When Angel entered the Wilderness of Dreams this ti, it was on a whim, mainly to get a definite answer from Cicia. Now that the answer has been obtained, Angel did not choose to return to reality imdiately.
He frowned slightly, and his index finger unconsciously tapped on the tabletop, as if pondering sothing.
After a while, Angel’s figure gradually turned transparent and disappeared. When he reappeared, he had already moved from Pat Manor to the distant New City.
More precisely, it was the Airborne Rose Garden on New City Sky Street.
Ironclad Granny was the sa as before, sitting at a white lacquered carved flower table in the Rose Garden, admiring flowers, drinking tea, and watching the ever-changing New City.
However, unlike before, there was now a stooped and skinny figure sitting across from Ironclad Granny.
Angel didn’t rely on God’s View; just by glancing at the cane beside this stooped figure, he knew her identity.
——"asuring the Starry Sky" Maya. Currently the only prophecy system Official Wizard in Barbarian Cave.
"Ironclad Granny, Maya Witch." Angel gently bowed to the two witches to show his courtesy.
Ironclad Granny tasted her tea and nodded lightly at Angel. Maya Witch, however, slowly stood up, leaning on the cane beside her, and looked at Angel: "Good day."
After speaking, Maya Witch looked back at Ironclad Granny: "Angel probably has sothing to discuss with you, so I’ll take my leave. Granny, you might consider what I said."
Ironclad Granny smiled and nodded: "I will consider it. Also, don’t stay cooped up on Starry Sky Island all the ti; visit the Wilderness of Dreams more often, perhaps it will give you so inspiration."
Maya Witch was silent for a mont, then nodded: "I understand."
With that, Maya Witch leaned on her cane and passed by Angel, disappearing at the end of the Sky Street.
After Maya Witch left, Ironclad Granny indicated for Angel to sit down and talk.
Angel glanced back at the place where Maya Witch disappeared and softly said, "Maya Witch seems a bit troubled."
"Your perception is indeed keen." Even if complinting, Ironclad Granny maintained an elegant deanor.
As the Core Authority Manager of the Wilderness of Dreams, Angel’s initial body condition was similar to others, but his ethereal Hyper Perception was not weakened here in the slightest.
Previously, Maya Witch had given him the impression of being stooped and thin, yet spirited. But today, Maya Witch’s stoop seed more like it was weighed down by heavy burdens. Just passing by her, Angel felt a suffocating oppression.
It was precisely because of this that Angel took the initiative to show concern for Maya Witch’s situation.
Ironclad Granny took a sip of tea and continued: "Since you have detected her trouble, what do you think her trouble might be?"
Angel: "Granny tossed this question to , which suggests her trouble either involves or is within my scope of knowledge... or it was hinted at in the previous conversation between Granny and Maya Witch."
"So what is your answer?"
Angel contemplated seriously for a mont before responding, "I haven’t had any interactions with Maya Witch recently, so her troubles shouldn’t be about . But if they do relate to , could Maya Witch’s trouble be... Dororo?"
Ironclad Granny was about to respond, but Angel continued:
"It might be related to Dororo, but I sense Maya Witch’s steps are too heavy, more likely burdened by her own concerns. Previously, Granny ntioned that Maya Witch should visit the Wilderness of Dreams more to find inspiration... Could it be that Maya Witch has reached a bottleneck and seeks a breakthrough?"
Ironclad Granny waited a few seconds, ensuring Angel had finished speaking before saying, "Your attention to detail is even keener than I imagined."
Beginning with praise naturally ant that Angel’s guess was quite accurate.
And indeed, that was the case.
"Maya Witch ca to with three matters, and you guessed correctly on one and a half of them."
"One... half?" Angel was taken aback for a mont. Does that an sothing incomplete?
"You were right about Dororo. This student, who shone brilliantly on Stargazing Day, has been a source of worry for the Maya Witch. Although Dororo leads a disciplined life every day, the external pressure is all borne by the Maya Witch, which is why she ca to , the first thing she did was to pour out her grievances."
Angel knew that Dororo’s outstanding performance on Stargazing Day would definitely attract attention, but he didn’t expect that even with the Barbarian Cave supporting Maya Witch, she would still feel the pressure. This showed just how much of a stir Dororo had caused.
"As for the second thing, it’s indeed related to Maya Witch herself. She is indeed in urgent need to breakthrough, you are right about that, but it’s not because she’s reached a bottleneck period that she’s choosing to breakthrough."
Angel: "Not for the bottleneck period? Then why breakthrough?"
Ironclad Granny looked at Angel’s serious inquiry, feeling a mix of emotions. Perhaps, only soone like Angel would think of breaking through as soon as they hit a bottleneck... She could even guess Angel’s thoughts: If you’re at a bottleneck and don’t break through, are you just going to waste away?
Angel had his own path of cultivation, but his path was not one that others could refer to. Other people, or rather ninety-nine percent of wizards, do not imdiately seek to break through when encountering a bottleneck. Instead, they let their roots settle, enrich the soil of knowledge, and only then choose the most suitable ti to prepare for a breakthrough. Because rushing into a breakthrough often results in severe injury, with death being the more common outco.
