Chapter 132
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Chapter 132: Murmured
"What are you laughing at?" Victor asked.
"What, can’t I laugh?" Tasha said.
"Of course not. Without your smiling face, this night would be dim." Victor smoothly complimented, then changed the subject, "But you don’t smile like this when you’re happy, you save that smile for teasing others – wait, am I the target?"
"Yes," Tasha couldn’t help but smile, "Are you protesting?"
They hand in hand jumped into the center of the dance floor. For two soldiers with excellent coordination, any dance was a piece of cake. Tasha’s red dress unfolded as they spun, like a blooming pomegranate flower, the skirt soaked up the light, glamorous and translucent. The lights projected onto them, making them look like shining beings.
But no one looked in that direction.
At first, people’s gazes met, but soon after the dance began, all eyes disappeared. The most curious admirers and the most dedicated journalists subconsciously turned their heads away. Their eyes slid off before touching them, Tasha and Victor were both in the crowd and outside the crowd, like a drop of oil in water.
The central square was bustling tonight, and a small blank space appeared in the lively center of the dance floor. People unconsciously stopped a few meters away from Tasha. While those closer might make way for Lord Governor, what about the dancers who unknowingly danced towards them? Therefore, this avoidance was not a spontaneous act, or rather, not entirely voluntary.
A dragon swooped through the sky, causing the griffins to panic; a higher demon played tricks in the crowd, still looking human and smiling. People instinctively dispersed, as if birds avoiding the shadow of a hawk.
"Do I?" Victor blurted out, quickly realizing this argument was weak. "Well, maybe." He smoothly changed his tune under Tasha’s gaze, "Well, what can I say? You’ve created a body of a higher demon for me from such precious materials, and my soul itself stands out so much. Without some unique special effects, wouldn’t it be a waste of your hard work?"
He spoke with a touch of truth and falsehood, skillfully avoiding a direct answer.
The effect of the Holy Tree rolling pin was temporarily removed. Though Victor’s current body couldn’t compare to his original one, it was much stronger than the Book of Dungeons. The Book of Dungeons was just some magical book or item, but now Victor had returned to the level of a higher demon. His new body was a true demon – fortunately, only Abyss Factor would trigger detection spells against demons, so Victor, being an exiled demon of the abyss, didn’t dazzle various instruments and magic.
A demon close to the level of a lord, capable of creating some special effects, was to be expected.
But was Tasha referring to this matter?
Victor was clearly changing the subject. Tasha was asking if he had done something, but he answered if he could achieve something. This roundabout way of answering actually gave Tasha the answer. Yes, this guy used a bit of demon trickery, making others unconsciously avoid them, separating himself from Tasha in the crowd. So this dance took place in public, yet it was enjoyed by the two of them alone.
Whether intentional or unintentional, Tasha found it quite cute.
Victor’s denial made him even more adorable, like a little boy turning his head after giving flowers. A shameless and smooth-talking guy, once he showed a bit of shyness, he became more charming than someone with a blush of shyness.
Even if the demon didn’t use these little tricks, not many people at the ball would take their pictures. Reports related to Miss Natasha and Mr. Victor had peaked, and all news would eventually become old news. Mentioning "Madam Governor’s lover" wouldn’t surprise or shock people anymore. Victor’s public image was gradually being established, his "persona" slowly being implanted in the public’s minds, starting to be accepted by people.
He participated in some academic conferences about the abyss, calmly responding to all doubts, successfully convincing everyone. He appeared at the upper parliament to address the abyss invasion as an advisor, quickly proving that he wasn’t there just because of his connections. His excellent insights in art, broad perspectives, and vast knowledge impressed Ribe Lake, ultimately changing the direction and even making the most critical media alter their views. Victor was cunning, lived long enough, could talk well, and could turn things around effortlessly, which saved Tasha a lot of behind-the-scenes work.
"A mysterious pretty boy," that’s how they initially described him.
"A fortunate one who gained favor," that’s how they later described him.
