Chapter 60: Demon and Final Meeting

Boom—!

In an instant, the entire ancient castle trembled, shaking unceasingly.

Luge had just opened the room door; he immediately stretched out his hand to brace against the wall and steady himself.

Is this the method she spoke of? Luge thought.

He immediately tried to see if he could open his own spatial door; unfortunately, after a whole episode of effort, the result was still failure.

The rumbling sound had not yet ceased; he looked left and right, still not seeing Old Butler Izel's figure, while recalling that simple map, he began empowering spell models — Bull Strength and Light Body Technique were cast in succession to empower his body; Spiritual Boiling refreshed the mind of him who had just woken up; with preparations complete, he braced a hand on the wall and shot out like an arrow leaving the bowstring.

According to that young master's words, supplementing the map drawn by the succubus scholar, this place was not the deepest level of the ancient castle — meaning to reach the library one needed to go up seven floors; and many places in the ancient castle had already become impassable due to ruin and collapse; the succubus knew the ancient castle's appearance from a hundred years ago.

"Truly a problematic noble……"

While sprinting madly amid the trembling, Luge muttered in his heart.

The up and down entrances of each floor were on diagonal sides; this forced him to constantly circle back and forth to climb floor by floor. Ordinarily, wouldn't these nobles themselves spend a great deal of time walking it once? And hearing the succubus speak, the more noble the identity, the lower they lived; the City Lord would certainly be on the bottom floor, and the offspring would generally live on the second-to-last floor.

He ran in great strides, still hesitating in his heart whether to swap Bull Strength off the first magic mark — that is, the temporary spell slot — and pre-empower and store a Fireball Technique; this would guarantee instant casting of Fireball Technique; but among the small tricks written in the Black Book, there was a line: to obtain the maximum success rate for a first-circle composite spell, one must not casually swap the spell on the temporary spell slot. And Luge wanted to take it to the extreme — that from the moment the temporary spell slot was born, it would only ever store that one kind of spell.

Floor after floor, he counted in his heart, while continuously sighing at the ancient castle's enormity.

Moreover, the higher up, the larger it became; even with many areas collapsed, he could still find a path and pass smoothly. While complaining, he even stopped his steps and tried again to open a spatial door; unfortunately, still failure.

Only two floors left, he silently recited in his heart, continuing to run for his life.

Suddenly, the vibration stopped.

The surroundings fell quiet for a time, returning to that deep, quiet ancient castle of old; only some faint rustling of small rubble and the sound of crystal stone lamp decorations falling in the corridor remained.

Luge hesitated for an instant in his heart, did not stop his steps, but instead gritted his teeth and forced a little more speed.

Joints all over his body were making abnormal sounds.

"Young Master, what do you intend to do."

Old Butler's figure appeared at the corner; behind him were the ascending stairs.

As long as he passed here, only one floor would remain, and he could see that library.

Old Butler Izel was still as composed and unhurried as ever, but his appearance was no longer as perfect as in the past.

One arm had already disappeared from Old Butler's shoulder; his clothes had additional tears; even a shoe was missing; of course, none of this affected his bearing — his waist still stood ramrod straight.

"Young Master, no need to worry; please return to your room and rest with peace of mind."

Old Butler first stood at the intersection; seeing Luge had no intention of continuing forward, he left that spot and walked over step by step.

"Merely a few ugly demons strayed into the ancient castle's range; they count as having some strength but no wit; they have already been dealt with by me; Young Master need not worry; the ancient castle is extremely sturdy; if not for fear of disturbing Young Master's rest, those few demons could exhaust their lives and still not break the barrier to enter."

Old Izel continued approaching.

Luge glanced to the side and walked forward at a measured pace to meet him.

"I want to give you the protective talisman my father left me, Izel."

He looked at Old Butler and quietly cast Zero-Circle Spell Stench Skin; at this point he was no longer afraid of stimulating the other party — only to more intuitively sense whether the other party bore malice, and to continuously observe its changes; to his surprise, Old Butler held not a shred of malice toward this fake young master; this let him act even more boldly.

Luge walked while untying the cloth strip on his wrist.

In his view, perhaps there was no need to burn any corpses.

The rigid Old Butler at this moment wore a dazed, stunned look, as if he had not expected the young master to do this, momentarily at a loss.

Actually, just now, Luge had sensed that the injured Old Butler looked somewhat dull and stupid.

Luge steeled his courage, lifted Old Butler's hand, just like helping up a familiar elder; that cloth strip taken from the Wizard Apprentice Robe was suddenly fastened tight, letting the handsome youth's teeth press close against Old Butler's wrist, letting that true young master's tooth tips pierce into the wound on the side of Old Izel's wrist; it was precisely seeing this wound that gave Luge the idea to do this.

Old Butler Izel's body seemed as if no blood flowed; even at the severed arm, not a single drop of fresh living blood remained.

Luge naturally decided on a two-pronged approach.

He suddenly leapt past Old Butler's side and rushed up the ascending stairs.

"The rest is left to you." He did not look back.

Before he untied the cloth strip, that young master had already appeared at his side.

Therefore, he temporarily changed his mind and decided to give the two old fellows a surprise first; yes, that young master was actually hundreds of years old too; in this sudden way, he finally gave them a chance to meet; once successful, what delaying tactic could compare to this.

He charged all the way and finally saw the library's grand doors.

The two doors were actually stone; they looked quite imposing; the heavy stone material also suited the ancient castle walls perfectly.

He held his arm level; on the hard skin generated by Magic Skin Technique was stuck a small tooth fragment — it was what he had wrenched off with Bull Strength; he still remembered that young master's instruction: holding a tooth would make it convenient to find that corpse.

Pushing open the library's grand doors, he saw the walls inlaid with higher-grade crystal stone lamps; facing him was a portrait — the figure in the painting was tall and heroic, clad in strange blue armor; his face bore some resemblance to that young master; looking closely, the features were very alike, but in terms of bearing, that young master fell short by three parts.

This must be that City Lord, he thought.

The library was larger than imagined.

Following the wondrous guidance transmitted from the tooth fragment, he walked step by step toward the library depths; along the way down, many of the crystal stone lamps on the walls were already broken; the deeper he went, the dimmer it became; but fortunately, this bit of dimness could not trouble a little kobold's eyes.

Reaching the deepest part, bookshelves formed circle after circle arranged like a maze; judging from traces on the ground, it seemed these bookshelves could previously move on their own.

A pitch-black stairwell leading downward stood openly in the midst of the bookshelf circles.

Luge arrived before the stairs and suddenly halted his steps.

The words Half-Man spoke before departure flashed through his mind: as an otherworldly outsider, approaching an Abyss Altar would bring a sensation — this was not a difficult thing to distinguish. This kind of feeling that is hard to describe in words, he finally had a personal experience of it now.

There was actually an Abyss Altar down there.

Could it be that the ancient castle was sent over by means of sacrifice?

But how could that be possible? That would simply be a crazy act of courting death; if it were by sacrifice, there would necessarily have to be an object, a recipient.

And why would that young master's corpse be in a place like this? He thought in his heart, yet he took out Half-Man's half-face, held it in hand, and walked down the stairs step by step. As if that half-face could give him endless courage.

(Chapter End)