Chapter 897 Leon's Cultivation <TOC> Chapter 899 The Return of Redhead
Translator: SumTLMan
Since Princess Shannon’s triumphant victory in the inaugural battle at Sea Moon City, a series of campaigns followed, conquering numerous provinces, each ending in victory.
Goldfinch, facing the disadvantage of Sea Wave, reversed the tide in a flash.
The proactive situation kindled hope in the hearts of the provincial administrators. The belief that the lost territories would certainly be reclaimed and victory was within reach took root. Consequently, with the decrease in foreign threats, every province started to focus on addressing their domestic issues – the refugee problem.
Watford leaned towards Conia’s approach when it came to solving the refugee crisis.
Encouraging refugees to resolve their own issues.
During the day, registered refugees were permitted to work within the city. At night, they would rest in the refugee resettlement area outside the city.
The daily grind was indeed exhausting. Yet, most refugees now had something to look forward to.
Daluke was among these refugees. However, his situation was unique as he had to not only fend for himself but also provide for his grandfather.
During the migration, seldom did the refugees consider the plight of the elderly. Many of the slightly older ones were either left behind halfway due to lack of physical strength or chose to stay in their original village to avoid causing trouble for their families. Therefore, there were very few elderly people in the refugee area.
Daluke’s grandfather was an exception. Despite being over seventy years old, he had travelled nearly a thousand miles from the fallen neighbouring province to Watford, all thanks to Daluke’s care.
They relied on each other for survival. They had barely weathered through the hard times when Daluke started working in the city during the day to improve their living conditions. However, catastrophe struck unexpectedly.
Daluke’s grandfather fell ill with a strange disease that made him feel as though worms were crawling all over his body. He developed numerous red swollen sores oozing with pus incessantly. This unspeakable illness made it nearly impossible for Daluke’s grandfather to live a normal life.
Daluke worked every day to earn money, finally saving enough for a doctor’s fee.
However, the doctor was unwilling to make a house call. Daluke had no choice but to carry his grandfather to the city. Yet, they were stopped by the guards at the city gate.
Although refugees were allowed to work in the city, the horrific condition of Daluke’s grandfather’s illness, which appeared like a contagious skin disease, alarmed the guards. They prioritized the safety of the city’s inhabitants and naturally hesitated to allow Daluke’s grandfather entry.
“My grandfather’s malady is not contagious, as you can see. I’ve been by his side daily and I’m perfectly fine,” Daluke implored, a picture of desperation etched across his face.
The surrounding refugees rallied to his defense, “Indeed, his grandfather has been ill for more than a month. If it were infectious, it would have spread by now. Daluke has gone through great lengths to collect the medical expenses. Please, let him in.”
However, the city guards were but minor figures in the hierarchy, accustomed more to obeying orders than dispensing discretion. Confronted with a chorus of pleas, they found themselves in a dilemma. Helplessly, they glanced towards the Captain of the City Defense Team, only to see his dismissive shake of the head. Regretfully, they maintained their refusal to Daluke’s plea, a line they were obligated to toe.
Even Daluke’s kneeling pleas failed to grant him entry. As grief welled within him, he choked on the realization that he could not even save his last surviving relative, his grandfather. Overwhelmed, he coughed up a mouthful of blood.
“Alas, the poor lad is so upset, he’s coughed up blood,” the surrounding refugees murmured, shaking their heads as they retreated. While they dared not openly confront the guards, they lent their voice to Daluke’s pleas, but their day’s labor awaited.
Upon Angel’s arrival at the city gates, his eyes fell upon a young lad, younger than himself, sobbing on his knees beside an elderly man, the ground beneath them stained with fresh blood.
Angel was conspicuous amidst the throng of refugees, his attire and the aura he exuded were a stark contrast to their worn visages.
The moment Angel revealed his family emblem, the guards didn’t dare obstruct his path. Even the Captain of the City Defense Team stepped forth to express his respect.
Daluke learned from the guards that the youth, not much older than him, was a noble. He glanced at his unconscious grandfather on the ground, grit his teeth, and charged towards the noble youth…
Angel stood silently as the boy fell to his knees, clutching at his shoes in desperation.
From Daluke’s pleas, Angel surmised that the boy simply wished to enter the city and seek medical help for his grandfather, only to be denied by the guards, citing fears of a possible contagion.
Upon witnessing a refugee assault a noble, the guards nearby moved to apprehend Daluke.
Angel glanced at Daluke’s grandfather, then waved off the guards, “Let him in. His grandfather’s illness isn’t infectious.”
The guards paused, exchanging confused glances. In this moment, they were unsure whether to proceed with the arrest, or to comply with the noble’s orders.
After a while, the captain of the city defense team walked over, looking at Daluke: “Since the noble gentleman has given you an opportunity, you may enter. However, cover the exposed skin of your grandfather. Even if he has no infectious disease, if he frightens the public and we receive complaints, I will have no choice but to enforce the law.”
Daluke hadn’t expected the situation to turn on its head like this. He had even considered the possibility of being beaten to death for offending a noble — there had been precedents of refugees losing their lives over glaring at the aristocracy.
Quickly, he kowtowed to Angel, simultaneously removing his own coat to cover his grandfather’s exposed skin.
