Echoes of the Past

Chapter 117 Demon

Rescuing Linem = Dry Death and Weeping Mist and Moonlit Fragrance Understand Everything.

A simple and straightforward cognitive approach, but surprisingly, it solved the problem correctly.

Perhaps it was because Suiyue was not really grown up, or perhaps it was because her life in Dawn gave her experience in taking care of children, but she and Linem got along very well.

This gave Nanan, who might have been entangled in Linem's words, time to check the situation within the space.

Passing by the church's main entrance, which acts like a teleportation anchor, you arrive at the side facade, where prominent columnar charging signs occupy most of the wall.

It looks like a phone that's plugged into a charging cable.

The only difference is that the numbers next to the bars are still in the Nora language.

Current charging progress: 3%

Now, he no longer finds these strange changes odd.

This directly confirms Nan'an's conjecture that the entire church is a special kind of deity that requires a long warm-up period before it can carry out limited activities.

Fly fog can track corpses carrying divine or demonic properties.

The Reminiscence Chair allows him to relive the past and reinforce his memories.

The only exception is the church, whose limited battery life and charging requirements make its practical application very limited.

Once separated from the black mist, lacking divine and demonic materials, the recharge stopped, rendering it tasteless yet too valuable to discard.

Not far from the church, piles of sweet potatoes have formed a tower!

Nan'an gave Fly Mist an order: "Move all the exposed yams above the soil to the circled area."

While the two were away from home, Flyfog faithfully carried out the order—it was really stupid.

The command was "naked" potatoes, so when they found some potatoes that were half-naked, they obediently only took half of them.

The circle drawn by Nan'an wasn't very big, so the flies and fogs became very persistent in playing with mud and building blocks.

They laid a solid foundation, then stacked layers of sweet potatoes neatly, and built extremely tall illegal buildings on top.

The scattered, ungathered mud potatoes around them indicated that this swarm of unlucky flies had failed more than once.

Without any guidance or error correction instructions, the fly fog's execution capability ends here.

Looking at the dilapidated potato tower, Nan'an laughed in exasperation.

"Okay, you guys did a great job. Try to do as well as Suiyue."

With these praises, Nan'an expanded his circle of friends.

This freed the fly-foxes, who were playing the role of Sisyphus battling with the slugs, from their obsession with making Babylonian slug towers.

The space is full of unknowns, and we need known anchor points to establish a sense of reality.

For example, the orange trees that Suiyue loves to experiment with have a fruit-bearing cycle of 90 to 100 days.

No fertilizer or cultivation is required.

Nan'an needs to figure out whether sweet potatoes also conform to this cycle.

The industrious Sisyphus flies began their work again, and Nan'an's gaze fell on the ever-spinning Recollection Chair.

As if sensing the urge to relive the past, the chair stopped spinning, landed steadily, and gently rocked, as if waving to Nan'an.

"Nan'an, wake up."

The call from the heavens sent a chill down Nan'an's spine.

It was the sound of a bewitching raven.

Linem couldn't hear anything from the outside world and was puzzled as to why Suiyue wasn't responding.

Nan'an waved to Suiyue, breaking free from the prison of consciousness and returning to the outside world.

It was late at night, but after returning, the crow Guen showed no intention of resting. He simply washed up hastily and changed into a loose-fitting set of clothes.

The three of them took the elevator to the same floor as the shelter area that was set up separately for cat food.

Under Nan'an's management, the cats had complete freedom and never returned to this place on their own initiative.

The crow swiped its card to open a passage to the other side of the platform. At the end of the maze of roads, an interior space opened up, which was a spacious plaza similar to the one where the [Echo Sandbags] were placed.

The "letter" that had been transferred was placed on the wooden table in the center of the space.

"I don't have many doubts about Slatur, but the hasty transfer is still a nightmare with obvious mental interference characteristics, it's too reckless."

The crow uttered the words it had been holding back.

Lord Nora, Gunn's chosen one, taught him tact.

If someone else is controlling the game, the raven will summon a giant raven to spew black smoke in his face, choking him until he faints.

He said it was intuition.

"What intuition?" Bewitching Raven clicked his tongue repeatedly and asked Gunn, "Just because it didn't exhibit any abnormal divine or demonic properties in the Twin Crowns doesn't mean it won't during the transfer process. This isn't an echo sandbag; you can't expect to be completely exempt just by wearing mental suppression items during transport."

If it were that easy to deal with, it wouldn't be the type of deer with the highest mortality rate.

Gunn sighed helplessly, "His judgment was that the messenger delivering the letter wanted Nora's leaders to understand its contents, hence the transfer. Whether this was the result of the letter's own interpretation or the actual purpose of the messenger, as long as the letter was kept away from the Twin Crowns, one of them would inevitably react."

