Chapter 1307 Warmth of Brotherhood <TOC> Chapter 1309 The Sample Publication
Translator: SumTLMan
Nearly half a month ago, when Leon accessed the Wilderness of Dreams using his pocket watch Dream Access Device, he had indeed encountered Jon. However, at the time, due to unforeseen circumstances at the manor, Leon was too preoccupied with external matters and, in his haste, had little conversation with Jon.
Now, Jon had caught up to him.
In reality, Jon’s physical state was fragile, unable to move a muscle, and hence barely ventured beyond the veranda. Yet, Leon vividly remembered how, in Jon’s healthier days, he loved sermonizing them, the two brothers, often subjecting them to hours-long lectures.
Back then, Old Pat was still around and not only didn’t prevent it but thoroughly enjoyed Jon’s lengthy expositions to them. Recollecting that period alone would send chills down Leon’s spine.
But now, within the Wilderness of Dreams, Jon appeared robust, free from frailty or ailments, moving freely…
Watching Jon approach, Leon’s heart skipped a beat.
In the subsequent hour, Leon was once again reminded of the terror of being dominated by Jon’s long-winded speeches.
Defeated by a technique called “Ceaseless Chatter,” Leon was left helpless on the ground, unable to retaliate. To make matters worse, Angel was beside him, receiving the same lecture and, shockingly, seeming to relish every word.
Leon’s agony was beyond words, his torment unspeakable. Despite several attempts to interrupt, he never succeeded.
Eventually, it was the sound of Sunny practicing her hymns outside and the absence of the piano played by Alda that made Jon mutter, “That lazy lad is skiving off again,” before he hastily departed. Only then could Leon escape from his ordeal.
“This isn’t the Wilderness of Dreams; it’s more like the Hill of Nightmares,” murmured Leon, his face reflecting his lingering dread. He wasted no time and immediately left Ocean Theatre.
Leon had intended to bid farewell to this nightmarish realm he never wished to enter again. Yet, as he prepared to return to reality, a chilling gust of wind struck him squarely in the face.
Instinctively, Leon shielded his eyes.
When he regained his composure, he realized the gust was an illusion. Instead, a towering man, drenched in sweat and emanating an intense heat, descended from the sky, landing right in front of them.
“Lord Pat, your arrival is most timely! Hurry, we are short on time, follow me!”
The moment the man landed, he turned to Angel with a palpable sense of urgency.
Leon stared at this man, slightly bewildered. The man sported an ostentatious horned helmet, with piercing and lively eyes peeking out from underneath. He wore an eccentric half-armor on his upper body. Its protective span was minimal, only covering his shoulders, leaving the rest exposed.
What astonished Leon the most was the man’s missing foot, replaced with a hook resembling a crescent moon.
The hook shined with a ghostly, cold luminescence.
“Tulas, within the next few minutes, I believe Freud will come looking for you,” Angel said calmly to the man before him.
Tulas paused in surprise, “Why?”
Angel gestured to the ground. Presumably, Tulas had been leaping between high-rise structures. When he landed, he hadn’t considered mitigating the force of his descent. The sharp edge of his hook shattered the intricately designed street pavement, leaving a small crater surrounded by web-like cracks.
Freud often lamented to Angel about Tulas’s unconventional methods, which consistently damaged the streets, causing endless headaches for the newly formed city planning team.
Tulas gazed at the hole in the ground, giving a guileless grin. He touched the bullhorn on his helmet and spoke with an innocent tone, “It slipped my mind.”
“Dwelling on such trivialities is so mundane,” Tulas remarked, his eyes quickly shifting, eager to divert the topic. “Lord Pat, I’m about to duel that self-proclaimed legendary knight imposter soon. It’s fortunate you’ve arrived; I hope you’ll bear witness as I unveil the charlatan’s true colors!”
Angel recalled that Tulas’s Duel should’ve taken place months ago. However, at that time, he ventured into the Abyss, and Tulas had to reluctantly depart from the Wilderness of Dreams.
Back then, Tulas was infuriated for days, claiming that since he couldn’t honor the duel, that fraud must be strutting around boastfully, with the entire Initial Heart City labeling him a coward.
Angel assumed that after all this time, Tulas would have let it go. To his surprise, Tulas hadn’t forgotten in the slightest. The moment he entered the Wilderness of Dreams, he immediately set about organizing the duel.
Regarding this belated confrontation, Angel wasn’t particularly interested. He was almost certain that with Tulas’s prowess, victory was assured, and subsequently, Tulas would be on cloud nine.
He wasn’t keen on witnessing Tulas’s triumphant gloating. Yet, declining outright seemed somewhat discourteous.
Pondering a tactful approach, Angel’s gaze shifted and landed on Leon, who appeared dazed nearby. “I have some matters to attend to, so I’ll pass. How about this? I’ll have my elder brother Leon stand in for me as a witness. He was once a knight and is now an apprentice of the bloodline side. He’s more fitting for this role than I am.”
Angel pointed towards Leon as he spoke.
Only now did Tulas notice Leon’s presence. He meticulously assessed Leon’s muscular build and nodded approvingly, “You’re Lord Pat’s elder brother?”
Leon nodded, about to introduce himself, when a livid voice echoed from the side, “Tulas! How many times have I warned you? Mind your strength! No damaging the streets! Yet you dare to repeat your mistake? Today, I’ll have no choice but to confine you!”
