Chapter 2518 Human Roulette <TOC> Chapter 2520 Stairway Test
Translator: SumTLMan
Angel utilized his mental power to sense the general layout of the castle.
After completing his sensing, Angel’s expression became somewhat grave.
“Lord, have you discovered something?” Ms. Melo’s observational skills were meticulous, and she was the first to notice the change in Angel’s expression. Her question was ostensibly an inquiry about his findings, but it was more an expression of concern.
Angel replied: “Nothing much, I’ve found the way to the upper level, follow me.”
Without further ado, Angel turned and led the way.
Due to the recent ordeal with the human roulette, everyone was still somewhat dazed and had become quieter, simply following Angel in silence.
Soon, they reached a corridor.
Occasionally, a servant with their head bowed would pass through the corridor, but overall, the corridor seemed relatively calm to the group.
However, that was merely their assumption.
On either side of the corridor, there were occasional paintings. The content of the paintings was not unsettling; instead, it conveyed a sense of innocence and cheerfulness.
The sight of these paintings seemed to slightly soothe everyone’s spirits, and some even quietly discussed which painting was the most appealing.
Only Sybil noticed that Ms. Melo furrowed her brow slightly when she looked at the paintings.
Sybil had learned etiquette from Ms. Melo and had spent a long time with her. She greatly admired and understood her elegant and composed teacher. Ms. Melo was very particular about etiquette, and frowning, unless it was a deliberate response to undue treatment at some noble banquet, was considered somewhat impolite in public.
It was clear to Sybil that Ms. Melo’s frown was a subconscious gesture. She seemed not to like the paintings, perhaps even… detested them.
Having come to this conclusion, Sybil regarded the paintings in the corridor with increased scrutiny.
As they passed another painting that appeared full of sunlight and dew, Sybil quietly asked: “May I touch this painting?”
Naturally, Sybil was addressing Ms. Melo, but before Ms. Melo could respond, Angel stopped in his tracks first: “Why do you want to touch this painting? Because you like it?”
Sybil opened her mouth but was unsure how to respond. She hadn’t actually noticed anything particular; she simply wanted to explore why Ms. Melo might dislike these paintings and whether there was something odd about them.
Seeing Sybil’s hesitant demeanor, Angel probably understood that Sybil might not yet know the truth and might have sensed something from some details.
Considering this, Angel said softly: “Go ahead and touch it, there are no traps on these paintings.”
Sybil glanced again at Ms. Melo, who avoided her gaze and remained silent.
Pausing for two seconds, driven by curiosity, Sybil still reached out to touch the painting bathed in sunlight and dew.
After touching it, Sybil’s expression turned slightly puzzled.
However, before Sybil could speak, Angel turned around: “After touching, keep moving, don’t delay.”
The group followed, perhaps Sybil’s act of touching the painting drew Angel’s attention, these unremarking talents also became curious about the painting. However, they did not dare to touch it casually, they just gathered around Sybil, hoping to get answers from her.
The plump one was the first to ask, but Sybil completely ignored him. Or rather, along the way, Sybil hardly paid attention to anyone besides the other talents, especially the men.
It wasn’t that she had a fear of men, just that she thought men of this age, twelve or thirteen-year-old boys, were too immature. Especially a certain boy with bandages on his hand, not only immature but also delusional.
Seeing Sybil ignoring him, although the plump one was somewhat annoyed, he dared not make a scene, as they all saw the relationship between Sybil and Ms. Melo.
But they were really curious about what Sybil felt, so, the plump one turned his gaze towards Amesa.
Amesa, unlike the aloof Sybil, could calmly communicate and interact with others, albeit with some distance.
Understanding the plump one’s gaze, Amesa was also curious about the painting, she thought for a moment, then approached Sybil and whispered softly: “It doesn’t concern others, I’m just very curious, what did you find in those paintings?”
Sybil had no particular objections to Amesa, after pondering for a moment she said: “Actually, I found nothing…”
Amesa was stunned for a moment: “Then why did you look puzzled when you touched the painting?”