The process of settling one’s roots is calculated in years. Several decades is considered fast, and a hundred years is not unusual.
Only Angel breaks through whenever he faces a bottleneck, and for him, breaking through is a simple matter. Even if stuck at a bottleneck, it only lasts a few months, after which he will turn around and settle his roots.
This approach is completely different from everyone else.
And that’s why Angel would say sothing that outsiders would laugh at, but those who knew the inside story would rely sigh.
"Maya Witch has been in a bottleneck for hundreds of years, and after being guided by your ntor a few years ago, she recently felt the ti was coming and is preparing to breakthrough. This is why she feels so anxious."
"So, I said you only got half right. She is indeed preparing to breakthrough, but not because of the bottleneck. For most wizards, a bottleneck is actually a good thing. It’s a reminder that your roots aren’t deep enough, and rushing the breakthrough would only lead to a tragic outco."
Ironclad Granny gently pointed out the differences between Angel and others, and Angel, who was not stupid, imdiately understood. At the sa ti, he secretly felt grateful. Luckily, it was Ironclad Granny who he was talking to, not an outsider. If it were soone else, they might have already punched him.
Angel didn’t dare to say more about this, quickly changing the topic: "What about the third thing?"
"You didn’t guess the third thing, so I won’t say it. However, the third thing is also troubling, and together with the first thing, they both affect Maya. This also makes her feel pressured about her breakthrough. It’s as if these two things are challenges that specifically appeared to test Maya’s breakthrough."
Angel showed a look of enlightennt. No wonder seeing Maya earlier, she seed heavily pressured, even to the point of suffocation. It’s likely these troubles ca at her all at once, making even Maya feel powerless.
"Did Granny suggest that the Maya Witch visit the Wilderness of Dreams more often because you think her breakthrough opportunity is there?"
Ironclad Granny shook her head: "Of course not."
After speaking, Ironclad Granny put down the teacup in her hand and gazed into the distance at the new city under construction.
"I only wanted her to see these vibrant scenes more often."
"Every birth of a new thing carries a wonderful lody. Just like this gradually perfecting city, just sitting here and quietly watching it, I can feel that kind of joyful rhythm. It’s as if the soul of this city is singing for its own birth."
"These lodies may, for Maya Witch, beco a channel to relieve her pressure. So, I suggested she co here often to see the construction of this city, to feel this gradually perfecting... world."
Ironclad Granny spoke with great emotion. Angel roughly understood the significance, but if he truly observed himself, even if he had so insights, he wouldn’t be able to express them this way.
"Back to you then," Ironclad Granny lanted and looked at Angel: "From your expression, you don’t seem anxious. Your actions are neither hurried nor slow, and you even have the leisure to listen to the Maya Witch matter. So, you probably didn’t face any major issues in the ruins. Does that an you’re here to tell about your adventure in the ruins?"
Returning to the main topic, Angel’s expression beca serious: "If Granny wants to hear a story, it might have to wait a bit longer. We are probably still at the beginning of this story."
"The beginning? Then your exploration isn’t progressing very quickly." Ironclad Granny took a sip of tea and teased, "What, are you stuck on a riddle and ready to ask for help outside?"
Angel nodded sheepishly: "Although it’s not a riddle, I am indeed here to seek Granny’s help."
"Tell about it."
Angel: "I just want Granny to help identify an item."
Angel briefly described his experience in the Underground Aqueduct and then used an Illusion to simulate the four silver tal objects with the Iguro family crest that he collected in the Underground Aqueduct.
Soon after, right in front of Ironclad Granny, he assembled them into a whole, then added a wooden stick below, transforming it into an exquisite and elegant cane.
"This is it."
Ironclad Granny examined it closely: "The carvings on it are indeed the Mongon Clan’s family emblem. Is this your ntor’s cane?"
Angel smiled wryly: "I don’t know if it is. Actually, my purpose here is to ask Granny if she has ever seen my ntor use this cane?"
Ironclad Granny gently shook her head: "This cane should be one Sanders used while he was still an apprentice. At that ti, I didn’t pay much attention to him, so I’m not really familiar with it. However, you can find Kanter and have him relay a ssage to Sanders."
Angel smiled wryly: "I was planning to seek out Lord Kanter, but he wasn’t online. I don’t want to disturb Lord Nami Midori either. Besides, my ntor hasn’t been online for a long ti, presumably busy with matters in the Tidal World. To bother him over such a small thing feels a bit like making a mountain out of a molehill."
"That’s true, this isn’t really a big deal," Ironclad Granny contemplated for a mont: "Since you’re worried about bothering Sanders, let find soone else to help you recognize it."
Having said that, Ironclad Granny took out the Mother Tree Interlinker, connected with soone unknown, and quickly placed the Interlinker down.
"Please wait for a mont, he’s nearby and should be here soon."
While Angel was still guessing who "he" was, a familiar figure appeared in front of him.
"Good Butler?!"
The newcor was none other than the familiar-looking, masked housekeeper of Illusion Demon Island, Good.
