noveltune Chapter 309 Return to Backlund
Chapter 309 Return to Backlund
Chapter 309 Return to Backlund
Inside the cabin of the "Golden Dream," Sirion suddenly opened his eyes and sat up in bed.
On the desk against the wall opposite him, letters containing knowledge of the "mysterious reappearance" floated in mid-air, surrounded by starlight. The bloodshot eye in the crystal ball was reading the contents of the letters without blinking.
"Should we interrupt it? I have a feeling it might suddenly die if it keeps watching like this."
As soon as he finished speaking, half of the letter, which was floating in mid-air surrounded by starlight, fell back onto the table.
"6
""
After a moment of silence, Sirion decided to ignore the studious crystal ball.
He then took out a sheet of paper from his open briefcase, depicting a ritual of sacrifice and bestowal. Using his imagination, he materialized the ritual and whispered, "Fool not of this age, mysterious ruler above the gray fog, king of yellow and black who holds good fortune."
"Your faithful followers pray to you;
We implore you to open the gates of your kingdom;
I pray that you will bestow your blessings.
Ugh~
A sudden gust of wind swept through the room, swirling the ritual materials on the floor and throwing them into the candlelight, causing the flames, already tinged with gray, to expand rapidly.
A dark blue, illusory door emerged from the flickering, expanding flames, creaking and cracking open with a gap wide enough for one person to pass through.
Then a playing card the size of a poker card flew out from behind the "door," made a turn in the air, and landed in Cyril's hand.
After receiving the cards, he snapped his fingers, causing the imagined ritual to disappear and ending the prayer for blessings.
Without the influence of the natural forces caused by the ritual, the light and temperature in the room instantly returned to normal.
He then removed the spiritual wall that had been set up in the room, rummaged through his suitcase for his painting tools, sat by the window, and recalled the images that "The Sun" Derrick had shown him at the tarot meeting. He then made some modifications to them and painted them.
The Forsaken Land, inside the half-collapsed temple belonging to the "True Creator".
Derrick stood before the mural depicting Urelius, the "Angel of Fates," lost in thought:
...According to the hints from Mr. Fate and Mr. Fool, this mural should be the key to breaking the "cycle of fate".
After carefully examining the mural before him, he turned to look at Colin, the chief "Demon Hunter" of Silver City, who was standing not far behind him, and said in a low voice, "Your Excellency, the silver-haired angel in the mural looks very similar to the face on the chest of that little boy."
"The Demon Hunter" Colin was taken aback at first, then frowned.
He glanced at the little boy Jack, who was standing quietly in the corner, and then looked at the mural next to Derrick, looking thoughtful.
"Perhaps we have already stepped into a river from which there is no way out, a river whose beginning and end are connected."
"Fortunately, this should only be some power left behind by that angel of fate; He Himself is not here."
Derrick's face showed surprise and shock. He had only uttered one sentence he had prepared when Chief Colin had already roughly deduced their current situation.
...As expected of the "Chief" esteemed.
The only mistake is, not perhaps, that we've already fallen into a cycle.
Perhaps the chief already knew about the "Angel of Fate" Urelius before coming here, but we didn't notice the face on the little boy's chest in the previous loops and didn't connect it with the "Angel of Fate" in the mural.
As his thoughts drifted, Colin took a small, dark red metal tube from his belt, unscrewed the cap, and gulped down the liquid inside.
His originally light blue eyes quickly faded, turning silvery.
In the end, his eyes even turned into vertical pupils resembling those of a snake, reflecting the figure of the little boy Jack in the corner.
Tiny sparks of silver light burst forth from his eyes, sometimes hovering, sometimes colliding, with an exceptionally intense clang!
"The Demon Hunter" Colin planted the straight sword in his hand into the ground, then drew another straight sword from behind him and coated it with a golden, sun-like grease.
hum~
The blades of both straight swords vibrated simultaneously, emitting a clear humming sound.
Throughout the underground hall, golden and silver light shone brightly, forcing Derrick, who had been watching the chief's movements, to close his eyes.
