Warlock Apprentice-Chapter 1066 - : Section 1067 Compensation Goods

If audio player doesn't work, press Reset or reload the page.

Chapter 1066: Section 1067 Compensation Goods

“Have you gotten your hands on those materials you had the night gather for you?” Fafnir asked. freēwēbηovel.c૦m

“I’ve gotten everything else, just the remaining Fire Transmission Stone fragments. The night innkeeper said it would take another day.”

Fafnir frowned and muttered, “If it’s only one day, there shouldn’t be a problem.”

Demons did harbour suspicion towards each other, and it would take some time for the awakener incident to ferment. Moreover, after the buffering period, there would be a reaction period. A day should be manageable to wait.

“Then we will wait another day,” Fafnir nodded in agreement.

Since they needed to wait one more day, Fafnir brought up how they should spend the following day.

Angel thought about it. He was well aware that many demons had their eyes on this place, watching every moment. It was inconvenient to do anything. Furthermore, if he changed his usual habits during this day, it might lead other demons to accelerate the fermentation time of the awakener incident.

After considering, he finally decided to continue his plan of opening for business once the cabin was repaired.

Continuing business would let the demons observing him covertly be at ease, signaling that things were still going as usual. This could actually allow them to relax their vigilance and watch the Misty Cabin’s situation more closely.

If he acted too out of the ordinary, being all closed up and cautious, it would instead make the demons feel that he was guilty of something.

Better to create an intentional diversion, letting the demons spend their time pondering over their uncertainties.

Fafnir had no objections to Angel’s decision. She fully trusted her own strength. After all, it was just one last day, and she was confident in facing any challenge that might come her way.

With their plan set, Fafnir continued to rest against the tree trunk while Angel returned to the front yard.

Canaan worked at a remarkable speed. Its main body stood motionless at the front door, but it controlled several illusions of water arms, cutting trees and repairing the cabin at the same time. Canaan even found time to greet Angel upon his arrival.

Angel nodded in response, then casually shifted a tree stump to sit on, lounging as he waited for Canaan to finish repairing the cabin.

During this process, Angel noticed Canaan occasionally glancing his way, furrowing its brows, hesitating at its steps.

“If you have a question, just ask,” Angel said.

“Master, I just wanted to know, was the situation with the Pannas Charm Demon the other day… was it…” Canaan hesitated for a long time before voicing the doubt that had been lingering in its mind, “Was it awakening?”

As Canaan posed the question, Angel unexpectedly felt a chill run down his spine. The surroundings seemed calm, with no signs of disturbance, but he noticed that Fafnir, who was lying on the tree trunk feigning sleep, suddenly opened her eyes and glanced over with a cold gaze.

Fafnir’s reaction confirmed Angel’s suspicion was correct.

Previously, when he spoke with Fafnir, she had somehow made it so that other demons couldn’t sense their conversation. But now, that shielding mechanism had clearly disappeared. When Canaan asked that question, countless demons must have turned their attention to him.

Even though the watching demons didn’t stir, show any sign of life, or emit any energy fluctuations, the disconcerting feeling of being watched and targeted still allowed Angel to sense something was amiss.

Angel was aware that countless demons were observing him, waiting for his response.

He frowned, looking as if he had been through this too many times. Rubbing the temples that felt slightly swollen, Angel said helplessly, “Awakening? You’re asking me, how should I know?”

“I am not a demon, how would I know what awakening feels like, or what state it is?” Angel said, then waved his hand, signaling for Canaan to go back to work.

“Hurry up and get back to work. Once the cabin is repaired, we need to continue with the business. Today, we only earned a bit of Demon Gold Coins before someone wrecked the place, and later we have to take on more clients; otherwise, we will be at a loss.”

Angel’s grumbling left Canaan stunned, unsure why the owner had suddenly changed. In the past few days, the owner had only been opening for half a day and charged 9,000 Demon Gold Coins per service, far from being ‘at a loss.’

Canaan was confused, but since what the owner said didn’t seem incorrect, so it nodded and returned to its post to continue the repairs.

Only after Canaan had left did Angel’s sensation of being watched slowly subside.

He let out a quiet sigh of relief. In that moment just now, Angel felt like an actor on a stage performing before countless viewers, putting on an impressive act.

It might not be impressive, possibly it was a poor performance, but it didn’t matter.

In the end, he had revealed all the information he needed to: He didn’t know what awakening was, but his shop would continue to operate, and they could come and investigate themselves.

This was the attitude he was making clear.

