Translator: SumTLMan
Angel paused, only then realizing the implications of Tulas’s statement.
During Tulas’s final moments, his speech was a wild runaway train, unrestrained. He seemed to have indeed said that he was so famished he prayed for more ships to enter the desolate island. He couldn’t leave, but at least he hoped the outside world could bring more food and water.
At that time, Lucas’s skull shone with golden light at his side. Evidently, it had heard these words.
“So… The subsequent disappearances of ships in the Gear Abyss were due to your offhand remark?” Angel murmured softly.
During his time on the Cloud Conch, he had learned from Helen that ships often vanished in the Gear Abyss. Previously, he thought it was merely an unknown phenomenon of the Devil’s Sea region. But now, it seemed it was caused by Tulas’s careless babble?!
Tulas removed his helmet, scratched the back of his head, and revealed an innocuous grin. “I didn’t know either.”
The soul form of Tulas had returned to the peak of his youth. His energetic black hair spiked outward like a hedgehog’s quills. Unfortunately… with a baby-face, he looked more like a fourteen or fifteen-year-old boy, no matter how you looked.
“Lucas’s skull granted your wish for spatial shift and your wish for immortality. You’ve become a soul, or perhaps a ghost, truly immortal,” Angel shook his head, realizing the series of subsequent changes were all due to Tulas’s unconscious murmurs.
As a result, countless people and ships were sacrificed unknowingly. Even that silent space had gained an additional legend – the “Ship’s Graveyard.”
If others knew the truth, they likely wouldn’t worship this legendary pirate anymore. Angry individuals might even desecrate his tomb.
From this perspective, not only did Lucas’s nautical logbook confirm Angel’s hypothesis, but even Tulas’s words served as indirect evidence, making the sequence of events clearer.
Lucas’s skull was undoubtedly the root of all changes because, unbeknownst to them, it had become a Mysterious Object.
What a pity… Angel sighed. Even if he now understood all this, it was pointless.
It was already too late!
Having almost entirely untangled the threads of this mystery, Angel, filled with regret, didn’t discuss other matters with Tulas. Instead, he materialized some books describing the current era within the illusion, allowing Tulas to learn about the present time through reading.
Then, Angel packed up the Cathedral of the Dead, leaning against a beam in the wooden house with a bitter expression.
Anyone who missed out on a powerful Mysterious Object would undoubtedly be filled with regret, and Angel was no different. Even if he was likely to obtain another Mysterious Object at the next stop, it was always better to have more. Especially when it was a Mysterious Object with power nearly equivalent to the “Law of Causality.”
Regret ran through Angel like a neon green thread, he spent a tormented night steeped in remorse.
When Drew roused from the realm of pleasant dreams the following morning, the first thing that met his eyes was the ice-cold countenance of Lord Pat. Believing Lord Pat was still livid about the previous night’s incident, Drew kept his head lowered, not daring to utter a single word.
“There’s soup on the table, prepared by Kumol’s mother. Get up, have it, and then you have half an hour to pack. We’re leaving,” Angel stated, his voice as cold as a winter breeze.
Drew glanced at the small wooden table beside him, atop which sat a bowl of aromatic, steaming soup. The thought that it was made by Kumol’s mother sparked a mix of emotions in Drew’s eyes.
These emotions were fleeting, only lasting a couple of seconds before he caught a metaphorical cold dagger thrown by Lord Pat: “What? Are you worried she might have poisoned you?”
“No,” Drew quickly shook his head, stuttering out, “I just…”
“If there’s no issue, then hurry up and drink. Remember to take some rations with you, there won’t be as much food on the road,” Angel huffed, spinning on his heel and stepping out the door.
Drew sat there, staring at the closed door: Why did it seem as if… Lord Pat had somehow changed?
Meanwhile, as soon as Angel stepped outside, he was met by a crowd of villagers from the small fishing village. Upon catching sight of him, they collectively took a cautious step back. However, seeing that Angel wasn’t dismissing them, their curiosity piqued, and they continued to peer inside the yard.
Not daring to meet Angel’s gaze directly, their focus landed on the couple kneeling on the ground in the yard. The couple was none other than Kumol’s parents. Kumol, too, was meekly kneeling to the side. With heavy bags under his eyes, it seemed he had a rough night.
“Great wizard, we take full blame for this… Please, spare Kumol…”
As soon as Angel stepped outside, Kumol’s mother began to kowtow repeatedly, tears streaming down her face like a broken dam. She cried out pleas such as, “Kumol is still young and doesn’t understand,” and “Please be understanding, sir.”
Kumol’s father, an old fisherman, remained silent throughout. Although he was also kneeling, he simply puffed on his pipe, not moving an inch, no matter how many hints his wife dropped.
Kumol, perhaps shocked by the whole ordeal, was kneeling on the side, choking back sobs, not daring to cry too loudly for fear of disturbing the resting Uncle Drew inside, as his father had sternly warned him.
