Chapter 660 Withering <TOC> Chapter 662 The Disappearance of Ananda
Translator: SumTLMan
Recalling the barren Mysterious Mountain, Angel wondered: “Could the inside of the Mysterious Mountain also be a concept of desolation?”
Sanders shook his head: “I don’t think so. I was just on that mountain, and I didn’t feel the presence of death. I think it has nothing to do with desolation.”
If it wasn’t desolation, what could it be? Could it be barrenness, or a complete absence of life?
As Angel continued to ponder, Sanders said: “Guessing now won’t give us any definitive answers. Gloria will surely come to you after realizing what it is, and then you’ll know.”
Angel nodded and didn’t press further on the issue. However, he was still puzzled about the activation of the Mysterious Objects: “Could it be that only conceptual Mysterious Objects can trigger the insight of this spell? Perhaps other Mysterious Objects don’t have this function?”
“Why do you say that?”
“I’ve experimented with dozens of alchemical illusions, and although I feel that activating the Mysterious Objects increases the activity of my brain, it seems unlikely that I could suddenly comprehend a spell out of thin air,” Angel said with a puzzled expression.
“I don’t know about that,” Sanders replied. “I would need to see more Mysterious Objects and analyze them to find the appropriate answer. However, my comprehension of the Withering Spell isn’t really a sudden realization. The information flood mobilized my own knowledge and combined it with my insights to create the Withering Spell.”
“As for why you haven’t grasped a spell, it’s probably because…”
At this point, Angel understood what Sanders was trying to say: his knowledge foundation wasn’t deep enough.
Angel admitted this as well.
However, in terms of alchemy knowledge alone, Angel thought he should be more knowledgeable than Sanders. If he could really create a spell out of thin air, he should be able to create an alchemical one, right?
But in reality, that didn’t happen. Maybe there are limitations to the creation of spells? Perhaps alchemy spells can’t be created?
When Angel thought of the word “limitations,” he suddenly had an epiphany and recalled his experience within Little Spot. The intertwining and merging of various laws, witnessing the birth and decline of civilizations… Perhaps, the comprehension of the spell was actually limited to the inherent laws within Little Spot itself? After all, his comprehension of the Mysterious Feeling originated from Little Spot.
This was purely Angel’s speculation.
To verify this, the only way was for him to gain insight into a new Mysterious Object’s Mysterious Feeling, and then incorporate the new Mysterious Feeling into the illusion to find out.
This is even more difficult. Even if he obtains a new Mysterious Object, he may not be able to comprehend its Mysterious Feeling. Initially, the mysterious core of Little Spot was completely defenseless against him, allowing him to wander within and gain insights. For other Mysterious Objects, if he tries to enter their core, he might destroy them. It’s not only about whether it’s worth it or not, but also that even if he destroys the Mysterious Object, he might not be able to comprehend its Mysterious Feeling.
Thus, this speculation is also challenging to realize.
Angel thought about returning to the Old Land Continent in a while, and by then, he would search for the Dream Conch of the Moonlit Coast, which Freud had promised him.
If everything goes well, he would have a Mysterious Object by then. Perhaps he could try to understand the Mysterious Feeling of the Dream Conch.
Angel initially wanted to tell Sanders his thoughts, but after pondering for a moment, he decided to hold back. After all, it was just a guess, and it wouldn’t be too late to talk about it after the experiment.
When the sunset glowed in the sky, they stopped discussing the Mysterious Objects.
“If you want to create something earth-shattering in the future, give me some time to prepare first. Don’t catch me off guard, leaving me with no idea how to respond,” Sanders sighed: “Why do I always feel that you give me more trouble than Flora?”
Angel felt somewhat embarrassed: “I didn’t expect its effects to be so good…”
“Never mind, just be careful. I was initially worried about people from the Rat Ant Underground Society, but now, compared to them, I’m more concerned about you being targeted by some reclusive old-timers,” Sanders sighed: “You know alchemy, right? Try to craft some protective items for yourself.”
Angel nodded. He indeed needed to craft some items for himself, especially since he was about to leave the Savage Grottoes. Even traversing the Devil’s Sea would not be an easy task.
“As long as you understand, you can go back now. If you need any books from the study, feel free to take them and read them,” Sanders said.
“I don’t need any books for now,” Angel stood up and hesitated for a moment: “Mentor, are you planning to go to the Nightmare Plane now?”
“Not yet, I still have some things to do,” Sanders replied vaguely.
Angel originally wanted to stay here, even if he didn’t go to the Nightmare Plane, he wanted to observe the situation when entering and exiting the Nightmare Plane. However, Sanders’ answer clearly indicated his attitude.
Helplessly, Angel nodded, turned around, and left. Before leaving, he placed the “Monument of the Strange Ring” on Sanders’ desk.
