Translator: SumTLMan
Whisperer.
Angel had once encountered this term in the scriptures, depicting a congregation who devoted their spirit to the ancient gods, received cryptic abilities, and could induce insanity through hushed murmurs in one’s ear.
At the time, Angel had scoffed, dismissing the hushed whispers as incessant prattling and nagging; anyone would be irked if subjected to a constant barrage of muttered words. Particularly if they were religious utterances with a brainwashing tinge to them, a protracted exposure to them would indeed push one to the brink of insanity.
Hence, he never believed the whispers harbored any extraordinary power.
That was, until now.
Angel felt as if his mind was on the verge of exploding. The entrance of baffling murmurs into his ear not only vexed him but also induced a mental daze. Countless colors filled with malevolence fluttered before his eyes. The ashen white of blended brains, the dried blood’s crimson black, the oily yellow of corpse fat, the bluish-green of ruptured viscera… These colors, accompanied by the whispers, became more intense, even conjuring oppressive, horrific scenes that continuously swept across his vision.
Angel wasn’t certain whether this was the work of the Whisperer, but these whispers indeed pushed him towards the edge of madness.
The reason for this situation, however, was the statue situated at the center.
Previously, Angel had looked up to find the statue at the center slowly coming to life. After a series of cracking sounds, the wings gradually unfurled.
Simultaneously with the statue’s movement, Angel began hearing these whispers.
The whispers seemed to come from a distant decaying world, sounding unclear, yet their effects of inducing delirium and madness were unmistakably powerful.
Angel didn’t understand the whispers’ meanings, but this force, which virtually directly swept across his sea of consciousness, gave him a sense of gazing into the Abyss…
The cessation of the whispers was rather abrupt.
Angel had been squatting on the ground, clutching his head and uttering low, guttural roars. But in the next instant, the whispers ceased entirely.
Gasping for breath, Angel wanted to find the reason. When he looked at the statue in the center, his eyes widened in realization, and many of his doubts were instantly dispelled.
The end of the whispers was not without warning; when the statue’s wings were fully spread, the whispers ceased. It seemed as if their existence was only to praise the opening of the wings and to reveal the true nature of the statue.
The true form of the statue was a Hook Tailed Demon.
Initially, Angel hadn’t recognized the demon’s identity until he spotted the tail hooked with various books behind it. Then he suddenly thought of an entity regarded as significant in the Abyss…
The Cruel Scholar!
Here is the Great Demon God, whose vast knowledge even the human wizards bow to in admiration!
And in the middle, the statue is indeed an image of this very Great Demon God!
Angel is somewhat stupefied, but he knows that Rune Literature was created by the Cruel Scholar, and the Void Obelisk also bears the mark of the Cruel Scholar, so it is perfectly logical for its statue to appear here.
What makes Angel uneasy and somewhat apprehensive, however, is why the statue of the Cruel Scholar moved just as he was preparing to leave the grand hall.
Could it be that his earlier guess was wrong, and this place too has mechanisms, including this statue of the Demon God?
Like some gargoyles kept by the demon circles, they turn into living beings and attack all outsiders once a certain condition is met, could this be the case?
Angel is not clear about the real situation, but what is certain is that whatever the statue in front of him is, if it can have such terrifying pressure, it is definitely not something he can handle.
A certain uneasiness in Angel’s heart, and his brain is spinning quickly, pondering if there is a way to save himself.
Just then, the statue in the center suddenly spoke, and a strange voice reached Angel’s ears.
“Human.”
Before Angel had time to be surprised that his disguise was discovered, the next second, he felt that he was no longer in the underground hall, but appeared in dark chaos. In the depths of the chaos, a dim light lit up, revealing the figure of the Cruel Scholar.
When Angel lifted his head to look at the Cruel Scholar, it also opened its tightly closed eyes.
Looking at those eyes, Angel’s pupils contracted. These eyes were exactly the same as the one he saw when he was messing around at the door.
Filled with wisdom, indifferent as if seeing through everything in the world, and the bloodthirsty feeling hidden behind the profound knowledge.
So, the eye he saw earlier, did it also belong to it?
And that previous eye, existing behind the rune, Rune Literature is closely related to the Cruel Scholar, so this statue in front of him… perhaps, is not a statue, but an extension of the Will of the Cruel Scholar?
“Human, tell me. What secrets are hidden in your soul?” This transmission is not in any language, but is transmitted directly to Angel’s mind.
At first, Angel was confused, not knowing whether the being in front of him was the Will of the Cruel Scholar or some kind of disguise?
It was only after the question was posed to him that he snapped back to reality and began to think.
