"Milafir. Feng?" Angel repeated the name, then looked at the man in the cloak with a face full of surprise, "Are you the Magic Painter, sir?"
"You seem surprised?" Feng raised an eyebrow.
Angel shook his head, "No... I just didn’t expect the Magic Painter, sir, to look so young."
After speaking, Angel reached out and pointed into the air, making an aged oil painting appear in front of Feng. The painting depicted a rather benevolent-looking old man, smiling with a large barrel of rolled-up canvases on his back, holding a paintbrush stained with blue and gold paint.
"This is the portrait of Mr. Feng I saw in one issue of the Plane Conquest Record."
Feng gazed at the old man in the painting with interest, a nostalgic look in his eyes, and after a long pause, he spoke, "Truly nostalgic... It is indeed me in the painting. I once walked among the Painters’ Guilds of various countries and even served as the president of the Guild for about fifty years. To avoid trouble, I used this face for a time."
The Painters’ Guild was an organization established by mortals. Feng mingled in a mortal organization for fifty years. If he had kept his youthful appearance unchanged, it would surely have caused a huge stir, hence the use of this face.
Feng hadn’t expected that the face he used for such a short time would eventually be recorded in the Plane Conquest Record.
While Feng spoke, Angel’s thoughts were also racing.
Is the person in front of him really Feng? From various signs, it seemed possible, the most important being that he had no reason to deceive him.
However, Feng’s appearance here was somewhat unreasonable.
Moreover, previously, he had asked Angel, "Are you the one who came following his footsteps?" The ’he’ in the words undoubtedly referred to Milafir. Feng, but when he asked, it didn’t sound like he was talking about himself, rather about someone else.
Because of this, Angel was still unable to fully determine the identity of the person in front of him.
Feng seemed to have seen the doubt in Angel’s eyes and said slowly, "I am indeed Milafir. Feng, but I am also somewhat different from what you might think."
"I am a wisp of consciousness sketched out by Feng with a paintbrush, sealed here until you used the Augusta Pattern Secret Key to reactivate this painting, only then could I see the light again."
In other words, he is Feng, but somewhat different from the real Feng. He is a phantom shadow drawn by Feng, yet within this shadow exists Feng’s personal consciousness.
Endowing a person in a painting with personal consciousness? Angel had never heard of such an ability; he previously thought the figure before him was an avatar, not expecting it to be just a wisp of consciousness.
After explaining his origins, Feng continued, "Feng left me here waiting for your arrival."
"Waiting for my arrival? So, are you the treasure Mr. Feng left behind?"
Feng said with a smile, "If I say yes, would you be disappointed?"
Angel didn’t comment because he wasn’t so much looking forward to the so-called treasure; he just wanted to see whether the set-up by Feng would indeed reach its conclusion and in what form it would end.
"If you possess all the memories and personal experiences of the Magic Painter Wizard, it wouldn’t be a loss."
Feng: "If you sought to learn all of Feng’s knowledge from me, it’s regrettable that the real body didn’t leave much related information. Moreover, my existence continually consumes personal consciousness, and in a short time, I will disappear."
Angel: "Then what is the significance of your presence?"
"The significance of my presence, as I said before, is to await your arrival," Feng didn’t stop there this time but continued, "I’m not the treasure left by Feng. My existence is to dispel your doubts. I believe you have many questions now."
Angel looked at Feng cloaked opposite, saying softly, "Indeed, I have many questions now."
Feng gazed into Angel’s eyes, seemingly reading another layer: "And anger?"
Angel didn’t answer, but indeed there was an emotion of anger in his inner heart.
He was angry at why he had become a pawn manipulated within a game.
But against an existence of Feng’s level, any emotion was meaningless, so he restrained himself and did not show it, yet did not expect Feng to point it out himself.
"Come, let’s sit and talk. I will answer the questions you want to know," Feng said, and with a gentle wave of his hand, the starry sky overhead fell a beam of starlight, constructing a table and chairs emitting a cold light under a big tree.
The two sat across from each other.
After sitting down, Angel was the first to speak, but he didn’t ask any question, just customarily introduced himself.
"Angel, is it? Since you come from the Barbarian Cave, have you heard if the Book Elder ever mentioned me?"
Angel gave Feng a puzzled look; he didn’t expect Feng to think of the Book Elder when mentioning the Barbarian Cave... At least in Angel’s impression, if other organization wizards mentioned the Barbarian Cave, they would either think of Rhein or the Tree Spirit. Mirror Lady was only famous among witches, while the Book Elder, although well-known, rarely appeared and seemed more a legend in the Wizards’ Realm.
"The Book Elder seldom appears; since entering the Barbarian Cave, I’ve only met the Book Elder once during my apprenticeship," Angel didn’t shy away, simply recounting the meeting with the Book Elder.
After listening to Angel’s narration, Feng was stunned for a moment, then suddenly burst into laughter.
It took a while for him to stop laughing, "The Book Elder actively answered your question, and you only asked one: how to discover spiritual power? You must know, when Feng... my true self, went to see the Book Elder, he spent hundreds of years but couldn’t get the Book Elder to speak. If my true self knew you wasted the opportunity like this, he might imprison you in the Burning Painting Cage and burn you for decades before speaking further."
Facing Feng’s regret about his lack of questioning qualifications, Angel was not too concerned: "At that time, I hadn’t even advanced past being an Apprentice. What kind of meaningful question could I have asked?"
Feng: "That’s true. You can only say you met Book Elder at the wrong time."
After expressing his sentiment, Feng didn’t mention Book Elder anymore, but returned to the main topic: "Before answering your doubts, I have a question. I hope you can clear it up for me first."
Angel naturally didn’t dare to refuse: "Please ask."
"Has the Demon God’s catastrophe been stopped?" Feng collected his playful attitude, his expression unprecedentedly serious.
Angel, affected by Feng, replied with a bit more solemnity: "If Mr. Feng is talking about the Lord of the Flameless, then he should have no chance of descending upon the Southern Domain Wizard World."
After Angel’s confirmation, Feng was stunned for a moment, then he let out a long breath, as if all the pent-up depression he had kept in his heart for years was released at this moment.
Then, Feng replaced his serious expression with a familiar smile: "I wonder if you mind telling me how you stopped the Demon God’s catastrophe?"
Angel: "... I do mind."
Feng’s expression froze for a few seconds before he slowly unsealed: "Alright, if you don’t want to talk about it now, it’s fine. I hope you’ll reconsider after you understand my painstaking effort."
Feng didn’t press Angel but shifted the topic: "I’ve finished my question, now it’s your turn. Whatever questions you have, as long as I know, I will tell you completely."
Angel remained silent for a moment and decided to start from the initial doubt: "What is fate?"