Chapter 792 The Awakening of Tulas <TOC> Chapter 794 Fragments of Memory
Translator: SumTLMan
A mosaic of fragmented memories, at that very moment, froze into a solitary image.
It was a pitch-black cavern, his stick-thin figure lay on the ground, his lifeless eyes closed, halting the march of his life. His body gradually expanded, decayed, and rotted until it was reduced to a mere skeletal frame.
A ghastly pallor spread over the eerie skeleton.
“I am Tulas, but it seems… I have died?” When Tulas grasped this reality, he abruptly opened his eyes.
Upon his eyes’ opening, an overwhelming torrent of information rushed in.
The resentment, bitterness, and obsession with life that came after death turned him into a frenzied ghost. He then wandered aimlessly across the eerily silent island, year after year. In that time, many people ventured onto the island, and many were killed by him.
Each time he killed a living person, he would return to his resting place to sleep, awaiting the arrival of the next living soul. Much like a custodian of this tiny island, he eliminated all the entities that offended his sight.
Until countless years later, when he once again encountered a living person. That person was terrifyingly powerful, and it seemed like Tulas was ultimately eradicated by him.
“Wait, something’s not right. If I was obliterated, why do I still exist?” Tulas contemplated this quandary, barely noticing the shifting environment around him.
“But, I was surely killed by that peculiar gun?” Until now, Tulas couldn’t distinguish whether he was a ghost or soul.
As he puzzled over his identity, an unexpected voice reached Tulas’s ears.
“Awake, are you?”
It was a soft, understated voice, its endnote resonating with an enduring, graceful cadence that was pleasing to the ear.
Pleasing?
Tulas paused abruptly, surprised at his choice of such a delightful adjective to describe this voice.
Ever since his confinement in the bleak and silent abyss, all the emotions he could perceive were negative: darkness, fear, helplessness, madness, and then murder and death. These grim tunes constantly reverberated in the fragments of his memory.
Engulfed by these emotions, he spiraled deeper into the abyss.
He had never imagined that one day, he would feel joy at the sound of a pleasing voice. This was a minuscule, subtle joy that most might overlook, but Tulas, who hadn’t experienced a positive emotion in a millennium, sensitively noticed this shift within him.
How long had it been since he last felt such a beautiful and genuine pleasure?
In that moment, Tulas felt as though he had discovered a beacon of light. An overwhelming sense of nostalgia washed over him, akin to the joy of reuniting with an old friend. His heart swelled with happiness, and he found himself laughing uncontrollably.
“What brings you such joy?” Angel, who had been watching Tulas closely, asked. His spiritual senses allowed him to perceive every subtle movement of Tulas, enabling him to understand that Tulas’s laughter was a spontaneous expression of genuine happiness. “Is it because of the rebirth that brings you such delight?”
“Your voice is pleasing to the ear,” Tulas responded, his eyes squinting in amusement. He didn’t concern himself with the origin of the voice or who was speaking. Instead, he reveled in the rejuvenation of his parched consciousness, gradually coming to life after a long drought.
“Thank you for your compliment,” Angel replied softly, his gaze still locked on Tulas. Tulas, in his mirth, looked even more youthful. He had the charm of a tomboyish girl-next-door. Angel mused that if Tulas were to don a wig and a dress, he might just stir the dormant hearts of many young boys.
“Even though I can’t sense your joy, would you mind sharing your story with me once your euphoria has subsided?” Angel asked once again.
Tulas, still immersed in his joy, mumbled, “Your voice aligns with my aesthetic of sound. So, I can agree to your request.”
Upon receiving Tulas’s affirmation, Angel did not push him to share immediately. Instead, he respectfully waited. Only when Tulas’s laughter began to fade did Angel venture to ask, “Are you Tulas?”
“Yes, I am.”
Angel then asked, “Have you not been curious about who I am since you woke up?”
Tulas replied, “I know who you are. Are you the wizard who killed me?”
“Killed you? Do you see it that way? Do you believe you’re dead?” Angel continued his line of questioning, seeking to understand if there had been any distortions in Tulas’s cognitive abilities and memory.
After a moment of contemplation, Tulas said, “I’m not sure, but I believe you killed me, killed the version of me that wasn’t really me.”
“A version of you that wasn’t really you?” Angel asked, a smile creeping onto his face. “Are you referring to the you filled with malice? But, if I recall correctly, you were known as the Tyrant King.”
“Indeed, you killed the version of me I despised, the version I couldn’t control. In a way, I should thank you for eradicating him from my consciousness. As for the Tyrant King, it was nothing more than a moniker spread by a scheming noble I had deposed. It’s quite amusing how it has been perpetuated… However, I quite like the title of the Tyrant King. It aligns with my aesthetic for names.”
From the conversation with Tulas, Angel essentially confirmed one thing: Tulas’ memories and cognition should have been restored, not only recalling events from his lifetime, but also clear about what happened when he was a ghost.
It seems that the effect of the Prelude of Reincarnation really matched Sanders’ initial speculation. Six white light bullets could only be used on one ghost, and the final effect was to revert the ghost back to a soul state.
Angel immediately took out his notepad and rapidly noted down the experimental subject’s results.
