Chapter 306: A Thin Figure
The moonlight draped over Fisher’s path, as he quickly passed the tents and cooking gear blown about by the wind, arriving in front of the horses that were neighing restlessly in the night. The carriage behind had been completely toppled over. With all his strength, he righted the overturned carriage and entered its interior.
Emhart, cradled in his arms, sensed the outside had quieted down again. With a lingering fear, he squirmed out and floated in mid-air, frantically looking around and spoke up, “What just happened outside? It was so noisy. Wait, it’s over now, right?”
“Not yet. There’s still a cursed monster related to the Phoenix Race outside, preparing to kill. The disappearance of the Phoenix Race is closely tied to the Spirit Realm, and the Turan Family is also involved with them. I still don’t know what they want with the Frost Parasol Tree.”
As Fisher rummaged through the mess of items in the carriage, he said this to Emhart.
Hearing Fisher’s words, Emhart glanced at the still raging wind and snow outside and dared not say a word. He shrank back again, hiding in Fisher’s arms.
“I’m terrified. I’ll stay hidden so I won’t slow you down. Call me when you’re done. I know you wouldn’t want to lose your lovely book friend.”
Fisher didn’t respond to Sir Book’s words. He worked quickly, feeling the magical fluctuations in the carriage. Finally, beside a broken picture frame, he saw what he was looking for—a necklace made entirely of copper, with a shell-like structure at the bottom that could hold a photo.
On that structure, countless magic runes sparkled with faint black light, showcasing the profound skills of the mage who inscribed them.
Fisher gently pushed open the small shell, revealing an old, yellowing photograph inside.
In the photo, a small girl sitting in a wheelchair had a blank expression on her face. Dressed in a heavy classic princess gown from the Northern Region, her expression was anything but pleasant, as she pouted, holding a large book in her hands—its content unknown. However, the magician’s hat on her head, seemingly belonging to someone else, suggested that this was Valentina, being taught magic in her childhood.
Next to her wheelchair stood a tall, elderly man with a white beard, smiling kindly as he stroked his beard. Although this elder had the most typical Northern look, his aura made Fisher inevitably think of his own teacher, Heilson.
They were of the same generation, so there were many similarities.
The inner side of the shell was engraved with a small line of Northern text that resembled the magical markings outside but lacked any magical glow. It read, “Miss Valentina Turan’s sixth birthday, because of studying magic with me, she had a sad face.”
“Haldor Turan retained.”
Fisher pinched the necklace containing the eleven-ring high-circle magical runes and turned to look outside the carriage without a word.
“Moon Princess, the last Phoenix. I have waited for you for so many years, finally, finally.”
The howling cry of the curse behind Haldor sounded in an instant as he ran towards the shrine. Haldor could see nothing but felt the curse entity closing in behind him, its eyes fixed on the Moon Princess sword he held in his hand. Yet he remained calm, just releasing the aura of the sword and running.
From the moment the Turan Family sent Valentina out to seek the Frost Parasol Tree, Haldor had anticipated such a day.
It was merely because Valentina was the only one in the family capable of wielding the Moon Princess sword that the young girl had to bear such a heavy burden, challenging the unknown history of the Northern Region.
This could not be labeled anything but ironic and absurd, yet as a mere vassal, Haldor had no right to participate in decisions, nor the right to change Valentina’s fate.
All he could do was clear some obstacles from her path with his failing body.
Thinking of this, his mechanical arm holding the Moon Princess sword tightened its grip even more. In his vision, all he could see were deep red warnings and glowing alerts.
“Warning. Data loss warning. Data loss.”
He could feel his consciousness gradually drifting away from this body. The only reason he could continue to run and exert his last strength for Valentina was due to the soul burning fiercely within him.
“Zizi. Ha, I haven’t lost anything.”
The curse drew near, and as the cold, like wind and snow, enveloped him, deep black feathers began to erupt chaotically within his inorganic body, the parts grinding together with a torturous screech as if they hadn’t been lubricated for a long time.
