Warlock Apprentice-Chapter 1495 - Section 1496 The Space of the Deceased

Chapter 1495: Section 1496: The Space of the Deceased

Chapter 1495: Section 1496: The Space of the Deceased

“Since you want to know the truth, I’ll tell you,” Beren Lang said, having apparently undergone a subtle shift in his mindset after the previous altercation. He slowly walked to the side and pointed at the dagger that had fallen to the ground when Alex had subdued him, “But, before that, let’s destroy this dagger first.”

Alex walked forward with confusion and picked up the dagger. For some reason, as he held what appeared to be an unremarkable dagger in his hand, he thought he could hear the whispers of demons, and a chilling sensation slowly rose from his spine.

“This dagger is so strange,” Alex muttered quietly. “It seems to be imbued with an abundance of negative energy… It shouldn’t exist in this world.”

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Angel looked at Alex with some surprise. As an alchemist, even without a physical body, he could easily discern that the dagger must have been steeped in the essence of death for a long time to exude such a cold aura. However, for Alex, a mere mortal, to see through the true nature of the dagger at a glance was beyond Angel’s expectations.

“This dagger comes from the ghostly space, tainted with the aura of that realm. That’s how she could sense the dagger and locate our position in order to kill me,” Beren Lang explained. “Now, although she thinks I am dead, the dagger remains here. If she remembers the dagger, she might return at any time. Therefore, it’s crucial that we destroy the dagger quickly.”

Beren Lang’s words revealed much information, including about the ghostly space and the “she” he mentioned, compounding Alex’s confusion further.

“I know what you want to ask, and once we’ve dealt with this dagger, I’ll tell you everything,” Beren Lang said.

Alex hesitated for a moment but eventually nodded, ready to destroy the dagger outright.

At that moment, however, Angel stepped forward, took the dagger from Alex’s hand, and said, “This dagger is saturated with a significant amount of death’s essence. It’s very damaging to living beings, but its power against the undead is also notable. It would be a waste to destroy it.”

As he spoke, Angel waved his hand over the dagger, which seemed to be coated with a layer of film. The previously pervasive aura of death vanished instantly, and the dagger became simple and unadorned.

Angel handed the transformed dagger back to Alex: “This dagger can harm the undead, and I think it might be of some use to you. As for the aura it carries, I have concealed it with an illusion technique. The death’s essence within will sustain the illusion, so as long as the essence persists, the illusion will not fade.”

Alex accepted the dagger, now appearing anew, and indeed no longer felt the chilling sensation. Moreover, when not in use, the dagger would remain hidden due to the illusion, becoming visible only as a faint phantom shadow when wielded.

Knowing that there were undead within this caged world and that he might face them in the future, possessing such a dagger held great significance for him.

With this in mind, Alex expressed his gratitude to Angel in all earnestness: “Thank you.”

After the aura of the dagger was concealed, Beren Lang also breathed a sigh of relief.

He first glanced at Angel, who had now revealed his form, “Was it you who was speaking with Alex on top of the Watchtower last night?”

Angel nodded.

“I have never seen you in Gust Town. Who are you?” Beren Lang’s eyes held a hint of confusion. This was a closed world; how could an anomaly have appeared?

“I’m just a passerby who didn’t reach his destination by train and was forced to disembark early due to certain reasons,” Angel replied.

The answer clearly did not convince Beren Lang, and he was unsure whether to reveal the truth, especially in front of such an anomaly.

However, Alex did not intervene, seemingly holding no guard against Angel. Moreover, Beren Lang himself had been saved by Angel before. Considering this, Beren Lang decided to overlook Angel’s presence and began to slowly unveil the truth—

“Your guess is correct. Gust Town is indeed not a complete world; it is an isolated space-time constructed by others. Your term ‘cage’ perhaps more profoundly conveys the situation, as in fact, we are all birds in a cage…”

Beren Lang himself knew not much more beyond the world of the cage, for all that he knew came from a segment of memory.

“This chunk of memory, I did not know previously that it didn’t belong to me; I even revered it as my ultimate truth. However, one day, while praying to the Divine Father, I began to doubt what I had steadfastly believed in, and that doubt germinated like a seed and slowly grew.”

“Thus, I began to scrutinize myself, unraveling each memory. Eventually, I was certain of one thing: that memory was not mine. It was the imposition of an unknown, perhaps a powerful outsider beyond the cage, who forced the memory into my mind.”

“From that day on, I hid myself and served the Divine Father with even more devotion.”

“I thought my life would continue as such indefinitely. Until, Alex, you drifted along the river to Gust Town.”

Alex did not grasp what Beren Lang meant: “What was in that memory? And how did my arrival change anything?”

