Chapter 2652 Cecia and the Gargoyles <TOC> Chapter 2654 Emerging from the Box
Translator: SumTLMan
The moment she heard that familiar voice, Cecia swiftly turned her head. There, she saw Angel descending from the second floor at a relaxed pace.
At the sight of Angel’s nonchalant, almost lazy posture, Cecia felt an itch of anger. He just left behind the phrase “in a dream” and disappeared, tricking her into running in circles!
She had even assumed, earlier, that she might glimpse a ray of hopeful light in him.
A liar!
She couldn’t hold back her anger anymore!
Seething with rage, Cecia sprang forward in a single bound, darted straight at Angel before he could react, grabbed him by the bowtie, and in one swift, agile twist of her back, prepared to stomp on Angel’s face with her high heel and pin him to the ground.
She managed to do it, but the one stomped to the ground in the end was Lulu, whose face had now taken on a look of sorrowful whimpering.
Angel, on the other hand, had somehow lifted the curtain and was already seated beside the self-proclaimed Jon.
Cecia had no idea how he changed places. This body of hers… was simply too frail.
“Gili gulu, gulu lu.” Lulu’s unhappy whimper still floated under her heel.
With exasperation, Cecia released her foot and strode forward into the small meeting hall hidden by the draped curtain. She shot Angel a venomous glare, then deliberately chose the farthest seat from him on the opposite side of the long table.
“Don’t think that just because this is a dreamscape of your creation, you can do whatever you want. I understand the laws of the Dream Realm as well as you do. You can’t kill me here, and escaping this place is child’s play for me,” Cecia declared haughtily, lifting her head, clearly intending to seize the advantage by words first.
Angel, however, took his time pouring tea for the elderly Jon beside him. Only then did he look over at Cecia: “It feels like in the few minutes since we parted ways, you’ve built up a whole internal story in your head and concluded that I’ve gotten on your bad side again?”
Out in the main hall, Cecia’s attitude toward Angel had obviously improved, but now, for reasons he couldn’t fathom, her hostility was back in full force. Angel could only guess that Cecia had dreamed up some nonexistent plots in her head.
“In the terms mentor Jon taught me, this is… paranoia,” Angel said after a slight pause. Then he pointed at Jon beside him: “This is my mentor Jon. He’s my teacher, and he’s a scholar keenly interested in the extraordinary world. That’s why, when he saw the gargoyle here, he grew curious and wanted to study it.”
Angel did not mention that Jon was actually his enlightenment mentor. After all, he had previously told Cecia that his mentor was an otherworldly visitor; if he revealed Jon’s identity now, it would expose many secrets, requiring a host of extra explanations.
As it happened, Angel had not expected Jon to return to Pat Manor today. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have chosen this place for Popoca to meet Cecia.
“You see,” Angel went on: “my mentor isn’t trying to hurt this gargoyle… oh, by the way, do you know these two gargoyles?”
When Angel finished, Cecia glanced briefly at Jon. Though she had lost the abilities of a prophecy witch, she could still sense a person’s good or ill will. This old man named Jon might have performed experiments not so different from those so-called researchers she’d seen, but as Angel said, he harbored no malevolence. He was nothing like those false-hearted experimenters.
Jon, she could set aside for the moment. But Angel, she had no intention whatsoever of letting him off.
Although she had never heard the word “paranoia” before, its meaning was plain enough from the surface of the term.
“You say I’m paranoid? No, I’m just doing a rational assessment and seeking the flaws in this illusory dreamworld you devised,” Cecia replied icily.
Angel saw how stubborn she looked, and he felt a throb begin in his temple again.
When dealing with newcomers to the Wilderness of Dreams, what he loathed most was explaining how it all worked. It was a headache, and once people learned, they inevitably bombarded him with endless curiosity.
For most others, he would simply toss them into Initial Heart City or New City to find out for themselves. Let them learn, let them integrate. Seeing with their own eyes was better than hearing a lecture.
But that wouldn’t work with Cecia. She was obviously brimming with “everything is your conspiracy” vibes. If he didn’t clarify matters for her, she was bound to keep her conspiracy theories going.
Yet explaining all this was something Angel had no intention of doing personally.
