Chapter 2677 Afternoon Countryside <TOC> Chapter 2679 Enlightenment
Translator: SumTLMan
When Angel took out the cylindrical log and the painting turned into flying ash, deep in the underground labyrinth, in a hidden dark space, a pair of emerald-green eyes suddenly opened.
With her awakening, a faint glow immediately rose around her.
The range illuminated by this faint glow was not large, but it was enough to see her outline.
It was a woman lying in a cluster of red flowers, extraordinarily beautiful, with golden hair scattered around her temples. As she sat up, the prismatic earrings hanging by her ears gently swayed.
If Angel and the others saw her at this moment, they would discover that this woman’s appearance was exactly the same as the golden-haired farmwife in —Afternoon Countryside—.
However, in the painting, that woman’s eyes were filled with spring-like warmth, whereas this woman’s gaze was as deep and cold as an endless forest.
After the woman sat up, she fell into contemplation.
Why did she wake up? Ah, right, it seemed that the sentinel at the Hanging Prison Stairs was destroyed?
Who destroyed the sentinel? The Sovereign of Wisdom? No, that can’t be. He still needs me. Moreover, if he wants to repair the magic formation, he must have her help, so there’s no reason for him to destroy that sentinel. Besides, Nightfall hasn’t returned yet, so the Hanging Prison Stairs holds no other value to the Sovereign of Wisdom.
Aside from the Sovereign of Wisdom, is there anyone else?
Those slumbering obsessions? No, that can’t be. None of the sentinels placed there have shown any signs of the obsessed ones awakening. And if they did awaken, Younus would inform her immediately.
It’s neither an obsession nor the Sovereign of Wisdom, so that leaves only two possibilities:
First, some monster from the void. Second, the Wood Spirit.
Could it be the former? Unlikely. Unless a monster accidentally fell into the void, it would not attack living beings on the Hanging Prison Stairs.
As for the Wood Spirit…she had observed that little Wood Spirit a hundred years ago, and it was timid as a mouse, any slight stir in the wind was enough to scare it into feigning death. The sentinel at the Hanging Prison Stairs was made from the derivative of its main body. Given its timorous nature, the moment it sensed its own derivative there, it would understand there had once been danger in that spot, so it would surely never go near it again.
Furthermore, she vaguely sensed an abnormal energy flow in a certain part of the magic formation in the Hanging Prison Stairs. The Wood Spirit was likely there and wouldn’t venture out to the ruins.
It’s neither the monster nor the Wood Spirit. That leaves no more choices.
The golden-haired woman was lost in thought. Suddenly, she raised her head and gazed into the depths of the darkness.
After a few quiet seconds, a man’s voice, bearing that unique clownish tone of a circus performer, rose from the darkness.
“My my, have I been discovered again? Oh, how I envy you. Even though Aedannis sleeps every day, she’s still stronger than poor Ouro who slaves away!”
With that voice, a tall and lean figure faintly emerged within the darkness.
“Because what I’m doing is cultivating,” said the woman called Aedannis blandly: “while you only appear to be working hard. In reality, you’re just loafing around, that’s all.”
“You’re at it again. Every time I say you’re sleeping away your time, you claim it’s cultivation. Do you take me for a fool? I once followed our Master on the battlefield, you know, so I’m all too familiar with what sleep is like!”
Aedannis spoke softly: “Believe whatever you want… And why have you come to me?”
“You lit up this place. It was hard not to notice. By the way, your sleeping period was really short this time. In the past, it was a few months or even years, but this time, you’ve already woken up so many times in just a single day. What happened, did you have a nightmare?”
Aedannis pondered for a moment, then looked toward that barely discernible silhouette in the darkness: “What do you mean, I’ve woken many times? This is the only time I’ve awakened.”
“Only once? I recall it being twice. Did I remember incorrectly?” The exaggerated, clownish tone made it unclear whether he was joking or serious.
Aedannis said calmly: “You remembered wrong.”
“All right then, let’s say I got it wrong.” Though he seemed to concede, there was a hint of mockery in his tone.
Moreover, Aedannis noticed his shift in wording. Initially, he had mumbled: “Did I remember it wrong?” Now he said: “Let’s say I saw it wrong.” One suggests faulty memory; the other suggests faulty vision. The difference was quite clear.
Aedannis lowered her gaze: “You didn’t come just to poke fun at me, did you?”
“Am I poking fun?” His voice, with that peculiar intonation, was obviously sarcastic to anyone but a fool.
“If you won’t state your purpose, I’m going back to sleep.” While speaking, Aedannis gently fiddled with the blood-red blossoms at her feet.
