Chapter 1390 Whereabouts <TOC> Chapter 1392 Patience is Key
Translator: SumTLMan
“Do you know her?”
A ripple of doubt crossed Natasha’s brow, her gaze a tapestry of suspicion. She pondered why Angel would broach the topic of Hana.
Given her earlier inadvertent admission, Natasha couldn’t deny her association. After a contemplative pause, she nodded affirmatively, “I do.”
“She always resided in the deep well. Why has she suddenly vanished?” Angel’s eyes sharpened, piercing like the hawk’s gaze.
Natasha fell silent.
“Did you take her away?” Angel probed further, “Why did you?”
Her lips sealed, Natasha remained silent, letting the question hang heavily in the air.
Angel persisted, “You mentioned earlier that Lady Isabelle had warned her against wandering. Does she have some tie with Isabelle?”
Despite the barrage of questions, Natasha offered no answers. As Angel’s demeanor grew increasingly stern, all she could muster was a whisper, “It’s a clandestine affair…”
“Clandestine affair?” Angel’s brow arched in intrigue, “Hana has been safely ensconced in that deep well for countless years without a single departure. What secret could she possibly be tangled with?”
Caught in the crosshairs, Natasha’s mouth opened, but no words came out. However, her eyes mirrored a vivid bewilderment. Why was Angel so well-versed with Hana’s tale?
“Curious about how I know so much about Hana?” Angel quipped with a sardonic chuckle, “The illusionary realm she inhabited beneath the well was my very creation for her.”
Upon hearing this, Natasha looked up sharply, her eyes wide with realization, “You’re the ‘big brother’ Hana often spoke of?”
Angel scoffed. As Natasha was still reeling in astonishment, the illusionary landscape around her underwent a radical transformation. The vast hall turned confining, the once vivid lights grew dim, and to the tranquil world was added a melodious note.
Before Natasha’s very eyes, the hall transformed into a pastel-colored maiden’s chamber.
The warm pink wallpaper, animated adorable toys, gently swaying wind chimes by the window, rows of redwood toy soldiers drumming on the floor, and a dancing ballerina in a music box…
It was unmistakably the room Hana once resided in.
Every detail was a flawless reproduction of the room.
Through this act, Angel unambiguously signaled that he was the creator of the illusion for Hana.
“Do you know why she was beneath that deep well?” Angel gazed intently at Natasha, his tone shifting from aloof to distant and thin, reminiscent of a cold breeze beneath a vast starry night, silently blowing from an unknown land.
“She was once a joyful girl. Even though she lost the affection of her parents at a tender age, she had a brother who adored her.”
“Yet, the happiness shared by the siblings was shattered by sudden intruders — those damned slavers!”
“Do you know why, despite being extraordinary slavers, they’d kidnap an ordinary human girl?”
Natasha’s throat tightened. She knew the answer. It was an unspeakable cruelty she understood even more profoundly than Angel.
While Angel had posed this question to Natasha, he never intended for her to answer. Instead, he continued, “I’m sure you’re aware of the brutal exsanguination she suffered, how she watched hopelessly as her blood drained, and how her body was carelessly discarded in a graveyard in the end.”
“Many women, subjected to such treatment, would have long become ghosts. Yet she, with a heart so pure, harbors neither resentment nor malice; she merely dwells in solitude within that well, gazing towards a future devoid of dawn.”
“You claim this person, whom you’ve brutally ravaged and cast aside, has ties to the dark secrets of your castle. Do you really expect me to believe that?”
Angel’s voice, which had once been ethereal and distant, slowly returned to the realm of the living.
Those piercing eyes seemed to effortlessly penetrate Natasha’s very soul, laying bare every shade of darkness and light, every nuance of good and evil that resided within.
Every question posed by Angel seemed to strike at the very core of Natasha’s spirit. She felt as though she stood on the gallows, exposed for all to judge. The unease stemmed not only from Angel’s inquiries but also from the intense flames of introspection that raged within her.
Suddenly, a diary on the table levitated into the air.
The pages of the diary flipped rapidly. Within its leaves were various illustrations… Natasha couldn’t discern the details clearly, but as the diary turned to its final page, she recognized the scene——
A woman with long golden locks, holding Hana’s hand, vanished into the depths of the well.
Upon seeing this, Natasha felt a thunderous echo in her mind, her vision momentarily clouded.
She felt transported back to that very moment when she had taken Hana away.
On that fateful day, she was on a patrol mission. Yet as she approached the vicinity of Black Castle, she heard a gentle woman’s voice whispering in her ear.
It was a message from Lady Isabelle.
She was to retrieve a soul from a specific location.
