Chapter 1245 Scarlet Plague Demon God <TOC> Chapter 1247 The Present Circumstances
Previous page password is bold portion: 6o*rIBrAp84
Translator: SumTLMan
In the noble Arelle Principality, a frontier city lies several hundred miles from the edge of the uninhabited area of the Paramjit Plateau.
Locally known as ‘Ephesus Might’, outsiders prefer to christen this place ‘Shepherd City.’ The reason for this is because it is a prolific producer of Tundra Rock Sheep, a delight in the culinary world throughout the entire Arelle Principality. The farmers dwelling here are almost universally shepherds, each having their own sheep ranch.
Due to the vast number of sheep ranches, Shepherd City doesn’t embody the typical image of a city surrounded by towering walls.
Shepherd City is semi-open, free of city gates, with checkpoints stationed on some of the main roads, somewhat reminiscent of Watthelmgrass in Fairytale World.
However, the semi-open nature of Shepherd City does not imply an unsafe environment. Encircled by mountains on two sides, vast snowy ones at that, and the western side adjacent to the Snow Agate River, melted snow from the permanently frozen river of the Paramjit Plateau, there is only one flat road leading into the city.
This lone accessible side is precisely where several steam train tracks lie. Not only do transport companies keep a watchful eye on the tracks, but the soldiers of Shepherd City also rigorously manage this for safety reasons. Thus, on the whole, the security here is indeed assured.
Near a plaza in the heart of Shepherd City, three figures materialized from thin air.
Surrounded by a bustling commercial district, no eyes were drawn to them as if they didn’t exist at all, despite the throng of people moving about.
It was only when these three started to move that a few individuals around them began to notice. However, given the multitude of people here, even if they noticed the abrupt appearance, some merely dismissed it as a trick of their eyes, without giving it a second thought.
Moreover, two of the three individuals, whether in decorum or aura, were adorned in noble attire, hence, common folk dared not look directly at them, let alone scrutinize them.
The trio followed the road leading from the plaza, swiftly approaching a small inn nearby.
However, they did not venture into the inn. Instead, they made their way to its side, penetrating a small alleyway hemmed between two lofty edifices.
This alley was enveloped in profound darkness, the ground carpeted with moss due to perpetual lack of sunlight, emanating a scent of perpetual dampness.
“Mentor, where are we heading?” The question came from a handsome blond youth with striking blue eyes, a lock of hair lazily curtaining his right eye.
The youth was none other than Angel, fresh from his return from the Abyss. As for the one he was addressing, it was none other than the renowned War God of the Southern Region——’Phantom Master’ Sanders.
“We’re off to see an old acquaintance of mine, to glean some intelligence on the current situation at the Paramjit Plateau.” Sanders paused, his gaze leisurely shifting to behind Angel.
Under the cloak’s cover, Popoca shuddered once, bowing his head in silence.
Sanders’ eyes darkened, and with a flash of gray halo on his earring, Popoca’s figure faded into nonexistence.
“Let him wait in the Gravity Garden for now.” Having spoken, Sanders turned to Angel, “Come with me.”
Traversing the lengthy alleyway, they eventually reached its terminus.
A gas lamp hung on the wall, casting a feeble, yellowish glow. Though dim, it effectively illuminated the floral-script words by the imposing door at the alley’s end.
“If you are willing to burn the radiance of life in exchange for a single rose. I suppose, you must be mad.”
Angel murmured these flamboyantly inscribed words, his brows slightly knitting together. He failed to grasp the meaning of this phrase.
Moreover, he was clueless about why such a statement would be carved in front of this door.
Sanders remarked, “The sentiment hails from —The Florist Who Danced For Sin—, a novel of questionable significance. However, within this book, a demon named Sridhar transfigures the protagonist from a pauper to a tycoon, and eventually a knight and general. The hero pays for these transformations with his lifespan, soul, and emotions. Ultimately, he ends up with a flower seller, convinced he has transcended the demon’s constraints and won love. However, at their wedding, Sridhar insists on a test; should the hero pass, he could retain not only love but regain the lost soul and lifespan.”
“The hero agrees, and so the demon metamorphoses him into a haggard beggar. Bereft of his dashing appearance and opulent wealth, the demon aims to assess the flower seller’s choice. Should she decide to marry him regardless, the demon’s test would be deemed a failure.”
“The hero, convinced that the flower seller was still the same virtuous and beautiful girl he first met, was oblivious that during their time together, she had been blinded by the dizzying allure of wealth. After tasting the life of a rich lady, how could she wish to be with the hero, now aged and impoverished? Consequently, the flower seller left him at the altar.”
After hearing Sanders recount this tale, Angel’s lips twitched, “It indeed sounds insignificant, demons are rarely so benevolent.”
“However, this trite tale gained great popularity in the Arelle Principality, propelling the newspaper that serialized the novel to become the country’s most-read.”
Angel responded noncommittally, “Such novels, which portray the fickleness of women and fidelity of the hero, appeal to the traditional nobility. Because, often, fiction belies reality.”
Sanders offered no evaluation but merely chuckled and advanced to open the door at the end.
“Let’s go, and meet my old friend, the benevolent demon.”