“What is this?” Sanders looked at the strange transparent rhombus and the Mobius ring inside, his eyes filled with a touch of amazement.
“It’s a sculpture with an Alchemy Illusion of Monument Valley,” Angel said: “It doesn’t involve Mysterious Objects; it’s just a pure illusion.”
Sanders nodded: “You crafted it very quickly. I will thoroughly analyze and evaluate your illusion and give you feedback later.”
With a poker face, Angel respectfully said: “Thank you very much, Mentor.”
After saying that, Angel stiffly turned and left the study.
Outside the study, Angel unexpectedly saw Butler Goode and Wimbledon. Wimbledon was holding a tray with one hand, with a pot and a small dish of snacks on it. Angel noticed that Wimbledon’s arm was trembling slightly, not knowing how long he had been holding that position.
Upon seeing Angel, Wimbledon immediately showed a relieved expression and strode towards Angel.
However, due to taking such big steps, he stumbled after only a few steps, and the tray was about to fall to the ground.
Goode sighed, showing a helpless expression. In the next second, his figure changed, appearing at Wimbledon’s side. With an elegant posture, he firmly caught the wobbling tray in the palm of his hand.
Wimbledon, on the other hand, fell heavily on his face.
As Wimbledon, with a mournful face, slowly got up while touching his red nose, Goode bowed to Angel with one hand: “Young Master Angel, this is afternoon tea. Would you like to have it in the living room or take it back to your bedroom?”
As he spoke, he placed the tray in front of Angel.
Afternoon tea? Angel opened the delicate porcelain pot, and a strong milky aroma wafted out.
Milk tea? A flash of delight crossed the depths of Angel’s eyes.
“Take it to the bedroom. I’m feeling a bit hungry,” Angel said seriously.
Angel and Goode headed towards the bedroom together, and Wimbledon followed them with a pout. He hadn’t forgotten the words his great-grandfather had told him: Lord Sanders might not agree to let him stay on Phantom Island, but he could try to get close to Young Master Angel.
Thus, the scene of afternoon tea took place. However, perhaps because Wimbledon felt embarrassed by his own fall, he didn’t dare to get too close, just trailing behind them at a distance.
“Did Wimbledon prepare the afternoon tea?” Angel asked in surprise.
“Yes. Wimbledon knew that Young Master likes dairy products, so he took the initiative to bring some to you,” Goode the butler replied. After he finished speaking, he noticed that Angel’s expression seemed a bit off, and with his shrewd mind, he understood Angel’s concern.
He changed the subject: “Young Master also knows that due to Wimbledon’s powerful Shadow Servant ability, his body and brain did not develop properly. His hobbies and thoughts are very childish, so the dairy products he makes are based on his own preferences. I’m not sure if they suit Young Master’s taste.”
The implication was that Wimbledon’s emotional and intellectual quotient was low, and he himself also enjoyed dairy products. He wouldn’t make fun of Angel’s preference for dairy products.
Angel coughed twice, of course understanding Goode’s words. Although he knew it was Goode’s kindness, he felt a sense of déjà vu as if he was a pampered young master. Even if Wimbledon knew he liked dairy products, Angel would feel awkward but not do anything to Wimbledon.
But with Goode saying this, it seemed as if he was about to bully Wimbledon…
“I understand it’s Wimbledon’s intention,” Angel said.
As they passed the living room, Angel suddenly saw the mansion’s door pushed open, and an unsuspecting Flora angrily flew in from outside.
“Locking the doors and windows of the study, making me go through the front door, it’s so infuriating. Isn’t this a waste of time?” Flora grumbled as she entered and saw Angel’s stunned face.
Flora raised her eyebrows and flew over, sniffing the rich milky aroma of the plate. Her eyes lit up.
Just as she was about to mock Angel for not growing up and appeasing her anger, she heard a gasp from Little Red behind her. Little Red happily took out a blood-red rose and handed it to Angel with delight.
Angel first greeted Flora respectfully, then took the rose and thanked Little Red with a nod. His actions were elegant and courteous.
Flora clenched her teeth. Little Red had already taken the initiative to show goodwill, so what could she say? She could only force herself to say: “Eating sweets at night, be careful of cavities.”
With that, Flora turned and headed towards Sanders’ study. Little Red lay on her back, turned her head back, and waved goodbye to him with her eyes glowing with green ghostly fire in the shape of a crescent moon.
Angel watched the direction Flora was heading to, which was obviously to find Sanders. Could it be that Sanders’ preparation was actually waiting for Flora to come? Was Flora going to the Nightmare Plane with Sanders as well?
Angel didn’t know and could only sigh quietly. He sniffed the fragrance of the rose, placed it on the plate, and said to the butler Goode: “Let’s go.”
Chapter 660 Withering <TOC> Chapter 662 The Disappearance of Ananda