Chapter 35: Reappearance

Chapter 35: Reappearance

Withered yellow vines hung down, covering the decayed wooden buildings. The entire ruin seemed frozen in a dull silence, as if no one had set foot here for a very long time.

In the desolate winter environment, Alger and several sailors circled through the ruin for a while, but they still did not discover anything of value.

“Captain, one batch of adventurers after another has been here. What could possibly be left for us?” Finally, one sailor in his thirties, whose patience was wearing thin, broke the silence.

His words immediately drew agreement from the others.

“If we could find out about this place so easily, others definitely could too.”

“Exactly. We might as well go back to dealing with the Feysacians!”

“Captain, are you trying to turn this place into a base?”

Alger slowly swept his gaze over them. Under that look, the sailors stopped complaining and chose obedience.

After several seconds of silence, he finally spoke.

“I intend to use this place to ambush Feysacians.

“First, we observe the terrain and see whether it is suitable.”

With that excuse, the sailors reluctantly pulled themselves together. Before long, the group entered the deeper parts of the elven ruin.

As they walked, Alger’s spirituality was suddenly stirred. Almost instinctively, he turned his head and looked behind a giant tree.

The soil there showed faint signs of having been turned over, and it had happened no more than a year ago.

Alger withdrew his gaze and, pretending not to have noticed anything, naturally looked elsewhere.

After finishing their exploration of the elven ruin, they returned all the way to their new camp.

By then, evening was approaching. The forest grew colder and colder. After Alger and the sailors finished dinner, they left two men on patrol while the rest entered separate tents.

The bitter wind whistled through the trees, making the campfire sway. Alger, who had already intended to leave the camp in the middle of the night, suddenly heard a faint song coming from far away.

The song was ethereal and airy, like a lady softly singing, pouring out the sorrows in her heart.

Alger involuntarily recalled the past. He recalled his mother, who had passed away many years ago. He recalled the childhood in which he had suffered bullying.

Indescribable sorrow surged uncontrollably from the depths of his heart. For a few seconds, he failed to wake from it. Only then did he abruptly flip over and sit up, brows tightly furrowed as he strained to listen.

This time, he heard nothing. That melodious song seemed never to have appeared at all.

Alger narrowed his eyes, grabbed a thick jacket, draped it over himself, and stepped out of the tent to the side of the campfire.

The two sailors on night watch had just finished a round of patrol and were warming themselves there.

“Did you discover anything abnormal?” Alger asked in a low voice.

The two strong, capable sailors shook their heads at the same time.

“No.”

Alger’s brows relaxed slightly. He turned around, planning to patrol the area personally.

Just then, from the corner of his eye, he noticed something:

The two sailors were standing too close together.

If these were ordinary pirates, that would not be much of an issue. But Alger’s subordinates were sailors who had received formal training from the Church of Storms. They certainly knew that, in such an environment, patrolmen needed to maintain an appropriate distance between one another. They could not be too far apart, nor too close. They had to be able to see their companions, yet also avoid being taken down together by a single attack.

Alger calmly took two steps forward, then looked back in an apparently casual manner and asked, “Did you discover anything normal?”

He slightly altered his previous question, making it sound extremely strange.

The two sturdy sailors shook their heads without any gap between them, their expressions unchanged as they answered, “No.”

No… Alger’s expression eased, and he nodded gently.

“Very good.”

He then turned and slowly walked back into his tent.

The moment the sailors’ gazes were cut off, Alger abruptly pulled out the Blade of Poison and Gargoyle Glasses, then opened his mouth, preparing to sing.

Just then, the ethereal, sorrowful song appeared again. This time, it echoed directly beside Alger’s ear, stabbing into his mind.

It was an exceedingly ancient ballad, singing of sorrow and melancholy pushed to the extreme. Alger felt as though one pale, illusory arm after another had grown inside his spirit body, constantly tearing at him.

His expression twisted. Slick, pale-black fish scales emerged across his skin. His deep-blue hair, as disorderly as seaweed, stood up strand by strand, each becoming abnormally thick.

The thoughts that had originally existed in his mind were disturbed by the singing and interrupted by the pain. They could no longer take form.

Alger collapsed to the ground. He struggled and writhed, looking less and less human, drawing closer and closer to losing control.

Suddenly, the song stopped. A slightly indifferent voice entered Alger’s ears.

“Some elven blood…

“Then let it be so. Make good use of Shatas’s Beyonder characteristic.”

Alger slowly climbed to his feet, his forehead covered in cold sweat. Only then did he see that, at some point, a figure had appeared inside the tent.

It was a woman. Her hair was glossy black, her features exquisite, her ears slightly pointed, her eyes deep and secluded, and the contours of her face soft. She wore a complicated, ancient-style long dress. Even without any advantage in height, she still gave the impression of looking down from above.