Beren Lang fell silent for a long time, pondering whether to speak. But gazing into Alex’s firm eyes and recalling Alex’s actions when he thought Beren Lang had died, Beren Lang sighed and decided to speak.

“That memory that wasn’t mine is very lengthy. Putting aside the elaborate information about this cage, the core message it conveyed was just one thing.”

“Kill all outsiders.”

Alex’s pupils shrank, “You mean the priest wanted…”

Bertrand nodded, “Yes, those memories were of me killing outsiders, like you.”

Alex swallowed, with a flash of surprise in his eyes. He’d always thought he was just a detached observer of this matter, never considering that he was actually a participant, and moreover, the true central participant.

When Angel heard this, he wasn’t too surprised, for he had noticed from the beginning that Alex was entirely different from the others here, not only in language tone and thought patterns but also in his extremely dazzling aura, which clashed with his surroundings. At that time, Angel had speculated that perhaps the purpose of this cage was for Alex.

As it turned out, it really was so. What Angel hadn’t expected, though, was that the existence of the cage was to kill Alex.

However, since Alex was still very much alive, it was clear that Bertrand hadn’t done so.

“When I saw you drifting down the river, I knew that my mission, the reason for my existence, was to kill you.” Bertrand lowered his head, “Perhaps it was a momentary act of rebellion, or maybe seeing your white hair reminded me of the Father God… and I know how terrifying death is, but I was supposed to kill you because of a memory that wasn’t my own. I couldn’t do it.”

So Bertrand did not kill Alex; instead, he took him in.

But that memory, which wasn’t Bertrand’s own, kept reminding him, at all times, that he must kill Alex.

In order not to act impulsively, Bertrand constantly trained Alex in the recitation of the Holy Scripture, for only when Alex recited the Holy Scripture, Bertrand would feel like he was the messenger of the Father God, in the name of the Father God. He could not kill Alex; that would be defying the Father God.

In short, Bertrand was using his own religious faith to fight against that segment of memory.

What Bertrand believed in most was the Father God. To avoid killing Alex, he even went so far as to turn Alex into a “Father God.”

“I know you scorn the Holy Scripture, but I hope you read it not just to educate you, but also to redeem myself.”

Bertrand said, “As your understanding of the Holy Scripture became increasingly precise, the murderous intent in my heart really calmed. I thought I had defeated the memory that didn’t belong to me, and believed this life would continue until, a hundred years later, I would hand over the Cruya Church to you for it to be passed on generation after generation. But what I didn’t expect was…”

“At that moment, Lady Connie managed to escape her pursuers.”

Alex said, “I just wanted to use Lady Connie to find the hidden truth of Gust Town. What does this have to do with it? And who is she?”

Bertrand didn’t immediately reply to Alex’s question but continued to narrate calmly, “I know that Gust Town’s peace is part of a dangerous balance, because the powerful being behind the construction of the cage didn’t intend it to be a utopian paradise outside the real world.”

“The true meaning of the cage is chaos, bloodshed, slaughter… and to keep all the outsiders in this battleground.”

“Because I know the purpose of the cage, I don’t want it to become such a place, so I’ve always made every effort to maintain this fragile balance, including adopting you and teaching you with the Holy Scripture. In fact, it’s also my hope that you would not disturb this balance.”

“But after all, you’re an outsider. Your vision has never been confined to this small cage. You also have curiosity, and a strong desire for the truth, so your pursuit of the truth eventually disturbed this fragile balance.”

“Lady Connie’s disappearance provided her with the opportunity to turn the cage into a battleground.”

Bertrand turned to look into the distance, where the Viscount’s estate was still echoing with sobs.

“Murderous intent has arisen, and even if Lady Connie returns, perhaps nothing will change. This cage will eventually turn into a Ghost Phantom; it’s probably just… returning to the right track.”

In Bertrand’s eyes was a look of disconnection and despair. Having to watch the balance shatter and the world fall apart was extremely agonizing for him.

In Angel’s eyes, Bertrand was like a marionette in a stage play, a puppet who one day gained consciousness for some special reason. He realized he was a puppet, and that each of his movements wasn’t of his own volition, but controlled by someone pulling the strings.

So, the puppet began to resist. He wanted desperately to free himself from the control of the strings.

Maybe for a moment, he really did break free from the strings.

But he forgot that pulling the strings was just a trigger; the puppet was still on the stage. He could resist, but as long as the other actors on the stage continued, he could never truly escape the play.

Such is the nature of being not in control of one’s own fate.

After reflecting for a while, Bertrand finally came to his senses and spoke of the most crucial matter.

The undead space within the cage, and “her.”