“Don’t be tricked by the Wise One. Don’t overreach yourself.” Though his tone was still a bit over the top, it bore more sincerity than before.
Aedannis snorted softly from her nose and said nothing.
“Also, blocking them is not the answer. They might not be the ones we’ve been waiting for, but ultimately, they are descendants of Noah. If you don’t even give them a chance, what do you suppose our Master would think, were he to return one day?”
Aedannis said: “The master you speak of will never return.”
Ouro replied: “I know you hold a grudge against our Master, and that’s fine. But, Aedannis, you must remember: we were born in darkness, grew in darkness, but that doesn’t mean we belong to the darkness.”
After finishing these words, Ouro’s silhouette gradually sank back into the gloom, leaving only a final remark: “No matter what decisions you make, I won’t interfere. This time is no exception. But you may not be able to stop them from pressing forward, because the Wise One is no fool. While you’re using him, he’s also testing you…”
“…Languishing forever in the darkness is not our destiny. Someday, we will leave this place…”
His voice gradually dissipated, and Ouro’s form vanished completely.
Aedannis stared into that boundless darkness for a long time, then whispered softly: “We’re not the same.”
After uttering those words, Aedannis remained silent for quite a while longer before she returned her thoughts to the destruction of the sentinel at the Hanging Prison Stairs.
Although Ouro’s sudden appearance had interrupted her train of thought, their conversation provided her a new angle.
Because the underground sewers rarely see outsiders, especially anyone able to reach the Hanging Prison Stairs, her initial guess only involved native creatures of the underground. She had overlooked this group of people.
“If they’re indeed the descendants of Noah, that’s possible.” Aedannis frowned, puzzlement lingering in her expression.
She did not doubt their motive for destroying the sentinel. Ignorant people often do ignorant things. In any case, the sentinel can be rebuilt if it’s destroyed.
What truly interested and puzzled her was: “How did they destroy that sentinel?”
The sentinel she had placed at the Hanging Prison Stairs wasn’t high in overall power level, but the technique integrated rune, mirror illusions, and space, which was extremely deceptive.
If someone had merely destroyed the painting, it would have regenerated after a period of time.
Yet now, not only was the painting itself destroyed, the rune, the mirrored component, and the spatial aspect were simultaneously broken.
That was quite astonishing.
Even the Wise One could destroy the sentinel, but he would rely on brute force. Taking out all three barriers at once is no simple task, not even for him.
“Who exactly are these descendants of Noah this time…?”
Aedannis sank into thought for a moment; she still felt uneasy. A nagging sense of apprehension welled up, as if something momentous were on the verge of happening.
“No, I’d better have Younus go and check.” Aedannis whispered softly, then slowly lay back, resting amid the radiant crimson flowers.
As Aedannis’ breathing grew calm and steady, she appeared to enter slumber once more. Yet the diamond-shaped mirror charms on her neck and ears began to flicker without pause.
In the darkness, Ouro stood at a distance, watching the glimmer of Aedannis’ jewelry with a complicated expression.
After a moment of silence, Ouro slowly reached out his hand. In the center of his palm lay a thin, round mirror disc.
Just like Aedannis’ pendant, this disc pulsed with a faint light. Gazing at the reflection that emerged on its surface, Ouro could clearly see Aedannis moving through a pocket of absolute darkness.
“Gone out again, has she?”
Ouro’s fingers twitched slightly, and for a fleeting instant he felt the urge to crush the mirror disc. That void-like dark tunnel was painstakingly carved out by him, so if he destroyed the disc, Aedannis would become wholly lost and unable to find the beginning or the end.
But he did not do it in the end. Instead, he pressed down the brim of his hat and walked away, vanishing into the depths of the blackness.
…
At this moment, inside the Hanging Prison Stairs:
Angel was using the illusions he had left outside to sense the Sovereign of Wisdom’s emotional fluctuations.
He deliberately mentioned that “the film on the painting’s surface was like a layer of mirror” not merely to hint to his companions, but also to test the Sovereign of Wisdom.
However, once the Sovereign of Wisdom realized Angel could sense emotions, his emotional feedback became extremely restrained.
With him actively suppressing any emotional changes, even Angel struggled to pick up on them. It was, after all, only temporary, Angel’s true body was now inside the Hanging Prison Stairs, so he could only observe the Sovereign of Wisdom’s emotions through illusions. If Angel were actually facing the Sovereign of Wisdom in person, the outcome might well be different.
