Chapter 2640 Sparks of a Fire <TOC> Chapter 2642 Blue Fatty
Translator: SumTLMan
With Cecia’s appearance, the surrounding dark mist also seemed to quickly recede. However, the fog only shrank back about twenty meters around Cecia; in the distance beyond that, it was still black.
Yet the space now cleared caused Angel to raise his eyebrows slightly in surprise.
He had originally assumed that this pitch-black fog concealed a barren land. Unexpectedly, the construction here was rather exquisite.
The floor was made of smooth marble tiles in a checkered pattern, and several elegant stone columns with seemingly simple but subtly carved dark designs stood around. Above their heads was a palace-worthy series of decorative carvings and stained-glass windows.
Although the very center of the spire was shrouded by the fog, Angel could already guess what this place looked like.
“I previously thought that this space was a type of void-like alternate dimension. But I didn’t expect that I could summon this Source Fire. A mere consciousness space couldn’t do that, so this place must be a real, physical location,” Angel said as he surveyed his surroundings: “It’s as refined as a palace, but beneath that refinement lies something else entirely. That alchemy aura can’t be concealed.”
At this point, Angel looked toward Cecia: “Am I inside your domain right now?”
Cecia answered: “Rather than calling it a ‘domain,’ I’d prefer to hear its full name——Box of Cecia.”
“Previously, Vai also entered your… hmm, Box of Cecia. In his perception, a long time passed, yet we outside never saw him leave, and very soon he reacted again as if only a moment had gone by. Why is that? Is it the ability of the Box of Cecia? Is it time-related?” Angel asked curiously.
If it really were time-related, it would be an unexpected delight. Angel had always wanted to study alchemy items connected to time, but to this day he had never encountered one.
He had seen in Culuoli’s illustrated diary a mention of a Mysterious Object involving time: the Time Postcard. Its effect was to send the postcard to a certain person at a certain moment in the future, and one could attach an ability to the card, allowing the recipient to use it temporarily.
Unfortunately, that Mysterious Object already had an owner and was kept at the Orderly Guild. Even though its Hoopa Coefficient was said to be low, the Orderly Guild basically never used time-based Mysterious Objects, let alone lend them out for study.
Seeing Angel’s eyes brimming with curiosity, Cecia let out a light snort instead of answering right away. She gracefully passed by Angel, then erected, a few meters ahead, a tall throne made of dense Mist Glass and Black Ice Crystal.
Cecia ascended the five steps and gave her silk dress a gentle flick before sitting down on the throne with an imposing air.
Not until she was seated, gazing down at Angel from on high, did she speak slowly: “Time-based abilities? It seems your knowledge of prophecy is sorely lacking. Asking such a question only proves your ignorance.”
So it wasn’t a time-based ability but something from the prophecy category? Angel didn’t know exactly which prophecy-related ability it might be, but he doubted Cecia would lie about that.
Since it wasn’t time-based, Angel’s curiosity mostly subsided.
“I admit my ignorance,” Angel lifted his head to look at Cecia seated on high and smiled faintly: “After all, I’m not even twenty years old yet.”
Cecia had intended to suppress Angel’s momentum with the throne and her lofty vantage. But Angel seemed completely unfazed, while once again bringing up “I’m under twenty,” instantly breaking the defenses of Cecia, who had long lost track of how long she’d been alive.
At twenty, Cecia had still been a mere “child” protected by her parents in an ivory tower.
Yet standing before her now was Angel, not even twenty, cunning like a fox, showing no fear in conversation, holding in his hands the Source Fire that was vital to the entire Laudsourcian race.
By comparison, Cecia felt that she might not have lived her first half of life as impressively as Angel had managed in less than twenty years.
Realizing this, Cecia felt that in ridiculing him as ignorant, she had merely ridiculed herself, shattering her composure with a critical strike.
She took a deep breath, trying not to let her emotions get too agitated, at least not to the point where a “kid” under twenty would look down on her.
Keeping her face cold and beautiful, she stayed silent for a few seconds. Only then did Cecia finally feel calm enough.
She spoke at last: “Time hasn’t changed. I only drew out a portion of your sense of thought. Time doesn’t change; you haven’t changed. What changes is only the way your mind perceives.”
Cecia didn’t much care whether Angel understood. She offered a simple explanation, then turned at once to the topic of greatest concern: the Source Fire.
