"I only wanted her to see these vibrant scenes more often."
"Every birth of a new thing carries a wonderful melody. Just like this gradually perfecting city, just sitting here and quietly watching it, I can feel that kind of joyful rhythm. It’s as if the soul of this city is singing for its own birth."
"These melodies may, for Maya Witch, become a channel to relieve her pressure. So, I suggested she come here often to see the construction of this city, to feel this gradually perfecting... world."
Ironclad Granny spoke with great emotion. Angel roughly understood the significance, but if he truly observed himself, even if he had some insights, he wouldn’t be able to express them this way.
"Back to you then," Ironclad Granny lamented and looked at Angel: "From your expression, you don’t seem anxious. Your actions are neither hurried nor slow, and you even have the leisure to listen to the Maya Witch matter. So, you probably didn’t face any major issues in the ruins. Does that mean you’re here to tell me about your adventure in the ruins?"
Returning to the main topic, Angel’s expression became serious: "If Granny wants to hear a story, it might have to wait a bit longer. We are probably still at the beginning of this story."
"The beginning? Then your exploration isn’t progressing very quickly." Ironclad Granny took a sip of tea and teased, "What, are you stuck on a riddle and ready to ask for help outside?"
Angel nodded sheepishly: "Although it’s not a riddle, I am indeed here to seek Granny’s help."
"Tell me about it."
Angel: "I just want Granny to help me identify an item."
Angel briefly described his experience in the Underground Aqueduct and then used an Illusion to simulate the four silver metal objects with the Iguro family crest that he collected in the Underground Aqueduct.
Soon after, right in front of Ironclad Granny, he assembled them into a whole, then added a wooden stick below, transforming it into an exquisite and elegant cane.
"This is it."
Ironclad Granny examined it closely: "The carvings on it are indeed the Mongon Clan’s family emblem. Is this your mentor’s cane?"
Angel smiled wryly: "I don’t know if it is. Actually, my purpose here is to ask Granny if she has ever seen my mentor use this cane?"
Ironclad Granny gently shook her head: "This cane should be one Sanders used while he was still an apprentice. At that time, I didn’t pay much attention to him, so I’m not really familiar with it. However, you can find Kanter and have him relay a message to Sanders."
Angel smiled wryly: "I was planning to seek out Lord Kanter, but he wasn’t online. I don’t want to disturb Lord Nami Midori either. Besides, my mentor hasn’t been online for a long time, presumably busy with matters in the Tidal World. To bother him over such a small thing feels a bit like making a mountain out of a molehill."
"That’s true, this isn’t really a big deal," Ironclad Granny contemplated for a moment: "Since you’re worried about bothering Sanders, let me find someone else to help you recognize it."
Having said that, Ironclad Granny took out the Mother Tree Interlinker, connected with someone unknown, and quickly placed the Interlinker down.
"Please wait for a moment, he’s nearby and should be here soon."
While Angel was still guessing who "he" was, a familiar figure appeared in front of him.
"Good Butler?!"
The newcomer was none other than the familiar-looking, masked housekeeper of Illusion Demon Island, Good.
"It’s a pleasure to see Young Master Pat here. Hebdon often talks about you; if he were here, he’d surely be more excited than I am."
Angel: "Hebdon often thinks about me? I guess he’s thinking not of me, but of the ’Peter Pan’ story’s Shadow Box..."
The voice of Good Butler carried a hint of laughter: "Young Master Pat truly understands Hebdon well."
Angel sighed, choosing not to respond further. Such tales could wait for leisure chats; for now, it was time to return to the main topic.
Ironclad Granny: "Good has been following Sanders for a long time and has helped Sanders handle the Mongon Clan’s matters. You can ask Good regarding your question."
Good Butler stood dutifully without asking questions, quietly waiting for Angel to speak.
Angel tapped his fingertip lightly on the table surface; a delicate cane appeared in front of Good Butler.
"Good Butler, have you ever seen my mentor use this kind of cane?"