Looking at the emotionally overwhelmed Daluke, Angel lightly shook his head, “Help your grandfather up. I believe, you might need a doctor more than he does.”
After leaving these words, Angel turned and entered the city.
Upon entering, Angel seemed to leisurely stroll around. However, whenever he saw a shop selling tools or raw materials, he would stop and use the Dream Conch to transfer the entire store into the Wilderness of Dreams.
Originally, he planned to make each building in the first city of the Wilderness of Dreams unique. But he soon realized that he could appreciate the aesthetics of a single building, but when a mishmash of attractive buildings were placed together, their incompatibility actually made them less appealing.
Therefore, he stopped being picky about the buildings, and directly moved the shops in. If they looked unattractive, Freud was there, he could remodel them.
After fulfilling his promise to Freud, Angel made his way to a structure enveloped in a deep blue, as though embodying the surges of the sea.
This was the Ocean Theatre.
Angel had been greatly fascinated by this place in the past, because his childhood idol, the great music maestro Megev, would always perform at the Ocean Theatre whenever there was a national tour in Watford.
It was a dreamland of his childhood.
In all of Watford, the Ocean Theatre was the most distinctive. Angel planned to relocate the Ocean Theatre into the Wilderness of Dreams. Even if it didn’t serve any practical purpose right now, it would be fulfilling a childhood dream.
Just as Angel was about to bring out the Dream Conch, he suddenly noticed a young boy sitting at the entrance of the Ocean Theatre.
It was the same boy he had seen at the entrance earlier, Daluke.
Bare-chested, Daluke sat on the steps at the entrance of the theatre, looking dazed. His grandfather, who had been unconscious earlier, was now awake and sitting next to him.
Daluke’s grandfather was quietly shedding tears, while Daluke himself leaned against the flower bed, lost and forlorn.
Neither spoke a word until Daluke heard footsteps approaching from behind. He collected his wits slowly, “My apologies, I should be on my way…Ah, it’s you, the noble gentleman?”
Daluke initially thought a guard from the Ocean Theater was coming to shoo them away. Yet to his surprise, it was the young noble who had helped him enter the city earlier.
He respectfully bowed to him.
Angel gazed at him quietly, “From your expression, it seems you are unsatisfied with the doctor’s diagnosis?”
“No, the doctor said that there is nothing seriously wrong with my grandfather…” Daluke had not anticipated that a noble would show concern for commoners like them. His voice even trembled slightly as he responded.
“I’m aware that your grandfather is not ill, but you seem to be the one truly affected.” Angel glanced at Daluke’s grandfather. Although his body was covered with purulent sores, a swift scan of his mental strength revealed his internal condition to be normal.
His symptoms were reminiscent of a psychosomatic disorder, potentially triggered by a sudden change in environment – transitioning from a clean, structured life to the squalid slums of a refugee district. He had seen a few insects crawling on him, imagined his body being consumed by these creatures, and perceived a false impression of parasites leading his body to exhibit a stress response.
At its core, he was not ill, just overthinking. However, patients like him often don’t perceive it that way. They firmly believe they are suffering from physical illnesses, sometimes to the point where they genuinely feel unbearable itching and might even die from imagined septic wounds.
However, the one who truly caught Angel’s attention was Daluke. He had previously noticed Daluke’s vital energy fluctuating wildly, with his bodily functions slowly deteriorating. It was somewhat akin to Jon’s condition, but Daluke was not eroded by a World Will; he seemed to be afflicted with a certain disease.
With a bitter smile, Daluke responded, “The doctor diagnosed me with Dusk Syndrome, a fatal ailment in medical terms. He said I wouldn’t live past the week.”
“Dusk Syndrome?” Angel had not heard of this condition before. His understanding of medicine was entirely from his childhood education under Jon, which was predominantly based on terrestrial disease terminology.
“Lord, are you a physician?” inquired Grandpa Daluke, who was incessantly scratching an itch on his side. His eyes welled up with tears, “Lord, you were able to discern something wrong with Daluke’s health, does this mean you are a doctor? If so… can you save Daluke? If you can, even if it costs me my life right now, I am willing.”
Angel hesitated for a moment, then turned his gaze towards Daluke, “I am not a doctor, and I don’t have the means to cure you. However, I can offer you an alternative way to continue living, but it will mean a complete departure from the Old Land Continent. Are you willing?”
The moment Angel detected a similarity between Daluke’s symptoms and Jon’s enigmatic affliction, he decided to add him to the list of experimental subjects. After all, Daluke did indeed suffer from an incurable malady.
Daluke looked startled, failing to comprehend Angel’s proposition. However, Angel did not offer further explanation. He simply presented the choice before him, letting him make the decision.
“If I leave, what will become of my grandfather…” Daluke cast a worried glance towards his sole kin.
“Don’t worry about me, boy. I can take care of myself,” Daluke’s grandfather hastily reassured him. However, seeing the widespread abscesses and inflammation on his grandfather’s body, Daluke was far from convinced.
Daluke was concerned about his grandfather, yet if Angel didn’t help him, he was destined to succumb to his illness.
Caught in this tormenting dilemma, Daluke found himself ensnared in a web of indecision.
Chapter 897 Leon's Cultivation <TOC> Chapter 899 The Return of Redhead