“If you want to know what this place is, or if you want to learn more about it, go find Popoca. He’ll explain everything,” Angel said in a deliberately solemn manner, adopting an air of “it is destiny.” Truth be told, he merely wished to dodge the responsibility and leave it to Popoca.
Moreover, Popoca was also a Laudsourcian. It would be far more convenient for them to communicate than for him to do it.
Cecia snorted: “Popoca? You still think you can trick me? I’m sure he’s just some fabricated Laudsourcian of yours in this dream, too.”
Angel rubbed his aching temple: “You can judge for yourself when you see him. If you can’t even tell whether your own kind is real or not, there’s no point in talking about restoring the Laudsourcian race.”
Angel’s words were firm enough that Cecia heard him out.
He had a point, if the so-called Popoca was Angel’s creation, it was sure to have its flaws. There would be no harm in seeing for herself.
Still, there was one question Cecia wanted answered first: “I’ll go meet this invention of yours. But first, you need to explain: how do you know about Keke and Lulu? Why can you replicate their behavioral patterns?”
“Keke and Lulu?” Angel frowned for a moment, then realized who she meant: “You mean these two gargoyles?”
Cecia said: “Yes.”
Angel asked: “You know them quite well?”
Cecia scoffed: “You conjured them; is there any point in asking if I know them or not?”
Hearing this, Angel smiled: “Ah, so you really do know them. Wonderful. In that case, you can probably understand what they’re saying. You can ask them yourself if they were something I created from scratch.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Exactly what I said. These two gargoyles you call Keke and Lulu were ones we saw at the second narrow pass on our way up the Hanging Prison Stairs. The Black Count said they’d gone into a deathlike sleep and would never awaken. So I brought their consciousness into this place, at least giving them a pleasant land where they can live in peace.”
Angel’s words sounded kind. In truth, back then he hadn’t thought so deeply about it; he merely wanted to see if these slumbering gargoyles could be pulled into the Wilderness of Dreams to fill another gap in his —Wilderness of Dreams Bestiary—.
He hadn’t expected it to work. Nor had he anticipated these two gargoyles to be acquainted with Cecia, and clearly on friendly terms.
That was perfect.
Popoca alone might not be able to convince Cecia, who believed she was trapped in Angel’s “grand conspiracy.” But the two gargoyles who were apparently close to her might persuade her that they really were genuine beings.
Of course, if Cecia still couldn’t figure out whether Keke and Lulu were real or illusions, Angel would simply accept the Preconceived Notion that everything here was a conspiracy and that any sort of cooperation was pointless. She could stay in the dark little box, waiting for a “withered tree to bloom again.”
Cecia eyed Angel warily, then turned and looked at the two gargoyles.
“You’re saying these two were brought here by you from the dream?”
Angel nodded: “Of course. Until that moment, I had no idea what their names were. How would I know their connection to you if no one else had told me?”
“Your creations can say whatever you want them to say.”
Stifling his exasperation, Angel said: “Weren’t you listening just now? Let me repeat. Until a moment ago, I’d never even met them. So where could I have learned about their relationship with you, who would have told me?”
“If you can’t tell whether even they are real or fake, I don’t think there’s any need for you to meet Popoca.”
Before, Angel had assumed Cecia was simply caught up in conspiracy theories. Now he suspected her reasoning might have short-circuited.
All he could do was sigh and try to be understanding.
She had survived for tens of thousands of years, retaining normal thought processes was already impressive. Her intellect might be missing occasionally, but at least it wasn’t gone entirely.
Might as well just wait and see.
After hearing Angel’s explanation, Cecia also realized she might have been forcing herself to see illusions where they might not exist. If this place wasn’t illusory and Keke and Lulu were real, then their familiar mannerisms would certainly make sense.
But she was still confused. After all, this world seemed to have appeared through a Dream Bridge. How could it possibly be real?
Furthermore, Cecia was very familiar with the laws of the Dream Realm. Aside from the dreamer themselves, only those specifically allowed by the dream wizard could enter a dream, and they usually couldn’t exist in the same dream at once. The Dream Realm was vast beyond imagination. She had never heard of anyone who could pinpoint multiple people and bring them together in the same dream.
The more she thought about it, the more confused she became.
Still, she decided to do as Angel suggested and took Keke and Lulu outside to observe them carefully and ask them questions.
