Chapter 139: Two Snakes

This was an unnaturally long nightmare.

"What did I do wrong? Why are Father and Mother looking at me like that?"

From the moment she was born, Saliman Sudar sensed she was different.

After all, an ordinary infant would never, while lying in her crib, float a bottle and toys midair and giggle at her frantic parents rushing over.

Before she learned to say "Mama" and "Papa" with her mouth, her first utterance of "Mother" was not only clear in speech—but came from within her mind!

"Your daughter is a natural prodigy. At this age, she's already awakened psychic abilities. Once she grows a bit, take her to Mage Street—try training her as a psion."

The summoned mage declared it a "good omen," not demonic possession, but extraordinary talent.

Though psychic abilities are considered innate, in reality, most children only reach the strength to interfere with reality after reaching adulthood.

Only after awakening and undergoing professional training can one become an extraordinary practitioner in this field—such as a psion.

Awakening psychic abilities at birth is far too abnormal—even inhuman.

"Little Mind-Sucker! Little Mind-Sucker, come eat brains!" The children, spotting little Saliman, began to taunt her.

"Why call me that? I'm Snake-Snake, not a Mind-Sucker! I'm not!" Too young to argue effectively, little Saliman could only protest with words.

"Father said only Mind-Suckers have abilities like yours." (In truth, a few other aberrant bloodlines could also manifest such traits naturally—though none were easy to handle.)

As a child, Saliman was always driven to tears by her relatives' children, running to her mother and father to complain.

What she received instead was her mother's touch, tinged with fear, and her father's deliberate distance.

At some point, her father began wearing numerous defensive items against psychic abilities.

This confusion didn't last long—psychic power's most basic ability is "accelerated growth." Legends say, when perfected, it even touches the domain of time. Little Saliman grew faster than anyone expected.

At five or six years old, she already behaved like a miniature adult in every way.

"Mother, Father's gone to his mistress again. A bastard will be born next month."

What secret could hide from a tiny, naturally born psion? Had her mother not insisted, Saliman at this age could already have floated while walking.

"I can't control him—you know that."

Yet before little Saliman, her mother seemed pathetically weak.

After all, she was merely an ordinary noblewoman, neither an extraordinary being nor possessing any power.

Saliman knew early on that her parents' marriage was purely political.

One of the unwritten rules of such unions: the dominant party may stray slightly, and the weaker party pretends not to notice.

Little Saliman sighed, despising her mother's weakness yet furious at her father's infidelity.

"In the future, I'll find a man loyal to me—never someone like Father, a bastard."

Yet even after witnessing her mother's silent tears countless times, she never planned to confront her father—after all, she too was part of the noble system. Everyone in this circle behaved this way. Her father wasn't even extreme; they just made do.

She assumed this would be the ordinary, unhappy rhythm of her childhood, unchanged forever—until—

"You—you actually dared bring them in! Today of all days!"

Until the day of her sixth birthday, when she eagerly awaited her father's gift, only to receive a "surprise."

Her father entered the mansion with her "younger brother and sister," holding hands with his "Second Mother" and "Third Mother."

Right there, Saliman's eyes turned red, her hair lifting in rage.

Literally.

That night, the Sudar family faced a true monster.

She was far from as mature as she appeared. Her first psychic outburst left three critically injured, one servant dead—including her own father.

From then on, "the monster" became her nickname within the family.

Her unhappy but barely sustainable ordinary life vanished.

She hadn't seen her father for a long time—when she saw him again, it was at an even darker moment.

"Aaaahhh! This doesn't match my childhood memories at all!" Time shifted—Saliman in reality suddenly cried out.

"Saliman?"

Li En watched her with concern. Since this morning, she'd been slipping into moments of mental daze.

Was there a problem with this Heroic Soul inheritance?

Noticing Li En's worry, Saliman opened her mouth to speak—

"It's nothing. Nothing."

The next moment, she swallowed her words.

What could she say? That her memories contained another childhood?

Her own childhood wasn't exactly pleasant—her father was always away—but not to this extreme.

Her father chased mistresses and never came home; her mother stayed weak and shut in; the vast mansion held only her, alone. Her past memories were ordinary, weren't they? Her mother was gentle; she was just a precocious child; her psychic ability awakened at eleven.

". y memories have been altered."

Saliman wasn't foolish. She'd already sensed her memories had been tampered with.

As a psion, she knew only one being could modify her memories so perfectly—nearly reshaping her personality—

". id I do it myself?"

Yes. Only she herself could bypass the soul's instinctive resistance and defenses.

A person cannot forever deceive themselves—but perhaps only self-deception can construct a truly perfect logical chain.

Only when you choose to believe the lie and the illusion can you actively ignore every flaw and detail.

"I—I." Saliman was lost. She never imagined these things would happen after receiving the Heroic Soul inheritance.

It seemed she'd accidentally torn open her own wound.

What had been a meticulously crafted "False Corridor" now trembled under the onslaught of an incoming "flood."

Saliman felt fear, unease—she sensed something hidden in the memories yet to surface.

And now that her psychic balance was shattered, she would likely see even more unbearable things.