“Oh no, Freud’s on his way!” Tulas exclaimed, his heart skipping a beat. He grabbed Leon’s arm swiftly, “We need to go, or he’ll catch us! Today’s the day I’m supposed to prove my worth, and I can’t be confined!”
No sooner had he spoken than Tulas, pulling Leon along, leapt onto a nearby rooftop, quickly disappearing from sight.
“Hold on! Why are you dragging me into this? Why should I be running?” Leon, taken against his will, couldn’t help but shout out.
“Didn’t Lord Pat invite you as a witness? This is a duel of honor among men, and it needs someone of stature to bear witness,” Tulas asserted as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.
While Leon was hesitant about being labeled as a ‘person of stature’, his curiosity was piqued, especially after witnessing the prowess of the man before him.
After a moment of reflection, Leon sighed, “Fine, I’ll be your witness. But first, let go. I can run on my own.”
Tulas released him promptly, grinning, “By the way, I’m Tulas. I’m a powerful man who could wipe out Red Beard in a heartbeat. I’ve noticed you’ve got quite the muscular build — the true epitome of masculine aesthetics!”
“My name’s Leon.” As Leon introduced himself, he kept an observant eye on Tulas’ movements.
Dashing between towering structures, Leon felt something was off about his physical strength, as if there was a latent force he couldn’t quite harness. Yet, Tulas moved with an ease and fluidity that piqued Leon’s curiosity about how he managed such feats.
As time went on, Leon became more familiar with Tulas’ techniques. Initially, he felt a bit awkward trying to clandestinely emulate Tulas. But when Tulas seemingly caught on, he not only didn’t stop Leon but also started giving direct one-on-one guidance.
This mutual exchange led to a budding camaraderie between Leon and Tulas.
…
Earlier than the others, Angel returned to reality, immersing himself in his daily regimen of spell cultivation.
During Angel’s intense spell cultivation, deep within the Savage Grottoes of the Vast Continent, a witch from Genoa had just taken her leave.
Behind White Seagull Chronicle Academy stands a tower of crimson stone.
A dim lamp’s glow flickers unpredictably with the gentle breeze from the window, casting the room in a play of light and shadow.
Wallace, poised on the edge of this chiaroscuro, allows the interplay of light and darkness to trace patterns on his white robe.
With a shining smile, he observes a bulging spatial pouch on the cracked table, muttering to himself, “Witches indeed have deep pockets.”
As he speaks, Wallace crushes the spatial pouch with his hand, and in an instant, a plethora of mystical plants sprawls across the table.
“Verdant Silent Wood, Witch Flower, Nectar of the Flower Fairy… Ah, and the Falcon Snare Garlic! Such a rare magical plant. Genoa, truly the gathering place of flower fairies, even has this elusive flora!”
Wallace’s face radiates joy. When Rivetta had arrived earlier, he had only glanced at the pouch, feigning disinterest. He hadn’t expected it to hold such treasures!
This is but a fraction; Rivetta has already sealed a pact. Once the new issue of —City Firefly’s Night Whisper— is officially published, she will hand over ten percent of the net income to Wallace.
And all Wallace did in return was to offer a piece of news, allowing —City Firefly’s Night Whisper— the privilege of publishing it first.
“Now, how best to utilize these,” Wallace murmured. “Some for the reserves of the —Mirror— magazine, and others as rewards for White Seagull Chronicle Academy.”
At that moment, a voice echoed behind Wallace, “Are you sure you want to use these for personal gains?”
Without turning around, Wallace smirked, “I knew you were lurking around.”
As the words settled, a man, bare to the world save for a leaf strategically placed, took a seat opposite Wallace.
“You’ve struck a deal with Rivetta, and I have no qualms. Allowing —City Firefly’s Night Whisper— to be published first? No issue there either. But this intel originates from Angel. Aren’t you concerned about keeping this entirely for personal use? Would you risk souring ties should Angel discover?”
“Oh, Tree Spirit, lighten up a tad,” Wallace responded with a twinkle in his eye. “I was aware of your presence; merely jesting. The magical plants contained within, I assure you, will be first offered to Angel. Whatever remains, I’ll incorporate in —Mirror— magazine.”
The visitor was none other than Tree Spirit. Hearing Wallace’s words, he acknowledged with a nod, letting it pass. Then, shifting the conversation, he inquired, “What repercussions do you foresee once —City Firefly’s Night Whisper— is published?”
Wallace mused, “It’s bound to create substantial ripples. After all, —City Firefly’s Night Whisper— caters to a vastly larger audience compared to —Mirror—. And I’m confident that Frost Moon’s representatives will be knocking on our door soon.”
“However,” he added, “such a revelation can’t be kept under wraps forever. An earlier disclosure means we stand with transparency, plus it would quell the ensuing waves sooner.”
Tree Spirit: “Have you pondered the countermeasures?”
“Rest assured,” Wallace assured, “I’ve dispatched a magical familiar to notify Lord Rhine. He should be returning shortly. With Lord Rhine present, even the likes of Mengke wouldn’t faze us.”
“It’s just like Sanders. Knowing full well the impending storm, he took off with Angel first. Sigh…”
Chapter 1307 Warmth of Brotherhood <TOC> Chapter 1309 The Sample Publication