Chapter 845 The Placement Problem <TOC> Chapter 847 The Royal Expedition
Previous page password is bold portion: Fi5+-DruXi3
Translator: SumTLMan
As time flowed unceasingly, half a month had unexpectedly slipped away.
As the Month of Spring Offering waned into its latter half, Angel finally set aside his holographic tablet. While he hadn’t gone through all the recorded data on the device, what remained were mostly low-level tricks or magazines for apprentice-level reading. It was near impossible to find a cure from such resources.
Leaning against a bench, Angel’s mind was a whirlpool of fluctuating thoughts. After a moment, he released a long sigh.
Was there really no way to save Jon?
Was his only option to seek out Mentor Sanders? But Sanders had ventured into the Abyss, and it was highly probable he hadn’t returned.
What should he do then? Seek out Gloria?
Angel was shrouded in a cloud of gloom. His initial purpose for stepping into the Wizarding World was twofold: firstly, to save Jon, and secondly, to witness a world more magical and awe-inspiring. But now, he was unable to even fulfill his first goal. Even though his own power had improved at a rapid pace, this sense of defeat left him listless.
As he found himself unable to shake off the melancholy and blame himself, there was a knock at the door.
He knew who it was — his personal maid, Ollie.
Almost every few days, Ollie would knock on his door. Even though Angel had declared he was in seclusion, she remained steadfast. From Ollie’s point of view, how could anyone go without food or drink for so long? So, she would always arrive with a food trolley, though most of the time, she would return empty-handed.
Just when Ollie thought that she had made another fruitless effort today, the door unexpectedly opened from inside. A low, weary voice came from within: “Come in.”
Ollie’s eyes lit up as she pushed the food trolley into the room.
The first thing she saw was Angel, sitting at the desk, propping his cheek with one hand, looking rather worn out.
“Master, are you alright?” Ollie asked with worry.
“I’m fine.” Seeing the disbelief in Ollie’s eyes, Angel could only muster a weak smile and reassured her, “I’m doing well.”
A heavy silence hung in the air. Ollie wanted to say something comforting but held back, as she didn’t know what Angel had been doing these days. All she could do was advise him with clichéd words like “don’t be too obsessed with things,” “balance work and rest,” and other neutral topics.
Angel didn’t interrupt Ollie’s rambling. He let her speak while she laid out the food on the table. Once all the food was arranged, Angel finally spoke, “Has anything happened outside while I was in seclusion this past month?”
The main reason Angel had let Ollie in today was to get an update on recent happenings, particularly the resolution of the refugee problem in Leon’s jurisdiction.
Ollie didn’t know exactly what Angel wanted to know. She could only relay the changes she’d observed in great detail.
The tale primarily recounts the stories of the Kulakuka tribe, who, with the aid of diligent servants, managed to establish the beginnings of their village within a month. Initially, the servants offered to aid the Kulakuka in crafting their crude materials into dwellings. This, however, was politely declined by their leader, Kumumu, stating it was unnecessary. But, Ollie, overhearing from Auchanchan, discovered the true reason: they found the servants’ craftsmanship lacking in aesthetic appeal.
“By the way,” Ollie said, “Chief Kumumu asked me to convey a message to the young master. The village is still unnamed and they’re hoping that you could bestow a name upon it during your next visit.”
Ollie continued, sharing the recent exploits of the moon bellflower fairy and Toby. This odd pairing of friends has been venturing into the mountains daily, their purpose, however, remains a mystery.
There was also the case of the Damask Nano. Led by Auchanchan, the sisterhood succeeded in safeguarding three strands of silk from his grasp. Nano was furious, so much so that he refused to leave his dwelling for two days.
Ollie’s tales were aplenty, most revolving around the manor’s affairs. As for the developments in Grud Town, she was less informed.
“What about Leon? What has he been up to recently?”
“Recently, the Viscount has been keeping irregular hours, often leaving early and returning late. It seems he’s been involved with some kind of project at the refugee camp with Uncle George.”
“Do you know the current situation at the refugee camp?”
“I’m not sure about that,” Ollie shook her head. She didn’t pay much attention to outside affairs, her focus primarily centered around the immediate manor.
Despite her lack of knowledge about the refugee situation, Ollie did provide Angel with a fascinating piece of information.
“It’s quite odd, though,” she said, “When I visited the blacksmith Dim in town the day before yesterday, he mentioned that there seems to be fewer refugees recently. Even those that arrive don’t tend to stay in Grud Town.”
Could this information indicate that Leon had started to enforce restrictions on refugees? Angel pondered.
Their exchange continued until Angel finished his meal. After Ollie left with the food cart, Angel ventured back into the Nightmare Plane.
Returning to his desk, he took out the Cathedral of the Dead.
Angel projected his mental power into it, first checking on Tulas. The latter seemed rather composed, lying on a bed within the illusion, engrossed in a novel.
Angel noticed that the novel Tulas was absorbed in was —Song of the Deep Sea at Witching Hour—.
It was an adventure novel based on the legendary pirate “Tyrant King” Tulas, who lived two thousand years ago. Angel had been quite engrossed in it for a time, even admiring the heroic image of Tulas in the book.