Now, people put titles like "extraordinary", "amazing", and "magical" before Victor’s name without any sarcasm. Victor showed many extraordinary qualities in a short period of time. If he didn’t initially appear almost like a clown and his entrance wasn’t so entertaining, people might have felt scared.
Everything went exactly as they had planned.
The clever people at the Casters Association thought they knew the truth, seeing Victor as a member of the Ancient Mage Tower’s loot, a demon sealed by ancient wizards, banished to the abyss, and captured by the Lord Governor. With Tasha’s tacit approval and subtle encouragement, this "truth" slowly started to spread.
The "informed" wizards praised Tasha’s wisdom and courage in capturing the demon, while the more emotional witches found this strange love story quite moving. Some even willingly sent love potions to Tasha (like the "True Love Potion for making your cheating lover quite… fetching"). Whether seen as a strategic union or a love story, those who believed in this gossip all agreed that Madam Governor had sorted out the demon.
Governor Natasha of Tasmarin could never be manipulated by a demon. She wouldn’t abandon us, nor would she lose – this was the reputation that Tasha had built through Aryan’s struggles up to this day.
Snap! Victor snapped his fingers near Tasha’s ear, noticing her distraction. Tasha refocused her wandering thoughts and said, "I admire your confidence."
"Oh, you flatter me," Victor humbly replied. "If I wasn’t so exceptional, why would you be interested in me?"
"Don’t forget about this attractive appearance of mine," Tasha teased.
She flicked Victor’s abdomen with two fingers, and Victor caught her hand, kissed it by his lips. Nearby journalists raised their cameras but then lowered them, staring ahead blankly, as if that dedicated heart had almost shaken the demon’s spell. Tasha and Victor, seeing this, both smiled involuntarily.
"This isn’t really a protest, just a little clearing out." Victor brought up an old topic, "If it were a protest, I would have started long ago. Your people see you as a god, not believing any ordinary person can stand by your side. The less I look like an ordinary person, the more they accept me."
"People always idolize extraordinary figures in their minds," Tasha replied, "I suppose you’ve seen many examples already."
"Indeed, common people idolize heroes, alienate heroes, to shift responsibility onto them, to give them a glimmer of hope in their otherwise hopeless lives. Their heroes are just an excuse, just like festivals are excuses for revelry and forgetting fear," Victor sighed, "They never delve into where you come from. Governor Natasha is synonymous with miracles, with no need for any explanation."
"That’s not so bad, I just hope they don’t turn into dreamers lying on the ground waiting for miracles," Tasha sighed, "I’m not a miracle, just doing what I can."
"Oh dear," Victor laughed, "You speak as if you truly belong among them."
"I do," Tasha said.
"Really?" the demon raised an eyebrow, "No, no, no, you are unlike any being I’ve encountered, whether it’s a Celestial Being, Abyssal Creation, or earthly creature. You’re a unique Nest Mother – sometimes I truly wonder how you understand so many emotions on your own – but you still do not belong to your people."
"I don’t belong to them," Tasha nodded, "But when did I ever say I am a Nest Mother?"
Victor paused, then suddenly understood.
"You never said before, oh, avoid the issue, I can’t believe I fell for that." He chuckled and looked curious, "Then what are you? Did you fall from the sky?"
"Have you regained your memory, did you call out to me?" Tasha asked.
"No," Victor replied, "This dungeon should have been completely destroyed, I never prepared for a dungeon consciousness."
"Well, that’s not very clear."
"What?"
"’Fell from the sky,’" Tasha smiled, "You never know."
More than twenty years after coming to Aryan, on the last day of the Red Rain Festival, during this dancing night, Tasha finally revealed her story for the first time.
She talked about waking up on her first day in Aryan, about how her soul entered the Dungeon Core, and how she transformed from a floating spirit into the consciousness of this dungeon.
She spoke about the day before she arrived in Aryan, about how she died. The story was about a stormy night, with lightning and thunder, a car skidding on a deserted road, and a driver who didn’t know what they hit. She died, then lived again, only to wake up in a place that was no longer her old world, but a brand new, unknown Aryan.
