Chapter 767: Lip Reading
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 767: Lip Reading
The farewell was over, but the matter was far from finished.
Muen suddenly raised his hand, activating the branch of the Eternal Cycle on his wrist.
As star-ring-like runes swirled a few centimeters above his skin, the world in Muen’s eyes was instantly stained with a hazy layer of crimson.
It was as if he had put on a pair of red-tinted glasses.
The world remained the same, but something extra appeared on Zagu.
Chains.
Chains of indeterminate length—one end connected to Zagu, the other piercing through countless solid walls, extending into the far distance.
These were the chains dropped by the true Eternal Cycle, tethering the soul of every member of the Demon Race, save for Divine Will.
Clatter.
Suddenly, the chain snapped taut.
It slowly dragged something out of Zagu’s body.
It was Zagu’s soul. In appearance, it was no different from his physical form, though it looked somewhat older and lacked those fresh wounds.
Yet, even without physical injuries, Zagu’s soul was like every other Demon soul Muen had ever seen: his ethereal body was covered in countless tiny fissures.
His soul was fractured.
However, compared to the Demons Muen had previously devoured with his black flames, the cracks on Zagu seemed much smaller, far from the brink of total collapse.
From the looks of it, the lower the grade of the Demon, the more severe the soul fragmentation. Is that why they gradually lose their sanity?
Muen rubbed his chin in thought.
Do the souls of deceased Demons remain bound by the chains of the Eternal Cycle? But what happens to these souls afterward? Are they... recycled?
Wait. Recycled?
A flash of inspiration struck Muen’s mind.
He felt as if he had finally grasped something... something incredibly important.
Exactly.
If they were being recycled, then by extension, there must be a so-called "re-use."
Otherwise, the act of recycling would be meaningless.
Recycling.
Re-use.
Immortality.
The Eternal Cycle.
Muen’s mind raced, searching through the tangled web of his thoughts for the thread that could unravel the mystery...
"Motherfucker, why did he have to die so fast?"
Beside him, Ariel—who was currently untroubled by such existential questions—gave Zagu’s body another dissatisfied kick. "I still had so many questions to ask."
"Please, try to be a bit more ladylike. He’s already dead..."
"You got a problem with that? I’m just a wild brat who grew up in the Lower District. I’m not like you noble lords. So what?" Ariel barked back, hands on her hips as she glared at him.
"No... it’s nothing."
Muen quickly swallowed his words. He felt that after the recent battle, Ariel’s temper had spiked by another notch.
What a pity. They had actually displayed quite a bit of chemistry earlier.
Muen regretfully toyed with his pure white blade, giving it a stylish flourish before preparing to return to his previous train of thought...
"Wait... hold on."
"Hold on for what?" Ariel snapped impatiently. "Are you finally ready to let me hack you to death?"
"No... we can talk about the hacking later. What did you just say?" Muen stared straight into Ariel’s eyes, as if he were finally closing in on his prey.
"Just... just now?"
Even Ariel, who prided herself on her nerves of steel, was startled by Muen’s predatory gaze. She clutched her chest—which hadn't quite recovered yet—and took two steps back.
"I said I’m just a brat from the Lower District..."
"Not that part! Before that!"
"Why did he have to die so fast..."
"Even further back! The very first thing you said!"
"The first thing?"
Ariel thought seriously for a moment, then looked at Muen with a bizarre expression. She asked tentatively:
"You... 'Motherfucker'?"
"Yes! That’s it!"
Muen slapped his hands together!
The intensity of his reaction startled Ariel again, and she clutched her chest even tighter.
Does this guy... really like being cursed at that much?
The young master of the Campbell family actually has a fetish like this?
He really is a pervert!
"Mother... Mother."
Muen had no time to worry about whatever reputation-damaging thoughts Ariel was harboring.
As he whispered those words, a certain memory hidden in the depths of his mind was unearthed once more.
It was an insignificant memory, one that hadn't even felt profound at the time. Compared to the life-and-death crises he had faced along the way, it was so mundane it felt almost abnormal.
It was only after Ariel’s "reminder" that he remembered it.
It had happened when he first entered Demon territory. To gather intelligence, he had slipped into a small Demon tribe.
In that tribe, he had encountered a young female Demon and a dying High-Class Demon.
The girl was only seven or eight years old. Her mutations were far more pronounced than the High-Class Demon’s; by the standards of their race, she was nearly a Low Demon.
This low-grade little girl was taking care of the dying High-Class Demon.
At first glance, it was just a common, tragic story of a weak daughter caring for her heavily injured father.
If the story had ended there, there would have been no reason for Muen to remember it.
But that High-Class Demon—perhaps due to the agony of his wounds, or perhaps due to the fragile instinct every living creature shows when facing death—had suddenly cried out a word just as Muen was preparing to leave.
