The Yellow-Haired Villain in Soaring Phoenix's Novels Also Desires Happiness Chapter 506.2: The Child

The two of them walked toward the wrecked depths of the room, their attention first falling on the inconspicuous ditation cushion.

King Yintuo had been sitting on it just now, and according to his own words, that avatar seed to be anchored to this cushion, unable to stray too far from it.

“This is a rather fine magical tool.”

Celicia picked it up and examined it carefully in her hand.

“It contains powerful mana. It was likely supplying power to that avatar. After all, this place is completely isolated from the outside. His true body has no way to provide any support to his avatar here.”

“Mana?”

Muen questioned:

“Isn’t King Yintuo a pure martial artist? At least I never saw him use magic. If this thing contains mana, can that even work?”

“Of course. Mana is the foundation of all things in the world, and battle-qi is rely a special force derived from the human body. Mana can be stored long-term through special magic stones and arrays, but once battle-qi leaves the body, it dissipates quickly.”

Celicia answered:

“To sustain flesh with mana and then derive mana from flesh—this is one of the basic principles of the puppet-magic system. You didn’t know?”

“My magic fundantals haven’t reached that point yet, third-year Senior.”

“Being called ‘Senior’ by you gives an inexplicable sense of displeasure.”

Celicia shot him a cold glare, then weighed the cushion in her hand.

“Do you want it? A magic tool capable of supporting a Fifth Rank avatar isn’t cheap.”

“No thanks. Sothing an old man sat on? I’m not exactly interested.”

Muen shrugged in distaste.

“Fair enough.”

Without a hint of hesitation, Celicia froze the cushion solid and crushed it into icy flakes.

“Let’s go. We’ve wasted enough ti.”

“Alright.”

They didn’t stay any longer. Following the wall behind where King Yintuo had been sitting, they searched along it, and eventually found a hidden door in an inconspicuous spot.

This ti, unlike earlier where Muen had to read soul-information, the wall had already been damaged from the recent battle. The door revealed itself naturally, costing them almost no effort.

And realistically, at this stage, even if the enemy was overly cautious, they wouldn’t be wasting effort on concealnt anymore.

The door was quickly opened. Even intact doors couldn’t stop Muen for more than a few minutes, let alone this battered thing.

The two exchanged a glance and stepped into the darkness.

Once so mana recovered, firefly-like points of light floated once more ahead of them, illuminating the path.

Celicia shot a long, quiet glance at the little light. Walking this far, she had realized this illumination spell—mocked by the entire Academy for being the only one Muen mastered during his whole first sester—was undeniably convenient.

“Be careful.”

Celicia raised a hand to signal.

Before them lay yet another deep, pitch-black corridor, destination unknown.

But from the faint airflow and a subtle strange odor, she deduced they were very close to their goal.

“Want to go first?”

Muen wiggled his eyebrows at her.

“Behave.”

Celicia replied with the sa cold gaze.

They continued forward. Though their steps looked light and casual, both had already raised their guard.

Even if King Yintuo was dead, in such an unknown place, neither knew what kind of monsters might erge at any mont.

They had already tasted the bitter fruit of relaxing their guard—neither would repeat that mistake.

...

Sure enough, before long, when they pried open another door, flickering light overwheld the glow of the illumination spell.

Lighting magic stones lined the walls on both sides, proving this place had long been inhabited. And the slender pipes running discreetly along the corners, shimring with faint mana, proved this facility was far more than a simple food-processing factory.

“What’s that sll?”

As soon as Celicia entered, she frowned slightly and covered her nose.

“So kind of potion, I think.”

Muen pinched his nose as well. The pungent, overwhelming odor reminded him of disinfectant from the hospitals of his previous life—only far stronger, almost nauseating.

They exchanged a glance and saw the sa suspicion in each other’s eyes.

Continuing down the path, lights flickered overhead, but they saw no one. Debris and papers were scattered on the floor. A cup of spilled coffee, still faintly steaming, stained the tiles.

“Looks like they ran in a hurry.”

Muen bent down and picked up a sheet of paper. Scribbled all over it were dense calculations that instantly reminded him of the terror once inflicted upon him by advanced mathematics.

Damn it—had the mathematics of this world really evolved this far?

But when he looked more closely, he realized—only superficially similar. The formulas were entirely foreign, utterly different from the ones he knew in his past life.

“What is this? I can’t understand any of it.”

He quickly handed the paper to Celicia.

She scanned it, then shook her head slightly.

“I don’t really understand it either. But it seems to be calculating dosages of so kind.”

“Dosage?”

“Probably for creating so kind of drug.”

Celicia looked around.

“Drug...”

Muen murmured, a cold glint flickering deep in his eyes.

He seed to recall sothing, but before he could think further, a faint sound from the shadows snapped him back into alertness.

“Who’s there?”

Muen drew his blade in a sweeping strike. The sharp arc of the weapon cut through the darkness.

But whatever lurked there was even faster than he expected. In a flash, it evaded the blade and rushed toward him at high speed.

Interesting.

Muen’s expression hardened. {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} He stopped holding back—rumbling thunder infused the pure-white blade as he locked onto a figure only about knee-high.

But just as the strike was about to fall, Muen’s hand suddenly stopped.

His eyes widened a little, stunned by what ran out of the darkness.

It was... a child.

At least, judging purely from the face, it was a child.

Probably five or six years old. A round, plump little face still carrying the innocence unique to children.

But the lower half of its body was sewn onto so twisted, grotesque creature. Six segnted legs—like those of a spider—tapped rapidly across the floor. It was because of those legs that the child could move so quickly.

One of the child’s hands was small and delicate like any normal kid’s, waving helplessly. But the other... wasn’t even a hand. It was a scythe-like chitinous limb.

And right now, he wasn’t attacking Muen.

Instead, that slightly longer scythe-limb was scratching awkwardly at Muen’s pant leg.

Like a frightened, desperate child trying with all his might to grab onto sothing that made him feel safe.

But a sharp scythe couldn’t grasp anything.

“You... I...”

The child’s voice was unbearably tender, tears welling in his confused eyes.

“I... Big Brother... I’m hungry...”