…
Once Cecia left, Angel exhaled in relief, rubbing his temple again: “She’s unbelievably hard to handle.”
Jon chuckled softly: “I actually think her caution is a good thing. It would be sadder if she believed everything she was told without question.”
Angel sighed: “She… it’s tough to explain to you, Mentor. She’s got this seesawing intellect, one minute it’s keen, the next minute it drops off. You’d think she’d notice the paradox: I can’t possibly know her relationship with those two gargoyles, let alone replicate their habits. Yet she still insists on seeing this as some grand conspiracy.”
Jon smiled at Angel’s frustration and took a sip of tea: “Although I don’t know what happened, from the moment I saw that young lady, I could tell she’s brimming with wariness and suspicion toward everything.”
“That makes me certain you never explained anything to her at all and simply rushed her into the Wilderness of Dreams.”
“Remember, first impressions matter. Everything here is foreign to her. She’s obviously someone who knows about dream power, so her suspecting you of conjuring illusions is only natural.”
Jon’s words made Angel feel as though a bucket of cold water had been poured over his head. Yes! He really had failed to explain anything to Cecia from the start. On top of that, he’d teased her with a mischievous expression and the words “in a dream,” which would inevitably make her feel cheated.
For outsiders, the Wilderness of Dreams could be verified easily in the real world, so if they had doubts, they could confirm by discussing it with others. But that was impossible for Cecia, sealed all alone in a box. If she didn’t believe from the outset, once she got to the Wilderness of Dreams, she’d remain convinced she was being tricked, since it would be difficult for her to find someone else to validate her reality.
So her distrust was quite normal. And in fact, if she’d accepted the Wilderness of Dreams right away, that would have been strange. Her intelligence was not the problem. Angel’s own approach had indeed fallen short.
Fortunately, there was still a remedy. The two gargoyles Angel had brought over on a whim were old acquaintances of Cecia. That could help lessen her doubts.
Otherwise, Angel genuinely wouldn’t know how to pierce through her defensiveness.
…
Jon, for his part, observed Angel’s shifting expression and surmised what might have happened to deepen Cecia’s suspicions of the Wilderness of Dreams. He asked a few more questions, and upon hearing Angel’s “bold moves,” he was momentarily left speechless.
Angel scratched his head in embarrassment. Then, just as in days of old, he bowed it a little, bracing himself for Jon’s “admonishment of love.”
But after a moment of stunned silence, Jon didn’t berate him as he used to. Instead, his smile grew warmer.
“Excellent. You really haven’t changed at all,” Jon said, somewhat emotional.
Angel was puzzled: “Huh? I haven’t changed?”
Jon’s gaze turned nostalgic: “When you were little, you seemed so well-behaved, but the moment you got mischievous, you were bolder, wilder than your brother.”
“Then you suddenly changed, growing mannerly inside and out. It was like you took off your youthful coat and wore grown-up clothes, serious, solemn, a little old man.”
“I worried then that your old self had vanished without a trace. Now, seeing this, I realize that part of you is still there.”
“You’re still that mischievous child, still that young lad from back then.”
“So long as one does not forget one’s initial heart, one won’t lose sight of one’s road ahead.”
Jon’s wistful words stirred Angel’s own memories. Angel’s abrupt transformation into a “model child” had occurred back when Jon’s health deteriorated severely. Though still very young, Angel grasped that Jon’s frail body might not hold out for long.
He also knew Jon wished to cultivate him, to have a living witness to Earth’s civilization in this foreign land, so that a faint mark of his own world might endure. Perhaps that Earth-born culture could someday influence this backward place.
——At the time, Jon had not yet realized that the Old Land Continent was nothing but a small island in a massive world full of other realms. Otherwise, he might never have spoken such ambitious words.
But the young Angel, who was already clever, understood Jon’s vision and resolved not to disappoint him. He curbed his mischief and stepped into the role of an adult overnight, becoming seemingly calm and collected.
Still, could someone truly grow up in a single night?
Lowering his gaze, Angel softly replied: “Teacher Jon remains the same in my eyes, too, completely unchanged.”
Jon smiled: “What do you mean? I’m a child as well?”
Angel said: “Still so fond of lecturing, still forever pondering life’s profoundness. You’re not even that old, yet you preach like a cranky old scholar.”