"Mother."
It was an ordinary word. Most people in pain instinctively call out for the greatest pillar of support in their hearts.
Whether they are Human or Demon.
Muen hadn't thought much of it at the time, assuming the man was simply calling out for a mother he would never see again.
But... when he connected that seemingly ordinary event with all the intelligence he had gathered now, and made a bold conjecture...
What if... that dying High-Class Demon wasn't calling out for a mother he couldn't see?
What if he was simply, plainly, calling out to the mother right beside him?
What if the "Mother" he was calling for was that young, powerless, frail... seven or eight-year-old Demon girl?
In an instant, a violent chill surged up Muen’s spine, making him feel instinctively nauseous.
"Is that it? Is that what 'Mother' actually meant?"
An ordinary word.
A word no one would pay attention to.
Yet, at this moment, it finally—finally—connected the scattered pieces of information Muen possessed.
It allowed him to deduce the truth behind the "immortality" the Demons spoke of.
"No wonder."
No wonder the Low Demons didn't fear death, because for them, death truly wasn't the end.
And no wonder Zagu spoke of "seeing him again" rather than a final farewell, because there truly was a possibility of meeting again.
What he feared wasn't death, but loss—the loss of the power he had spent centuries tempering.
The Demon Race truly could achieve immortality.
The Eternal Cycle.
Muen finally understood the power contained within that name, as well as the rules governed by this ancient artifact.
Immortality was, in fact, reincarnation.
"Wait, let me catch my breath. This is a bit too horrific." Muen rubbed his aching head, his gaze instinctively falling back to his wrist.
Is the Eternal Cycle this terrifying?
Is this ancient artifact this formidable?
To trap millions of people in a cycle of reincarnation stripped away from the laws of the world, allowing their souls to wear down and their bodies to mutate... how is this power any different from a God's?
Then the question followed: how much did this cycle affect memory?
It certainly wasn't without impact. Otherwise, millions of old monsters with thousands of years of experience—even if they frequently "reset their accounts"—would be terrifying beyond measure. The current state of the Demon Race was far from that.
And thinking carefully, this wasn't something to be celebrated at all. The entire Demon Race seemed to be shackled within this rotation—dying to be reborn, being born to die. With the mental fortitude and lifespan of an ordinary human, to constantly undergo this cycle of life and death without escape until the soul gradually collapsed, until the body completely mutated, until reason... vanished into nothingness.
Rather than a blessing, it was more like... a curse.
No, no. This is just a theory for now. There’s no direct evidence, and this has nothing to do with how I’m going to save An.
Muen forced himself to calm down. In an event that likely involved a Deity, wild guessing could very well cost him his life. A conjecture he believed to be correct could also lead him astray.
He couldn't let his thoughts run wild.
"But then again, if death is meaningless, why did Divine Will start that war? What exactly is his goal?"
Muen looked up. Since guessing wouldn't work, he wanted to find answers from the soul that was gradually floating upward.
He looked over tentatively, but to his surprise, Zagu’s soul actually responded. His lips moved as if he were saying something.
Unfortunately, Muen couldn't hear the voice of a soul.
"Ariel, can you read lips?"
Muen turned abruptly, seeking help from Ariel.
He just didn't know why this fearless "Soaring Phoenix" protagonist was currently looking so wary, standing ten paces away with her arms crossed over her chest.
It was as if she had encountered a pervert.
"Lip reading? Of course I can. It’s a mandatory skill for causing trouble and stealing secrets in the Lower District. Why are you asking?"
Ariel glanced at Muen’s lips with increasing suspicion. This guy had been muttering to himself like a madman, and now he was suddenly asking such a strange question.
He’s not trying to find an opening to do something weird to me, is he?
"Then look. What is he saying?"
Muen ran over and grabbed Ariel’s hand.
"You—you—you! What are you doing? Are you trying to grope me? Believe it or not, I’ll hack you to—huh?"
Ariel was about to explode and start swinging, but when Muen’s hand touched hers, she froze.
Because her vision had changed.
A hazy layer of red covered the entire world, as if a crimson moon hung in the sky, casting an eerie hue over everything.
"What is this?"
"A soul-vision granted by the branch of the Eternal Cycle."
"Soul-vision?"
"No time to explain. Quick, look at what he’s saying."
"Eh? Zagu? He’s not dead? No, that’s a soul."
Ariel reacted quickly.
Though she had gone through some minor psychological turbulence, her professionalism remained. In the final moments before Zagu’s soul was carried away by the chains, she rapidly began to translate his lip movements:
"Muen Campbell... I forgot to mention... my 'caution'... never fails..."
"So... our battle... should have awakened... 'that existence' at the bottom..."
"Next... enjoy... yourself..."
"..."