Translator: SumTLMan
Flying above the spotted dog, Angel looked intently.
Just as he had seen before, the dog was lying with its head in the muddy flesh, occasionally moving its head as if it was chewing on food.
But when Angel looked closely, he noticed that although the dog’s head was moving, the bloody flesh on the ground had not diminished at all.
“It’s not actually eating?” Angel raised an eyebrow. If it wasn’t eating, why was it burying its head in the bloody mess? Surely it didn’t have some strange preference?
Angel thought for a moment and decided to get a little closer.
As Angel approached, the spotted dog raised its dull head, revealing its bloody face.
With the dog raising its head, Angel finally saw why Toby had been signaling him to look over there—
Because a bizarre aura was emanating from the rotten flesh on the ground, pouring into the dog’s mouth.
Hookedick’s corpse, due to the explosion, had scattered flesh and blood everywhere. This spotted dog was absorbing the bizarre aura from Hookedick’s remains non-stop.
The dog looked horrifying at this point, reminiscent of a monster that sucks the life force from humans.
However, upon closer inspection, Angel realized that the bizarre aura being absorbed by the dog carried a vibration that he found quite familiar.
“This is…” Angel furrowed his brow, trying to recall the source of this vibration.
Suddenly, Toby flew over, with a gray aura swirling around it. It chirped softly beside Angel.
After hearing Toby’s words, Angel paused for a moment. His gaze slowly moved to the Gravity Lines surrounding Toby, and then to the bizarre aura absorbed by the dog’s mouth. He finally realized: “This is some kind of Law Line?!”
“This dog is absorbing Law Lines?”
According to Angel’s judgment, the “Law Lines” sprouting from Hookedick’s flesh were very weak, exuding a soulful aura. He guessed that Hookedick had gained some insight into the Soul Laws somewhere, but had not yet formed the source of the Law Lines.
Thinking of Hookedick’s time in the “Soul Land,” Angel speculated that Hookedick had gained insight into the Soul Laws there. Although he didn’t know much about the “Soul Land,” according to Nisi’s words, it should be a Wizard Garden specific to soul-based magic.
Hookedick’s ability to gain insight into the Soul Laws from an already formed Wizard Garden, even if very weak and not forming a system, could be considered a gift from the heavens.
So far, Angel had visited several Wizard Gardens, but he had never gained any insight into any Laws from formed Wizard Gardens. In this regard, Hookedick had a natural talent that surpassed Angel.
As Angel was pondering this, Toby, who had been hovering beside him, suddenly chirped and pointed in another direction.
It’s a pity that no matter how talented he was, he ultimately died here, defeated by Angel, and even the Law Lines he comprehended were absorbed by the spotted dog…?!
Angel suddenly realized that now was not the time to lament how talented a dead person was.
What’s more important now is, why can this dog absorb the Law Lines from a dead person’s body?
He had once spent some time inside this dog’s body and knew that there was a large and powerful Mysterious Aura within it. Angel guessed that this dog might be a Mysterious Soul or possibly the embodiment of a Mysterious Object.
Regardless of what it was, did its current behavior imply that its ability was to absorb the Laws?
So after being absorbed by it, what use would these Laws, which had lost their hosts and had no origin, have for the dog?
Angel speculated for a long time but still couldn’t come up with an accurate answer. He also had no position to ask Foxx, so he thought about it and finally had to suppress this mystery. He decided to prioritize finding Nausica for now, as there were so many unsolved mysteries in the world that it was impossible to solve each one.
With this in mind, Angel returned to examining the scene.
He also called out to Toby not to worry about the spotted dog’s behavior, and to focus on finding Nausica with all their might.
Although Toby’s lamp was knocked over, the blazing fire from the surrounding ancient buildings made the interstitial space even brighter than before.
Angel stood guard at the exit, while Toby circled above the crowd, searching for Nausica’s scent.
Time slowly passed, and another half-hour went by.
Nearly 80% of the nearly six-figure population in the interstitial space had dispersed, and during this process, Angel still had not seen Nausica.
A quarter of an hour later, everyone in the interstitial space was gone, and Nausica’s whereabouts remained unknown.
Angel’s expression darkened. Why were Coral and Hilary here, but there was no sign of Nausica? Could it be that Nausica hadn’t actually come to this interstitial space?
He turned around, frowning at Coral and Hilary.
The two of them were still being held up by the Gravity Lines, floating silently behind him. Facing Angel, Coral’s expression was a bit timid, while Hilary was still sound asleep.
