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Chapter 1052: Night in the Painting
Angel explained the purpose of his visit, and Night was not too surprised that Angel returned the undying flaming bones’ coin to him.
After accepting the Demon Gold Coins returned by Angel, Night nodded, “I can help you contact the seller right now. If you’re not in a hurry, you can wait for me here.”
Having said that, Night stood up, preparing to leave.
Just before Night’s figure disappeared, Angel suddenly asked, “Museum master Night, why do you trust me so much?”
Night turned around, looking at Angel.
Angel continued speaking on his own, “Since I met you the day before yesterday, it seems that you have never doubted anything I said. If it were me meeting a stranger who brought a message, even with Odecla.s.s’s mark, I would have confirmed it repeatedly. But Master Night, why are you so certain that what I say is true?”
Night was silent for a moment, then said softly, “Not to mention the Flame Mark on your earlobes, just Fafnir being by your side is enough to prove that you are not lying. Of course, that’s not the reason I’m helping you.”
“I’m helping you simply because you are a human.”
“A human?” Angel was taken aback; he had not expected such an answer.
“It’s not just because you are a human, but because you are the first human who has come to me in the name of Feng,” Night finished, then added faintly, “If you want to know anything else, you can go to the Exhibition Hall and look at that painting.”
After leaving these words behind, Night’s body slowly faded into the darkness and finally disappeared from view.
After hesitating for a moment, Angel left the reception hall and headed towards the Exhibition Hall.
Come to think of it, not only was he curious about who “Feng” was, but so was Fafnir.
When Fafnir first learned that Odecla.s.s had entrusted him with this task, he too had questioned why. After Angel had told him the truth, Fafnir a.n.a.lyzed and concluded that many of the facts were consistent with Odecla.s.s’s actions, but there was one variable that Fafnir had not antic.i.p.ated: Feng.
Originally, after arriving in La.s.sudral, Fafnir had intended to ask Night about Feng’s ident.i.ty. But after meeting Night, Fafnir was too wary of him to bring up the question.
After going around in circles, Angel, in fact, had come closer to the answer regarding Feng’s ident.i.ty.
Angel returned to the Exhibition Hall, ignoring the specimens of rare hunting trophies; he went straight to the front of the painting.
Upon closer inspection, that sense of restlessness suppressed under the quiet night felt even heavier.
As he looked at it, Angel began to understand why he was always reminded of the museum master Night whenever he saw this painting.
The endless black scenery was the silent night. The burning fire in the center was the agitation piercing through the night. Serenity and restlessness, though diametrically opposed, were arranged together in this painting. Just like the impression Night gave to Angel: even though he was a descendant of the Fire Transmission Demon and should be turbulent, intense, and evil, Night indeed possessed these traits, like the twisted burning flames in his hair and the flame patterns on his face; but aside from these overt characteristics, Night gave Angel a sense of profound silence and tranquility, as orderly and calm as the vast expanse of night.
Angel observed the painting for a long time; perhaps the painting was indeed filled with various expressive emotions, but he found no clue about “Feng,” which Night had hinted at before.
After an unknown period, Angel finally noticed a subtle hint in the lower right corner.
He saw a line of faintly colored letters, almost blending with the surrounding darkness.
To his surprise, the line was written in human common language.
Name: “Night,” Artist: Feng.
Angel carefully examined the character “Feng,” and a familiar memory suddenly flooded his mind.
In the Wizards’ Realm, there was a very famous painting that was regularly published in the Frostmoon Alliance’s journal “Chronicles of the Abyssal Plane,” t.i.tled “Apocalypse Catastrophe”! It depicted the disaster scene of the world turning upside down and the apocalypse induced by the Demon G.o.d’s descent in the Southern Domain from the Abyssal Plane ten thousand years ago.
And the author of this painting was none other than the legendary “Magic Painter” Mirafel Feng!
Not long ago, Angel had seen “Chronicles of the Abyssal Plane” in Sanders’s study, and the handwriting of “Feng” there was identical to the “Feng” on this painting!
In fact, when Angel had seen the Tide World Map at the Shannon Royal Family, it too was painted by this Magic Painter Wizard. Although Feng had not signed it, the style of the handwriting was also identical to the one before him.
Could it be that this work was truly painted by that legendary Magic Painter Wizard?
If we a.s.sume this Feng is that Feng, and Feng is acquainted with both Odecla.s.s and Night, then the painting in Odecla.s.s’s palace back then, could it not also have been guided by Feng?