While noting, Angel didn’t forget to explain a few things to Tulas, “After an ordinary person dies, there is a certain chance that a soul will be born. If the soul is not interfered with by external forces, and there is great resentment or obsession before death, it may fall into a ghost, where almost all the energy inside the ghost is negative energy…”
After Angel finished explaining, Tulas said in a daze, “So I was in a ghost state before, and now I have turned back into a soul state?”
“That’s right. Those six bullets that allowed you to revert back to a soul state are probably unique in the Wizarding World, extraordinarily precious. Therefore, it’s your fortune to be able to return to the real world again.”
After hearing this, Tulas suddenly realized. No wonder he had previously felt happy emotions; it was because he was no longer a ghost!
“Although you are now in a soul state, if you continue to be exposed to negative emotions and powers for a long time, there is still the possibility of falling. Therefore, I suggest you not to be obsessed with your obsession. If you fall back into being a ghost, my bullets would have been wasted.” Angel paused, “Of course, it’s just a suggestion. Do as you please.”
Even if he falls again, it can add new data to the experiment. Therefore, Angel doesn’t care whether Tulas will fall again or not. But before falling, he must make clear about the matter of that island.
“I feel very relaxed now, I don’t want to return to the time when I was mad…” Tulas said with a sense of horror. After being suppressed for a thousand years, he understood the preciousness of this moment’s tranquility.
“By the way, wizard, are we still on that desolate island?” Tulas suddenly asked.
Angel noticed that when Tulas said this, a trace of anxiety flashed in his eyes. He shook his head, “No, I’ve taken you out.”
Hearing that he had left the cage, Tulas’s expression froze, and something inside his heart snapped. It seemed like there was clear sky above his head, and a heavy stone pressing on his heart suddenly shattered.
Really left? Really left!
Whether it was the obsession when he was a ghost, or the wish as a soul, it was to leave that cage that had shackled him! Now that he has really left, although Tulas didn’t show it on the surface, his heart was already excited beyond measure.
After a long time, Tulas calmed down.
Now that he had left that cage, where was he going next? Tulas knew that all of this might be decided by the wizard.
He looked around the environment, wanting to first ascertain where he was, before speaking with the wizard outside.
This was a narrow room, the four walls were empty, aside from a window that looked colorful, resembling a cathedral’s window, there was nothing else.
Tulas hesitantly approached the window, but as he peered through the tinted window panes, he recoiled in the very next moment.
Outside, there was nothing to see, save for raging infernos.
“Could it be, I’m in the Abyss of Flame now?” Tulas exclaimed in shock.
Angel glanced at the micro-sculpted cathedral in his hand, then at the burning furnace beside him, a twitch forming at the corner of his mouth.
With a casual wave of his hand, much like Freud, he crafted an illusionary environment for Tulas’ room. It was furnished with a bed, seats, books, and even the —Song of the Deep Sea at Witching Hour— laid conspicuously on the desk, in a twist of morbid humor.
Gazing at the room that had abruptly transformed around him, Tulas wore an expression of astonishment. He walked a lap around the room, finally choosing to sit cross-legged on the bed, “I haven’t slept on such a soft bed for a long time. This aligns with my aesthetics of furniture. However, I don’t like having the bed facing directly at the mirror.”
Angel: “……”
So, there’s an aesthetic in voice, in naming, and even in furniture? Angel felt as though Tulas’ character was drifting more and more from his initial portrayal. Indeed, the narratives spun by authors can never be trusted. The strong and formidable image of Tulas in —Song of the Deep Sea at Witching Hour— might as well be blown away with the wind.
“This room is yours now. You’re free to arrange it as you wish,” Angel said.
Tulas nodded, then turned serious, “lord wizard, you expended your precious bullets to restore me from a ghost to a soul, and brought me out of that desolate island. Could you tell me why?”
“There are two reasons. Firstly, I hope you can answer some of my questions; secondly, you’re now my experimental sample. Naturally, I need to bring you along.” As Angel mentioned ‘experimental sample’, he carefully observed Tulas’ expression. Finding no change, he was somewhat surprised.
“Aren’t you afraid?” Angel raised an eyebrow.
“You went through so much trouble to turn me from a ghost back to a soul. You wouldn’t go through all that again to turn me back, right? Besides, I’m already dead. There’s no point in being afraid or not,” Tulas shrugged, sitting on the bed with his hands spread.
“It seems like you’ve resigned to your fate.”
“I have no choice but to accept it. I’m no match for you, lord wizard,” Tulas said helplessly.
“That’s not necessarily true. You should remember your time as a ghost, right? Back then, you even managed to kill an apprentice wizard from the White Pearl Shipping Company.”
Tulas tried to recall, but he had no memory of it. His memories as a ghost were chaotic. He had killed too many people. Anyone who set foot on the ship was slaughtered, without him caring who they were.
“Did I? I can’t remember. But even if I did, I could teleport when I was a ghost. Maybe I killed an incompetent wizard apprentice… Now that I’m a spirit and can’t teleport anymore, how can I possibly stand up to you, lord wizard?”
Angel looked puzzled, “You can’t perform spatial shift now? Could it be that spatial shifting is not your innate divine power?”
Chapter 792 The Awakening of Tulas <TOC> Chapter 794 Fragments of Memory