Angel had been aware of the situation outside from the very beginning. Earlier, the onlooking villagers were pointing and commenting, but as soon as Angel appeared, they all fell silent.
In reality, it was a simple matter.
Last night, Kumol was assailed by nightmares the entire time. The moment he closed his eyes, he was haunted by a repeating dream. He saw himself hide in the water as a result of a prank, only to be swallowed whole by a monstrous sea beast.
Kumol was terrified to the point of wetting himself. Upon waking, he cried incessantly, his sobs echoing through the night, sleep forever eluding him.
It was only then that Kumol’s mother remembered Angel’s earlier words, realizing that he had a hand in this. Consequently, she brought her family over first thing in the morning, falling to her knees in plea for forgiveness.
Angel remained silent. He was already somewhat frustrated due to the loss of a Mysterious Object. The scene unfolding before him only added to his irritation.
However, he still considered himself a keeper of order. He simply sat in the courtyard with an emotionless expression, refusing to vent his anger.
During his silent vigil, he gained a rough understanding of Kumol’s family.
Kumol was, without saying, a rambunctious child. His mother wasn’t necessarily bad, her only flaw being spoiling Kumol excessively. Kumol’s father spent his years out at sea fishing, working from dawn till dusk, almost entirely unable to discipline Kumol.
This led to Kumol’s unrestrained and unruly nature.
However, tracing back to the root of the issue, no one seemed to be gravely at fault; each member of their family had their small flaws, and these minor issues, when accumulated, could easily brew a major mistake.
Angel glanced at the other villagers. Similar to Kumol’s family, nearly every household in the village was the same – kind yet naive, doting on their children without knowing the right way to discipline them, too far from the city to access quality education.
This was a microcosm of the common people in the Bustling Bronze Era.
Trapped in their lives, they were not masters of their own fate.
Kumol’s mother had been pleading all morning, but Angel didn’t utter a word. It was only when Drew, with his luggage in tow, stepped outside that the atmosphere abruptly changed.
Kumol’s father, who had returned late from fishing the night before, had yet to meet Drew, who had been wronged by his son.
The sight of Drew, with most of his face wrapped in white gauze, finally brought tears to his eyes.
Kumol’s father, who had been silent all along, muttered apologies, acknowledging his failure to Drew and Drew’s grandmother.
Drew paused for a moment, asked a few questions to understand the situation, then turned his attention to Angel.
Kumol’s mother noticed Drew’s actions, and she thought Drew would plead with Angel on Kumol’s behalf after knowing about Kumol’s nightmares. However…Drew didn’t do that.
He stood behind Angel, whispering in a low voice, “Sir Angel, are we leaving now?”
Angel looked at Drew and a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. At the very least, Drew’s excessive kindness had somewhat receded.
Angel rose to his feet, casting a gaze upon the Kumol family before him, “I’ve said it before, bestowing nightmares isn’t a punishment. When one realizes their own faults, the nightmares will dissipate of their own accord.”
With his words hanging in the air, Angel paid no heed to the ever-increasing wails of Kumol’s mother, departing with Drew in tow.
The surrounding villagers dared not obstruct, creating an unhindered path through their midst.
As they arrived at the village’s outskirts, Drew saw the village chief and his father.
“Sir, are you planning to take Drew away?” The one speaking was the village chief’s father, an elderly man leaning on a cane.
“I’m a wanderer, countless breathtaking sights await my exploration in this world. I cannot remain stagnant forever,” Angel replied with a light smile.
The chief of the small fishing village then turned his gaze to Drew. A bandage wrapped around his head, yet carrying a travel bag larger than his own frame. With a touch of concern, the chief said, “Drew, even if you have to venture out, shouldn’t you wait for your wounds to heal?”
Drew shook his head, “It’s precisely to speed up the healing process that I must leave.”
Drew’s intention was to expedite his transformation into a transcendent being, in order to restore his left ear. However, the chief misinterpreted it as Drew viewing the small fishing village as a place of heartbreak, wishing to leave to heal his emotional wounds.
The chief sighed, hesitatingly said, “Then… I hope for a swift journey and return. The fishing village will always be your home.”
Drew nodded, “I understand. I hope you can look after my grandmother’s resting place for me.”
The chief responded with a hum, “Rest assured, leave it to me.”
“Let’s go.” Having finished his conversation with the old man, Angel took the first step out of the fishing village. Drew waved to the villagers trailing behind him, shared a hug and future dreams with his childhood friend Leif, and then, carrying a myriad of emotions, dashed out of the small fishing village.
The path ahead was uncertain. But wasn’t the unknown part of the fun?
As Angel and Drew boarded the Gondola, soaring into the skies, a young man in a blue robe, practicing cross-system magic with a shell, was under the quiet sea. He yawned, watching the fleeting airship in the sky, a hint of resignation flashed in his eyes.
“Sigh—” For the sake of the mission, he would have to follow.
The blue-robed young man shook his head, his body completely transformed into a bubble, merging with the dark undercurrent of the sea, disappearing with the ocean current.