He vaguely heard a short scream, then the blinding light disappeared, and everything returned to darkness.
After feeling that everything was alright, he opened his eyes again and saw "Chief" Colin kneeling on the ground with his two swords hanging diagonally.
On the ground in front of him, the human face that had originally been on the chest of the little boy Jack fell to the ground in pieces, reverting to scattered eyes, nose and mouth.
These organs twitched a few times and then rotted at a visible speed until they turned into a pool of black, rotten flesh.
At the same time, Derrick felt as if an invisible, water-wall-like barrier appeared around him, and then silently shattered.
He let out a long sigh of relief, as if he had left a rushing river and returned to the shore.
Phew, it's finally over.
Praise be to you, esteemed Mr. Fool, and thank you also, Mr. Fate.
Derrick silently recited several times the verses he usually used when praying to "the Creator of all things, the all-knowing and all-powerful God," except that he changed the object of his praise to Mr. "Fool."
He then turned his head to look at the other members of the exploration team in the underground hall and found that they did not have any abnormal reaction. They were still carefully checking their surroundings, as if the previous explorations had never happened.
Even if one escapes the "cycle of fate," is it impossible to directly recover previous memories?
Perhaps only when they return to Silver City will they realize the discrepancy in the dates and discover this lost chapter of their lives.
In the captain's cabin of the "Golden Dream," Cyril saw the demon's corpse, dismembered into pieces, or even slices, on the long table.
His brow twitched involuntarily, then he looked at Edwina, who was holding a scalpel and wearing a white coat, and asked curiously, "You have experience in surgery?"
Edwina nodded slightly: "I have studied this subject, but I don't have much practical experience, especially with extraordinary creatures like demons. This is my first time dissecting one."
The corpse of "this demon" has given me quite a bit of knowledge. Once I organize this information, I might be able to create some entirely new secret techniques.
After a slight pause, she pointed to the head that was placed aside, which had many scratches but was still intact, and said, "I have made a copy of the pattern on the devil horns of this head. You can take it now."
"Okay." Cyril nodded, then asked, "Could I have a copy of the knowledge you've compiled? I'm also curious."
Edwina glanced at him with some surprise, then nodded happily: "Of course."
"Leave a valid contact method, and I will have someone send you the compiled knowledge booklet later."
O
Cyril smiled and nodded: "Remember to indicate the price in the booklet, and I will pay for it."
"Another question: if I want to publish a picture book, do you have any newspapers or publishing houses you would recommend?"
Because of their authority, most newspapers, publishing houses, and distributors in the world are associated with the Church of the "God of Knowledge and Wisdom," or were even founded by them.
That's why he thought of contacting Edwina; having an insider's recommendation would definitely be much more convenient than submitting his work himself.
"A sketchbook? What kind?"
Edwina asked with some surprise, then explained, "This falls under the category of magazines. I'm more familiar with newspapers and publishing houses that mainly publish papers and journals."
"If you know the specific type of picture book, I might be able to give you some advice."
Cyril was not surprised and handed over a stack of drawings that he had just finished not long ago.
Edwina took it and glanced at it briefly, her delicate eyebrows furrowing slightly. Then she looked at it carefully again, her expression gradually changing from serious to thoughtful.
After a moment, she looked away from Cyril and said seriously, "There's nothing wrong with either the painting technique or the content."
"But I'm a little curious, are all the things you've drawn real, or things that actually happened?"
"In the city ruins in the background, I saw some styles belonging to the Tertiary period, as well as the clothing of those people, which are very different from the mainstream aesthetics of the North and South continents today."
"And there's that half-collapsed temple that you didn't fully show in the painting; it's in the style of the early Quaternary period."
"No wonder you were once a 'polymath'," Sirion exclaimed with some surprise.
"The content in the painting did actually happen. I made some deletions and modifications to ensure that there is no content that cannot be included."
Edwina nodded slightly, not pursuing the topic further, and instead said, "If you can trust me, you can leave these manuscripts here, and I should be able to help you contact a good publishing house."