After being lost in thought for a moment, Angel looked again at the name Feng had given to the painting: “Night”.
This “Night” could perhaps refer to the night of wildfires, the burning night, the restless night depicted in the painting; but it could also be referring to Night, the master of the Hunting Museum.
Apart from the shock, Angel felt a small sense of pride in his heart. It seemed he shared a connection with the legendary Magic Painter Wizard.
Behind him came the familiar sound of heavy footsteps. Soon, the owner of the footsteps stood by Angel’s side; it was Night, who had left not long before.
“It looks like you’ve recognized Feng’s ident.i.ty?”
“The Magic Painter Wizard is also a well-known figure in the Wizards’ Realm.”
Night tilted his head, “Then you should know that there’s another feature in Feng’s paintings.”
The next second, Angel felt his wrist being grasped. In his daze, he found himself getting closer and closer to the painting, and finally, he crashed headfirst into it.
When Angel came back to his senses, he realized he was already under a sky dark as ink.
In this dense darkness, Angel faintly saw overlapping mountains where, at their convergence, there seemed to be some manmade structures. However, those buildings were now ablaze with roaring flames.
The flames burned fiercely, identical to those he had seen in the painting before. It was not only consuming the buildings but also burning a hole in the night sky.
“Is this inside the painting?” Angel muttered to himself in a low voice.
According to the records, the Magic Painter Wizard’s brush could connect the planar and three-dimensional worlds and even reached the realm of legends through it.
If it was truly the work of the Magic Painter Wizard, entering the painting would also seem natural, wouldn’t it?
He had actually entered paintings more than once. Back in the Nightmare Realm, he had been dragged into a painting that remained in Witch Town to this day. Moreover, Sanders had a.s.serted that perhaps that painting was also a work of mystery.
The feeling of entering this painting was somewhat different from that time in the Nightmare Realm.
Here, Angel couldn’t move. It was more like he was observing this s.p.a.ce in the painting from G.o.d’s View.
Under the night sky, the fire kept burning and, faintly, he seemed to hear someone screaming in agony.
The great fire burned for who knows how long, igniting forests and rivers, and even reached the front of Angel. In those flames, Angel saw some scenes: a painter whose face couldn’t be seen was painting in front of a demon engulfed in flames. As the painting formed, the fires on the demon slowly extinguished, eventually becoming…
Night!
The surrounding darkness faded at that moment, day and night reversed, and the flames died down. Angel discovered he had come out of the painting and was back in the Exhibition Hall, with Night quietly standing by his side. It seemed as if everything that had happened before was an illusion.
“I was born from that great fire,” Night said abruptly, “The flames burned everything, including the mountains, the earth, the swath of night, and also my matriarchal side.”
“The Fire Transmission Demon is called so because it inherited the will of the flames and is always pa.s.sing the fire, even at the moment of my infant birth.” Night started to smile, “But fortunately, I met Feng, who used this ‘Night’ to lock away the fire in me.”
This painting bound Night’s flames and also his emotions. Perhaps, for the Fire Transmission Demon, this was absurd. A proud fire demon needs the freedom to burn, to pa.s.s on the fire; how can it be bound?
Yet, being bound, Night didn’t act recklessly out of emotional impulse. It became calmer and more resilient, so it could focus on what it wanted to do. As a result, its power grew at an unimaginably rapid pace.
In just a few hundred years, Night had reached the power level only one step shy of a Demon Lord.
You must know, it is a Half-Blood Demon, naturally weaker than the Pureblood Demons. Yet while many Pureblood Demons could not break through their cla.s.s ceilings, it did. Therefore, Feng’s painting plays a significant role.
“Actually, the flames in this painting can be increased. Whenever I can’t suppress the emotions in my heart, a new flame will appear in the painting, until the night is consumed by the great fire,” Night spoke indifferently, “So, when you said this painting is me, you weren’t wrong.”
“Remember you asked why I trust you and want to help you?” Night looked at the painting, “Because Feng once told me that the night in the painting, before a certain time point, cannot be allowed to completely turn into a sea of flames, so I never thought of breaking free of the Constraint.”
“And the time point Feng mentioned was.”
“When a human seeks me out in his name, that’s when I can no longer be bound by this night.”
Angel looked at Night with a hint of surprise and pointed at himself: “Are you saying… me?”
Night nodded. Although it didn’t see anything wrong with the Constraint of ‘Night’, this painting not only gave it the capital for rapid growth but also bound the last step it needed to break through.
So, one day, it would completely turn this night into flames.