Chapter 500 Cherie's Search <TOC> Chapter 502 Returning to the Abyss
Translator: SumTLMan
Angel ran back the way he had originally come, a path he had taken before, knowing that there was little danger, so he moved quickly. In no time, he arrived at the trench that was about 500 meters wide when he first landed.
In his soul state, he could not accurately feel the intensity of the ocean currents; he could only judge through Cherie’s senses if the giant octopus continued to pursue them.
“The water flow is fine, but…” Cherie glanced at Luna, who was shivering in her arms. “Luna’s condition is not right, my guess is it’s still chasing us.”
Upon hearing this, Angel simply continued to run forward. According to the width of the trench’s walls, if they kept narrowing, the giant octopus wouldn’t be able to squeeze through before long.
Illuminated by Cherie’s fire, Angel dashed forward once more.
This sprint lasted for half an hour. As he had thought, the width of the trench’s walls continued to shrink, eventually becoming less than a hundred meters wide. Moreover, the slope began to rise, signaling that they were nearing the end of the trench.
“We should be safe here; it would be challenging for it to squeeze in with its size, and Luna can’t smell its presence anymore.”
Cherie said this, and Angel finally let them go, returning to his physical body.
Cherie silently witnessed Angel’s series of actions. Although she was curious about how Angel could move so fast and why he needed to leave his body, she didn’t ask, as this involved someone else’s secret technique. She just kept her doubts in her heart.
Once Angel returned to his physical body, he felt a wave of dizziness.
Before he could speak, his vision went black, and he fell into a coma.
…
“The Prophet does not Seek the Past, Eternal Altar Cast Forever High. Wielding the Sword of Mer, Open the Bygone Path, Reach the Land of Demise.”
Half-asleep, Angel heard someone whispering in his ear. He opened his eyes groggily, only to find dim yellow light and a red dancing shoe moving back and forth in his blurred vision.
The air was fresh, with a faint fragrance… he had smelled this scent in Sanders’ study before, seemingly a kind of relaxing aroma.
Angel couldn’t help but take a deep breath, and suddenly, he stopped abruptly.
Air? Fragrance? Wasn’t he at the bottom of the ocean? The memories before the coma rushed back into his brain.
Angel’s eyes snapped open, and he sat up.
Looking around, he found himself in a stone house, lying on a bed made of coral… There was no moisture in the surroundings, and the air was rich in oxygen.
On the wall hung the portable oil lamp that Cherie liked to carry in her hand. The relaxing scent came from the lamp.
“Are you awake?” Cherie seemed to have heard Angel’s movements and came over from the adjoining room. “How do you feel?”
Angel turned to look at her. Under the dim light, Cherie’s face was not as cold as usual, but with a hint of warmth.
“Not bad.” Angel rubbed his temples, feeling the blood flow in his body gradually stabilizing, and nodded at Cherie: “Thank you.”
“No need to thank me, you saved me too.” Cherie walked to the wall, took down the oil lamp, and held it in her hand: “When you were unconscious, I checked you briefly. You have been drinking witch soup too frequently, and without integrating any bloodline, this led to excessive blood flow and caused your unconsciousness.”
In the end, Cherie stood in front of Angel, speaking with a slightly complex tone: “Your body is too weak. Even if you don’t want to inject bloodlines, you can strengthen it through other methods, so you won’t be overwhelmed by just drinking witch soup.”
Angel guessed the reason for his unconsciousness and scratched his head awkwardly: “I didn’t have enough time for cultivation, so I couldn’t balance everything.”
Cherie knew that Angel’s time in the wizarding world was short and that his alchemy skills were strong, which meant he spent a lot of time learning. Under these circumstances, with him still managing to maintain his combat power. Reaching this point was already quite impressive.
She now understood that what Angel lacked was not combat power or profound knowledge, but rather basic things like common sense and basic physical training.
“Try to improve your physical strength after leaving the Purification Garden,” Cherie said before turning and leaving the room.
Angel had the opportunity to access bloodlines, and with his wealth, it wouldn’t be difficult to buy them. However, Sanders advised him not to inject bloodlines for the time being, as his bloodlines should mainly come from creatures of the Nightmare Plane, which extinguished Angel’s interest.
Of course, as Cherie said, there were other ways to improve physical strength even without injecting bloodlines. But his personality leaned more towards academia, unlike Nausica, who liked to use muscles to communicate. So, he spent the year immersed in researching spells and improving alchemy techniques, never really training his body.
It seemed that after leaving this time, he really needed to improve his physical strength.
A second-level apprentice, a solid strength among apprentices, ended up overwhelmed by a low-level witch soup, which led to unconsciousness. If this story were to be told, it would probably make everyone laugh.
Angel shook his head and stood up.
He followed Cherie’s footsteps and came to another room. Cherie stood in front of a wall, lost in thought.
Angel walked over and saw a mermaid pattern on the wall Cherie was facing, with a row of text below it. He raised an eyebrow: “Is this the fortress of the frogskin monsters?”