Nan'an pondered deeply.

Slatur's logic wasn't too bad. It's estimated that some of the chief elders had thought of this before, but moving a mental interference-type god or demon rashly was extremely risky, and no one dared to take the risk. So they simply adopted a strategy of sealing it away.

It would be best if we could decipher the contents of the letter.

If it cannot be cracked, ensuring that its divine and demonic characteristics are not triggered and the scope of its influence is expanded is the safest course of action.

It's hard to say whose approach was better, but Slatur was clearly dissatisfied with the chief elders' conservative treatment plan.

Nan'an asked, "Should I continue cracking the code?"

"No, the two attempts are too close together. I don't want you and Suiyue to take too much risk," Huoya explained. "Suppress the activity of the gods and demons and check if the contents at the end of the letter match the original. After all, they are spiritual gods and demons, and no one can say for sure what happened on the way—memories may not be reliable either."

Gunn personally opened the sealed box, and the crow took out the letter.

"&#@（）*！@~（）——）#*@"

It was indescribable; it was as if a jumble of unfamiliar languages, pieced together, filled the three of them like a flowing stream.

Thousands of voices whispered, and high-frequency, high-speed chanting filled the air.

Nan'an took a deep breath: "You heard everything?"

The two, Bewitching Raven and Guen, exchanged a glance and nodded slightly.

Something has changed that seems wrong.

The letter from Risseres will only be fully unfolded, and anyone who sees it directly will sense something unusual.

But at this moment, the letter from Ritheres in the hands of the Raven had not yet been unfolded.

Both of them were wearing crystals that suppressed mental attacks, but the sound was still everywhere.

"Nan'an, it's up to you now."

The crow unfolded the letter.

Holding his breath, Nan An suddenly opened his eyes. He didn't want to waste his energy dealing with the massive amount of information in the superfluous text that could drown his thoughts, so he focused his gaze on the end of the letter.

Last time, he only recognized the word "Farito".

In the Risserian language, it means rainy, and it is also a personal name.

This time————

Nan'an's gaze froze, his pupils suddenly dilated, and remained fixed for a long time.

Seeing that he remained staring motionless for several seconds, the Raven snapped, "Don't get lost in it, Gunn!"

He put away the letter and quickly sealed it back in the box.

At the same time, Gunn placed his hand on Nan'an, only to find that his legs seemed to be glued to the ground and he could not move.

"careful----"

"careful----"

Nan'an kept repeating himself, as if he were eating.

"Watch out, Boron Jean Farrell—"

"he----"

"yes----"

"demon!"

"Nan'an!"

Behind the bewitching raven, a giant black raven flapped its wings and howled wildly, its piercing, hoarse voice stabbing straight into eardrums. Gunn, who was right next to it, immediately put on a mask of pain.

The same is true for Nan'an.

"Stop! I'm fine, please stop!"

Faced with the piercing cawing of crows that made no distinction between friend and foe, he, who was not delirious to begin with, was instead so frightened by the sudden high-pitched sound that his heart stopped.

Without a word, the crow placed its hand on Nan'an's cheek and gently pinched his eyelids, trying to find a basis for its judgment.

"I am a Heroic Spirit; my methods for dealing with the living are not very effective."

As soon as he finished speaking, the crow Guen couldn't help but gasp for breath.

"I knew we shouldn't have rushed into the transport; the Divine Nightmare has mutated—we finally gained control of Nan'an, and it almost came to naught—"

Guen readily accepted good advice.

"Okay, okay, I will offer my advice tactfully. There will be many opportunities to accompany you closely afterward, and I can also provide suggestions on these risky betting strategies."

Before the changes in Riceles' letter were clarified, the information revealed by Nanan already gave the situation a strange quality.

The complete context clearly establishes that Boron Jean Farrit is indeed a person's name, leaving no room for further ambiguity.

Can----

The crow asked in surprise, "Nan'an, you speak Risereth?"

"Absolutely not."

Guen was also completely puzzled.

"But you have fully described the contents of the letter, which would require scholars to consult classical texts to translate."

Nan'an took a deep breath.

At that moment, the context connecting the letter to "Farito" at the end seemed to wriggle and piece together.

The text, which should have been vague, unclear, and incomprehensible, instantly transformed into two different languages.

Nora language, and the square script he was familiar with.

It's like translation software suddenly intervening, giving unfamiliar characters a familiar and warm outline.

But when he tried to read the rest of the letter, a sudden wave of dizziness hit him.

He was not delirious or confused, but was overwhelmed by tinnitus, feeling dizzy and unable to react to his surroundings.

Memories allowed Nan'an to feel the lingering dampness and stickiness in the "fragments".