"Sssss (coward)."

The sudden voice made Saliman freeze—then she whirled and glared at her aunt behind her!

Again with the serpent tongue! Don't you know I understand now?!

I don't know why I understand today—but I do!

I knew you followed me this morning—up to no good! (Zi Qiangwei: Huh? I'm worried you're unwell.)

Saliman didn't know that above her left temple, a serpent's head watched her coldly.

"Sssss (fool)."

". ow about this dagger?"

At that moment, Li En spoke up, asking Saliman.

He didn't expect an answer—she'd been distracted all morning, and he feared she'd walk into a wall.

This was one of the commercial districts of Mordothilka. Li En's group had come here specifically for shopping.

This was an drow city; the duergar were master craftsmen, and the drow possessed the elves' unique enchantment techniques. Add to that this was the domain of the Shadow Deity—here, one could often find rare exotic imports.

Since they'd come, Li En naturally wanted to buy some local specialties.

"Trash. Fake shadow enchantments. Expose them to sunlight, and they're useless." Saliman replied coldly, seeing through the trick at a glance.

Her emerald-green eyes, flecked with gold, radiated icy light, pressing the drow merchant heavily. Li En too felt the weight—was this really Saliman?

"Eh, why are you staring at me?" The girl lowered her head, blushing under Li En's direct gaze.

Yes. This was Saliman.

"Sssss (love-struck)."

Saliman turned again, glaring—stupid aunt, secretly insulting me again.

Seeing Saliman return to normal, Li En turned his attention back to the goods.

He genuinely intended to seize this chance to buy something good.

The drow were a rare race of "magic-warriors." Their elven armor for sword-dancers and magic warriors, though weak in defense, had the least interference with spellcasting.

As a knight, Li En's desire for armor was endless.

If he could find a "caster armor" at a low price, he'd be satisfied.

But the armor he'd seen so far was truly inadequate.

Perhaps to preserve agility and avoid hindering spellcasting, this so-called "elven armor" was too thin and latticed—its protection was negligible.

Calling it armor was a stretch—it offered no more defense than light armor. Useless.

"You want armor as hard as heavy plate yet without hindering spellcasting? Suggest you go slay a dragon. Only true dragonhide armor might satisfy you."

The duergar craftsman bluntly replied to the picky customer.

"Pah." Li En tossed down a piece of shadow dragon hide.

"Would this work?"

Now it was the duergar's turn to sweat. The heavy elemental aura on these scales was unmistakably from a true dragon. A human who could slay a dragon was far beyond his ability to challenge.

But after careful inspection, he sighed and shook his head.

"No. It's too young. At least an eighty-year-old young dragon. For a shadow dragon, you need hide older than 150 years. Though… it's enough for two rogue leather armors."

The duergar didn't mean the hide was unusable—he meant it was insufficient for crafting "pseudo-heavy armor."

Even with "layered hide" techniques, young dragon hide remained too brittle.

But for two ordinary leather armors? More than enough. In fact, its toughness and smoothness made it ideal for agile classes.

Li En considered. He himself had no use for it—without solid armor, a melee fighter was asking for death. But for others…

"Saliman, want one? It'd suit you well."

Mind mages can wear light armor, and they indeed prefer armor made from monster hides.

Li En still remembered that when they first met, Saliman had a fine monster-scale armor, possibly of dragon affinity.

"No need, I don't need it," Saliman knew how poor Li En was and didn't want to take advantage.

"Sssss (I want it, thank you.)"

You fool, this is the first gift he gave you—how can you refuse it?

The power of the mind allowed Li En and the fool woman to overlook minor inconsistencies.

For Li En, since Saliman wanted it, he might as well give it to her.

He owed her plenty; repaying even a little was better than nothing.

The man turned his gaze to the next shop; he was deeply interested in the dark elves' unique techniques, especially their famed "Underground Piercing Arrow" series of weapon enchantments.

"Are you planning to accept the mission?" After a moment's thought, Saliman finally asked.

Li En came here specifically to procure supplies—it clearly looked like he was preparing for battle.

"Not necessarily. But there's a tendency toward it. If the plan proceeds smoothly, our difficulty won't be great."

Li En had no intention of waiting until the last day, because by then Kuku would have little time left.

It would be ridiculous if the Heroic Soul's power vanished halfway through.

Meanwhile, Verna added more incentives: she not only promised a substantial reward but also said she would have the "Daughter of the Black Dragon" join the mission as well.

Li En wasn't particularly concerned about these matters, because Victoria had already given him the data he wanted.

"Beasts are always our enemies. The dark elves have no fundamental conflict or hatred with the beasts; it's hard to refuse the chance to use their power to eliminate a few Beast Princes."

Li En had always remained calm; after the mind flayer was eliminated, negotiations with the Beast Cult and the dark elves were possible.

If possible, he hoped they would become irreconcilable enemies.

"Oh, so that's how you think," Saliman realized, but Li En stared at her for a long while, and finally she sighed.

You're the ambassador, this is your duty and position—how could you forget it so completely? What are you even thinking?

"Sssss (A fool in heat.)"

(End of Chapter)