"Of course, this is just initial contact; you'll need to discuss the follow-up arrangements yourselves."
"No problem." Sirion nodded immediately.
He then consulted Edwina about some occult knowledge related to magic.
As an extraordinary being who has gone through the "Erudite" stage, Edwina's knowledge of magic below the level of demigod is comprehensive, covering almost all 22 extraordinary pathways.
Perhaps because she had spent too much time teaching a group of semi-literate students on the "Golden Dream," Edwina was exceptionally enthusiastic when faced with the humbly seeking knowledge from Cyril, and even broke down the process of creating her secret technique to explain it.
"According to my understanding, if I can fully comprehend a spell, theoretically I can reproduce that extraordinary ability infinitely without being limited by the ability itself."
Edwina shook her head, then nodded: "Theoretically, that's true, but this can no longer be considered a reproduction of extraordinary abilities; it's simply casting a spell."
O
"However, judging from your description, your extraordinary pathway to cell activation gives you an additional advantage in spellcasting."
"If I could study cell activation, I might be able to develop a secret technique to enhance my spellcasting abilities."
66
'
After a two-second silence, Cyril said, "If I have the opportunity to hunt down Aurora Travelers or Arcane Masters, I will collect some of their flesh and blood for you to study."
Edwina nodded with a strange expression, and after exchanging a few more words, Cyril said goodbye and left the captain's cabin.
He then saw a group of first mates, second mates, third mates, and boatswain in the corridor outside. They looked very busy, but he didn't know what they were busy with.
After glancing at the guys who had been squatting outside for who knows how long, Cyril walked right past them and headed straight for the ship's mess hall.
The next morning, the salty, damp sea breeze, carrying a hint of chill, blew against my face, instantly dispelling any lingering sleepiness.
As Sirion leaned against the ship's railing, watching the golden-red hue gradually rise from the sea, his thoughts drifted away.
Behind him, a group of pirates, shivering in the cold wind, were being forced to attend an early morning class.
Cyril had previously asked why they had to have morning classes on the deck, and Edwina's answer was that this was the only way to keep them alert during class.
Perhaps it was the way he was leisurely watching the sunrise that attracted so much hatred, because he could feel resentful gazes falling on him from behind from time to time.
The morning classes on the "Golden Dream" finally ended only after the sun had fully risen and the temperature had increased.
As the pirates dispersed in twos and threes, Cyril stepped forward to bid farewell to Edwina.
He then picked up the carry-on suitcase that had been placed aside and slowly walked toward the ship's railing under the patient yet expectant gazes of the pirates behind him.
His eyes reflected a phantom book that was slowly turning its pages.
With each step, glittering starlight appeared from the void, rapidly weaving in the still chilly air to outline an illusory door.
South of Backlund Bridge, at Irving's home.
Countless tiny starlight flew out from the void, quickly weaving together to form an illusory door, from which Cyril emerged.
As soon as he appeared, Lawrence and Irving looked over.
"Weren't you playing the role of a 'recorder' at sea? Why are you suddenly back in Backlund?"
"Just taking care of some things," Cyril replied casually, then glanced around before asking, "Where's Tobias?"
As soon as the words were spoken, heavy footsteps came from the stairwell behind the living room, accompanied by a low, husky voice, still drowsy: "Looking for me? Did you obtain the extraordinary characteristic of the 'Hunter' pathway?"
Cyril turned to look towards the stairwell, where the sound of footsteps grew closer, and then Tobias came out.
He was wearing a loose-fitting nightgown, revealing his chest covered in old scars, and his eyes were squinted, looking like he hadn't woken up yet.
Cyril rubbed his fingers together, creating a chilling breeze in the living room.
hiss~
Tobias was completely unaffected, but Owen and Lawrence, who were in the restaurant, were startled by the sudden chill.
Somewhat awkwardly, he withdrew his hand, letting the chill in the room dissipate, and looked at Tobias, saying, "I guess you haven't yet gathered the extraordinary materials the arsonist needs."
As he spoke, he took out a square iron box from the suitcase he was carrying.
>