Chapter 1381 Traces of the Ghost <TOC> Chapter 1383 Strange Silhouette
Translator: SumTLMan
Even from a distance, where specifics eluded grasp, the sheer density of the ghostly formation was enough to unnerve, its impact striking a profound chord in one’s heart.
Sanders observed in silent contemplation, “Infiltrating Black Castle without alarming these ghosts might not be as straightforward as we’d hope.”
Yet, challenging doesn’t equate to impossible.
For instance, using Angel’s “Gateway Model” or Sanders’ Nightmare Double could pave a way into the castle. However, while the castle seems dormant, one can’t predict its internal dynamics. If it were lively and they trespassed using their spells, they’d be intruding without a formal invitation.
After some reflection, Sanders proposed, “Let’s first address the matter with Popoca. Afterward, I’ll explore potential contacts within Black Castle.”
Angel nodded in agreement.
The cemetery where Sparrow Blossom resided was closer to Black Castle than they’d thought, a winding path from its outskirts leading all the way to the hilltop fortress.
Upon their arrival at the graveyard, ethereal spirits were already evident.
But compared to the multitudes at Black Castle, this was a mere handful. Cloaked by their illusion magic, they made their way to a deep well within the graveyard.
Yet, as they approached, Angel’s brow furrowed.
Beside the well, he discerned faint footprints, ones not left by the restless dead.
Had someone recently ventured down this well? Or was it merely the trace of a passerby?
With growing uncertainty, they descended into the depths of the well.
The well was a dry one, devoid of even the faintest hint of moisture. The ground was parched, preserving a trail of footprints in impeccable detail.
“Someone has been to the well,” Angel murmured softly.
“Not only have they been here, but it appears they’ve done something,” Sanders said, peering into the shadowy depths of the passage, seemingly already discerning the happenings far below in the well’s depths.
A minute later, Angel silently observed an illusionary realm not far away.
Back when Angel had left, he had created an illusion resembling a young girl’s bedroom for Sparrow Blossom and had left several magic crystals as a power source to maintain this illusion. Now, the illusionary realm remained untouched, unscathed… However, the innocent girl once adorned in a canary-yellow dress was nowhere to be seen.
The footprints they had discovered earlier extended beyond the illusion, hinting at a narrative: the disappearance of Sparrow Blossom was inexorably linked to these tracks.
“The design of this illusion is quite impressive,” Sanders commented in a low voice. “It incorporates aspects of the Nightmare Domain and integrates rune designs, using magic crystals as its power source, allowing it to linger between reality and illusion. Such clever craftsmanship.”
Sanders refrained from commenting on the girlish décor inside the illusion.
While Sanders praised the illusion, Angel’s gaze remained fixed on the footprints, hoping to glean any clue about Sparrow Blossom’s departure from them.
Having promised Popoca, he naturally did not wish for any hiccups at the eleventh hour.
Moreover, Angel held Sparrow Blossom in genuine fondness.
“The footprints are rather small in length and width, likely a woman’s,” Angel deduced.
“Heavy imprints, perhaps she’s unable to control her bodily strength? Likely an ordinary individual or, perhaps, a novice with innate talent?” Sanders speculated.
Energy readings have virtually vanished; one can only estimate a vague time frame based on the circumstantial evidence. “Let’s see, shorter than you by a head, slender build, likely appeared in the last two months or so,” Sanders added, his eyes gleaming faintly, clearly invoking the Dispelling Illusions Spell, retracing reality from the scantiest of clues.
“Could it be that someone from Black Castle took Sparrow Blossom?” Angel hypothesized. Typically, those who came to the graveyard were individuals who disposed of bodies at Black Castle. Black Castle’s inhabitants were exclusively female, and the few men present were outsiders, aligning with the scene’s evidence.
“I’m not convinced she was taken,” Sanders countered, gesturing towards the illusionary realm. “The illusion you set wasn’t tampered with, and the magic crystal powering it remains untouched. In your opinion, between a little girl’s soul and a magic crystal, which holds more value?”
Discounting Sparrow Blossom’s identity in life, her soul’s worth might surpass one or two magic crystals, but not by a significant margin. If someone intended to take her, they wouldn’t have left the crystals behind.
“So, Mentor, you’re suggesting… Sparrow Blossom wasn’t taken?”
“It’s a possibility. However, why not enter the illusionary realm and see? Perhaps she left a message behind?” Sanders pointed towards the illusionary realm.
A glint appeared in Angel’s eyes. Indeed, he had conjured a pen and paper for Sparrow Blossom to draw, perhaps she did leave a clue?
With this thought, Angel eagerly stepped into the illusionary realm.
As he pushed open the pink doors, the previously eerie and cold atmosphere was instantly replaced by warmth. Melodious music wafted to his ears, and upon closer inspection, it emanated from a music box on the table, rotating gracefully. The ballerina atop the box danced tirelessly.
Thud, thud, thud——
On the wooden floor, a line of wooden soldiers, beating drums, approached. Their drumbeats were crisp and their steps synchronized. They marched around Angel, seemingly welcoming their master home.
The plush bird toy, perched upon the rose-tinted bed, flapped its wings, chirping a whimsical tune.
