Chapter 84 The Spear of Courage Still Presses Forward (Part 7) Our Mission...
A butterfly, its body covered in gold dust, fluttered its wings as it flew over the crowd, leaving a trail of shimmering dust that fell on the shoulders of the travelers. It passed through the bustling market and past a blooming violet on the flower-lined avenue, drifting through a long, serpentine procession before finally landing on the head of a clergyman wearing a white-gold hood.
Feng Feng clasped his hands together, trying to catch the butterfly on Xia Zhu's body. Unfortunately, although it seemed slow to move, it had already sensed the approaching person's intention and flew away first, leaving Feng Feng with his hands covered in golden powder.
She clapped her hands, and powder fell in a flurry.
"Speaking of which, should we really let that old man go? What if he is the ghost? Where will we find him in this vast world?"
“I don’t think it’s very likely that he is a demon. I still believe that there must be a reason why this world is set up as a game. Maybe the princess who was captured by the Demon King is the demon.” Xia Zhu turned her head to talk to Feng Feng, and then took another step forward.
The queue stretched as far as the eye could see. The six of them had been waiting here for an hour. Finally, they made their way from the outside into the Sunset Cathedral. The long queue that stretched as far as the eye could see was for people waiting to have their wooden staffs enchanted.
Ji Wuchou caught a little sprite that had just been enchanted and was about to leave and questioned it. Only then did everyone learn that the wooden staff was used to make a teleportation array. With the teleportation staff, it would be easy to go to any country on the Little Fish Beach Continent.
No wonder that old man was willing to give them a ride; it turns out that once you leave this village, it's hard to find a sucker.
This is considered the first very valuable beginner task.
After waiting in line for three hours, it was finally Xia Zhu's turn. She solemnly held the wooden staff in both hands and slowly walked up the steps, completely absorbed in her role-playing game. She raised the magical wooden staff high and offered it to the black-robed bishop seated on the platform. Feng Feng, standing below, clicked his tongue in amazement, saying that Xia Zhu's acting skills were improving day by day and would soon surpass his own.
The bishop, clad in a dark gold robe, had her face covered by a black veil, obscuring her features; even her eyes were hidden in the shadow cast by her hat. She raised a silver serpent staff, tilting it forward to point at the piece of wood in Xia Zhu's hand. Xia Zhu curiously looked up, seeing the king serpent baring its fangs. The stained glass ceiling was shimmering in the sunlight, starlight flashing past the serpent's fangs. She saw the bishop tilt her head slightly, revealing her eyes, and wink slyly at her.
Xia Zhu was startled, her brain unable to react in time. She heard a celestial chant drifting from her left ear to her right. A flash of silver light appeared before her eyes, and the bishop, seated upright, regained his mysterious aura, showing no signs of anything amiss.
The wooden staff in her hand was coated with a ring of seven-colored light, like a sun halo falling to the ground. Holding the teleportation wand, she walked down the steps in a daze, silently recalling the eyes she had just seen for a fleeting moment.
She was certain she didn't know the person; everything from the eye sockets to the irises was unfamiliar. Yet, for some reason, a sense of familiarity welled up inside her. She even suspected that she was just a set of data in the game, like a program that had been triggered and had to react.
"Familiarity" is "familiarity," and there's no reason to force it to work.
She stepped out of the Sunset Cathedral and stood under the pillars at the entrance, gazing at the sky above. The weather was clear, cloudless, and the azure sky was only partially obscured by a thin layer of white on the horizon. Xia Zhu's pupils suddenly dilated as an incredibly bright daytime meteor streaked across the sky, leaving a razor-sharp trail as if it were about to cleave the heavens.
"Ah Zhu!" Feng Feng jumped out from behind. "The teleportation wand is now enchanted. Please use it to travel to the Southern Swamp." She held the wand in one hand and the parchment scroll in the other, reading its contents aloud.
“The main quest has changed again. Southern swamp, I remember it’s the Orc Kingdom, right? Isn’t that Little Raven’s hometown here? Perfect timing to go home and visit!” She slapped Ying Ya hard on the back as he followed her out, and a black feather fluttered down from his cloak and fell to the ground.
Feng Feng suddenly froze, her mouth slightly agape, unsure of what to do. She slapped her mouth twice in frustration, knowing full well that some words should never be uttered in front of the little crow. She had been so engrossed in this dream that she had forgotten herself, repeatedly singing "home" to others for a long time.
I know perfectly well how sensitive and pitiful this little bird is.
To save time and find the demon as soon as possible, once all six of them have collected the magic wands, they should make the most of them and head straight to the next target.
They were right at the entrance of the Sunset Cathedral, still using voice-controlled operation.
As soon as Xia Zhu finished speaking the words "Southern Swamp," he felt his vision blur and his body seemed to become transparent. He was also unable to move much. The overlapping figures in front of him seemed to be pressing down on him. Although he did not feel the suffocating weight, it did restrict his movement to a certain extent.
The feeling was like suddenly becoming a vegetable. You could hear the noisy sounds around you and smell the unique humid heat of the South, but your limbs felt stiff and unsteady, as if they were filled with cement, making it difficult to move.
This state lasted for three minutes before Xia Zhu was finally freed from that helpless state. At the same time, the people around her also looked like they had just climbed out of a swamp.
"What just happened?" Feng Feng shook her arms in discomfort. The forced stillness made her feel like a million ants were crawling all over her body.
What's going on? This is a game world, it's perfectly normal for teleportation points to lag due to the large number of people.
