Chapter 1064: Section 1065 Abyssal Awakening
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This sudden attack caught Angel completely off guard. By the time he reacted, the attack had already reached his face, and everything before him had turned dark.
Angel’s body hadn’t even had the chance to respond, with only his pupils contracting slightly.
In this critical moment, the gentle breeze barrier surrounding Angel suddenly seemed to be infused with new life. The breeze ceased, a hurricane arrived, and the dark light, upon reaching Angel’s face, was as if a shell had hit a thick layer of rubber; it could bend, but it could not advance any further.
“On my own turf, you dare to attack an emissary of Odeclass,” Fafnir’s cold voice suddenly echoed in his ears.
Only then did Angel feel that everything around him had resumed moving, his heartbeat returned to normal, the quietness in his ears was replaced once again by a cacophony of sounds, and his somewhat blurry vision also became much clearer.
He raised his head and looked towards Fafnir, not far away.
Although he did not know what had happened before, nor what Fafnir was talking about, Angel understood that the previous attack must have been blocked by Fafnir for him.
Angel wanted to express his gratitude, but the tension in the air was so drawn, there simply was no opportunity for him to speak.
At that moment, Yadasai, who had retracted his bony wings and was clad in black bone armor, said something else, and Fafnir’s momentum instantly rose. His asymmetrical green-red eyes sparked a faint glow, his oily black skin began to show slow-forming scales patterned like those of a dragon, and gradually behind Fafnir, a terrifying dragon-shaped phantom shadow began to appear… It was unmistakably his Wind Dragon form!
The atmosphere seemed to have reached its freezing point.
Angel’s mind was frantically attempting to decipher what he should do now. However, before he could come up with an idea, a dark wind appeared beneath his feet.
Angel was startled for a moment, then he was swept up by the dark wind, flying in a parabola through the air.
Angel managed to regain his balance with great effort and was about to manipulate the Night Crossing to escape the dark wind when it dissipated on its own.
Simultaneously, Angel crashed down in front of a massive building.
Angel saw the familiar sign: the Hunting Museum!
By then, Angel could guess that the dark wind was probably also Fafnir’s doing. If he had stayed at the scene, Fafnir would have to be distracted protecting him and would not be able to fight freely.
Relatively speaking, the safest place in the entirety of Lassudral was the Hunting Museum. At least with the Night Master there, Angel’s safety should be without concern.
Angel stood at the entrance of the Hunting Museum, looking in the direction of the southern suburban woods, where he could only see vague shadows and the energy interweaving almost in a vortex pattern in the high sky.
Indeed, the fight had already broken out there.
Although Angel was somewhat worried, he knew that returning would likely be a death sentence. Since Fafnir had sent him to the Hunting Museum, and he had nowhere else to go at the moment, he simply turned and walked into the Hunting Museum.
Speaking of which, Angel had also planned to ask the Night Master about the remaining Fire Transmission Stone shards to see if they had arrived; as soon as he got his hands on them, he could leave Lassudral.
After entering the Hunting Museum, he was engulfed in the desolate silence, as if all the chaos of the outside world had vanished.
Passing through the cold hall, Angel did not see the Night Master.
Only when he arrived at the Exhibition Hall did he see the figure of Night standing in front of Feng’s painting, silently staring at the flames in the painting, lost in thought.
Angel did not get too close, just stood at a distance behind Night.
While waiting for Night to snap back to reality, Angel also began to examine the painting that shared the master’s name. When Angel’s gaze rested on the painting, his pupils contracted slightly.
Night had once said that when the flames in the painting completely consumed the night, the constraints bound to it would finally disappear.
At this moment, the proportion between the flames and the night in the painting had been completely reversed. Previously, the painting’s flames were but a mere line, with the majority being the dense night. But now, the night had been pushed to a corner, only remaining two tenths of the painting, while the rest was engulfed in roaring flames.
Looking at this vastly changed scene, Angel’s eyes became distant.
Was Night about to take that step?
For Night, it was the path of becoming a lord. If it had been in the Wizards’ Realm, this step would be what wizards like Monty, Rhein, and even Florenza longed for and pursued.
Previously, when Angel heard the Night Master talk about it, he treated it just like a story, without a real sense of involvement. But now, witnessing the painting’s gradual transmutation, he began to vaguely sense that he was about to witness the birth of a transcendent being.
During his reverie, Night, who had been silently observing the painting, finally made a move.
Night turned around to look at Angel and softly said, “You’re here.”
“I’m here,” Angel replied subconsciously.
Night nodded. Only then did Angel step forward to stand beside the Night Master in front of the painting. Perhaps it was an illusion, but as Angel approached, he seemed to feel an intense heat. As if the fire within the painting were real, about to break through the two-dimensional world and spread into reality.
“Night Master, the night in the painting is almost gone.”
“I have said that the night always exists and will never fade away.”
Angel: “Then when will the great fire completely cover this night?”
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“Just a bit shy of the right heat,” Night spoke softly, “but it won’t take much longer.”
As for what that final bit of heat was, Night didn’t say; instead, he turned to ask Angel about his purpose for coming.
“I was thrown here by Lord Fafnir…” Angel roughly recounted what had happened in the store earlier, sighing with misfortune, “…I came here also to inquire whether the pieces of the Fire Transmission Stone have been collected?”
“The pieces of the Fire Transmission Stone will still need one more day, however, I have already forged the White Ash Fire Solvent with the ghostly flames of hell,” Night said as he tossed a bottle to Angel.
This was a very delicate red sparrow-beaked bottle, adorned with strange totems, nothing like the style of the Abyss.
The body of the bottle was slightly warm, and with a gentle shake, one could hear the sound of liquid sloshing inside, accompanied by the crackling sound of flames burning.
Angel uncorked the bottle and looked inside, only to be surprised. In spite of the bottle’s small size, the space within seemed to have been expanded in some way; the tiny bottle contained nearly a vat’s worth of White Ash Fire Solvent, its magma-like bright red hue bringing an intense wave of high temperature.
“Since it’s rare for me to forge, I made a bit extra. These fire solvents, I’ve heard from Feng, can endow abyssal chaotic dark energy attributes to the items alchemists craft with them,” Night mentioned.