Good Butler examined it carefully, seemingly recalling something, and after a moment of thought, said: "I remember a long time ago, I went with Lord to handle some matters for the Mongon Clan. Later, in the Mongon Clan’s castle basement, we discovered a newly-built gallery with oil paintings of the Mongon Clan’s past leaders."
"Inside was an only painting not of a clan leader but of the Lord, and it was placed in the most conspicuous position."
Without needing explanation, it was clear Sanders is a Transcendent, naturally revered. Just like the Mongon Clan venerates Moro as a deity.
"The Lord in the painting appeared youthful, wearing a starry moon wizard robe, wielding a beautifully crafted cane, as if casting a spell. The expression was passionate, as if a youth was fighting a dragon, roaring in defiance."
"This image was conceived by a painter of the Mongon Clan. Young Master should know ordinary people always fantasize weirdly about the Transcendent world."
When Good Butler mentioned this, the corners of his mouth beneath the mask involuntarily lifted. Yet, good manners kept his voice steady.
In reality, Good Butler’s subtle behavior could likely go unnoticed, but in the Wilderness of Dreams, both Angel and the perceptive Ironclad Granny could detect his change in mood.
Indeed, it was quite amusing.
Just by imagining, Angel could picture the expression Sanders would have upon seeing the oil painting.
Undoubtedly, a blackened face.
Good Butler paused, collected himself, and continued: "And the cane the Lord holds in the painting is the very cane before us."
Angel: "So this cane exists for real? And it’s my mentor’s?"
Good Butler shook his head: "I don’t know. I haven’t asked Lord about this issue. It’s conceivable the painter imagined the casting scene, but imagining a cane with an explicit family emblem seems unlikely. Thus, it’s likely this cane exists, but whether it’s the Lord’s, I don’t know."
Good Butler’s words were cautious, but Angel felt there was no mistake. This cane must likely be Sanders’.
"Alright, I understand now. Thank you for your trouble, Good Butler."
Good Butler bowed: "Serving Young Master is my honor."
After speaking, Good Butler prepared to leave.
At this moment, Angel called out to him: "By the way, is that painting still with the Mongon Clan?"
Good Butler thought for a moment and replied: "It should still be there?"
The mentor didn’t tear it down? It’s still there?
Angel pondered for a bit, speaking cautiously: "Does the mentor... really like that painting?"
Good Butler shook his head: "Probably not. At that time, the Lord wanted to burn it. But ultimately, he didn’t."
Angel: "Why?"
Good Butler: "Because it’s not only one painting. The youthful wizard fighting the dragon is part of a series. The underground gallery only houses one, while other series are stored by different branches of the Mongon Clan."
"Oh, and it’s not just the paintings. At the top of the castle hill of the Mongon Clan is a sculpture based on this painting, said to be erected at the highest point to showcase the Mongon Clan’s heritage."
"Because there are so many, completely clearing them would be too time-consuming, so the Lord didn’t choose to destroy them." Good Butler paused: "But since that day, the Lord hasn’t returned to the Mongon Clan... maybe to avoid seeing all those paintings and sculptures."
After finishing, Good Butler withdrew.
Angel remained, silently for a while. He somewhat understood why Sanders avoided returning to the Mongon Clan; returning would mean facing a display of a youthful version of himself and even becoming a public sculpture — practically a social death.
"An interesting story," Ironclad Granny remarked with a soft laugh.
Angel: "Sadly, it’s a story that can’t be casually shared."
Ironclad Granny: "It’s good you understand. When Sanders comes online, do you want me to inform him about the cane?"
Angel shook his head: "No, I feel informing the mentor won’t lead to anything good."
"Now that I understand the general situation about the cane, I’ll go offline for now." He waved farewell to Ironclad Granny.
"Go ahead. I’ll be here, always waiting for your stories."
Filled with gratitude, Angel’s form slowly faded away.
Ironclad Granny took a sip of floral tea, enjoying her leisure with closed eyes.
Moments later, she suddenly opened her eyes.
In her mind during her restful moment, a flash of inspiration made her recall something.
"I think Angel mentioned a name earlier... Cicia?"
"This name sounds familiar, where have I heard it before?"