The delicate chime of windbells rang out.
The room presented itself as a fairytale wonderland for young girls.
All the elements of this dreamscape were meticulously crafted by Angel, tailored specifically to delight Sparrow Blossom. Looking back, the swathes of pink bubbles now seemed rather enchantingly kitschy.
However, at the moment, Angel wasn’t preoccupied with such trivial details. Instead, his attention was captivated by a desk brimming with fairytale books.
Each book was neatly arranged, their sequences clearly rearranged multiple times, indicating frequent perusal by Sparrow Blossom.
From beneath the stacks of tales, Angel extracted a thick volume.
The cover showcased a childlike self-portrait drawing, with a naively written title: “Diary”.
At the front of the diary, two hand-drawn flowers adorned the page.
A gleam appeared in Angel’s eyes, “A discovery indeed!”
With a mix of anticipation and excitement, Angel opened the “Sparrow Blossom Diary”. Yet, the first page rendered him speechless.
It wasn’t filled with words but bore a single illustration: Sparrow Blossom and a boy, face to face. The backdrop? A dimly lit cavern.
The boy in the drawing sported golden locks and piercing azure eyes.
Though the artistic style was far from refined, bordering on juvenile, Angel recognized the depicted lad instantly — it was a reflection of his younger self.
In an artful rendition, Sparrow Blossom captured the maiden encounter between herself and Angel.
Angel leafed through several pages, and on each one, the naive artistry of Sparrow Blossom recounted every moment shared with him.
Yet, by the tenth page, Angel’s image vanished from the drawings.
Replacing him was a young girl, ardently munching on roasted meat. Sparrow Blossom’s emphasis on the succulence of the meat was impeccable; the dripping honey was depicted with utmost clarity.
“She seems vaguely familiar,” Sanders mused, a name dancing on the tip of his tongue.
After a brief contemplation, Angel posited, “It must be Lady Gloria, or more precisely, the original owner of the body Lady Gloria now occupies.”
The initial reason Angel had met Sparrow Blossom was the allure of the Soul Bead she possessed. As Sparrow Blossom mentioned, the bead was a gift from Gloria.
Only later did Angel learn that it was not Gloria, but the original soul of that body, who had gifted Sparrow Blossom the bead. At times, Gloria’s consciousness would slumber, allowing the original body’s soul some moments of control.
Angel turned a few more pages, observing illustrations of conversations between Gloria and Sparrow Blossom.
When Gloria’s presence ceased in the artwork, Angel finally stumbled upon some text.
“The kitten has meowed nearly two hundred times, longing for big brother and sister… Why does the young lady want me to address her as ‘big sister’?”
In this context, ‘big brother’ and ‘young lady’ likely referred to Angel and Gloria, respectively.
Regarding the statement “The kitten has meowed nearly two hundred times,” Angel’s eyes alighted upon a clock hanging on the wall. As the hands of the clock continued their relentless march, the see-through glass revealed a kitten, nestled snugly in a compartment behind the clock, lost in deep slumber.
This feline, without fail, raises its voice once in the wee hours of every morning. According to Sparrow Blossom’s notes, if the kitten has meowed two hundred times, it signifies that half a year has passed.
In this span of six months, Sparrow Blossom hasn’t jotted down a single event, implying: “This record book isn’t a diary, but a vessel where she inscribed events of paramount significance to her.”
Having drawn this conclusion, Angel continued flipping through the pages.
The following pages chronicled the passage of time.
Yet, when Angel reached the thirtieth page, he was greeted by another illustration.
The depicted scene presented an enigmatic figure.
A faceless entity, or rather, Sparrow Blossom seemed to have sketched a face but perhaps dissatisfied, opted to erase it. The resultant figure was a featureless silhouette.
This shadowy figure stood outside the illusionary realm, while Sparrow Blossom herself appeared to take refuge in a corner within the realm.
The drawing might be hastily done, but it clearly radiated Sparrow Blossom’s palpable trepidation.
Over the succeeding pages, this faceless entity made its presence known, yet it never ventured into the illusionary realm. Every time it manifested, Sparrow Blossom would hide away in a corner.
Angel could almost visualize the scene — a sinister presence descending to the depths, whispering incomprehensible somethings just outside the illusionary realm, while Sparrow Blossom, trembling with fear, found solace only in the corners, as if that was her only sanctuary.
In the mysterious tapestry of events, the peculiar shadow emerged numerous times.
Yet, as moments ebbed away, it vanished, leaving behind only Sparrow Blossom’s Chronicles marking the passage of time.
“Who might this be?” Angel pondered, his brow furrowed. It appeared they had taken no actions against Sparrow Blossom. Yet, why did the mere sight of them instill such trepidation in her?
Suppressing his mounting curiosity, Angel continued to sift through the records. Sparrow Blossom had yet to note her reasons for departing. Could it be that this mysterious silhouette was the very reason for her absence?
With this thought lingering, Angel stumbled upon another illustrated page.
As the imagery unfurled before him, a wave of astonishment washed over Angel’s gaze!
Chapter 1381 Traces of the Ghost <TOC> Chapter 1383 Strange Silhouette