However, after encountering the actual Tulas and his baby-face, his constructed image of the character collapsed instantly.
“Did I kill the legendary pirate Red Beard? I don’t remember killing him… Huh? Red Beard is so powerful, am I really that brave? There’s no need to think about it, Red Beard must have been killed by me!” Tulas mused proudly while reading a novel.
Angel: “…”
He once researched the book —Flashing Silver Era—, discovering that when Tulas dominated the Far East Sea, the legendary pirate Red Beard in the book was only five or six years old… so, it was basically impossible for the two to have clashed.
However, —Song of the Deep Sea at Witching Hour— is just a novel after all. Two legendary pirates exist in the same era, even if one was born after the other, it doesn’t hinder the creative liberties of the novelist.
Angel understood the plot set up by the novelist, he just couldn’t comprehend Tulas, this fool. Do you or do you not know whether you’ve killed Red Beard?
Angel really didn’t want to see Tulas’ smug expression, so he hastily blocked him out. He quickly recorded the state of Tulas’ soul stability in his notes, then shifted his attention to another room in the Cathedral of the Dead.
This used to be Freud’s residence, but Freud now stayed in the Feran Continent, leaving this place vacant. Although it was vacant, Angel didn’t dismantle this illusionary landscape.
Because Freud left a lot of materials about dreams here, and his book —Dream Entry—, was also left here.
Angel came here to review the spell of Dream Entry.
In the past month, he studied Dream Entry every day. But after all, cross-practice progress was not fast, and he had to spend time checking the holographic tablet, reducing the time spent on learning Dream Entry.
Now that there are no records in the holographic tablet, when there are no other leads, he can’t waste time, so he earnestly started practicing the Dream Entry spell.
Not only did he want to see Jon’s dreams, but the “Dream Conch of the Moonlit Coast” he obtained also required Dream Entry to be tested in tandem.
After practicing Dream Entry, Angel spent most of his time in sleep, understanding what “dream” is, which surprisingly replenished his exhausted mental state.
A week later, after nearly a month and a half of being reclusive, Angel finally stepped out of his room.
His progress with Dream Entry was slow. Every night before he fell asleep, he would set himself expectations according to the rules of “lucid dreaming,” but once he fell into a dream, he would sleep soundly, having no recollection of what dream he had upon waking up.
If he couldn’t even achieve “lucid dreaming,” let alone Dream Entry.
So, after a week of dejection, he finally decided to go out and relax. After all, everything he was currently dealing with was going awry, and continuing in this state of defeat would only make him more tense. It was better to give himself a half-day break.
As twilight draped itself across the land, Angel set foot outside. Not sensing Ollie’s presence nearby through his mental faculties, he deduced that she was engaged in tidying up the main hall with the housemaid Mana. Auchanchan, along with her little companions, was also there, lost in light-hearted chatter.
Observing the harmonious coexistence of the Kulakuka tribe and the manor’s inhabitants, Angel was flooded with a sense of relief. In one way or another, he had fulfilled the trust placed in him by the Kulakuka tribe’s High Priest.
Choosing not to interrupt their activities, Angel ventured towards the vicinity of the Milk Fruit Tree.
Toby and the moon bellflower fairy were perched upon the tree. The instant Toby spotted Angel, it fluttered towards him, nuzzling its head affectionately against his cheek as it landed on his shoulder.
Regardless of Toby’s fondness for the moon bellflower fairy, their bond was firmly rooted in friendship. To Toby, Angel was nothing less than family. After not having seen Angel for over a month, Toby didn’t hesitate to express its longing.
After a few moments of playful interaction with Toby, Angel noticed the moon bellflower fairy fluttering towards him, holding aloft a cup larger than itself to present to him.
The cup was filled with the sap of the Milk Fruit Tree, mixed with a hint of syrup flower, resulting in a delightful aroma.
Taking the cup from the fairy, Angel looked at it with a measure of surprise. He remembered the fairy as a timid creature, as skittish as a mouse, always hiding behind others in his presence. He never expected that after spending just over a month at the manor, its courage would have grown.
Without a hint of teasing, Angel naturally accepted the cup and took a hearty sip.
Just as Angel had consumed nearly half of the drink, a voice echoed from behind, “Angel?”
He stiffened, turning around to find Leon approaching from the direction of the vegetable patch.
At the same time, Leon noticed Angel’s lips, smeared with the white unidentified substance from his drink.
Barely containing his laughter, Leon asked, “Drinking milk in the dead of night, are we?”
Angel silently wiped his lips, nonchalantly responding, “The moon bellflower fairy gave it to me. Seeing its newfound bravery, I thought I’d encourage it by having a bit.”
Leon’s eyes danced with mirth, his expression clearly saying, “Do you really expect me to believe that?”
Angel’s mouth twitched, deciding to divert the conversation, “You’re only getting back now, were you dealing with the refugee issue?”
Although Angel’s intent to change the topic was as clear as day, Leon didn’t call him out. Instead, he decided to play along.
Chapter 845 The Placement Problem <TOC> Chapter 847 The Royal Expedition