He looked down at the fading Moon Princess sword in his hand. As steam poured from his mouth, the light of his soul suddenly burst forth, shining brightly, like the Death Ray that Feilon used, separating from him and splattering toward the curse entity behind.
The curse entity was struck by this sudden attack, its black body spinning in the air several times before retreating, enraged as it howled.
But this was not without cost.
The Death Ray was generated from the intense burning of Haldor’s soul. At this moment, the one in control of the mechanical body was the combined essence of Haldor’s soul and the Mechanism’s replicated consciousness. They jointly governed this body, hence why Fisher said, “You are the true Haldor.”
His memories, his consciousness, his persistence for Valentina remained unchanged, yet at this moment, it was gradually wearing away in the flames of the soul.
Just as Fisher summarized when the theory of the soul was first proposed, a person’s memories and consciousness were attached entirely to the soul. When the soul was consumed, did the energy released not represent the value of these ephemeral, immeasurable things in a certain sense?
“Zizi.”
Haldor’s steam spewed wildly, and unlike the white mist, it was filled with a searing heat. As the steam dissipated, everything regarding his past memories became increasingly blurred.
He suddenly couldn’t recall anything about his past experiences, what family he was born into, why he entered the Turan Family to learn magic, nor the names and appearances of his long-departed parents and relatives.
“Howl!”
The curse surged again from behind, and Haldor’s mechanical body was once more jolted, nearly being toppled over.
Not enough power!
A brilliant Death Ray erupted again from Haldor’s body, striking the curse’s form, causing numerous inky feathers to fall from the curse entity in the Spirit Realm. Upon closer inspection, those feathers were not black; they resembled blood piled together, with a richness that transformed from crimson to pitch black.
With the second soul Death Ray unleashed, Haldor abruptly lost the memory of his name, forgetting many people and friends he recognized, the magic knowledge he had loved and studied all his life, and the joys and sorrows of his existence.
It was as if the once colorful papers were miraculously fading back to pale, leaving only the purpose and direction of that paper.
He could only remember his persistence and dedication, remembered his beloved “granddaughter.”
“Howl!”
Was the power still not enough?
In the illusory wind and snow, Haldor’s pure thoughts were reduced to this thin notion, not knowing why the power was inadequate, nor the threat before him.
“Zizi.”
Even so, the soul within him subconsciously ignited again, wanting to unleash one final Death Ray.
What remained of this burning was only his last obsession.
But just as he was about to ignite it, a completely unfamiliar male human figure appeared in his line of sight—a man with black hair, holding a simple copper necklace that flickered with a faint light Haldor no longer understood.
Unfamiliar with magic and more, the man’s faceless appearance shifted slightly because of the slightly opened photo in the necklace. It depicted a little girl with a bad expression sitting in a wheelchair, beside which stood a kindly old man whom Haldor found familiar yet could not identify.
“Valentina.”
Fisher did not respond. His figure guarded Haldor’s soul, the most precious part, and the necklace in his hand erupted with a wave of deadly black light. The powerful magic reverberated, causing the world to respond in kind, building a terrifying force in Fisher’s grasp.
In the next moment, as that dreadful force reached the newly acquired ring in Fisher’s palm, inscribed with strange words, the ring seemingly activated a function that rendered Haldor’s inscribed magic into bizarre fluctuations that Fisher had never seen before.
“Bakuu! Warashi! Tutut!”
Fisher looked incredulously at the suddenly magnified and ominous eleven-ring magic [Erasure Light], utterly bewildered at what had transpired. But under the moonlight, the small eyes watching the drama seemed to sense some extreme horror, blinking in fright and screaming to flee from this realm, leaving Fisher with no further sensation.
Those Chaos Races feared?
But it was certainly not the [Erasure Light] in his hand they feared, but more likely the aura emanating from the ring he held?
“Howl!”
The [Erasure Light] had already taken form in Fisher’s hand, as the magical arm holding it felt as if it were being seared by an iron rod, causing intense pain. Yet he gritted his teeth and did not move, only staring fixedly at the approaching curse.