She talked about a layer between the "first day" and the "last day" that disappeared from her memory, leaving only a vague impression. As Tasha navigated the Astral Plane with the protection of a forbidden curse from the Book of Dungeons, she suddenly felt a familiar sensation: the tense prickling on her skin as space tore apart was eerily similar to the moment before a car accident; the weightlessness felt during space jumps was akin to the moment after death and before losing consciousness. She realized that when she died and crossed into Aryan, she had traveled through the Astral Plane.
"I don’t know why I am here," Tasha said, "but I remember, I am just a common person."
Victor stayed silent, his amber eyes wide open, seemingly processing the overwhelming information. After a while, he finally spoke up.
"So, your name is ‘Tasha’," Victor said strangely, "You didn’t tell me that."
"Is that what’s on your mind?" Tasha almost lost her composure; she made a calculated decision to reveal her biggest secret, hoping Victor would offer a valuable assumption about why she came here—The Hall of True Knowledge didn’t provide much useful information.
"So, the alias Natasha is actually closer to your admitted name, right?" Victor immersed himself in his own thoughts, muttering, "I thought we were different from them, knowing each other’s true names…"
Tasha sighed deeply, began to tighten her grip around Victor’s waist, twisting and rotating clockwise.
"Ah, I see now!" Victor finally snapped back to reality, trying to compose himself, "Well, I don’t know why either. The stuff about the Astral Plane and the world is very complex, filled with random events that are hard to understand. It’s an intersection of countless worlds, where the laws of many worlds can have a limited impact. Most scholars studying the Astral Plane have gone mad trying to infer its laws, it’s simpler to study the rules of the Abyss instead."
"So, you mean, my appearance in Aryan might really just be an accident?" Tasha asked.
"Maybe," Victor answered, making a serious gesture, "because besides accidents, I can’t think of anything else."
Though disappointing, it was expected. Tasha sighed and nodded.
"But I still think you’re wrong," Victor said.
"Where did I go wrong?" Tasha asked.
"You still aren’t one of them," Victor grinned, "Ordinary is not strength, it’s the soul. an extraordinary soul will eventually stand out. What they lack is an opportunity – how many among all Aryans would achieve what you have? The soul that travels in the Astral Plane is you, you chose this path, chose Aryan, chose me, and have always been victorious."
Victor paused when mentioning this word, they exchanged a smile.
"Wish you always win," Victor, trapped in the Book of Dungeons, said to Tasha as he gave her the Soul Fragment. "I will always win," Tasha once vowed when facing Victor’s sacrifice. Victor didn’t have full confidence when blessing, and Tasha wasn’t entirely confident when making the vow, but they stumbled together to this day, never giving up, never intending to give up.
"So don’t be modest," Victor said, "Your appearance in Aryan is a real ‘miracle’ for us."
It sounds unbelievable.
While in the midst of it, everything seemed to fall into place naturally for Tasha. She felt like she was just trying her best to survive and live a better life after crossing over. The journey was tough but not impossible. Looking back at the starting point after more than twenty years, Tasha couldn’t help but be amazed.
Reaching this point felt like a miracle. As the creator of this miracle, Tasha felt proud and fearless.
If she could accomplish these impossible tasks and create more, it didn’t seem so far-fetched.
"I still feel like we are more alike," Victor blinked, "You left your birth world, and I left mine – even though my journey was shorter compared to yours. I died, and then lived again; you also died, and then lived again. Comparing to everyone else in the world, aren’t we companions?"
"Yes," Tasha laughed.
She could feel Victor teasing her to make her laugh. She indeed felt more relaxed. The festival that Tasha had organized didn’t entertain her, just like a magician himself finds it hard to enjoy being deceived by his own magic tricks. The uncertainty brought by the impending invasion of the abyss was smoothed over, and before being soothed, Tasha didn’t even realize she was anxious. It was funny that she had to rely on a demon to find solace.
"When we can freely enter the Astral Plane," Tasha said, "let’s go visit my hometown together, okay?"
"Sure," Victor smiled, "Oh, according to the trendy plays nowadays, for safety’s sake, we should get married immediately instead of returning to your hometown to marry."