“…You are the Elf Queen, the Queen of Calamity, Cohinem?” Alger’s thoughts flashed, and he took the initiative to ask.

That woman toyed with an exquisitely patterned golden wine cup and said flatly, “Have you not already seen me?”

Alger immediately remembered the similar song he had once heard on Pasu Island. He remembered entering an underwater coral palace in a dream and seeing a high-ranking elf there.

“You are actually still alive.” After several seconds of silence, Alger spoke in a low voice.

At the same time, he quietly recited Mr. Fool’s honorific name in his heart, though he did not know whether it would work without speaking aloud.

The black-haired woman, whose hair was coiled into a high bun, showed no change in expression as she replied, “If one does not encounter enemies, it is very difficult for an angel to die.”

“Then why did you divide your characteristic and place yourself in a strange state where you must wait for an opportunity to revive?” Alger had learned about the corresponding situation in the Tarot Club. He asked partly out of curiosity and partly to buy time.

The elf woman, who was suspected to be the Queen of Calamity Cohinem, gave a cold snort.

“Because Storm’s divine seat has been occupied by Leodero, and I am powerless to resist the Tyrant.

“Furthermore, the elves have become fewer and fewer, and my anchors have grown increasingly unstable.”

Others might not know who Leodero was, but Alger was very clear. He absolutely did not dare continue this topic in the real world.

Just as he was about to ask what purpose the Queen of Calamity Cohinem had in descending here, the Elf Queen had already taken the initiative to speak.

“Do you want to become a demigod?”

She wants to use my body to revive? She wants to tempt me with advancement to Sequence 4 and divinity so she can corrode me? While Alger’s heart stirred, one question after another surfaced in his mind.

Considering that Mr. Fool could purify all kinds of corruption, Alger sharply sensed that this was an opportunity.

It reminded him of a term Emperor Roselle had once proposed:

Sugar-coated cannonball!

And right now, there was a real possibility that he could swallow the sugar coating and throw the cannonball back.

“What do you want me to do?” Alger did not appear overly eager. He raised the question according to his own personality.

The Queen of Calamity Cohinem studied him for several seconds, then said, “When you have the qualification and opportunity to touch the Book of Calamity, take something from inside it—something no one else will notice—and bring it to the Western Continent.”

The Western Continent… the legendary homeland of the elves? Alger frowned slightly and said, “Has the Western Continent not already disappeared?”

Cohinem’s lips curved faintly.

“Since it has disappeared, it will reappear.

“When the apocalypse arrives, it will certainly reappear.”

Without waiting for Alger to ask again, the Elf Queen paused, then said, “You do not need to personally deliver that thing to the Western Continent, but you must entrust it to someone trustworthy. Although I am not skilled in curses, I can still make you die in agony after breaking the agreement.”

“But what if the Western Continent never reappears, or cannot be entered?” Alger thought about it seriously and asked.

The black-haired, gentle-featured Cohinem’s gaze grew slightly distant, as though she had fallen into some pleasant memory.

After several seconds, she calmly said, “If it truly does not reappear, then the agreement is void.

“Entering the Western Continent may truly require an incantation or password, but I do not know what it is. However, you can ask a certain existence.”

“Which one?” Alger asked, full of doubt.

Cohinem glanced at him and said coldly, “The Mr. Fool whose honorific name you recited silently just now.

“I have a premonition that whether this matter can be completed depends on Him.”

Alger’s heart tightened. He hurriedly lowered his head and responded, “I understand.”

Seeing this, the Queen of Calamity Cohinem nodded gently.

“If you wish to become a demigod and fulfill this agreement, then when the sun rises, go to that elven ruin.”

As soon as her voice fell, the Elf Queen’s figure rapidly scattered, like the mirages often seen upon the sea and desert.

Alger abruptly opened his eyes and discovered that he was lying inside his tent, having just woken up.

His memories were somewhat muddled, but he quickly sorted out the sequence of events:

He and his sailors had only just found out where an elven ruin was located and had arrived nearby. They had not yet had time to explore it.

The earlier “exploration,” the song, the sailors’ abnormality, the Queen of Calamity’s appearance, and their conversation had all been a dream!

No wonder I was so careless… I knew I might encounter the Queen of Calamity, yet I did not pray to Mr. Fool beforehand… Did the Queen of Calamity create this realistic dream through her angelic status? Or does she possess some corresponding sealed artifact, allowing her to borrow power even while existing in a special state? Alger listened carefully to the movement outside the tent and found that everything was normal.

He immediately sat up and devoutly prayed to Mr. Fool.

Within twenty to thirty seconds, Alger arrived above the gray fog and saw Mr. Fool seated at the very top of the mottled long table.

“You saw Cohinem?” After The Hanged Man greeted Him, The Fool Klein spoke as though asking casually.

The Hanged Man Alger answered rigorously, “Yes, but I cannot be certain that it was truly the Elf Queen.”