Warlock Apprentice

Chapter 1247: Section 1248: On the Ownership of the Primeval Flame

Popota glanced at Angel. Regarding Sanders, he had only heard some rumors, but he didn’t understand the specifics and likewise, he didn’t trust him.

The only one he could trust now was Angel.

Seeing Angel nod to him, Popota pondered for a moment before he began to organize his thoughts and narrate.

Sanders certainly noticed this interaction, but instead of displeasure, his face showed appreciation. It indicated that Angel was also slowly transforming.

While Popota spoke, nobody interrupted him. In the silent open-air study, aside from the whispering breeze and rustling of the plants, there was only Popota’s hoarse and unpleasant voice, which oddly enough, was moving.

Popota began his tale with the tragedy of that year and continued to how he had plotted and stirred up trouble in Lassudral.

In the end, however, Popota still failed, defeated by his insufficient understanding of the Lord of the Profound and the shadowy depths of the Demon God.

Sanders’s emotions did not fluctuate much as he listened. Back in the Void Tower, Angel had already guessed most of Popota’s story, so Popota’s account was merely filling in the last pieces of the puzzle.

Although Sanders was unemotional, he could understand, from a human perspective, the series of actions that Popota had taken.

Unfortunately, strength is like a castle in the air; without the right to speak, without power, sin is inevitable.

This wasn’t just about Popota; behind him, all the actions he represented, including the destruction of the Baiyuan Clan, weren’t they all guilty of harboring precious knowledge?

After all, the world of wizards is not governed by laws, not overseen by deities from the clouds setting forth orders and red lines of order.

From Popota’s narrative, Sanders also learned many previously unheard secrets, such as where the Baiyuanians hid the Primeval Flame, something all wizards were curious about. Popota gave the answer—it was hidden in the Baiyuan ancestral altar.

Popota spoke up to the point where he brought Angel and the others to the Continent of Yuantan, but for the remaining events involving the Demon God and some of Angel’s secrets, Popota did not presume to represent them.

“Your strength has plummeted, and your physical body is on the verge of collapse. It seems your plan has failed,” Sanders paused, “but there is not too much despair in your eyes, which suggests your obsession has not reached a point of utter defeat. Could it be that what resolved your obsession was… Angel?”

Popota nodded slightly.

Sanders made no further comment, and instead tapped his forefinger lightly on the tabletop, producing a crisp sound. It seemed like a calm action, but ripples slowly spread out with the sound, and as they covered Popota, his eyes suddenly began to look confused.

Before long, Popota lay on the ground, dazed and unconscious.

“I have a rough understanding of his situation. What happened next should be where you come in, right?” Sanders turned to Angel. Seeing Angel nod in agreement, he curiously asked, “What makes Popota think you can help him?”

Angel showed the answer through his actions.

Angel stood still, but the Flame Mark on his earlobe shone brightly!

Sanders’s vision blurred for a moment, and a strange yet familiar rhythmic sensation was suddenly captured by him. When he looked carefully, he saw a pale yellow flame emerge from the Flame Mark, alive and twirling around Angel.

The flame may have appeared ordinary, but it was filled with a peculiar rhythm that made one want to kneel and worship.

This was the Primeval Flame, the fire that burned at the dawn of civilization, the common faith of all fire-worshipping tribes—the Primeval Flame!

Sanders’s heart raced as he watched the Primeval Flame, and a touch of greed flashed in his eyes.

It took a while for Sanders to restrain the impulse to seize the flame, and with a controlled voice, he said, “I understand. Put it away.”

Once the disturbance from the Primeval Flame had subsided, Sanders opened his eyes. Having suppressed his inner greed, his mind was much clearer, and he could view the pale yellow Primeval Flame from an impartial perspective.

He knew very well that this pale yellow Primeval Flame must be the same one that had floated out from the painting back then and had autonomously chosen Angel as its host.

At that time, when others were immobilized and the Primeval Flame chose Angel, that was one thing, but after Angel was taken away by Popota, it didn’t make sense for it to remain with him. Not only did an unconscious Popota urgently need it at the time, but the Lord of the Flameless who followed would not miss such a treasure.

Yet now, the Primeval Flame was still with Angel, which seemed to imply certain things… chilling upon reflection.

Setting aside his numerous doubts for the moment, Sanders continued to inquire about Popota’s situation, “Do you plan to use the Primeval Flame to help Popota, to ignite the ancestral altar of the Baiyuanians?”

“Yes,” Angel didn’t hide the truth.

There was a deep significance in Sanders’s eyes. “Do you realize what the Primeval Flame means to a wizard?”

“I do, but I’m not really helping Popota. Moreover, with Popota’s current strength, he isn’t capable of sensing the existence of the Baiyuan ancestral altar.”

