"Quite a lively forest tonight," the red-haired man muttered, looking into the distance. He walked to Little Sam’s side, squatting down, glancing at his leg, "Hey, young friend. You look quite bad, your ankle is swollen."
"Tell you what, answer this uncle one question, and this uncle will help you heal?"
Without waiting for Little Sam to agree, the red-haired man directly asked, "This should be the Revelation Continent, right?"
Little Sam hadn’t yet gathered his thoughts and subconsciously nodded.
"Fortunately, there’s not much deviation." The red-haired man’s eyes brightened even more: "Do you know how far we are from the Central Empire? Or is this the Central Empire?"
...
Little Sam felt as though he had just experienced a dream.
He was clearly in a dire situation, even despairing over the cruelty of fate, yet he hadn’t expected such a dramatic reversal at the last moment.
No, calling it dramatic is too mild; it should be a magical transformation.
Sam thought this because he was now in an extremely magical scene—
Above him was a dazzling starry sky, around him were thin clouds, and beneath his feet was a Flying Boat navigating the skies.
When Sam was very young and still a member of the nobility, he had ridden in exquisite carriages and herded legendary giant eagles that could be ridden when grown, but he had never imagined that a small boat drifting in the river would one day fly up to the sky.
Moreover, this small boat called Gondola was as beautiful as a work of art from a fairy tale.
The creator of this fairytale illusion was the red-haired man he had met earlier. It was also because of him that Sam managed to escape from a desperate crisis.
However, this method of escape made Sam feel as though it was a dream.
"Young one, let me verify once more, you really know the direction to Saint Sem City in the Central Empire? Lying is not good; your nose will grow." The red-haired man looked at Sam with suspicion, mainly because Sam seemed so young, barely twelve or thirteen, a child of that age likely hadn’t left the local town, so how could he know where the main country is?
"I’m not lying, I really know because I... I used to live in Saint Sem City." Sam said, somewhat apprehensively touching his nose, thinking: Why would he say lying leads to a long nose? Could it be, like the spell in a fairy tale, he placed a curse on me?
"Oh?" The red-haired man looked deeply into Sam’s eyes, then nodded after a moment: "You’re telling the truth."
"Since you do truly know where Saint Sem City is, and are willing to lead me there, then the deal is made." The red-haired man said and then extended a finger towards Sam’s ankle, suspended it slightly in the air.
Sam immediately felt his swollen and painful ankle suddenly cool, and in no time, all the pain vanished.
He couldn’t help but twist his ankle, finding it was really restored to normal!
A flying boat, a simple gesture to heal an ankle... Without a doubt, he was definitely one of the legendary Transcendents. Thinking of this, Sam dared not lie again, for fear that his nose would grow!
"Healing your ankle is the reward for you answering my question. As for guiding me to Saint Sem City, you’ll receive the silver coin once we arrive." The red-haired man paused before continuing: "Since we are on the same boat now, aren’t you planning to introduce yourself?"
Not daring to lie, Sam quietly said: "My name is Ego Sam Lurendale, but I like being called Sam."
The red-haired man listened to Sam’s answer, and a subtle light flickered in his eyes momentarily.
Three-part names are not uncommon, but for a slave, it’s rare. The red-haired man easily noticed the slave mark on Sam’s back, confirming early on that he was indeed a slave, perhaps even an escaped one.
A slave having a three-part name suggests he wasn’t born into slavery but became one due to circumstances.
What intrigued him most was how the boy self-identified with his middle name. Typically, a middle name is from the maternal side or self-given, often omitted in formal situations. Therefore, Sam valuing his middle name so much was significant.
"Sam, is it, once lived in Saint Sem City. Could you have some connection with Saint Sem?"
"No connection." Sam lowered his head, not letting the other glimpse the sorrow in his eyes.
"It seems there really is a connection." The red-haired man, ignoring Sam’s answer, pondered with a hand on his chin: "So, is Saint Sem’s family your mother’s family?"
Sam: "..."
Red-haired man: "Okay, unwilling to answer, that’s fine. Since you’ve introduced yourself, let me introduce myself."
"My name is Anger Pat, you can call me Mr. Pat."
Half an hour ago, Angel was around the Barbarian Cave. Now, appearing on the distant Revelation Continent, he was naturally preparing to search for Frode.
However, Angel’s application of the Plane Corridor was clearly still in its infancy. Although he successfully opened the passage, his positioned Spatial Beacon ended up slightly off.
He still crossed the abyssal sea to reach the Revelation Continent, albeit veering over a thousand kilometers from the Central Empire, landing in the Silver Monarchy.
Being someone who never remembers routes, Angel momentarily had no idea where Saint Sem City was and fortunately came across the injured Sam, preventing him from having to inquire directions among the Wilderness of Dreams... which would have been embarrassing.
Angel felt a good impression towards Sam, who spared his dignity.
"By the way, does my taking you away from the Silver Monarchy to Saint Sem City cause you any trouble? If it does, once I reach the destination, I can have someone send you back."
Angel could see that when mentioning Saint Sem City, there was more sorrow than anticipation in Sam’s eyes, more rejection than yearning. Likely, Sam didn’t truly wish to go to Saint Sem City.
Thinking of how Sam once lived in Saint Sem City and was perhaps a noble fallen into slavery, there were probably many twists and turns in his story.
Though Angel didn’t care for the tales, he didn’t mind offering a bit of help, like someone returning him to the Silver Monarchy.
Upon hearing about being sent back to the Silver Monarchy, Sam raised his head and shook it vigorously: "No, I don’t want to go back."
"Then you won’t go back."
Sam was a bit surprised at how quickly the other agreed: "Aren’t you curious about why I don’t want to go back?"
"Not really, though there’s time before night fades. If you want to share, I wouldn’t mind being a listener." Angel casually remarked.
Sam hesitated for a moment, unsure of Mr. Pat’s intentions, yet worried about the curse of lying, finally deciding to explain what had happened earlier.
"Oh? So you killed the farm owner, and they’re hunting you. No wonder the deep forest is so lively at night." Angel showed a look of sudden understanding.
"The issue isn’t the liveliness; it’s that I killed someone..." Sam murmured softly.
"Hmm, from your perspective, it is indeed a big deal." Angel: "Why did you kill him?"
A flash of hatred appeared in Sam’s eyes: "I didn’t intend to kill him; he wanted to kill me first, intending to make me a sacrifice. I accidentally killed him."
"A sacrificial offering, sounds like a primitive ritual?" Angel murmured: "Whom did he plan to offer to?"
Sam: "I don’t know, I only know the sacrifice may not be just me, and the farm owner isn’t the only one involved, there may be those nobility."
Angel hearing this, did not make overt statements but pondered internally: "A collective sacrificial event... could it be a primitive tribe from Feran Continent? If so, then probably it’s someone from the Otherworld seeking to deepen ties with the Wizards’ Realm through sacrifice."
"This matter could be significant, maybe I should let Frode notify Neya of Hurricane Tower at the Royal in the Central Empire."