Warlock Apprentice
Chapter 1691: Section 1692: The Long-Lost Person

Chapter 1691: Section 1692: The Long-Lost Person

After speaking, he no longer paid attention to the young man who wanted to purchase the Demon Flower Sprite Demon Bloodstone, burying himself once more in the pages of the yellowed book in his hands. However, before he could immerse himself in the world depicted by the text, he was startled again by movement from the outside.

He abruptly raised his head.

"Why..." Had he just felt the oppressive presence of a Wizard?

At that very moment, a terrifying aura swept over him, causing his entire body to shudder. Though it lasted only for an instant, it was as if he were standing at the towering Tamagan peak, gazing up at the summit, and realizing just how small and insignificant he was.

Even now, his back felt chillingly cold.

Which Wizard cast their gaze upon him? Was it accidental or deliberate?

Fear flickered in his eyes as he tried to discern the cause of the disturbance. Yet, after searching for a long time, he found no clues—until he perceived a familiar, indifferent gaze within the realm of spiritual power.

It was none other than the young man standing before him, the one seeking to purchase the Demon Flower Sprite Demon Bloodstone.

Though the Wizard’s oppressive force had dissipated, the gaze felt like a sharp, icy blade plunging into his spiritual core, leaving him as though plunged into a frigid abyss.

As his skin began to freeze, the man trembled and stammered, his voice shaking: "You... you’re... a Wizard?"

Angel didn’t initially intend to exert his power to intimidate, but the Demon Flower Sprite Demon Bloodstone was crucial to Toby’s Extreme Resentment Tribulation—he had no choice but to push it this far.

Faced with the man’s question, Angel didn’t respond. Instead, he slowly retracted the Disguise Technique cloaking his presence, revealing his true appearance.

That iconic, slightly curly golden hair, along with eyes as brilliant as the midsummer sky—all unmistakably confirmed his identity.

The man lowered his gaze to the magazine lying on the table’s opposite side—"True Aeons." It was one of the most influential publications within Sky Mechanical City, although it couldn’t yet rival the "Forest of Time" from the City of Truth. Nevertheless, its credibility remained undisputed.

The latest annual issue of "True Aeons" featured, on its cover, the image of a golden-haired man standing deep in the night, gazing toward the first sunrise. Though only his profile was displayed, anyone who had seen it could never mistake it.

The man depicted on that cover was the same young man now standing before him, seeking to buy the Demon Flower Sprite Demon Bloodstone!

It was the Wizard who currently stood at the pinnacle of public attention—a rising figure of unparalleled renown!

"You’re..." The man swallowed hard, his mouth dry, the Wizard’s name stuck in his throat. Before he could voice it, another person called out loudly.

"Eh, Lord Pat?!" came the exclamation from the doorway.

Angel heard it too, and for some reason, the voice felt oddly familiar. When he turned to look, his expression froze. The speaker was someone he genuinely recognized.

At the entrance to the Breeze Demonic Material Shop stood two individuals.

One was a youth, wearing a pale gold outer garment. His figure appeared thin and frail, and he sported a pair of glasses, exuding a scholarly air.

No one would likely dare to call him a bookworm now, though. Despite his harmless appearance, he was the recent champion of the New Star Tournament—the "Philosopher" Onassis.

As for the other individual, he was the one who had spoken.

This man was rugged and well-built, his muscles visibly pronounced. What stood out most, however, was his lower half—having the legs of a horse rather than a human, and adorned with a dark, faintly luminous scorpion tail.

He resembled the mythical Magical Creature—the centaur, yet he was clearly distinct, as centaurs didn’t possess scorpion tails.

This scorpion tail was undoubtedly artificially transplanted. In fact, his entire equine lower body, along with the hands covered by leather gloves, had been artificially grafted from other beings.

Angel wasn’t unfamiliar with this man.

—Viking.

The very man who had ventured deep into the Altar of Demise, even after both his arms and legs had been destroyed in the Purification Garden due to betrayal by Single-leaf Luo.

"Lord Pat!" Viking’s excitement upon seeing Angel was palpable. He struggled to contain himself, barely managing to prevent his hooves from prancing in joy. Yet, the tremors in his movements betrayed his uncontained enthusiasm.

Back in the Purification Garden, Viking had shielded Single-leaf Luo from a fire-breathing flying fish, sustaining injuries that left all four limbs burned away. Despite his best efforts to protect his companion, Single-leaf Luo showed no gratitude, abandoning Viking to fend for himself in the wilderness.

At that time, Viking was left limbless, hemorrhaging blood, and drained of Magical Core energy. Without aid, death seemed inevitable.

Angel had been secretly observing from the shadows. Though he hadn’t provided comprehensive assistance, he had cast a Healing Technique on Viking before departing, staunching his bleeding and staving off immediate death.

Even with his wounds treated, Angel had assumed Viking would likely meet his end amid the hazards of the Purification Garden, given his lack of limbs.

Yet, against all odds, Viking survived.

Standing now before Angel, Viking’s face was alight with barely-contained excitement. He struggled to find the words to express himself, stammering for a long time before finally speaking: "Lord Pat, I never imagined our first proper meeting would be here. I... I’d even written an official invitation, intending to formally thank you."

Angel remained silent, prompting Viking to ramble on: "After the Purification Garden incident, I caught wind of your voice. At that moment, I realized it was you who saved me."

"Did you receive my letter? I visited your manor outside Sky Mechanical City back then, but your butler said you weren’t home, so I left a letter behind."

Seeing Viking’s eager gaze fixed on him, Angel nodded: "I received it. Your memory for voices is certainly strong. Still, what I did was only stopping your bleeding; it can hardly be considered saving you. You surviving was ultimately due to your own perseverance."

Viking became even more impassioned upon hearing Angel affirm his role. "If not for you stopping my bleeding back then, it’s unlikely I would have made it. To you, it might have been a casual gesture, but for me..."

"It was the only glimmer of light I could see in the boundless darkness."

Viking’s words drew him back into vivid recollection of those desperate moments. His body was ravaged, teetering on the brink of death. Worse, Single-leaf Luo’s betrayal plunged him into indescribable despair. Darkness enveloped him entirely—until Angel cast the Healing Technique, pulling him momentarily from the abyss.

Back then, Viking had asked who his savior was.

Angel’s reply: "A passerby."

Though the reply was reticent, Viking had never forgotten that cold yet resolute voice that rescued him from death’s grasp.

Perhaps Viking’s recounting was overly sentimental, or perhaps it was for another reason, but for a brief moment, the atmosphere grew uncomfortably heavy.

Viking remained caught in his memories, until the silence was broken by Onassis’s voice: "I originally thought that the next time I met Lord Pat, it would be to show him the beauty of the Cloud Vine Flower blooming. Yet, I never expected to meet him again so soon..."

Pausing, Onassis lowered his head, murmuring to himself, almost inaudibly: "The Cloud Vine Flower... hasn’t bloomed yet."

Watching Onassis’s expression dim with disappointment, Angel couldn’t help but crack a smile.

"Encounters are always a matter of chance. If you insist on adhering to philosophical notions of purposeful meeting, you might as well pretend that today never happened—that we never met."

Onassis choked on his words, unsure how to respond. Ultimately, he shifted his focus: "Lord, did you come here to buy materials?"

Onassis’s inquiry snapped Viking out of his reverie. His head suddenly shot up: "Lord, are you here to buy materials?"