Originally, Gucia had disappeared because he felt someone calling him, which had seemed similar to Angel’s own situation.
But upon reflection, Angel realized there was a difference.
After hearing the call, Gucia had hysterically rejected it, completely opposite to Angel’s reaction.
Despite this, Angel remained cautious. After all, he knew how to deceive the senses and perception himself. Perhaps this sense of kinship was nothing but a carefully crafted illusion.
“There seems to be a shadow up ahead?” pointed Popota at something in the distance.
Angel looked up into the distance where only rain and mist obscured the view, but between the shades, there indeed stood a not very tall yet seemingly sturdy silhouette that was motionless.
This was a wasteland, and all along their journey, they had not even seen a large stone. The sudden appearance of a shadow was quite abrupt.
The figure stood still, so they approached with both caution and care.
Only upon getting closer did they realize that the shadow was not a living creature but a withered tree.
Standalone amid the wilderness, bathing alone in the curtain of rain.
“I thought there’d be no plants on this continent, but it turns out there’s still a tree. Withered though it may be, at least it signifies that there used to be vegetation here,” mused Popota, walking towards the tree.
Angel intended to follow but was stopped by Greerwu.
By then, Popota had reached the proximity of the tree and after circling it a few times, realized that Angel and the others hadn’t followed.
He walked back, and when Popota stood before Greerwu, confusion flickered in Greerwu’s eyes, who muttered softly, “That’s odd. I sensed something wrong with that tree, a lingering dangerous aura… How could you…?” be unharmed?
It was then that Angel understood why Greerwu had stopped him, probably sensing danger ahead, and had treated Popota as a scout.
Popota, however, paid no heed to Greerwu; they were not of the same species and held no affinity for each other.
Angel shook his head and walked towards the tree. Since Angel had gone ahead, Greerwu naturally followed.
As Greerwu arrived at the tree, he saw Angel take something down from the withered branches and hold it in his palm.
Out of curiosity, he leaned in, “What is this… a feather?”
In Angel’s palm lay a black feather, its down somewhat stiff, its color reminiscent of the profound void.
Popota also approached and upon seeing the feather in Angel’s hand, paused, “Where did you find this feather?”
Angel pointed to the withered branches.
With a confused expression, Popota said, “When I was here earlier, I examined it carefully and saw no feather.”
“Are you sure?” Angel looked at Popota.
With a confident tone, Popota insisted, “The tree isn’t tall. I looked very closely, and there was nothing.”
It was unlikely Popota would lie about such a matter. So, could it be that the feather had appeared only recently?
“When I walked over just now, the first thing I noticed was this feather, strikingly conspicuous.” Angel examined the feather in his hand, a flicker of confusion in his eyes: “Could it be that some creature has been nearby all along without our notice?”
This seemed to be the only answer that explained the current situation.
For a moment, the atmosphere fell silent.
Just then, a voice suddenly reached their ears:
“This is a gift from Kulangduo to you. Please accept it, Savior of the Continent of Yuantan.”