Like a pair of young girls' hands, she had just touched Nan'an's thoughts at some point.

Whether it was the sweat from her nervous hands or her naturally soft and slippery skin, it left traces that could be captured.

Nan'an subconsciously touched her cheek.

Gazing at the unknown creates ripples in one's consciousness; a slippery sensation is vague yet clearly present on the body.

A false body of flesh and blood, leaving behind a false sense of touch?

"What's wrong?"

Faced with the crow's question, Nan'an was unsure how to explain his feelings at that moment.

Is it the lingering effect of something contained in Risseré's letter?

Or something else?

The metal door sealing the letters slammed shut.

Upon receiving the information, old Victor was given a new task: to guard the area and keep a close watch on the mail using the provided photographic equipment.

Nora merged, and he no longer needed to return to the Fogwall as a Guardian.

In Slatur's eyes, every Elru was an important treasure.

Upon learning that a senior member of the El-deer clan had to take on multiple roles, patrolling the fog wall alongside the fog sentries, he privately launched into another tirade against the incompetence of the Senate.

The test results from the windwort showed that the three people were unharmed, but Nan'an was still immersed in that false sensation and felt a chill.

Indeed, it looks like there's something there.

Inside the hall, the three remained silent for a long time, watching Maofan squat by the stove, simmering sweet soup as a late-night snack.

The cause of the mutation can only be left undiscussed for now, otherwise everything will be even more confusing.

"Borone Jean Farrito," the raven chewed on the name, "the devil—should we take it literally?"

Nan'an pondered: "Based solely on the context I've read, 'demon' is more likely an adjective."

Gunn gasped.

"So, the messenger himself wants us to know that a despicable and powerful individual has visited Nora? Then why doesn't he appear in person, instead of using a corrupted letter to deliver the message?"

They couldn't understand this roundabout approach.

The inherently disruptive nature of letter paper today renders it no longer a medium for carrying information, but rather more like a plague.

Readers will naturally be placed in the perception of the existence of a "messenger".

Compared to the demon whose existence is unknown, Boron Jean Farrito's letter should be treated with greater seriousness, and no outsiders should have any physical contact with it except for the three of them.

Cat Food approached with a tray, offering each person a bowl of corn syrup and a small piece of grilled potato.

The three men, their brows furrowed in worry, exchanged a smile.

Let's eat first.

"It would have been unimaginable a year ago that cat food could have become like this," Gunn shook his head repeatedly. "With your permission, it seems like anyone can now enjoy its excellent cooking."

Nan An shrugged: "My initial affability seems to be in a league of its own?"

"Then you should ask for more perks for the cat food," the crow urged. "His Majesty has not generously granted permission for the base's operating funds, so why not try to get some more?"

Gunn smiled, wanting to agree, but then slowly closed his mouth, looking bewildered.

"No problem. Tomorrow, Zla Image will be going to the Sickle Water pilot site for inspection, so I can mention it while I'm at it."

Nan'an looked at Huoya with some worry.

"That lurking, voracious Nightmare God—"

"It's Living Eclipse," the Crow corrected. "Although I don't think he would dare to show his face in the current situation, I have instructed His Majesty to take necessary precautions."

This is a character that will give them a real headache.

During the invasion of the mimic gods and demons, he not only became active but also took the opportunity to kill one of the mimic gods and demons and devour the fragments to continue fusing.

His familiarity with the underground waterways, like a dragon swimming through waterways, clearly indicated he was a local.

Even the city-wide census-style search by Pirion's guards failed to uncover him.

"A level one divine or demonic ability of the Eye of Aging?" Gunn tapped the table lightly.

"Elmar Henn probably wouldn't even look at him," Nan An chuckled. "She wouldn't stoop to the level of someone who needs to undergo fusion and evolution to match his combat power."

"It sounds like you're quite familiar with that capricious guy?"

"But why didn't you tell me before that Erlu had already dealt with her?" Nan'an complained.

"She doesn't always introduce herself, and she doesn't always show her face," Crow said bluntly. "I don't like her, but she's a fast runner."

.

Nan An wondered, "Where did she get her high-level dark elemental magic? From whom did she inherit it?"

"When I first met Elu, she said she found her in some underground palace," Bewitching Raven scoffed. "It sounds like a bard's adventure."

Nan'an couldn't hold on any longer.

If it's true, then Almahern really deserves to die.

What kind of lucky dog ​​is he? He awakened the power of gods and demons and directly obtained the Eye of Aging, ascending to the heavens in one step.

The Aging Eye is powerful against single targets but ineffective against groups, so let's just throw in another disengagement gift pack.

I've shipped them all out for her!

Nan'an's fists are hard as nails.

Either be my dog, or I'll keep your head.

We must not let this lucky player run rampant!