Super Righteous Player
Chapter 855 - 393: The Paradoxical Fire Girl

Chapter 855: Chapter 393: The Paradoxical Fire Girl

"The Dancer of Death’s Throat," this Divine Art, Xitan Pulan was bound to acquire sooner or later, but not now.

It was one of the key ability branches of the Half-Dead Woman.

This Divine Art, by emulating the concept of "The Pale Princess and Her Lover," anchored a willing spirit to serve as one’s "Dance Partner."

Many of the crucial abilities in the later stages for the Half-Dead Woman were related to her dance partner.

Be it swapping places with the dance partner, exchanging states; or letting the dance partner control one’s body after entering a spiritual state. One could also use the dance partner as a "casting base station," to extend the range of spellcasting indirectly by casting through the dance partner.

It’s like the relationship between a Hunter and their pet... A Hunter without a pet is soulless.

It’s just that because of the limited holy marks of Xitan Pulan, she had to prioritize exchanging for healing and support abilities—after all, there were too few healers among the players. Even without a dance partner, she would be less agile at most... but if she didn’t exchange for healing abilities, that would mean one less key healer.

"Unless something unexpected happens," Kafney recalled, "she should be able to come in two months."

In fact, Lin Yiyi had said that Xitan Pulan would make a trip by the end of this month.

But that was what Lin Yiyi had said, and Kafney couldn’t be certain. So when she said this, she left a little leeway—just in case something unexpected happened that prevented Xitan Pulan from coming... so as not to disappoint this self-conscious little miss ghost.

If Xitan Pulan could come earlier, that would be a pleasant surprise.

If she really forgot or had an emergency, Kafney could also let Lin Yiyi remind her.

Bofis simply nodded earnestly, "I will wait for her."

"Are you sure she’s Bofis?"

Salvatore, who had been holding back, finally couldn’t help but ask, "They didn’t tell us what she looked like, right?"

He had become tense upon seeing Bofis, his spine involuntarily stiffening.

Salvatore wasn’t scared of mindless souls wandering, or spirits controlled by Soul Reaping Wizards.

But with a talking, self-aware ghost like this, he felt an inexplicable fear.

It wasn’t a fear of ghosts, but he just couldn’t articulate the feeling...

"We haven’t seen her."

The girls exchanged glances before Bofis spoke first.

She drifted forward a few steps, causing Salvatore to move his head backward, which in turn almost made Bofis laugh out loud.

She cleared her throat softly, suppressing her urge to laugh, and said sternly, "My name is Bofis Cecilia.

"Indeed, I was an Elf that once existed here, but the segment of history I was part of got sealed away right as I happened to be absent. Thus, I became the only disembodied ghost not kept in the specimen archives... I’ve stayed here, unseen by anyone."

Except for those with professions related to spirit abilities.

Only silver-tier Transcendents could notice her.

A flicker of loneliness crossed her face for a moment.

But soon, Bofis adopted an optimistic smile, "I once wished to die, but now I’ve decided—I want to be Xitan Pulan’s dance partner.

"I want to leave this place... and continue to live, a thousand years after the era I once existed in.

"Even if this state of being hardly counts as living—I don’t want to fade into nothingness without leaving anything behind."

Bofis placed her hand over her heart, speaking earnestly, "If that’s the case, my thousand years of loneliness... would have all been in vain. I at least want to leave a mark, save someone, ideally defeating some grand demon that threatens to destroy the world and leave behind a name that’s truly mine.

"Not a name like ’Bofis, an Elf who died here’ but a real one—my own name."

"Have you thought it through?"

Kafney couldn’t help but say, "Once you step onto that path... fear, sadness, frustration—such things can be far greater than any other road."

She saw a vague reflection of herself in Bofis.

It was not so much similarity as aspiration.

Kafney’s thoughts today were similar to Bofis’s. If Annan wished to become a person of Justice, then she would become a companion of Justice—she could walk steadfastly on the path of righteousness, undeterred by any price that must be paid.

But she thought this way because Annan was there.

But if she herself was locked here, enduring a lonely thousand years... could she really still harbor such pure thoughts?

Could she really still want to save people, rather than harm them?

Kafney was somewhat moved by this sincere kindness.

She couldn’t help but say softly, "There is nothing bad about leaving this place. But if you want to walk that path... you might regret it."

"I have thought it through, this is what I want," Bofis Cecilia answered firmly, "The more I think about how I have lived for so long without reason, the more I feel I should not die easily—my soul’s existence for a thousand years was an absolute accident.

"But if anyone wants to lock me in some little box, to preserve me like a collectible... I absolutely do not want to live that kind of life!

"I no longer want to be a ghost... I want to die, but not a peaceful, oblivious death. I want a heroic death—if this thousand years of loneliness was not some foolish event of ’being abandoned,’ but rather for awaiting a future hero to save the world... then I could be satisfied!"

Even though it was their first meeting, Bofis Cecilia could express her thoughts without hesitation.

If she were still alive, she would certainly be shy about such generous and passionate speech.

But she had been dead for so long that she would not hesitate over such words anymore.

Maria was also moved by her speech.

But she suddenly paused, as if remembering something, and asked, "You said... what is your name?"

"I am Bofis! Bofis Cecilia."

Bofis’s voice was ethereal and pleasant, "My mother is Atalante Cecilia."

"Atalante..."

Maria murmured.

She suddenly asked, "Cecilia... what does it mean in the language of the Elves?"

"Cecilia means ’The Blind’," Bofis answered swiftly, "Because our ancestors swore... not to take up the bow and become Hunters. We would blind our eyes and become Fire Priestesses, guardians of the great fire of the Forefather.

"’I shall carry a sword and wait,’ ’I shall blind myself to tend the fire,’ ’I shall die, and return [what was borrowed].’"

She recited these words gravely and seriously in the Elves’ language.

But Maria kept repeating the name to herself.

"The Blind... Forefather’s Fire Priestess..."

Her expression gradually became serious, "Your mother... did she ever go to Winter?"

"...Winter?"

Bofis seemed a little confused, "Isn’t that where the Frostspeakers live? Come to think of it, there are some Frostspeakers here too."

"If I am not mistaken, your mother did not enter into this specimen vault either... right?"

Maria proceeded to ask slowly.

Bofis hesitated for a moment, then her expression suddenly brightened, "Have you heard of my mother?!"

"...Elves possess the custom of serving the Dragon Race, much like the centaurs serve the Elves.

"There was a legend of a Legion Commander in the Storm Legion who embarked on the path of a Saint. She gained the recognition of the Heart of Justice and became the Justice Saint of her era.

"After becoming a Saint, she forsook the path of the great fire, went to the Ducal State of Winter, and began serving the old grandmother’s path of Winter.

"With the power of the Endless Storm, she directly assumed the guardianship of the then uninheritable Tower of the Storm, becoming the ninth guardian of the Tower of the Storm. And with the last ’Duke of the Frost Speech,’ she gave birth to the first ’Duke of Winter.’

"...She might be, an ancestor of mine and Annan’s."

Maria spoke slowly, "The legendary ’Heretic of Fire,’ Atalante Rinwinter."