Chapter Eight: Surely, I'm Not the Thirteenth Angel, Am I?
“Wait until I level up again; then prepare for a fierce battle between us lasting three days and three nights! I’ll show you what it means for a man not to be humiliated!”
Night Lin was genuinely feeling a bit intimidated now. After all, pitting a human’s stamina and endurance against a giant dragon’s was a hopeless mismatch. The inevitable outcome would be him utterly defeated and twisted inside out.
To become a wretched remnant, starved and frail, wrapped tightly in a small blanket, curled up crying in a corner—while enduring Ta-na’s merciless mockery!
After dinner, having fed Celia with strawberry cake, Night Lin finally had time to examine the new skills he could learn.
Basic Magic Array: a component of the Sky Sea Magic Array.
“This thing…” Night Lin’s expression shifted slightly as a strong sense of unease surged within him.
Too coincidental!
The rampage and zombies within the Gran Forest were caused by the Bone Prison’s occupation of the magic array’s foundational auxiliary array during the Great Migration event.
Moreover, under normal circumstances, this foundational auxiliary array would be repaired by Celia; theoretically, she was the only one capable of restoring the magic array.
This unveiled a long-standing enigma surrounding Celia. Was the Thirteenth Apostle—the “All-Knowing One”—actually her?
As a girl who had lost her elven memories, how did she learn the grand mage Maer’s magic array? Was it truly inherited knowledge from the elves?
“I was the only one able to repair the magic array, but now I can too… Wait, could I be the Thirteenth Apostle?” Night Lin was momentarily stunned, suddenly realizing he might fit the profile of the Thirteenth Apostle.
Could it really be? Probably not...
The Second Apostle, Held, had found the first and fourth chapters of the ancient Terra Planet’s three great sacred texts, titled The Century of Innovation, deep in the demon realm’s depths. They described how to rebuild Terra.
It required killing twelve reincarnated apostles—or rather, using the power of the twelve apostles as sacrifice—to recreate anew!
This also opened the tragic history of the Arad Continent...
The key point was that there were thirteen apostles, and twelve needed to be sacrificed. So who was the sole surviving apostle?
The gist was a god with two faces and tear-filled eyes who proposed creation through sacrifice, and then twelve gods stepped forward...
But the biggest doubt was that the twelve gods who stepped forward did not include the “two-faced, tearful-eyed” god, who appeared to be Held himself.
In other words, this seemed to confirm Celia’s identity as the Thirteenth Apostle!
Yet Held himself perfectly matched the “All-Knowing One” trait.
She had calculated everything, set traps for all the apostles, and even dared not spare the great will of the Primordial Light.
Celia was once an elf; although she had lost elven traits and become a human girl, she often sat atop the inn, gazing toward Gran Forest, lost in thought, her eyes brimming with sorrow.
Once an elf, now a human—this precisely matched the “two-faced, tearful-eyed” characteristic.
Thus, the identities of Celia and Held intertwined and overlapped, shrouded in mystery.
---
“Phew, Gran Forest, the parallel world’s Ta-na, and I just happened to obtain Maer’s Seal of the Sky. Interesting.”
Night Lin closed the system panel. The skills available at LV5 were mostly basic spells like fireball, ice cone, and wind blade.
Along with a rather intriguing skill: Command!
Command: Select a target and temporarily turn it to fight on your behalf. The higher the target’s level, the lower the success rate.
“So traveling through worlds isn’t just about wooing girls; there are tough tasks ahead! I need to find those three people first, maybe start by unraveling Ta-na’s identity mystery.”
Night Lin rubbed his temples and forehead in complexity. As his level rose, so did his troubles, leaving no time for leisure.
The three people he referred to were the incarnations of the God of Wisdom Menir, the protector wielding Arad’s greatest justice;
The only one who healed the Phantom Hand, a shadowy warrior known as the Black Dark Knight who could freely traverse different times and spaces, nicknamed the Chimera;
And the creator of the Mouse Girl, who could harness the power of stellar explosions to open dimensional rifts at will.
These three possessed extraordinary power.
Plus himself, the successor of the grand mage Maer, currently unsure of his role or position, lacking even the Phantom Hand’s power—the mysterious fourth person, a traveler through worlds.
But one unchanging truth remained: strength!
“No, that’s not right! Uncle Linus, I want to venture into the Dark Forest again. I heard you were a great swordsman once—can you teach me a few moves?”
Night Lin produced a bottle of beer from the Moonlight Tavern, placing it beside Linus’s anvil as a blatant hint: teach me skills! Teach me the way of the Ten Thousand Swords! Teach me the Three Awakenings!
“Celia told you about my past, huh?”
Linus didn’t hesitate or shy away; his rough, cracked hands grabbed the beer and downed it in hearty gulps.
“Ha! This beer’s smooth and refreshing. You’ve got a good foundation, kid. With training, you might even become the next Sword Saint Aganzo.”
Linus set down the greatsword he’d been hammering, picked up a katana from the weapon rack, and beckoned to the empty space.
“You don’t have the Phantom Hand, so you can’t unleash Kazan’s blood fury to become a berserker, nor can you commune with demons to become a Ghost Wailer. And self-blinding to become a stainless steel Ashura? Forget it, you’re a handsome young man—wasting that would be a shame.”
“So in other words, I can only master orthodox swordsmanship! Like Lord Sodros! To become the greatest…”
“Dork?”
“Bah! Not dork, Sword Saint! Ever heard of the Four Sword Saints? Famous legends, the pursuit of countless adventurers!”
“Alright, alright, come on—I’ll teach you some basic sword techniques.”
Linus’s smithy was adjacent to Celia’s inn, and their training attracted the curious glances of several resting adventurers.
“Look at that guy—the weapon in his hand is glowing purple. Rare grade?”
---
“Though clumsy, he improves with each attempt.”
“Uncle Linus said last night he single-handedly toppled a minotaur beast!”
Blocking, thrusting, upward strikes—all the most basic and practical skills.
“These moves are just to shape your posture and aren’t considered true sword techniques; their power is limited. You can mix them into your combat experience. Becoming a Sword Saint isn’t so simple.”
“Also, remember to treat your equipment like you would a lover!”
Linus, with a cigarette dangling from his mouth, spoke with a nostalgic, weathered tone, waving goodbye.
“Uncle, why not a wife instead?”
“And equipment gets replaced—would a lover be kicked aside so easily?”
“Is that so?”
Night Lin turned suddenly, eyes wide and innocent, expression puzzled like a naive child about to start kindergarten.
The onlookers’ expressions changed subtly, casting amused glances at Linus, the blacksmith.
What a rogue!
Who would have guessed that the usually warm and hearty Linus was such a cad when it came to relationships?
Misjudged you, Linus!
“I meant you should cherish your equipment deeply, like you cherish a lover!”
Linus, annoyed, puffed his pipe furiously, his large belly shaking with the motion.
“Wow, doesn’t even cherish his wife—what a scoundrel!”
“Exactly, a scoundrel!”
—
The journey remained fairly safe. Ordinary goblins and minotaur soldiers were no match for him, easily dispatched.
New challenging monsters appeared: cat demons!
Not cat-eared girls!
Their sharp claws could easily tear through bark; their fangs could pierce poorly made leather armor. Even worse, cat demons were incredibly fast!
Swish!
The inherited katana slashed across a cat demon’s belly, the accompanying light attribute energy scorching its fur. The cat demon twitched a few times on the ground before falling silent.