Warlock Apprentice

Popota would never destroy the Inscription hub without reason.

For him to commit such a shocking act, Popota must have had his own pressing demands.

However, Angel couldn’t imagine why someone who had only recently been an Apprentice would go through great lengths to come to Lassudral to complete this task. Even if given to an Official Wizard, or a True Knowledge Wizard, it wouldn’t necessarily be achievable, let alone for an Apprentice.

So Popota’s demands must have been very urgent, compelling him to take such action. The only urgent matters Angel could think of in a short time were “the Innkeeper’s promotion” and “Aoluxiya’s arrival in the outer layer.”

Perhaps Popota was acting for one of these reasons, or maybe both.

But for either of these events, there was no need to destroy the Inscription hub, was there? Or could his speculation actually be wrong, and Popota’s goal something else entirely?

Angel recalled Popota’s previous ramblings. He remembered Popota had claimed, “No one can stop the rekindling of our ancestral fire, no one!”

Our ancestral fire, rekindling.

When Angel had seen Popota through his Scouting Puppet before, Popota had muttered something similar as well: “To become the kindling for the rekindling of our clan.”

This phrase seemed to reveal some information that might be related to Popota’s goal… But since Angel didn’t understand Popota, he couldn’t analyze it further.

Another thing that Angel couldn’t understand was whether Popota could have foreseen all of this series of events; there must be a source for his information… Therefore, Angel was inclined to believe there was someone guiding Popota from behind.

But who could that person be?

When Popota was at the edge of the Magma pool, he had said to the Demon killed by the devouring chains, “Swallowed by that insatiably greedy old thing, and yet you thought to be reborn!”

Taking into account the circumstances at that time, Angel had initially thought Popota’s mention of “old thing” referred to the chains; but since the chains had been forged by Angel not long ago, they did not match the description of the insatiably greedy old thing mentioned by Popota. Now, thinking back, could this old thing be the person behind Popota?

Angel was full of thoughts, but they were mostly speculations. Moreover, the more he thought, the more complex the information became, making it easier for the truth to be covered and hidden.

Angel could only force himself to stop overthinking and to sort out the established facts from the information he had.

While Angel sorted this out, suddenly, the sounds of fighting outside disappeared.

He was startled: The battle ended so quickly?

Angel quietly opened the door a crack and, as the gap widened, he saw a tall figure standing outside.

It was Sanders.

The fire from the flame statue cast deep shadows on Sanders’s features, and Angel could clearly see him deep in thought, his brow furrowed. When the door cracked open, Sanders’s pupils shifted, looking towards Angel behind the gap, his eyebrows arching as he said, “It’s time to leave.”

…

A few minutes later, Angel could see the grand gates of the Void Tower.

However, Sanders did not immediately take Angel out, instead saying, “Fafnir and Komodo are still struggling outside; it’s very dangerous to leave right now. It’s safer to stay here for the time being.”

Angel nodded in agreement. After all, the exit was now in sight, and his heart, which had been taut since he saw Sanders, finally relaxed.

They found a nearby place to rest and sat down.

Only then did Angel find the leisure to ask, “How is Popota now?”

At the mention of Popota, Sanders frowned again, “His current level of power is almost comparable to the seventh seat of the Void Tower. Although he reached such a high energy level in such a short time, his use of his own power is still very crude. So if it came to a fight, defeating him would be easy, but his body is extremely resilient, making it not so easy to resolve the situation quickly. If he wanted to run, it would be hard to stop him.”

What that implied was that Popota had been driven off.

Sanders looked towards Angel, “I remember you mentioned to Kanter before that you saw Popota in Lassudral?”

Angel nodded and recounted what he had seen through the Scouting Puppet at the Magma pool.

“…I initially thought Popota was a mole for you guys.”

“Lassudral, being in the Void with seven elder Demons in residence, isn’t as easy to infiltrate as other Demon Cities. Even an Official Wizard coming here could easily turn to cannon fodder, so no one would send an Apprentice to act as a mole.”

After speaking, Sanders pondered the words Angel had said before. Popota, using the identity of a Purgatory Flame Slave, infiltrated Lassudral, killed a great number of Purgatory Flame Slaves, and the Scouting Puppet had seen Popota seemingly using chains to devour the corpses of these slaves?

This series of actions, no one would believe, was performed by a Wizard Apprentice.