Cherie said lightly: “After you passed out, I carried you forward for a while and found this… at the end of the trench.”
Cherie seemed to be choosing her words carefully, and after a long while, she finally managed to say: “A watchtower? Let’s call it a watchtower.”
An underwater watchtower?
Watchtowers are generally used for guarding. What was the purpose of building a watchtower here? Was it to guard against the sea monster that he had eliminated, or the giant octopus that looked similar to the Ink Touch King?
Angel shook off his chaotic thoughts and asked a more practical question: “How long was I unconscious?”
“Less than ten hours.”
Ten hours didn’t seem too long. However, Angel didn’t know when the Sacrificial Rite of the Purification Sea would begin. Wasting these ten hours meant they had to act quickly to find the exit.
Otherwise, once the sacrifice began, there would be only one path – death.
Feeling the urgency, Angel put aside other thoughts and discussed their current situation with Cherie: “What’s written on the wall? Is it related to the exit?”
Cherie was silent for a moment: “It seems to be related.”
Then she read the not-so-long text in the common language word by word: “The Prophet does not Seek the Past, Eternal Altar Cast Forever High. Wielding the Sword of Mer, Open the Bygone Path, Reach the Land of Demise.”
After reciting the text, Cherie frowned: “If I’m not mistaken, this Land of Demise should be our destination. However, according to this sentence, to reach the Land of Demise, we need to wield the ‘Sword of Mer.’ What is this thing?”
Angel also fell into deep thought, but the meaning of the sentence was quite clear. The keywords were the Sword of Mer and the Land of Demise.
What was the Sword of Mer? Mechanical City should not have an unsolvable problem. The Sword of Mer must be in the Purification Sea. Was it a real sword? Or was it a symbolic item?
Unable to figure it out, Angel suddenly remembered the first underwater structure he had encountered. There were countless more murals and texts than here: “I have some more text here. You try to decipher it and see if there are any clues about the Sword of Mer.”
As Angel spoke, he completely simulated the scene he had seen at that time.
From the mermaid totems, murals, and texts, Angel didn’t miss a single detail, displaying them all in an illusion in front of Cherie.
Cherie had initially been searching her mind for clues about the “Sword of Mer.” When she saw the illusions, her eyes focused on the images and texts, carefully reading them.
Her eyes flickered with magical power from time to time, and after a while, the energy fluctuations around Cherie finally subsided.
She looked a bit tired, but her expression was more relaxed.
“Yes, there is a record of the Sword of Mer here!” Cherie looked at Angel: “The Sword of Mer is not a sword, but the heart scale revered by the Ger Race, the ancestors of the frogskin monsters.”
“Ger Race? Ancestors?” Angel read the confusing name, completely clueless.
“The Ger Race are the frogskin monsters you mentioned. And these,” Cherie pointed to the merpeople in the mural: “These ugly merpeople are their ancestors, and they are also the gods worshiped by the Ger Race.”
“So, you mean the merpeople are the ancestors of the frogskin monsters?”
Cherie nodded.
Angel looked surprised.
He had originally thought that the merpeople were some sort of religious artifact, but it turns out they are passed down through generations. However, at least the ancestors still look somewhat human, though still quite ugly. But the Ger Race is truly hideous. Who did these merpeople mate with to produce the Ger Race? Is their sense of beauty alright? Just thinking about the process in between feels quite heavy.
Cherie then translated the whole passage.
The text on the wall was indeed a supplementary introduction to the murals. The first few murals recorded the daily life of the Ger Race, while the last few were the key points.
“The Land of Demise is the final destination for the Ger Race, where there are many ancestral priests and devotees. They perform sacrifices to the gods here, and to enter, they need the guidance of the Sword of Mer.” Cherie pointed to the last mural, where the sun-filled place was the Land of Demise.
“Gods? Where is that?” Angel originally thought that the merpeople totem was the deity worshiped by the frogskin monsters, but it turns out it wasn’t. Now another god had appeared, what was this new god?
Cherie shook her head: “It’s not recorded here, but look at this painting.”
Cherie pointed to a mural in the middle, which was a cloud of mist enveloping all the Ger Race, and beneath the mist were soft, rolling waves.
“The record of this painting is ominous, but the theme seems to be ‘moving’. I have a guess that the Ger Race may not be native to the Purification Garden, but were brought in by someone. The painting here is a record of the move, and the water surface under the mist is, I think, the Sea of Purification.”
Angel understood Cherie’s meaning: “So according to your speculation, Sky Mechanical City brought this group into the Sea of Purification. And the gods worshiped in the Land of Demise are actually… the people of Sky Mechanical City?”
Cherie nodded: “It should be so.”
Originally, whether the Land of Demise was their destination was uncertain. But if Cherie’s speculation is correct, then the Land of Demise must be their ultimate goal.
Angel didn’t try to guess why Sky Mechanical City did this; the most pressing issue now was to find the Land of Demise.
However, there is another problem. Where can they find the Sword of Mer?
Chapter 500 Cherie's Search <TOC> Chapter 502 Returning to the Abyss