“Since you’ve presented a Source Fire and know about the ancestral altar, I imagine you came prepared.” Cecia lifted her chin: “Speak. What do you want? Or what do you wish to know?”
Her tone was quite firm, assuming Angel had come specifically for her.
Otherwise, why would he have asked if she was a Laudsourcian, or taken the initiative to mention the extinguished ancestral altar, and finally shown the Source Fire?
Even though she was quite certain Angel’s goal was herself and that he might make exorbitant demands, Cecia had to steel herself. For that “Source Fire” wasn’t fake but truly existed. To Laudsourcians, a Source Fire signified hope.
Still, Cecia refused to be a sucker. Hence this display of “dispersing the fog, revealing the throne, surveying all life from high above.”
It wasn’t some monkey act but a meaningful “ritual.” Yet since Angel hadn’t named a “price,” Cecia had not guided the ritual to its conclusion.
Only after Angel spoke his price could Cecia let the ritual’s meaning truly manifest:
The throne of a god, overlooking all beings. All hidden currents would be channeled to the truth, every shadow revealed in its real form. A fool would receive a blessing, while greed would only produce worthless schemes,
…
Angel looked at Cecia, whose chin was practically tilted to the sky, and his expression became slightly odd.
It looked like she’d misunderstood his intentions?
He hadn’t come to sell a Source Fire. ——Though, as his purple and white Source Fires were somewhat damaged and not quite whole, Angel was indeed interested in selling them at some point. But as a precaution, if he really did decide to sell, it would only happen after Totoro lit the ancestral altar.
Yet now, Cecia seemed to believe he’d brought the Source Fire here to make a deal with her?
Prepared? Prepared to bring the Source Fire across who knows how many kilometers just to negotiate with you?
“Aren’t you a bit too self-assured?” Angel tilted his head and looked at Cecia with a puzzled expression.
Her face darkened: “What do you mean by that?”
Angel stroked his chin: “You just called me ignorant. I admitted as much. But have you forgotten?”
“How would an ignorant person like me know that, in what’s called a worthless ruin, there was once an alchemy puppet used as a ‘ticket booth’? And that in the seemingly plain box held by that puppet, a box which had never shown any sign of life, there was a ticket seller inside? A ticket seller who also happened to be a Laudsourcian?”
“Oh, right, I should add a more complete preface. This Laudsourcian was someone who spent over ten thousand years inside a tiny box in a hidden realm without ever showing her face.”
“In that scenario, how could I possibly know you existed? You think I’ve also lived ten thousand years, that I saw you in Nightfall City back then?”
Angel’s string of questions left Cecia somewhat flustered.
Yes… that did seem to be the case?
He was making a bit of sense?
Seeing Cecia silent, Angel went on: “Let me ask you, can prophecy spells foresee you?”
Cecia subconsciously shook her head: “Of course not. Laudsourcians themselves are concealed from Destiny, and besides, I no longer have a soul.”
“If prophecy can’t foresee you, that means I didn’t locate you with prophecy.”
“Next question: Has anyone else come in or out of your box? I mean, someone intelligent enough to meet you, learn you’re a Laudsourcian, and then spread that news? Preferably within the last few decades, since beyond that time, I wouldn’t have been born.”
“I do have some dealings with a certain sovereign of this place. Occasionally it comes to chat with me about the outside world. However, for certain special reasons, it can’t possibly broadcast my information to anyone else,” Cecia answered somewhat vaguely. She understood Angel’s point, but if he truly hadn’t come prepared, how could he appear in front of her in such an incredibly “coincidental” manner?
She, a Laudsourcian, had stayed hidden in a tiny, pitch-black box for over ten thousand years, only to run into a heaven-sent Source Fire?
If the Great Prophet were still around, hearing this story might have prompted him to give her a thorough scolding.
She had her doubts, but Angel’s rationale was not implausible.
Hence her expression turned conflicted.
Cecia hesitated for quite a while before finally asking: “Then… why did you bring out the Source Fire?”
Angel lightly raised the white Source Fire in the palm of his hand, then pinched it gently, letting it disappear back into his earlobe.
Only after doing all of this did Angel spread his hands: “No special reason. Just to show you.”
“To… show me?!” Cecia shot to her feet, bending forward to glare with eyes wide: “Are you toying with me?”
Noticing the murderous intent rekindling in the air, Angel’s expression grew quite complicated.
How did he end up encountering this woman?