Sybil did not hide it, straightforwardly saying: “I just felt that the canvas, it doesn’t feel like ordinary canvas, it’s very warm and soft to the touch, feels very good. Since I also paint regularly, I know a bit about canvas types, I’ve never felt this type of delicate canvas before, it’s probably some high-grade canvas that’s beyond my level of access, likely only existing in the Wizarding World.”
After explaining, Sybil looked at Ms. Melo again, hoping to get an answer from her.
However, Ms. Melo seemed not to have heard their conversation, still not speaking.
Ms. Melo’s behavior made Sybil more curious, leveraging her past relationship as Ms. Melo’s student, Sybil approached Ms. Melo and directly inquired about her doubts.
Seeing she couldn’t avoid it, Ms. Melo sighed inwardly and finally spoke, though not directly, instead she went roundabout: “I remember before you left, I accompanied you to see your mother, she was holding your younger brother, wasn’t she?”
Sybil nodded.
“Have you ever held your brother?” Mrs. Melo’s voice was so soft it was almost inaudible.
But Sybil was right next to her and heard what Mrs. Melo said.
Her brother was born at the end of last year and was still at the harmless infant stage, not yet annoying. Naturally, Sybil had held him. However, she didn’t quite understand what Mrs. Melo meant by her sudden remark.
“Remember the feeling of holding your brother, and you’ll understand.”
Sybil whispered to herself: “The feeling of holding my brother?”
Delicate, warm, and soft, slight pressure would leave a red mark on his tender skin, but the touch was absolutely top-notch.
Soft? Warm? Delicate?!
Sybil suddenly looked up at Mrs. Melo with a shocked expression: “Are you talking about the feel of the skin?”
Sybil glanced back at the long corridor they were in, which was lined with paintings, dozens or even hundreds of them: “Are all these?”
Mrs. Melo, now that she had come this far, no longer hid the truth and nodded: “All of them, and moreover, all made from the skin of baby backs.”
Hearing this, not only was Sybil speechless in shock, but the other talents were also left dumbfounded.
Following this logic, the size of the paintings must correlate with the age of the babies?
Thus, the smaller the painting, the younger the baby might have been, possibly newborn or not even a year old?
Considering this, their gazes turned to a nearby painting.
The painting was about the size of two adult female palms put together. It was very small, depicting a seemingly innocent and cute child… but now, no one could see any trace of innocence or cheerfulness in it anymore.
Looking at the painting of the little child smiling happily, Amesa even covered her mouth, feeling the urge to vomit.
The condition of the others was similar to that of Amesa. Even if their bodies were unharmed, the psychological impact was profound, possibly lasting for years or even decades…
Meanwhile, Angel, who was at the forefront, showed no change in his expression, but what he thought internally remained unknown to the others.
Angel: “Is this what you call art?”
The other end of the mental connection: “Ah? What did you see? The Painting Gallery or Specimen Room?”
Angel: “The painting gallery.”
Daus: “Oh, those made from skin? How should I put it? In the realm of the grotesque, perhaps it is art. But in my view, it is barely passable.”
Angel: “So, you think you’re not a pervert?”
Daus: “I haven’t reached that level yet. But honestly, those perverts who play with the human body are actually quite childish. I’ve seen a Karabian wizard’s laboratory, and that was truly an eye-opener, those…”
“I don’t want to hear these irrelevant details.” Angel paused: “Then what was the art you were talking about? Human roulette?”
Daus: “Of course not, haven’t I shown you my imitation works before? That is art!”
“Hanging upside down?” Angel asked puzzled.
Daus replied excitedly: “Your ultimate goal isn’t those two talents, right? If you understand me, you’ll see why I say it’s art! I believe you understand me, after all, we are friends.”
Perhaps feeling that his statement was too presumptive, Daus quickly added: “Of course, not understanding me is also a friend. Between friends, a little mental distance, like lovers, creates more imaginative space.”
Angel: “…” Imaginative space? More like delusional space!
Ignoring Daus, but their conversation somewhat eased Angel’s brooding heart. He was now a bit curious about what Daus’ so-called art would look like.
Under such “art”, could Blazer and Gloshi survive?
…
Walking through the hair-raising human skin gallery, they finally saw the staircase leading upwards.
Every three steps, there was a person standing with various bizarre items, grotesque clothing, or shoes studded with steel nails, or small teddies with knives and bloody grooves…
Undoubtedly, they all served the princess.