However, Sanders thought carefully about Popota himself. His strength, over a month ago, was indeed just an Apprentice. Canter would often ask Popota to help him beat game levels, which is why Sanders had quite a deep impression of him compared to others.

But was such an Apprentice, according to Angel’s words, really the one who had destroyed Lassudral?!

“What do you know about Popota?” Sanders asked, “And how did you encounter him before?”

“My understanding of Popota is very limited, we only met a few times, once in the Barbarian Cave…” Angel recounted everything that happened after he met Popota to Sanders. This included the strange things Popota said before, as well as his own analysis.

After listening, Sanders fell into deep thought.

Angel was also pondering about Popota, who kept emphasizing that “no one can stop the rekindling of our tribe’s fire.” This information was obviously very important and was probably the ultimate goal behind the series of actions Popota took in Lassudral.

However, to understand the clues behind this information, one must first know Popota’s background.

But Angel didn’t know much about Popota’s background. The only information he knew were things Popota had once shared voluntarily. For example, their custom was to highly value the enduring transmission of names, and for this, their tribespeople would come up with all sorts of ingenious names, just to be memorable.

Popota’s name was already strange, and his sister’s even more so, simply named Hua Que Que.

As Angel recalled this, he suddenly thought of something and looked up at Sanders, “Mentor, do you know which country’s national bird is the Hua Que?”

He remembered Popota had said, his sister’s name was the national bird of their country! If they could take this opportunity to know which country they were from, perhaps they could deduce his tribe!

“Hua Que? That sounds somewhat familiar,” Sanders thought for a moment, then suddenly stretched out his finger and drew a small circle in the air, creating an illusion right away, “Are you referring to this bird?”

Suddenly, in midair, there appeared a very brightly colored little bird.

Emerald green feathers, pigeon blood-red patterns, ocean blue eyes… This little bird looked colorful, but what was special was the pattern on the bird, resembling both eyes and the peacock’s tail feathers when its plumes are spread out.

The little bird fluttered joyfully in the air, eventually landing gently on Sanders’s fingertip, chirping a crisp and pleasant sound.

“I’ve seen this bird before on the Kashmar Plateau, and locals told me its name was indeed Hua Que. It’s a common bird, nothing extraordinary, and I’ve never heard of any country using it as a national bird,” Sanders paused, then looked at Angel with a questioning gaze, “Why the sudden interest in it?”

Angel didn’t respond to Sanders’s question; his mind, at the moment, was in a haze.

The reason for this was the illusion of the Hua Que right in front of him!

Because he had truly seen this Hua Que before!

In Angel’s mind, he seemed to see a little girl in a goose-yellow dress looking at him with sparkling eyes, her soft and immature voice echoing in his ears as she called out his name, “Brother Pat.”

Angel took out a necklace from his bracelet, its pendant being a heart-shaped ruby. The gem was crystal-clear, cut into sixteen facets by a jewelry artisan, and under the light of the fire statue, its smooth surfaces reflected a bright luster.

Sanders looked at him curiously as he did this.

After Angel took out the necklace, he gently stroked the edge of the ruby. With a click, it seemed he had triggered some mechanism, and a small secret compartment opened.

Sanders noted that the compartment was empty, holding nothing. However, as Angel gazed at the compartment, there was a strange emotion in his eyes.

After a long moment, Angel looked up and whispered softly,

“I think I might know where Popota is from.”

…

“I’ve always felt a strange sense of déjà vu about Popota, feeling something familiar about him. Later, by the Magma Pool, when I learned Popota had taken the name Hua Que Que, a flash of insight struck me, but at the time I didn’t remember anything,” Angel paused, “Just now, after seeing the Mentor’s illusion, I recalled some things.”

Angel related the whole story.

In fact, it all started with that heart-shaped necklace.

Angel had once been to the Black Castle in the Fairy Tale World. At that time, in the graveyard outside of the Black Castle, he found the skeleton of a child, with this necklace nearby. At that time, the secret compartment within the necklace was not empty; inside was a piece of silk, which bore a painting: a curly-haired little girl smiling happily, with a boy hugging her shoulders. However, the boy’s face was damaged, indistinct. The girl’s right hand was held high, and a bird with an eye-like pattern, similar to peacock plumes, was flapping its wings on the back of her hand.

The owner of that skeleton was the little girl in the painting.