What secrets are hidden in my soul? Angel paused, is this referring to the itchiness that appeared on his back when he was almost seen through?
“I don’t know.” Angel answered subconsciously.
Angel wasn’t lying. To this day, he could not figure out what exactly had transpired with his soul. It seemed as if every individual who attempted to inspect his spiritual wound would encounter unforeseen circumstances.
“People who probe your spiritual wound encounter unforeseen circumstances?”
Angel shot up, his entire response focused on those profound eyes that seemed capable of seeing through everything.
Can you read minds? Angel silently mused.
The figure remained silent, yet their eyes seemed to tell a tale of their own.
Angel forced himself to stop guessing wildly, compelling his mind to go blank. The figure seemed indifferent, silently observing him, their gaze penetrating his very being, just as before.
“Weak flesh, yet inhabited by some interesting entities… your arm, it holds valuable potential for study.” Every word from the figure came alongside a whisper, causing discomfort in Angel’s ears and stirring various thoughts in his mind. Which thoughts came to light seemed to be completely guided by the figure.
In other words, even if he remained silent, the figure could perceive his entire being through some mysterious means.
Such terrifying power led Angel to nearly confirm that the Hook Tailed Demon before him was undoubtedly an extension of the Cruel Scholar’s consciousness.
Angel had heard that a Demon God’s consciousness could fragment into countless parts, spanning across multiverses. The Profound Alchemy Association he had seen in Sky Mechanical City likely had the projection of the Profound Lord as their leader.
Was the Cruel Scholar standing before him the primary consciousness or a fragmented one?
“Human, as a scholar in pursuit of knowledge and research, I would not degrade my consciousness as other Demon Gods do,” came the voice of the Cruel Scholar, rarer still, it bore a hint of seriousness.
So, by its logic, was the statue home to the primary consciousness of the Cruel Scholar? Angel pondered this but received no response from the Cruel Scholar.
Instead, following a moment of silence, the Cruel Scholar calmly stated, “Let me take another look at what secrets your soul hides.”
From this statement, it was clear that the Cruel Scholar had not uncovered the secret of his soul back in the passage.
Angel vaguely sensed that perhaps the Cruel Scholar had projected its will onto the statue in the hall precisely because it had failed to decipher his soul’s secret and had made a special trip for another attempt.
Angel’s thoughts seemed to resonate with the Cruel Scholar. In response, he was met with a cold hum.
Following the hum, Angel felt the gaze of the Cruel Scholar penetrate his soul.
Subsequently, Angel had no idea what occurred, but the itch of his soul reappeared and directly projected onto his physical body.
From his back, a green rune slowly sprouted, ominously growing.
Like a green vine, it extended ceaselessly from his back, one meter, two meters… five meters… ten meters.
Before Angel could react, the green vine had reached the statue of the Cruel Scholar.
While Angel felt nothing, the Cruel Scholar could sense a terrifying aura incessantly emanating from the green vine.
With a flash of verdant light, Angel felt the intrusive sensation of his soul’s sanctum being observed vanish. An otherworldly force that was within him, akin to flowing water, retreated with astonishing haste.
Simultaneously, the green vines on Angel’s back shattered abruptly.
The sudden occurrence startled Angel, his first thought was that he was shattered by the Cruel Scholar.
But these green vines were, in essence, green runes themselves. When they shattered, they transmuted into countless green runes, rotating gently around him.
Angel was at a loss about the present situation, but quickly, he discovered an oddity.
When he was encircled by the green runes, the feeling of being watched had disappeared completely when he looked at the Cruel Scholar in the distance.
Various thoughts raced through Angel’s mind, none of which the Cruel Scholar seemed to detect.
Could these green runes signify some form of ‘Shielding’?
As Angel was mulling over this, the multitude of green runes revolving around him started to fade away slowly, until only one green rune remained. It didn’t disappear but instead fused into his right hand.
Staring at the new green rune on his right hand, Angel was uncertain whether this was due to bad luck or good.
Surprisingly, there has been an Emergence of a New Rune.
The implications of this rune should be multi-faceted, like the others. However, if it indeed represents ‘Shielding’, it would be very useful.
His thoughts merely brushed over this, his gaze finally settling on the statue of the Cruel Scholar.
Thinking about it, he had been previously shrouded in darkness and chaos.
But after the flash of green light, the Cruel Scholar had withdrawn its prying gaze from Angel’s soul, and he found himself back in the grand hall from the chaotic darkness.
At this point, the statue of the Cruel Scholar in the middle of the hall seemed placid, eyes drooped, unmoving.
However, from an angle invisible to Angel, the gaze of the Cruel Scholar was filled with puzzlement, and even… fear.