The surroundings quieted down all at once, only the furious curse entity hanging in the air remained, but even it seemed to sense the threat in Fisher’s hand, its baleful eyes turning toward him, the intense pressure of the Spirit Realm flowing forth.
That terrifying pressure, along with the curse, could easily crush many creatures existing in the snowy wind. The others present clearly could not endure such a long fighting against the curse, yet Fisher stood unwaveringly before it.
Fisher took a deep breath, suppressing the itch and pain on his body, pointing the [Erasure Light] at the curse that lunged toward him.
“Boom!”
A light so dark it was blinding exploded from Fisher’s palm, surging forward in an instant. That black light acted like a “world eraser,” passing through that darkness, the air, the wind and snow, the curse, all the way to the clouds above disappeared in an instant.
The sudden vacuum created a violent explosion, and it was the first time Fisher saw the [Erasure Light] with such tremendous power. A powerful pressure followed swiftly after, crushing the entire realm, swirling giant wind and snow like mountains.
“Boom! Boom!”
This spectacular scene resonated far and wide, appearing to outsiders as the legendary Frost Phoenix descending, causing the many employees of the Turan Family, who were fleeing in faith of the Frost Phoenix, to drop to their knees in dismay, staring blankly at the frost and snow slowly dissipating and falling silent in the air.
“Divine being… it’s a divine being.”
But the only witnesses to everything that transpired were Fisher and the almost unconscious Haldor behind him.
At that moment, the curse-bound cage in the center of the shrine suddenly opened, and Valentina, inside, clearly heard the massive noise coming from outside. Her previously calm demeanor disappeared in an instant, and she became anxious, rubbing the ring on her hand while sitting in her wheelchair.
After hearing the sounds from outside, she could no longer heed the admonitions of those nearby and opened the curse-bound cage, heading into the cold shrine.
“Haldor!”
In the Moon Rabbit tribe’s shrine, under the watchful gaze of the cold moonlight, chunks of stone from above were continually crashing down due to the magic Fisher had released moments ago, transforming the exquisitely crafted shrine into a ruin. Valentina called out loudly into the wind and snow outside, yet received no reply.
Ignoring her companions, she pushed the joystick on her wheelchair, disregarding the protests of Felis and Balzak as she headed outside.
“Miss Valentina, the curse may still be out there. It’s best to stay in the curse-bound cage for your safety.”
“Yes, boss, if anything happens to you…”
“Shut up.”
Valentina slowly pushed her wheelchair outside the shrine, finding that all the tents and belongings set up by the members of the Turan family were buried under a fresh layer of white snow. Looking through the falling snow, Valentina squinted her eyes, as if she saw a sitting figure in the distance.
She drew closer to her companions, finally seeing clearly that it was the thinly-clad Fisher Benavides, who was now left with only a white shirt he had come in. He sat quietly in the snow, silently turning to gaze back at the approaching figures without saying a word.
“Wait, you’re here. Did you solve the curse already? Then, where is Haldor?”
Balzak exclaimed in disbelief. Just as the question escaped his lips, Felis kicked him lightly, silencing him. Valentina sat motionless in her wheelchair, while Ilos behind her unconsciously covered her mouth.
Next to Fisher lay a mechanical body that had completely dimmed, draped in the heavy robe Fisher had been wearing. In the open mechanical palms lay a copper necklace that had entirely lost its magical glow.
“Error. Data loss, connection failed. Error data loss, connection failed. Error.”
“Haldor?”
Balzak spoke incredulously, struggling to accept what was happening.
Fisher glanced back at the people behind him, then silently stood up and approached Valentina. Calmly, he said to her, “My condolences, Miss Valentina.”
Valentina lowered her head, clutching the hem of her skirt, her white hair falling down, obscuring her expression.
The northern wind and snow picked up again, and Fisher gradually walked away, becoming invisible. The few subordinates behind Valentina seemed at a loss, even Felis, who was usually straightforward, felt a bit awkward.
She looked at Valentina’s lonely and thin figure sitting in the wheelchair, unable to voice anything until Balzak patted her shoulder and shot her a look, prompting her to leave the spot as if granted amnesty.
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(End of this chapter)
