet the Great Demons, at worst, only sustained superficial damage within the show. Furthermore, the more they were controlled, the more vehemently they retaliated, growing increasingly resentful of Mumin.
Mumin surmised that once he couldn’t keep up, the three demons who had escaped the puppet show would undeniably come for him first. Indeed, he was already on the brink of collapse.
Under these dire circumstances, Mumin had no choice but to implore Mengke for assistance.
Chapter 1107 Merged with the Gentle Wind <TOC> Chapter 1109 The Chaos Magic Cannon