Ethan's POV
However, I avoided explaining the details about that floating washbasin in the dark and the grotesque devil mask floating in it.
I felt apprehensive about ntioning them to her as they were too mysterious, and I knew little to nothing about them.
The vague information I had received from the Eterna Nexus hinted that the washbasin was a crystallized soul fragnt of sothing ancient but it didn't make it clear to who that was.
It had warned that knowing more would be truly detrintal to my existence, so I refrained from sharing that ominous detail with Virelle.
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But I think I should tell Master Nyx about them.
Suddenly, the strict yet loving face of Master Nyx flashed in my mind, and a longing to see her and to rest my face against her comforting and squishy breasts surged within .
Where are you, Master? I thought with a worried heart as I knew that she had gone sowhere to find a cure for my unconsciousness. But I was awake and fine now.
I have to ask the little duchess about where Master has gone today itself. I can't delay it anymore. I decided with determination but Virelle's distant calling interrupted my thoughts.
"Brother Ethan...Brother Ethan ...are you even listening to ?"
She had an annoyed expression and I corrected my lost expression and smiled apologetically at her. She pouted a bit but continued her words.
"I still can't fathom how your soul traveled to the mythical Astral Realm after your experience with the mory fragnt contained in the wolf's head."
Her words snapped to attention, and one particular phrase echoed in my mind persistently.
"mory fragnt in the wolf head? What do you an by that, Virelle?"
She hesitated as her gaze continued flickering with a shadow of uncertainty. The flicker was brief but telling as if she had unveiled sothing she was nervous about explaining to .
"Brother Ethan," she began softly and her voice laced was with a solemnity that made the air feel heavier.
"the wolf head in the room above us... it is not rely a lifeless relic. In the annals of our ancient texts, such artifacts are often described as vessels and containers that hold fragnted mories and lingering curses which are remnants left behind by beings of imnse power or those consud by profound resentnt at the ti of their death.
They act as conduits that preserve echoes of battles long past with their emotions carved deep into the fabric of ti, and sotis even their fragnts of consciousness itself."
She paused and her eyes drifted as if she was sifting through layers of forgotten lore. Then, almost as if it were an afterthought she added,
"Ah, Brother Ethan, I forgot you are not from the Blood Veil Continent. You see, here when an expert whose strength reaches the Sky Realm dies, they can leave behind a crystallized mory fragnt.
This fragnt encapsulates the most pivotal monts and experiences of their whole life and serves as an invaluable guide for their descendants.
It is a tradition woven into the very fabric of our existence and a ans to ensure that the legacy of our strength and wisdom is never lost.
If all the formidable mbers of a race adhere to this practice, even after their passing they can ensure that their lineage may never face the peril of a lost inheritance.
So embed within these fragnts their most glorious battles where they showcased the masterful wielding of their racial bloodline abilities and soul arts.
Others choose to preserve their experiences of critical junctures when they stood on the precipice of ascending to higher realms like the Heaven Connection and those below it.
The demand for such profound experiences never wanes but it only grows in our world, and you know I am talking about not just within the confines of the Blood Veil Continent."
Her words hung in the air and I enriched my knowledge about the racial customs and ways of the Blood Veil Continent's society.
She exhaled softly and hearing her voice, I could tell that her thoughts were drifting.
"I never suspected that nondescript wolf head contained a mory fragnt of such value. Yet, it clearly isn't from a werewolf as werewolves lack the ability to fully transform into the beast form of giant wolves.
Could that head belong to a rare breed of wolf beast that bore witness to the legendary battle that Brother Ethan described, and survived to carry its tale?"
She seed to forget my presence as her body relaxed against and her back pressed to my chest as she lost herself in contemplation.
A soft and steady rhythm of her breath mingled with mine. I was a little annoyed at her daydreaming and to pull her from her reverie, a wicked thought crossed my mind which was unbidden and impossible to resist.
I reached out with my hands and found the soft heavy weight of her breasts. They spilled over my palms as they were too big to be contained within my palms and their warmth seeped into my skin.
Before she could react, I abruptly pinched her nipples between my fingers and started rolling them with deliberate precision. A sharp and raw moan tore from her throat involuntarily as she instinctively covered her mouth with her right hand to stop her moan.
Her head snapped toward and her eyes blazed with a mix of mock indignation and also sothing darker and far more intoxicating.
Seduction simred beneath its surface and I took it as a challenge and an invitation all at once. My lips curled into a wicked grin, and I closed the distance between us as I captured her mouth in a searing kiss.
Her muffled moan vibrated against my lips but it was no less potent than her raw one. My arm snaked around her waist as I pulled her tightly against while my other hand cradled the back of her head and kept her locked in place.
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