Southern Swamps, as the name suggests, is a country located south of the mainland with numerous swamps. This place has unique terrain, a hot and humid climate, and is teeming with various snakes, insects, rodents, and ants. Due to its unique natural advantages, organisms here are prone to mutation.
That's why the orc race came into being.
The teleportation point for the Southern Swamp is located in a forest called the Silent Land, just an ordinary, harmless patch of land in the Orcish Kingdom. Snake-men with the upper bodies of muscular men but dragging giant python tails crawl past, or eight-legged, jet-black, hairy spiders with only a stunningly beautiful face visible on their bellies hang upside down from the treetops—these are commonplace and nothing to be surprised about. The criterion for harmlessness is that they are already well-fed and watered and will not attack humans unprovoked.
The group moved to a relatively spacious and normal area and gathered together to study the parchment scroll.
The route that required travel to the southern swamp had been crossed out, and a new line of text slowly appeared below it.
"Find the Skybird and collect its feathers."
"Last time we chopped wood to make a teleportation wand, so why are we looking for birds this time?" Feng Feng scratched his head.
“These should all be the necessary tasks on the path to becoming a hero. They’re simple but logical, and they probably all lead to finding the Demon King and rescuing the princess.” Ji Yinxiu rolled up the parchment. “Maybe we can ask around as we walk out of the forest.”
Following the map's directions, the group traversed a relatively safe and quiet area, arriving at a fairly well-organized village, the settlement of most law-abiding orcs. It looked much like a starting village.
Besides the incredibly strong local customs, their enthusiasm was like a raging flood, overwhelming even the weakest Ying Ya.
A woman with short purple hair, wearing an apron and with her sleeves rolled up to reveal her strong arms, suddenly rushed out from somewhere and tackled Ying Ya to the ground like a directional missile. Her aggressive manner caused the five people present to take a step back in unison, leaving the stage in the middle for the two on the ground.
The woman, with dark skin and a rosy complexion, pressed herself against Ying Ya with tears welling in her eyes. She cradled his head, brushing his long hair, which covered his eyes, back to reveal his delicate, pale face and a pair of panicked, fearful eyes.
"You've lost weight, you look haggard, and you've almost lost all your feathers..." The woman babbled as she stroked Ying Ya from head to toe, finally hugging him tightly and burying her head deep in the crook of his neck.
Ying Ya stared blankly at the sky above, his nose twitching. When he smelled a warm scent that he perceived as "familiar," his tense and resistant body suddenly collapsed.
"Ying Ya, my good son, you've finally come home after all this time."
The woman's muffled voice came from her trembling skin. Because of the closeness, the soft sound lingered slowly and tenderly in Ying Ya's mind with the frequency of the vibrations. It felt like an extremely fine needle had been inserted into his chest. Blood couldn't flow out, and death was still far away. There was just a persistent soreness and burning sensation, followed by a dense, tidal wave of pain.
His eyes welled up with unfamiliar tears as if he had been punched, his pupils trembled in astonishment, and his hands rose uncontrollably, only to stop just before touching the woman's back.
"Mother…?"
He had never called this strange name to any specific person since birth, so much so that when he uttered it with skepticism, he was almost overwhelmed by a surge of shame.
A short red line appeared on the parchment at his waist, silently marking off a unique side quest in a place known only to Ying Ya.
Give Daphne a hug.
*
Ying Ya felt as if his chest had just been brutally crushed by a blizzard.
When Daphne left him, he felt the temperature around him plummet, an indescribable cold, as if he were walking naked on an ice field.
And Daphne, this strange woman who claimed to be his mother, was that raging flame. The last time he was burned by the flames was when that little red-haired girl with two braids stubbornly stood in front of him, using her small body to fight against a whole storm of malice. The flames melted his cold heart and remained thereafter, eternally.
But now, his two flames are laughing exaggeratedly at the sky in front of the photo of his so-called "young bird period".
"This one! This one! This one is of a little bird that has just learned to fly, proudly pacing on the tree outside the yard, flapping its wings, when it suddenly tripped and fell flat on its backside!"
"That's hilarious! Hahahaha!" Feng Feng laughed so hard he could barely breathe, and even managed to wink at Ying Ya. It was as if the comically bald, gray bird in the photo was really him when he was a child.
Ying Ya sat sullenly on the sofa made of soft feathers.
"I didn't expect you to be so mischievous when you were little. Who would have thought?" Ying Huo added insult to injury, comfortably leaning back on the other single sofa and spouting nonsense.
A bubbling mushroom soup simmered on the stove, its aroma spreading throughout the cabin. The floral curtains by the window swayed in the sunlight, casting dappled, warm light and shadow on the rows of vibrant succulents.
The indoor temperature gradually rose, making people's eyes feel hot and their limbs feel weak.
Daphne enthusiastically took the six people home, saying she would cook them a delicious meal. However, halfway through, she sensed that Ying Ya treated Feng Feng differently. She rushed into the bedroom and searched high and low, insisting on showing the little elf photos of Ying Ya when he was a child.
A gentle breeze blew in through the window, and unrestrained laughter filled the air.
What were they doing? They spoke with such seriousness and conviction, as if it were all true, as if he had a kind, loving, and perhaps somewhat carefree mother, as if his first ten years or so had been smooth sailing, with minor troubles that were nothing to worry about, since he would always be sheltered from the storms under his mother's wings, as if he had always had a small, ordinary, and warm home.
Home?
Ying Ya lowered his head awkwardly, looking at his hand, which was now nothing but bare white bone.
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