Canaan repaired quickly, and after Angel had only rested for a short while, the Misty Cabin was already fixed up, even the sign that had been smashed was rewritten by Canaan.

However, this time Canaan’s demonic script looked much nicer than Angel’s handwriting.

The word “Misty,” subtly visible through the watercolor, really did have a mesmerizing effect.

“Master, it’s done,” Canaan said.

Angel murmured to himself: How could it be so quick?

But he nodded to Canaan, offering praise, “Very well, tidy up the shop a bit, then prepare to open.”

After speaking, Angel walked into the shop with a calm demeanor and returned to the attic on the second floor. Canaan had also re-carved the previously destroyed tables, chairs, beds, and cabinets.

The air was still tinged with a faint mist, as well as the distinct pine scent of new wood.

Angel sat back down in his chair and did nothing; his mind was completely empty, simply waiting in the dark, quiet attic for the minutes to tick away.

After reopening the shop, Angel thought he would immediately face a rush of customers, yet there was none.

Not a single customer came through the door even after an hour had passed since opening.

“Could it be that the demons watching in the shadows aren’t sending any scouts to check things out?” Angel wondered. However, after thinking about it, he felt it was actually for the best. It was even better with no one coming, as he was just biding his time until he could walk away when the time came.

And so, an hour went by, then two… time slowly slipped by.

It wasn’t until it was nearly night, when the light from the towers of Lassudral dimmed, that he finally welcomed his first customers.

However, these customers were not there for the experiential journey.

They were three skinny demons with porcelain-white bodies, heads like mushroom caps, and four pairs of veins-bulging wings.

According to Canaan, these were called “little gargoyles,” named for their resemblance to gargoyles, though they had no actual relation to them.

The little gargoyles, typically the house slaves of greater demons.

When the three little gargoyles flew toward the shop from a distance in the sky, they were carrying a leather bag, which they placed in the courtyard upon landing, then explained their purpose.

“This is the compensation sent by our master.”

At first, Angel didn’t react, but then he remembered telling Simos that compensation for damaging the shop was necessary. This was the compensation Simos had sent.

After delivering the compensation, the little gargoyles promptly flew away.

Curious, Angel untied the leather bag. As the taut bag was opened, a head still dripping with fresh blood rolled out.

It appeared to be the head of some magical creature, like that of a bull but without horns. Its skin also looked somewhat familiar.

As Angel was pondering, a treated piece of parchment appeared out of nowhere like a falling feather, gently drifting into his hands.

The parchment carried the familiar cool scent of charm, leaving no doubt that it was left by Simos.

“I don’t fancy the head of a ‘little fly,’ so consider it a part of your compensation.”

A ‘little fly’? Angel seemed to think of something, constructing the “server” of the Eye of Nalda in his mind. With the server up and running, the head, which still looked “fresh,” became a conglomerate of countless pieces of information in Angel’s eyes.

“A Void demon!” A wild joy flashed in Angel’s eyes, “It is indeed Simos’s head!”

He had only received bones and skin from Simos before and actually wondered why, if Simos just ate the flesh, the skull should also have been there. But at that time, although Angel had doubts, he felt too awkward to ask outright.

Unexpectedly, Simos had sent over the head. Simos’s skull, the hardest part of its body, could be said to be the prime material for making either armor or weapons.

The eyes of Simos were also essential for many space-related items.

Unable to resist, Angel sent his spirit tentacle probing into the skull… The brain was there, too—an ingredient for concocting top-notch potions, and he’d heard that some advanced spell techniques of Space Mages required the brain of Simos as a casting material.

Perhaps for Simos, this was the most insignificant thing, especially since it was a gift from Yadasai. But for Angel, it was probably the most precious item he’d acquired since coming to Lassudral.

This was a complete head of a True Knowledge Level magical creature!

Moreover, this creature was from the very special category of Space Series creatures!

Angel pulled out the aggregative matter of water of the specter, diluted it with more water, and submerged Simos’s head in it.

After completing these preparations, he carefully stored it inside his bracelet.

He gestured to Canaan to continue greeting visitors, and Angel, with a face full of joy, returned to the attic. Once back in the attic, he couldn’t help taking out Simos’s head to examine it repeatedly, his face filled with satisfaction.

Is that thing really worth your excitement? You truly are a clueless human,” came the voice of Fafnir from the skylight. After a sarcastic remark, its tone changed, “There are visitors at the door, by the way. And a few of the demons out there have this disgusting smell on them.”