"Get, get married?!" a young voice exclaimed.
Victor and Tasha stopped and turned to look to the side. A girl with braided hair suddenly covered her mouth, blushing under their gaze.
The girl had nowhere to hide. Around Tasha and Victor, the dance floor had a blank circle about two meters wide with no one inside. Despite the area being cleared out by a devilish act, a young girl had somehow appeared nearby, close enough to overhear. Victor licked his lips, looking embarrassed.
Tasha patted his back soothingly and asked the girl gently, "Gabriella, what are you doing here?"
"It’s my mom…," Gabriella said anxiously, tugging at her skirt. "They made me come play again. I just want to play with someone by myself. I’m not a gullible kid anymore. They always do that… so I ran out. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop… Please don’t tell them…"
Her voice was soft and delicate, and if it weren’t for Tasha’s keen ears, no one would have heard what she said. The fourteen-year-old girl spoke with her head down, gentle yet shy. But her outfit and her timid character were quite different: her dark red dress had intricate patterns that could make a person dizzy from looking at them for too long; a large golden necklace with a pendant the size of a baby’s fist in the shape of a skull hung from her neck; five bracelets of different styles adorned her slender wrists, strung together in a very eerie manner; a pair of overly mature earrings hung from her ears, upon closer inspection, they were not studs but clips.
This outfit would be perfect for a costume party, but this young girl wore it on a regular day.
Gabriella was the daughter of a witch.
In recent years, the witches of Tasmanian had gained two new members: the daughter of Plague Witch Leslie was born last year, and the other was Gabriella, the daughter of Echo Witch Aphra. For a long time, Gabriella was the only child among the witches, with a witch birth mother, a group of witch godmothers, and Tasha had also taken a role as a foster mother. The various bits of decoration on the young girl, including that very, very ominous dress, were protective talismans made by the witches. Even though she had not awakened to her powers yet, those items were enough to keep her safe and sound.
If it was Gabriella, her ability to ignore the devil’s tricks was not entirely incomprehensible.
The little girl wasn’t sure if she was lucky or unlucky. Her mom was so bossy that she made her feel like she had to walk sideways in Tasmarin (or even Aryan). But the girl herself was shy and gentle, and couldn’t handle her fierce mom. Tasha felt sorry for Gabriella and gently patted her head, imagining how she might run away from the witches trying to make her do witchy things.
"Don’t worry, I’ll keep your secret," Tasha said. "Go and play, I’ll handle them."
"Thank you! You are so kind!" Gabriella breathed a sigh of relief. "I actually didn’t want to leave, but I’ve been feeling really unwell today. Something hasn’t felt right since this morning, I want to… one more time… one more time…"
Tasha grabbed Gabriella’s shoulder.
She grabbed her just in time, if Tasha hadn’t held her with both hands, Gabriella would have fallen backward.
The young witch’s slender neck twisted back, her spine bent into a small half-circle, her head tilted back. Her brown eyeballs rolled back, all the way under her upper eyelids, showing a large white eye. Tasha held Gabriella’s head still, laying her carefully on the ground to prevent her from hurting herself during this sudden convulsion.
Gabriella was unharmed, her magical items showed no reaction, not a single one acted to protect her owner. But she didn’t look okay, in the seizure, Gabriella’s eyes suddenly rolled upwards again.
Her eyes had almost disappeared, human eyes couldn’t possibly turn again, that would be a full circle. Yet Gabriella’s eyeballs turned once more, after the turn, a pair of blue eyes appeared in her eye sockets.
Tasha saw stars in those blue eyes.
"Once again—"
Said Gabriella Card.
"The stalemate reshuffles
A shooting star breaks through the locked gates
A wooden bridge is built upon
The already deceased body of a liar
One city falls
One city rises
Blood and ashes cultivate the seeds of hope
A soul from beyond the world
Will eventually wear the Crown of Thorns—"
The little witch’s voice abruptly stopped, her eyes with peculiar speckles of light closed suddenly. Gabriella collapsed, her eyes tightly shut, silent.
"Happy Awakening Day," Victor muttered to himself, "Astrologer Witch."