Chapter 931 Divine Attendant <TOC> Chapter 933 Proverb
Translator: SumTLMan
It was then that Angel was contemplating his departure.
However, just as he was about to leave, Alda abruptly retreated from the Wilderness of Dreams, frantically sought Freud, exclaiming, “Young Master Tyson, it’s disastrous — something has happened—”
Something happened? Angel, initially set on leaving, paused mid-step, turning his gaze towards Alda.
Beneath Freud’s perplexed gaze, Alda relayed the occurring circumstances.
Upon Alda’s conclusion, Angel and Freud simultaneously furrowed their brows.
According to Alda, a pair of individuals, possessing grudges in their life, encountered each other again in Initial Heart City, leading to a conflict. During the turmoil, one’s spiritual light was extinguished completely!
Freud’s prior research suggested that those killed in the Wilderness of Dreams, their spiritual light would disappear. Nevertheless, this seemed limited to those whose physical bodies were already deceased in reality, only leaving behind their spiritual light; for the living, when harmed to a certain extent in the Wilderness of Dreams, they would reflexively awaken from the dream.
In fact, Freud had already anticipated such a situation and had even organized a defense squad.
Yet, today this incident still took place.
And that wasn’t the gravest part. After the individual committed the act, they promptly fled. During the escape, a few attempted to obstruct him. Relying on his exceptional agility, he killed several individuals.
Freud inquired, brow furrowed, “And where is he now?”
Alda responded anxiously, “Still on the run! He has already breached the defenses and escaped outside the city!”
“I see,” said Freud, his expression stormy. There weren’t many individuals in Initial Heart City to begin with, and now, with more deaths, the research data had become even scarcer. He could not be anything but displeased.
Moreover, this was a problem that had arisen after Angel had given him free rein, and it happened right in front of Angel.
“Lord, I’ll immediately enter and apprehend him.” With these words, Freud was prepared to grab the Dream Access Device and enter the Wilderness of Dreams.
Angel halted him, “Wait, take these.”
Angel drew some weapons from his bracelet, which he had used for practice in earlier years. Simultaneously, he also produced some magic rune scrolls and, through the Dream Conch, pinpointed the location within the Wilderness of Dreams.
“In a while, I’ll cast you directly into the vicinity of these objects; ensure you remember to fetch them.”
Freud nodded, promptly immersing himself into the Wilderness of Dreams.
While Freud set off in pursuit of the culprit, Angel, however, found himself caught in the gears of contemplation.
Such volatile elements exist even in the most stable societal structures, let alone a place like Initial Heart City, where the foundations of a social system were yet to be fully erected.
Angel wasn’t apprehensive about Jon’s safety. Upon learning that spiritual light could be scattered, he had left Jon with an array of defensive devices, predominantly passive in nature. Given the current human standards in the Wilderness of Dreams, breaking through those defenses was next to impossible.
However, though Jon was out of harm’s way, there was a pressing need to devise a plan to mitigate such unstable factors.
Before long, Freud returned from the Wilderness of Dreams, his face still tinged with a pallor.
“I’ve managed to scatter the culprit’s spiritual light. However, in his lifetime, he was an elite knight with formidable combat skills. I barely held my ground. Without the weapon provided by you, it would’ve been a war of attrition,” Freud spoke, possibly with a touch of flattery. Yet, there was no untruth in his words; after all, he was not in the blood branch. His combat skills during close-range battles were nearly on par with the elite knight’s, his only advantage being a slightly superior combat intuition. Without the aid of an alchemical weapon, an enduring fight was a high possibility.
Freud mused, “It seems I must set a limit to the power of those I bring here before extraordinary abilities can be utilized in the Wilderness of Dreams.”
In reality, Freud could bring in some of the most powerful individuals among mortals to maintain order in Initial Heart City by simply making a contract. However, such a contract needed the oversight of the World Will to ensure its solidity, and using it on mortals was rather wasteful.
Angel stated, “Moving forward, our priority should be to establish an appropriate preventive and punitive system.”
Freud sighed, “I understand. It seems I’ll have to use those alchemical items to intimidate the riff-raff from now on.”
“To intimidate the residents, we don’t necessarily need alchemical items,” Angel contemplated, “How about this, I’ll bring someone in.”
Ten minutes later, at the top balcony of the Azure Tower in Initial Heart City within the Wilderness of Dreams.
A figure crowned with a bovine horned helmet was now part of Angel’s entourage. His visage was largely obscured by the helmet, revealing only the lower half of his face. Regardless, one had to admit his lips were delicately rosy, finely shaped; from this one could deduce he was a young man.
He wore merely a circular chest plate on his upper body, displaying an expanse of abdominal muscles, and even the pubic hair just below his navel could be vaguely seen. His lower half was clad in a primitive-style leather skirt, paired with fur boots on his hairy legs.
The man’s physique was quite tall and slender, but his left foot was missing, replaced by a sharp, curved hook.
“Wow, the architectural style here is beautiful, perfectly in line with my aesthetics.” His voice carried a hint of surprise, “So, this is going to be my territory from now on?”
“You’re just a sheriff,” Angel stated.
“The sheriff’s job is to patrol the territory, so in other words, this is my territory!”
Angel didn’t feel like entertaining this simple-minded fellow. The last time this man read —Song of the Deep Sea at Witching Hour—, he confused the fictional plot with reality, making Angel question his intelligence.