Rubbing his temples, Angel had thought someone who’d lived for over ten thousand years would easily glean his meaning. But now he realized her reasoning might have slipped after losing her body and soul.
Yet Popoca’s situation had been somewhat similar, and Popoca wasn’t stupid now. (Excluding the period he turned into a monster in La Sutherland.)
Sensing the intensifying killing intent, Angel sighed helplessly: “Think carefully. If I handed the Source Fire to you, what would you do with it?”
Cecia retorted: “I! I…”
She’d wanted to respond forcefully, but only got the first sound out before trailing off. Indeed, she now lacked a body, lacked a soul; even if she called herself a Laudsourcian, in essence she no longer had anything to do with the Laudsourcians. Even if the Source Fire belonged to her, how could she possibly use it?
“Could you sense the ancestral altar?” Angel asked again.
Cecia maintained her silence, but the answer was obvious.
“No, right? Then what would you do with this Source Fire? Use it like a flickering candle flame, just to light up this flashy but unsubstantial palace?”
“But you also can’t use the Source Fire,” Cecia protested weakly, her voice growing fainter.
Angel: “Have you forgotten the question you asked me before? You asked me how I knew about the ancestral altar, and my answer was, some Laudsourcian personally told me.”
Once again, Angel emphasized “personally.”
Cecia went momentarily dazed, and she slowly sank back onto the throne, having entirely lost her imposing manner.
She now understood Angel’s point: the Source Fire would do her no good. Since she couldn’t even sense the ancestral altar, how could she resurrect the Laudsourcians’ cause?
But if it was turned over to an outside Laudsourcian still alive, a small spark might well become a blazing fire.
Thinking of this, she whispered softly: “You mean to say, you intend to give the Source Fire to other Laudsourcians.”
Angel nodded, saying nothing further.
Although Angel gave exactly the answer Cecia wanted, one doubt still remained: “Is it really true that there are still Laudsourcians alive out there?”
She had been informed by that entity that the last Laudsourcian had perished.
Bound by the oath, it wouldn’t lie to her.
Was the Laudsourcian Angel spoke of genuine?
Angel didn’t answer her question directly, but said: “Do you want to meet him?”
Cecia’s eyes lit up: “The Laudsourcian you speak of came with you?”
Angel: “No. I said already that I didn’t come here prepared, and you aren’t my objective.”
After pausing, Angel added: “However, though he didn’t come here with me, I might be able to arrange for you two to meet and speak face-to-face.”
“I see…” Cecia looked somewhat disappointed. It would have been ideal if she could truly see him in person.
“Are you certain he’s a Laudsourcian?”
Angel: “You can confirm that for yourself once you meet him.”
Cecia considered for a moment and then nodded: “All right, I’m willing to see him. When can this happen?”
Angel: “Anytime. But before that, I need some time to make preparations.”
Cecia nodded and didn’t inquire what those preparations involved, likely some means of communication over a distance.
After another moment of hesitation, Cecia asked: “Then what price must I pay?”
…
When Cecia spoke that sentence, Angel’s face remained calm, but inwardly he let out a sigh of relief.
All he had done——first praising, then belittling, showing the Source Fire, was for that very line.
Thankfully, though Cecia’s thought processes ran in circles, she at least understood the rule of “you get what you give.” Otherwise Angel would have had to demand payment outright, which would have been an awkward situation.
Angel raised his gaze, then lowered it: “I hope you can answer some questions for me.”
Hearing Angel’s request, Cecia actually relaxed a little. It was more concerning if he demanded nothing at all.
With that, Cecia returned to her aloof “goddess” attitude, lazily leaning against the throne: “You want to know the secrets of Nightfall City?”
Angel: “If you want to tell me about it, I wouldn’t mind asking. But what I really want to know is something else.”
Cecia: “Ask, then. But I will tell you now, there are some things I can’t go into in detail, or can’t speak of at all, because I signed an oath with a certain sovereign. It can help me by bringing news from the outside world, and in return I must abide by some rules. If your question happens to fall within those rules, I can’t tell you directly.”
At this last remark, Cecia raised her eyebrows in a suggestive way.
“Can’t say it directly” might imply some hinting?
Angel couldn’t be sure he was interpreting it correctly, nor did he much care about those matters which shouldn’t concern him. What he really cared about was Cecia’s attitude. Judging by her demeanor toward him now, it seemed she wouldn’t backslide.
“I want to ask the first question: the so-called sovereign you speak of, is it a Three-Eyed Blue Demon?”