“I’ve never heard of the painter you speak of, nor seen the name you mentioned, but I believe the painter is real, and the painting is real. The other works of that painter you simulated with illusions are real as well… Yet whether your words are true, that I can’t be sure.” The Sovereign of Wisdom said he “couldn’t be sure,” but his tone sounded very certain that he did not believe in such a coincidence.
“Can’t be sure? Well, let’s keep watching,” Angel said with a slight smile: “Who knows, maybe there really is such a coincidence in this world?”
Daus also backed him up: “Exactly. The world is full of coincidences. Maybe our coming here was also a coincidence, or perhaps it was all fate. If it truly is destiny guiding us, then any so-called ‘coincidence’ might be fate’s gift.”
Then, half-jokingly, Daus added: “Maybe even that Wood Spirit knows Angel. It might just show up on its own.”
Daus genuinely wanted to support Angel. Deep down, he too found all these coincidences hard to believe, but since they were all in this together, and bound by contract, supporting his teammate meant safeguarding their shared interests.
The Sovereign of Wisdom looked at Daus, then turned back to Angel: “Very well, then. I’ll keep watching to see if one ‘coincidence’ after another comes hopping out.”
With that, he stood aside and fell silent.
As the Sovereign of Wisdom quieted, Daus naturally turned the conversation inward, leaning toward Angel and asking: “So who do you think that golden-haired woman is?”
He wanted to inquire if she might be that female figure within the Demon God of Mirrors, but with the Sovereign of Wisdom nearby, he spoke in vague hints.
Angel replied: “I don’t know. Perhaps she’s the one who hung the painting here?”
Angel paused and cast a glance at the Sovereign of Wisdom, hoping he’d respond, but the Sovereign of Wisdom this time offered no reply.
Getting no response, Angel shrugged and gave Daus a knowing look that said: “See for yourself.”
He truly didn’t know if she was the woman from the Demon God of Mirrors, but every anomaly in that painting came from the mirror-like film on its outermost layer. Moreover, the golden-haired woman’s profile rather resembled the female figure on the Demon God of Mirror’s true mark. In Angel’s personal view, even if she is not the Demon God of Mirror, she should be related in some way.
However, there’s no need to dwell on the Demon God of Mirror matter at the moment. If the Demon God of Mirror has some connection to Augustine, they will eventually cross paths. If not, Angel doesn’t wish to complicate things. In any case, Cecia has already entered the Wilderness of Dreams, so there will be opportunities to uncover the underground’s mysteries.
Right now, Angel has something else to do.
Angel lowered his gaze, fixing his eyes on the blackish-brown cylindrical log lying on the ground.
It was the Wood Spirit’s derivative, so perhaps he could…do this.
While Angel’s mind was flickering with possibilities, the Sovereign of Wisdom spoke from behind him: “If you take it, your chances of meeting the Wood Spirit will decrease.”
“Why?” asked Daus, not Angel.
Daus was puzzled: “If it’s part of the Wood Spirit’s main body, shouldn’t carrying it cause the Wood Spirit to show itself?”
The Sovereign of Wisdom said: “The Wood Spirit’s sensory ability to detect auras is hardly weak. It’s already difficult for you to find it in the first place. Now, if you carry its derivative around, you’re basically announcing your location. With that personality of its, it’ll certainly avoid you rather than reveal itself.”
“Besides, that split has been here for so many years, and the Wood Spirit has never come to retrieve it. Why would taking it now make it suddenly appear? Whether out of fear or indifference, it has obviously chosen not to care.”
Hearing this, Daus rubbed his chin, looking as if he’d just realized something.
That makes sense, if the Wood Spirit truly wanted its split back, it would have come long ago. The fact it never retrieved it suggests it doesn’t really care. Or perhaps its timidity outweighs any concern, so it simply avoids dealing with it altogether.
Such a strange Wood Spirit defies imagination…
“Are you still going to take it?” Daus turned to Angel and saw that Angel was still holding the cylindrical log, appearing to measure something with it.
Angel did not look up: “Why not?”
Daus frowned: “Aren’t you worried you won’t be able to find the Wood Spirit?”
Angel paused his measuring and lifted his gaze: “Didn’t you just say maybe the Wood Spirit already knows me and might come right out to greet me?”
“Besides, if I don’t take it, does that guarantee I’ll find the Wood Spirit?”
“Since nothing is certain, I may as well carry it. Worst case, it’s still an extraordinary material.” Angel smiled. Then, holding the log, he let out a brief laugh and continued his preparations, making it clear he had no intention of putting it down.
Chapter 2677 Afternoon Countryside <TOC> Chapter 2679 Enlightenment