When the princess ascended to the second level, she would probably change her attire right on these steps?
Although there were people on the staircase, none were powerful enough to notice Angel and his group advancing.
After reaching the second level, Angel turned right and entered another corridor.
This corridor had no paintings but was occasionally decorated with pots of brilliant flowers on either side. Some of these flowers emitted a poisonous fragrance, while others were carnivorous.
Their purpose was self-evident.
With illusion magic concealing them, the group didn’t realize the flowers’ true nature. However, after Ms. Melo’s explanation, the hearts of the group, just set at ease, were suspended once again.
Indeed, every corner of Princess Castle was intricate.
With this thought, the group reached the end of the flower gallery, where a double door stood. Beside the door, a heart-shaped label kindly indicated its purpose: Specimen Room.
The writing was crooked, as if done by a child.
Upon hearing the term “specimen,” a wave of trepidation washed over everyone. What might the specimens in the castle of Princess Town be? Various human bodies?
While others were still mentally preparing themselves, Angel did not hesitate and pushed open the grand door.
Though called a specimen room, it was actually a corridor of specimens, leading to the staircase up to the third level. The princess’s room was located there, so passing through this corridor was inevitable.
Previously, Angel and Daus had a casual conversation in which the latter explicitly mentioned both the gallery and this corridor of specimens.
In Daus’ view, these two were probably of equal importance.
So, what exactly were these specimens?
As Angel entered and caught the first glimpse, his pupils contracted slightly. Despite having hypothesized, the actual sight was still somewhat emotionally overwhelming.
He saw walls on both sides densely packed with heads.
These were heads of all ages. There were males and females, skins of various colors arranged in some sort of color spectrum order, displaying both a type of obsessive-compulsive disorder and a perverse fixation.
Even Angel almost showed his emotions, so it was much worse for the others.
There were those who gagged, those whose legs went weak, and even those who cried out in fear.
Fortunately, they hadn’t eaten much over the past few days; otherwise, the floor would have been covered in vomit. Nevertheless, some bile was expelled, but under Angel’s control, it was all evaporated by Eremy’s magic fire.
Ms. Melo’s face also turned pale, likely not from a fear of heads, but possibly from a claustrophobic reaction to their dense arrangement.
Seeing his companions paralyzed by fear, Angel sighed and infused some calming magic into the illusions surrounding them to soothe their emotions.
Although calming their emotions was effective, the faces of the crowd remained deathly pale, and they dared not step forward. This was because the heads of these infants had their eyes wide open, walking among them felt as if they were being watched.
“Everyone move, those with weak legs support each other, and you have to look even if you don’t want to,” said Ms. Melo, her voice unusually stern: “Or would you prefer the princess, who has finished dining, to serve you?”
Perhaps it was Ms. Melo’s threat that worked, as the people eventually proceeded.
The specimen room was about as long as the gallery, and along the way, Angel began to understand what was meant by perverted “art.”
It started with infant heads, but as they progressed, the ages increased from children to teenagers, then to young adults, adults, and finally, the elderly.
The expressions on these faces varied, some crying, some laughing, all treated in such a way that they seemed almost alive.
The transition was very natural, and the colors of hair and skin were arranged according to a color spectrum. Ignoring the fact that they were “heads,” the entire corridor was brightly colored and quite… lively.
However, this kind of “art” was probably understood by very few. At least among the talents present, no one seemed to comprehend it.
Perhaps, the talents, Guina and Vonman, whom Angel had brought back before, would understand?
After walking down this brightly lit yet inexplicably oppressive corridor, the staircase to the third level appeared before them.
There were no people on this flight of stairs, but there were traps in place. One had to step on the correct spots to ascend to the third level, otherwise, they would trigger a mechanism and fall into a lower level kitchen designed for cutting and deboning.
The safe spots that did not trigger the trap mechanisms were evident to Angel at a glance.
All the correct positions involved a series of hopping and jumping movements. Sometimes to the left, sometimes to the right, occasionally skipping a step.
From the landing points, it resembled the erratic walking routes of some foolish children.
Chapter 2518 Human Roulette <TOC> Chapter 2520 Stairway Test