Angel showed no surprise. From the moment Sanders began his story, he had a hunch about the identity of the room’s owner.
Entering the room, they found it to be an antique shop.
The glass display cases lined with gold were filled with antiques from various periods and countries. Among them, Angel even spotted a spherical navigational instrument from the Silver Age of the Feran Continent.
A plethora of treasures, a dazzling collection.
Moreover, the illumination here is abundant, a radiant collision with gold and silver artifacts, making even the most mundane objects seem dazzling.
Nevertheless, to mentor Sanders and apprentice, the antiquities here are but mundane objects, unable to arouse any significant attention.
At this point, a metallic box-like object spiraled down in front of them. Judging from its volume, Angel’s first thought was a coffin, but when the coffin door was opened, Angel understood that this was perhaps… a mechanical elevator?
Within the elevator was an old man in a robe, his hunched back facing Angel and Sanders. As he slowly turned around while talking, he exuded an air of importance.
“Those who enter here surely harbor desires. Honored guests, do you intend to trade your lifespan or soul…?” However, mid-sentence, he suddenly stopped. As he turned his head, he was face to face with Sanders.
“Uh… Ahahaha, so it’s you, Lord Phantom Master, just disregard my earlier words,” The old man laughed awkwardly, his previous grandeur instantly plummeted.
He somewhat nervously pressed several buttons on the side.
The sound of gears turning echoed in their ears and, in a short while, tables and chairs rose out of the floor.
A look of admiration flashed in Angel’s eyes. Though it was a simple lift and combination mechanism, it was quite exquisitely made.
Once everyone was seated, the old man looked at Angel, taking a long moment to assess him before speaking, “Lord Phantom Master, is this your newly accepted apprentice? I believe this should be the much-rumored ‘Music Box Magician’ Angel in the Alchemy World?”
A stiffness crawled across the corner of Angel’s mouth, he replied in a wooden tone, “I am indeed Angel, but I don’t recognize myself as the Music Box Magician.”
The old man grinned, “Your title hasn’t been finalized up to now, it’s just a nickname we use privately. Sky Mechanical City couldn’t find your record in Sky Tower, otherwise, we could directly use the title recorded in Sky Tower.”
Without any hesitation, Angel declared, “That’s even more unacceptable!”
Angel’s reaction was rather agitated, causing a flicker of confusion in the elder’s eyes. He turned to glance at Sanders and found a rare trace of amusement flashing across his face.
The elder seemed to comprehend something; perhaps Angel’s nickname in Sky Tower was rather unspeakable. This was normal… After all, when he was in the Savage Grottoes, he had registered himself as the “King of Truth”. Walking around with such a title without being mocked would be truly strange.
However, he also understood this kind of mentality. After all, aren’t youths prone to seeing the world revolve around them? Isn’t that perfectly normal?
With this thought in mind, he advised Angel, “If you wish to clarify your real name, you might consider spreading the word to some influential magazine companies, or perhaps go to Sky Tower and register a new nickname. Both could work.”
Angel nodded. Although the matter of the name was trivial, it would be quite bland if every time he met someone, they referred to him as the ‘Music Box Magician,’ making it seem as if his only talent was crafting music boxes.
It was at this point that Sanders finally spoke up, addressing Angel, “He was an old friend of mine. You probably guessed his name; he is Sridhar, from —The Florist Who Danced For Sin—. But he is not a demon; he is also from the Savage Grottoes. However, he left almost two hundred years ago, right?”
“More precisely, it’s been a hundred and ninety-six years,” Sridhar sighed, “In the past, I was only a term behind Lord Phantom Master. Now, you have made a name for yourself in the Southern Region, while I’m still stuck as a first level wizard, unable to make any progress. Sigh, I wonder if I will ever have the chance to embark on the journey towards true knowledge in my lifetime.”
“Sigh, let’s not talk about these saddening matters.” Sridhar rapped the metal tabletop and a mechanical doll floated over, carrying a tray. But instead of food, it carried several small bags filled with a pale green powder.
“Try this, it’s fresh merchandise I procured from the wizard market a few days ago.”
Sridhar laid the small bags in front of Angel and Sanders, but neither of them opened the bags. Only Sridhar opened a bag, scooped a spoonful of the pale green powder into a cup of water, and drank it down.
After he finished, Sridhar noticed that neither Angel nor Sanders had touched the bags. He sighed, “Sigh, you’re exactly like you were back then, completely oblivious to the art of indulgence.”
“Relying on Manna Algae Powder to release Salomon-like effects is no genuine pleasure. If you remain entranced by it, the path to true knowledge indeed seems rather bleak,” Sanders pointed out without reservation the deleterious nature of Manna Algae Powder. It is an addictive substance, not greatly harmful to wizards, but a wasteful pursuit in terms of time, energy, and most notably, monetary resources.
Sridhar’s hand paused for a moment, let out a long sigh, and handed the remaining Manna Algae Powder to the mechanical puppet.
“I presume you didn’t come all this way just to chastise me, did you? I haven’t asked yet, what business brings you to me?”
Chapter 1245 Scarlet Plague Demon God <TOC> Chapter 1247 The Present Circumstances