"It’s a pleasure to see Young Master Pat here. Hebdon often talks about you; if he were here, he’d surely be more excited than I am."
Angel: "Hebdon often thinks about ? I guess he’s thinking not of , but of the ’Peter Pan’ story’s Shadow Box..."
The voice of Good Butler carried a hint of laughter: "Young Master Pat truly understands Hebdon well."
Angel sighed, choosing not to respond further. Such tales could wait for leisure chats; for now, it was ti to return to the main topic.
Ironclad Granny: "Good has been following Sanders for a long ti and has helped Sanders handle the Mongon Clan’s matters. You can ask Good regarding your question."
Good Butler stood dutifully without asking questions, quietly waiting for Angel to speak.
Angel tapped his fingertip lightly on the table surface; a delicate cane appeared in front of Good Butler.
"Good Butler, have you ever seen my ntor use this kind of cane?"
Good Butler examined it carefully, seemingly recalling sothing, and after a mont of thought, said: "I rember a long ti ago, I went with Lord to handle so matters for the Mongon Clan. Later, in the Mongon Clan’s castle basent, we discovered a newly-built gallery with oil paintings of the Mongon Clan’s past leaders."
"Inside was an only painting not of a clan leader but of the Lord, and it was placed in the most conspicuous position."
Without needing explanation, it was clear Sanders is a Transcendent, naturally revered. Just like the Mongon Clan venerates Moro as a deity.
"The Lord in the painting appeared youthful, wearing a starry moon wizard robe, wielding a beautifully crafted cane, as if casting a spell. The expression was passionate, as if a youth was fighting a dragon, roaring in defiance."
"This image was conceived by a painter of the Mongon Clan. Young Master should know ordinary people always fantasize weirdly about the Transcendent world."
When Good Butler ntioned this, the corners of his mouth beneath the mask involuntarily lifted. Yet, good manners kept his voice steady.
In reality, Good Butler’s subtle behavior could likely go unnoticed, but in the Wilderness of Dreams, both Angel and the perceptive Ironclad Granny could detect his change in mood.
Indeed, it was quite amusing.
Just by imagining, Angel could picture the expression Sanders would have upon seeing the oil painting.
Undoubtedly, a blackened face.
Good Butler paused, collected himself, and continued: "And the cane the Lord holds in the painting is the very cane before us."
Angel: "So this cane exists for real? And it’s my ntor’s?"
Good Butler shook his head: "I don’t know. I haven’t asked Lord about this issue. It’s conceivable the painter imagined the casting scene, but imagining a cane with an explicit family emblem seems unlikely. Thus, it’s likely this cane exists, but whether it’s the Lord’s, I don’t know."
Good Butler’s words were cautious, but Angel felt there was no mistake. This cane must likely be Sanders’.
"Alright, I understand now. Thank you for your trouble, Good Butler."
Good Butler bowed: "Serving Young Master is my honor."
After speaking, Good Butler prepared to leave.
At this mont, Angel called out to him: "By the way, is that painting still with the Mongon Clan?"
Good Butler thought for a mont and replied: "It should still be there?"
The ntor didn’t tear it down? It’s still there?
Angel pondered for a bit, speaking cautiously: "Does the ntor... really like that painting?"
Good Butler shook his head: "Probably not. At that ti, the Lord wanted to burn it. But ultimately, he didn’t."
Angel: "Why?"
Good Butler: "Because it’s not only one painting. The youthful wizard fighting the dragon is part of a series. The underground gallery only houses one, while other series are stored by different branches of the Mongon Clan."
"Oh, and it’s not just the paintings. At the top of the castle hill of the Mongon Clan is a sculpture based on this painting, said to be erected at the highest point to showcase the Mongon Clan’s heritage."
"Because there are so many, completely clearing them would be too ti-consuming, so the Lord didn’t choose to destroy them." Good Butler paused: "But since that day, the Lord hasn’t returned to the Mongon Clan... maybe to avoid seeing all those paintings and sculptures."
After finishing, Good Butler withdrew.
Angel remained, silently for a while. He sowhat understood why Sanders avoided returning to the Mongon Clan; returning would an facing a display of a youthful version of himself and even becoming a public sculpture — practically a social death.
"An interesting story," Ironclad Granny remarked with a soft laugh.
Angel: "Sadly, it’s a story that can’t be casually shared."
Ironclad Granny: "It’s good you understand. When Sanders cos online, do you want to inform him about the cane?"
Angel shook his head: "No, I feel informing the ntor won’t lead to anything good."
"Now that I understand the general situation about the cane, I’ll go offline for now." He waved farewell to Ironclad Granny.
"Go ahead. I’ll be here, always waiting for your stories."
Filled with gratitude, Angel’s form slowly faded away.
Ironclad Granny took a sip of floral tea, enjoying her leisure with closed eyes.
Monts later, she suddenly opened her eyes.
In her mind during her restful mont, a flash of inspiration made her recall sothing.
"I think Angel ntioned a na earlier... Cicia?"
"This na sounds familiar, where have I heard it before?"
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