His physical body was preserved in Sanders’ Gravity Garden, and he couldn’t release the Nightmare Plane to remove the parasitic creatures from their bodies. Otherwise, he could ask the two of them about Nausica’s whereabouts.
Angel pondered for a moment. He wanted to ask Foxx and Frogg to help them remove the parasitic creatures, but he couldn’t find a reason to persuade them.
Perhaps he didn’t need to persuade them, but instead make a direct request and see how they reacted?
Thinking of this, Angel shifted his gaze towards Foxx and Frogg.
Seeing Angel’s eyes, Foxx shook its big tail and flew over: “Your Highness Shava, have you chosen your servants?”
Frogg was not to be outdone: “Praise the Queen, quack quack, though there is no Moonlight to moisten my throat, I have a ray of Moonlight in my heart, and I want to recite it to Your Highness Shava.”
How did it sound like a love poem? Angel twitched the corner of his mouth: “Let’s not rush the matter of music; it is a sophisticated art. Right now, there are raging fires here, playing here would be unbefitting for both of you.”
Frogg said: “The raging fire cannot extinguish my poetic inspiration, and I will present to Your Highness Shava a more passionate war epic that I have just created.”
Angel choked on his saliva. He wanted to find an opportunity to interrupt, but Frogg’s continuous recitations with ups and downs prevented him from saying a word.
“Well… alright. Passion has its own beauty, and the raging fire paired with passionate arias is invigorating. It’s a performance to look forward to,” Angel said dryly.
Since Angel agreed, Frogg’s enthusiasm immediately surged. He conjured a pile of wooden boxes from somewhere, stacked them together to form a makeshift stage, and took the lead in stepping onto it.
“Though the stage is simple, my inner passion will not diminish, quack!” Frogg took a deep breath, his chest swelling like a woman’s, seemingly brewing an aria about to burst forth.
Foxx, on the other hand, flipped over and landed beside Frogg, fetched a wooden stool, sat on it, and gently plucked the harp.
To be honest, Foxx’s current image and movements were full of style, the big red tail swaying, even carrying a hint of bewitching charm. Its harp-playing skills were indeed high. As long as Frogg didn’t start singing, Foxx’s harp sounds were beautiful. But as soon as Frogg started singing, Foxx would change its harp-playing style according to Frogg’s voice, transforming it into bizarre and peculiar tunes.
And now, it was happening.
Frogg began to recite an epic that he believed was passionate, but to Angel’s ears, it sounded slightly petty and the logic was flawed. One moment, it was a beautiful picture of “Brewing Moonlight,” and the next, it turned into a “Bone-littered Wilderness” of ghost battlefields.
If there was a strong contrast and the story’s tension and conflict, it could be considered a masterpiece. However, Frogg simply combined what he thought were beautiful images, creating an odd poem and calling it an epic, which was quite laughable.
Unfortunately, Foxx’s excellent harp playing was led astray by the strange singing of Frogg, sometimes light, sometimes eerie, and occasionally punctuated by a sharp, unpleasant sound, like a woman’s fingernails scratching across a smooth blackboard.
With a heavy heart, Angel listened, feeling as if he were being tortured.
After the song, Angel managed to crack a dry smile on his pale cheeks and squeezed out a musical critique through gritted teeth: “This aria has quite a charm.”
As for what kind of charm, you can imagine for yourselves. He couldn’t come up with any more praise.
As Frogg prepared to sing the second poem, Angel sighed inwardly, enduring it. After all, he had asked to listen, and now he had to see it through.
But at that moment, a golden thread appeared out of nowhere.
It cut through the middle of them, turning a wooden box into splinters.
“This is Yorkshire’s Void Puppet Line,” Foxx muttered in a low voice, setting down the harp.
Frogg exclaimed: “This annoying thing, quack, is it here to ruin my performance?! The Moonlight will abandon it, definitely!”
The sudden appearance of the golden thread, identical to the one on the puppet girl Angel had seen outside the teleportation hall, raised his eyebrows. Judging by Foxx’s tone, it was indeed Yorkshire that had blocked the road.
Angel still remembered that Yorkshire was entangled with his Mentor. How did the thread suddenly appear here?
As Angel pondered, the golden thread moved, sending out a strange ripple.
Foxx closed his eyes, and the next second, he stood up: “Yorkshire is calling us. It seems to be in a passive situation.”
Frogg pouted: “I won’t go, you go if you want.”
Foxx wasn’t surprised by Frogg’s choice and shook his tail: “I’ll go and see what’s happening.”
Having said that, Foxx apologized to Angel and then slipped out of the interstitial space, disappearing into the darkness.