That place was the deep well within the cemetery.
Natasha vividly remembered when she reached the abyss of the deep well; a little girl in a canary-yellow dress was already standing by the entrance of the illusionary realm. Without Natasha uttering a word, she seemed to perceive her intentions, asking, “Could you wait for me a moment? I have some matters to attend to; it won’t take long.”
Natasha consented.
Later on, Natasha and Hana became closely knit. She once inquired, “When I took you away, you mentioned some matters. What were they?”
Hana, wearing a downcast expression, murmured, “I didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye.”
Hana’s response left Natasha puzzled. The illusionary realm was devoid of any other presence; why then would Hana mention parting without a farewell?
However, upon glimpsing the diary and listening to Angel’s narration, comprehension dawned on her——
Hana’s reluctance to leave without bidding farewell was rooted in not wanting Angel to perceive it that way. The “big brother” Hana perpetually awaited was none other than Angel, wasn’t it?
After a protracted silence, following an internal struggle, Natasha eventually met Angel’s gaze. “Yes, it was I who took Hana away,” she finally confessed.
Regarding Hana, even though Isabelle had never obliged her to secrecy, Natasha believed this matter pertained to Lady Isabelle and thus, always kept it under wraps, never sharing with outsiders.
But was Angel truly an outsider? In their eyes, perhaps. However, for Hana, Angel was the solitary ray of light piercing her otherwise bleak existence, the very person she awaited at the base of that barren well.
Torn between emotions, with Hana’s visage etched in her mind, Natasha pondered upon Angel’s probing questions that relentlessly stirred her innermost vulnerabilities.
Her defenses crumbled from within.
“Hana was entrusted to me by Lady Isabelle, asking me to take her away. I’m not sure why Hana was taken from the well, but I can sense that Lady Isabelle bears no ill intentions towards her.”
Angel inquired, “Where is she now? Can you take me to her?”
“Ever since Hana arrived at Black Castle, she mostly stays by Lady Isabelle’s side.” Natasha replied, “If you wish to see Hana, you’ll have to approach Lady Isabelle.”
Angel posed several more questions. Natasha disclosed what she could, but when the topics involved Isabelle, her answers became evasive.
Concluding that the only way to discern Hana’s whereabouts was through Isabelle, Angel ceased his line of questioning.
Meeting Isabelle might prove challenging, but at least he now had a clear lead.
“Occasionally, Hana comes to chat with me. If she seeks me out, I’ll convey your message to her,” Natasha added.
Angel nodded appreciatively, “Thank you for that.”
Lowering her head, Natasha whispered to herself, barely audible, “It is I who should be thanking you.”
As Natasha prepared to take her leave, something struck Angel. He once again brought out Hana’s diary, flipping to a particular page.
Depicted was a faceless silhouette within the depths of a well.
“Do you know who this is?” Angel pointed to the shadowy figure.
A momentary heaviness flashed in Natasha’s eyes, her mouth agape, but no words escaped.
Angel furrowed his brow, musing, “Could it be another clandestine affair?”
The weight of Natasha’s silence compelled Angel to massage his temples, “I’ll pose one final inquiry. All you have to do is nod or shake your head.”
“Was Sparrow Blossom’s departure from the deep well triggered by that silhouette?”
After a moment of hesitation, Natasha finally gave a slight nod.
“As I suspected…” Angel sighed. He initially wanted to probe if the shadow had any connection with the calamities of Black Castle. But reflecting upon Sanders’ previous reticence on the topic, hinting at his reluctance to wade into murky waters surrounding Black Castle, Angel decided not to pursue the line of questioning.
Following Natasha’s departure, Angel found himself deep in thought. Although he now knew Sparrow Blossom’s whereabouts, the dilemma was how to meet Isabelle.
At that moment, Sanders, who had remained silent on another sofa, said serenely, “Do not fret over this matter. In time, if you don’t seek her out, she will come looking for you.”
Due to certain constraints in his abilities, Angel was oblivious to the fact that not long ago, a massive surge of mental power had discreetly swept through their room.
Sanders had briefly clashed with this mysterious force.
While there was minimal information exchange, he was relatively certain that the mental fluctuation originated from Isabelle.
It was this silent confrontation that bolstered Sanders’ conviction that Isabelle would eventually seek them out… Even if she didn’t, he would take the initiative and approach her without hesitation.
Sanders’ visit to Black Castle, although primarily for Gloria, did not impede him from calling on the brilliant witch from a millennium ago.
While Angel was puzzled about Sanders’ confidence, he trusted that if Sanders had spoken out, it would be accurate.
With this realization, Angel felt a modicum of relief wash over him.