This man was none other than Tulas, whom Angel had been ignoring for more than half a year.
The reason Angel kept Tulas around was to observe the follow-up effects of the “Prelude of Reincarnation”. Although Tulas had never complained of discomfort in the Cathedral of the Dead, considering his intelligence was not high to begin with and the confined space he had been dwelling in for years, Angel figured his IQ might even drop in the future. Therefore, he thought of bringing him to the Wilderness of Dreams to make use of his remaining heat.
Despite Tulas’ peculiar thought process, his character was actually decent. Moreover, as a legendary pirate recorded in the books, his strength was formidable, easily overshadowing everyone in Initial Heart City.
Previously, Freud had sparred with Tulas. If Freud hadn’t used alchemical items, he would have been defeated quickly.
This showed that Tulas’ combat consciousness and combat skills far surpassed Freud’s.
Therefore, Tulas was perfectly suited to be the sheriff who keeps the peace.
“As a sheriff, the first thing you need to do is…” Freud began instructing Tulas on his behavioural standards from the side.
However, Tulas obviously didn’t appreciate it. He waved his hand, “I got it, I got it. Isn’t it just cracking down on elements that disrupt stability? I’m very good at that! You should know that I used to be a man who dominated the Far East Sea, even the legendary pirate Red Beard was killed by me!”
Angel responded indifferently, “When you died, Red Beard was not even ten years old.”
“Are you trying to fool me? He’s clearly over thirty, I’ve seen it written in a book,” Tulas declared smugly, “What’s recorded on paper cannot be mistaken.”
“—Song of the Deep Sea at Witching Hour— is merely a novel.”
“But a novel is still a historical reconstruction!”
Angel silently observed Tulas. There was no hint of doubt in his eyes, proof that he truly believed in the tale spun by the novel. A sigh escaped Angel’s lips inwardly, resolving to let it be – there was no sense in arguing with a fool.
“Focus on your duties, and, it might be best if you consider a change of attire.” Angel lost interest in the discussion and promptly dismissed Tulas. Tulas, elated, had not interacted with human society for a considerable time and was brimming with curiosity about everything here, quickly leaping from Azure Tower.
Freud was taken aback. Could Tulas’ current physique endure a jump from Azure Tower?
He leaned over to take a closer look, only to find Tulas’ gaze piercingly intense. Every few steps he fell, his left foot’s hook would latch onto the crevices on the wall, effortlessly transitioning even amidst the weightlessness of freefall, unhindered until he landed on the ground. Before touching the ground, he even performed an elaborate roll.
Upon landing, Tulas flashed Freud a radiant smile from the top of the tower, leaving him with nothing but his departing figure.
“He’s showing off, this guy has always been a show-off in history,” Angel commented quietly.
Freud’s eyes were filled with worry: “Lord, is this man truly reliable?”
Regarding Tulas, Angel only informed Freud about his identity, without mentioning what happened in the desolate space previously. Hence, Freud only knew that Tulas was a ghost that had been dead for several thousand years.
“He has made a pact with me, you can trust him.” As an experimental soul for Angel, and due to his uniqueness, Tulas had signed a contract with him long ago. “His personality might be a bit eccentric, but his powerful abilities are undeniable. Besides, what he said is true, he once ruled over a large marine territory. Being a sheriff should be manageable for him.”
Since even Angel had faith in him, Freud chose not to press on: “I understand. However, how much does he know about the Wilderness of Dreams?”
“He knows nothing. I only told him that this place is somewhat akin to an alternate space.” Though Tulas was trustworthy, his loose tongue was not. To avoid any slip of tongue, it was better to withhold information.
Freud nodded, he roughly understood how he should treat this newcomer sheriff.
After resolving the preliminary issues in Initial Heart City, Angel commenced his journey away from the Revelation Continent.
Little did Angel know, that not long after his departure, Rosam, the Vice Captain of Ashen Time, rushed towards Borel Town, the two just missing each other in the passing.
Throughout his homeward journey, Angel pondered upon a conundrum—
“Where does the spiritual light go after it dissipates in the Wilderness of Dreams?”
Like those previously disintegrated into spiritual light, they can essentially be deemed as inhabitants of the dream realm or dream creatures. Upon their demise, what kind of transformation takes place?
Nothing simply vanishes without reason; it must follow the law of conservation.
When humans die in reality, they nourish nature after a series of cycles. Following this logic, does the dissipating spiritual light nourish the Wilderness of Dreams?
Yet, how can such spiritual light nourish anything? Furthermore, can they coalesce once again? If indeed they can, would they be the same individuals?
These myriad questions piqued Angel’s curiosity. This was not only about the future of Jon but also about the destiny of the Wilderness of Dreams.
Even though it may seem like Angel now has the Wilderness of Dreams under his control, in truth, there are still many mysteries left unsolved within it. However, there’s no doubt that there isn’t a present solution for these mysteries; he hopes that when he gains more power in the future, he will be able to find the answers.
Three days later, Angel returned to Pat Manor.
His first order of business upon his return was to observe the physical changes in Jon. From what he could see, it was neither good nor bad yet. However, if left unchecked, it would probably start to deteriorate.
Therefore, in order to resolve Jon’s predicament promptly, Angel began preparations to return to the Vast Continent after settling back in.