Jon glowered: “That’s how you respect your mentor?!”
Angel pursed his lips and dared not speak further.
Silence fell suddenly.
Before long, the hush was broken yet again by Jon himself.
His stern expression wavered, and he couldn’t help but snicker.
Angel gave him a puzzled look, unsure what was so amusing this time.
Only after laughing for a while, wiping away tears of joy, did Jon speak: “You said I lecture like an old scholar? Shai once said the same thing. But I was never brave enough to snap back at her.”
“In all my life, I never imagined that one day someone would say those identical words, and I’d have the chance to retort, maybe even scold them in return. It feels rather good.”
“Shame it wasn’t Shai I got to scold,” he added with a warm chuckle.
The Shai he spoke of was Shai Wei, Jon’s wife, who hadn’t journeyed through worlds with him.
Even in this new world, Jon deeply missed and loved his wife. He knew he might never see her again, yet she was the only partner he would ever acknowledge.
Jon was laughing, but Angel knew that he probably wasn’t truly cheerful. Angel understood Jon very well, just as Jon understood him. Jon always put on a brave face, but alone, he probably sighed in endless longing.
Angel said: “If it were Mistress Shai, I doubt you’d have the nerve to talk back.”
Jon insisted: “Don’t underestimate me. I was quite authoritative at home.”
Angel responded: “Right, sure you were. Except you’ve forgotten that time you got drunk, you said your household hierarchy was: Mistress Shai first, your daughter Jo Mu second, the cat Shampoo third, and you fourth.”
Jo Mu was Jon’s daughter with Shai, and Shampoo was their pet cat.
Jon looked stunned: “How do you know about that? When did I say such a thing?”
Angel answered: “When I was four or five. You got drunk with my father and started spilling your grievances.”
Jon muttered: “…You even remember what happened that long ago?”
Angel said: “I didn’t at first. But after becoming a formal wizard, many old memories came back. You used to get drunk fairly often in those days, so you let slip quite a few secrets. I still recall a certain, ”
Jon slapped the table abruptly, cutting Angel off.
When Angel looked his way, Jon cleared his throat: “You really don’t need to recall all that. How about we make a deal, forget those things again?”
Angel replied: “It’s difficult to truly forget something when you’re a wizard, unless…”
Jon asked: “Unless what?”
Angel said: “Unless you use the Mysterious Object called the Voice of Oblivion, which looks like a vanity mirror. Through it, you can completely erase certain memories, ensuring they never resurface.”
Jon inquired: “Then… do you have one?”
Angel shook his head: “Definitely not.”
“Where is it, then?”
Scratching his chin, Angel tried to recall something from the Culuoli Chronicles: “It seems to be in the hands of someone known as the ‘Heartbroken Witch.’ I have no idea who she is, but she’s definitely not in the Southern Region of the Wizarding World.”
Jon had no words for that.
Angel offered: “Don’t worry, I promise never to mention these stories to anyone.”
Jon sighed. He didn’t mind others knowing these things; he just didn’t want Angel to know, since it clashed with his formidable mentor image.
At that moment, Cecia returned from behind the curtain, confusion plain upon her face.
Seeing her, Jon rose to his feet at once: “It looks like you two have plenty to discuss, so I’ll leave you to it. I’ll go rest for a while in the loft.”
Without further ado, Jon left in a hurry.
Right as Jon was about to step through the curtain, Angel’s voice rang out again: “Oh, by the way, I’ll keep quiet, but if my brother eventually becomes a formal wizard and recalls something, if he spills the secret, that’s out of my hands.”
Jon’s footsteps abruptly halted.
Right, he had almost forgotten about Leon!
Jon had practically watched Leon grow up, arriving in this world soon after Leon was born, which meant Leon must know even more secrets. That absolutely wouldn’t do. He needed a plan to keep Leon from mentioning any of it. Ideally, Leon should forget it too!
With a frown, Jon departed, burdened by that fresh concern.
Angel, seeing this, just curved his lips. He had done it on purpose, better Jon worry about these minor embarrassments than slip too often into sorrowful memories of his wife, sinking deeper into regret…
Chapter 2652 Cecia and the Gargoyles <TOC> Chapter 2654 Emerging from the Box