“I was planning to help Dororo.”

Sanders suddenly realized; Dororo was also a Baiyuanian, which was naturally something he knew.

From Dororo’s behavior, as well as his reverence for Angel, it was basically possible to place Dororo in Angel’s circle, meaning that Dororo could also be considered half of the Illusion Demon Island lineage.

Dororo’s prophetic ability was exceptionally strong, not just for Illusion Demon Island, but also extremely useful for the entire Barbarian Cave.

Since Dororo was already extremely close to Angel, and given the favor of lighting the Baiyuan ancestral altar, it was as if Dororo was completely bound to the same warship. This was an extremely fortunate matter, both for Angel and even for Illusion Demon Island.

Although the Primeval Flame was indeed excellent, it ultimately conferred the highest benefits to life forms aligned with the fire element.

And by handing the Primeval Flame to Dororo, Angel was bestowing a tremendous favor upon the Baiyuan Clan. Although currently there were only Dororo and Popota left of the Baiyuan Clan, it was hard to say what the future held.

If the Baiyuan Clan were to rise again, this favor would ensure that Illusion Demon Island would be the biggest winner.

Reflecting on this, Sanders began to agree with Angel’s approach. However, the thought of expending such a precious Primeval Flame, even if it was not his own, still made Sanders wince, after all, the Primeval Flame was something exceedingly rare!

Angel, on the other hand, wasn’t thinking as far ahead as Sanders. He wasn’t so noble as to want to carry the flag for the revival of the Baiyuan Clan, nor was he considering the substantial benefits that might come years later. He simply wanted to help Dororo, and that was all.

Moreover, he had more than one Primeval Flame; the purple and white Primeval Flame was still in his bracelet.

However, he did not reveal the fact that he had the purple and white Primeval Flame in his possession. Even Popota was unaware of this; it was, for the time being, his trump card.

As for whether or not to disclose the matter of Aoluxiya and the Demon God’s corpse later? Angel would not hesitate with this matter – it was of great significance, and it was also the foundation of a series of matters he was going to discuss later. Besides, Popota knew he had the remains, so it was inevitable and cannot be concealed.

“Giving it to Dororo is good, but he’s still a long way from becoming an Official Wizard. You can keep this Primeval Flame for yourself for now and study it during this time. It might help you with your fire-based tricks,” Sanders nodded, endorsing Angel’s decision.

After a pause, Sanders put aside the issue of how to use the Primeval Flame and started to ask why Angel still had the Primeval Flame in his possession.

Sanders spoke with a hint of caution, having a feeling that from this question onward, it was probably going to be like riding a series of roller coasters.

Angel: “The reason Popota did not snatch away the Primeval Flame was that someone intervened en route.”

Sanders’s eyes gleamed with a ghostly light: “The Lord of the Flameless?”

Angel nodded thoughtfully: “Yes, the Lord of the Flameless.”

“Popota’s sudden drop in strength is also due to the Lord of the Flameless?” Sanders asked.

“The main reason is the Lord of the Flameless, but the deeper reason lies in his misjudgment of the Master of the Deep,” Angel went on, recounting the initial battle between Popota and the Lord of the Flameless and then elaborating on the subsequent failure of Popota to obtain what he requested.

“Demon Gods are also life forms that pursue self-interest. They wouldn’t attack another powerful being without any benefits. Popota made a mistake when he chose the Master of the Deep as his support,” Sanders remarked with feeling.

That said, thinking back, would Popota have been able to stir the waters of Lassudral so turbulently on his own strength if not for the Master of the Deep? Perhaps choosing the Master of the Deep was indeed a mistake, but given Popota’s position, his options were actually quite limited.

“What happened next? After the Lord of the Flameless defeated Popota, did he not care about the Primeval Flame on you?”

“I don’t know if he cared about my Primeval Flame, because it was then that Aoluxiya woke up,” Angel said.

Angel paused but did not leave it hanging and continued, “Aoluxiya fought with the Lord of the Flameless. It lost.”

This answer did not surprise Sanders. Even though Angel mentioned that the Lord of the Flameless did not descend in his true form and used an avatar instead, the difference in experience and perspective made him completely overpower Aoluxiya.

“And then?”

“After that, I fought with the Lord of the Flameless.”

Angel’s expression was calm, his gaze undisturbed, yet he spoke of something that sounded to Sanders like a fairy tale.

Sanders swallowed his saliva. Since Angel had fought with the Lord of the Flameless, there must have been an outcome. He was not sure what had become of the Lord of the Flameless, but Angel was standing right in front of him, very much alive.

Sanders hesitated, “And then?”

“I won.”

Sanders: “???”