Chapter 28: Wusu Hadn’t Left

But everything on the small window had been bought clean out.

Wusu swung his short little legs, watching the two people bicker in front of him, and said enviously, “So nice.”

Theo and Emil both turned to look at him as the little beauty’s big eyes shone brightly and he went on: “Your friendship. Good.”

Judging by that little face of his, if he hadn’t been hugging that bizarre ball of black cloud,

he might have raised his little hands and applauded the very next second.

Theo gathered up his things. “What’s your name?”

“Wusu,” Wusu answered obediently.

Whatever Theo asked, he answered.

He could not possibly have been better behaved.

Emil cradled the two grass clumps, delighted as if holding his beloved dimwitted son. “Stop worrying. I can’t sense any heretic presence.”

Emil had been born with an uncannily precise sense for the Fallen, which made many things far easier for him than for most.

The Fallen were the single most despised existences in every church, bar none.

The roots of their Fall were no different from any believer’s, yet they shrieked that they, too, were faithful to the true gods, the filthy, defiled abominations!

At that, the knot in Theo’s heart finally loosened by more than half.

The Void Island was of paramount importance; never mind the likes of them, even among the grand prelates, not everyone could be stationed here, and the hidden meaning behind that privilege none could say for certain.

The Void Island’s defenses had never relied on patrols. That no magic arrays had been triggered, no counterattack from the void, already neutralized the vast majority of hostile intent.

The unexpected appearance of Wusu’s little stall had indeed slipped through a loophole.

By the time Theo finished muttering about going back to file a report and keep the Mage Tower from doing anything rash, Emil had already scurried over and struck up a chat with Wusu.

“…Oh, I see. So you’re bored, huh?” Emil nodded, then dug around in his pocket until he pulled out a feathered snake poking its head this way and that. “You selling anything else? How about I give you this one instead? Then whenever you’ve got something tasty or fun later, you can have it deliver them to me?”

Wusu tilted his head, looking at Emil.

Okay.

He saw what lay deeper within Emil.

Then, happy as could be, Wusu accepted Emil’s gift.

Theo had just been about to stop him, but before he knew it, the moment the feathered snake changed hands, the small window, Wusu and all, vanished.

Theo: ? What the hell!

If spatial mages and their sky-is-the-limit creations didn’t get slapped down, he’d write his name backwards!

He spun around, only to find Emil already walking off with his armful of things. Panicked, Theo grabbed his shoulder. “You’re just leaving, like that?”

Emil’s hair shone gold; bathed year-round in the holy light of the Void Island, his golden locks were always dazzling as bullion, as bright and free-spirited as his personality. “The High Priest sent me over.”

One sentence from Emil shut down Theo’s interrogation.

Emil recalled the conversation from moments before.

“High Priest?”

“Let him be.

He carries the aura of our Lord.”

Emil thought that Archbishop Trovsky felt even more oppressive than before.

That uncanny, warped pressure about him seemed subtly different somehow.

To Theo and Emil, Wusu had simply vanished.

But for Wusu, only the scenery outside the window had changed; the feathered snake cradled in his hands was still there.

A plump puff of black cloud rode on Wusu’s shoulder while a tiny feathered snake lay cupped in his palms.

The snake was emerald green all over, its head small and pointed, with two pairs of translucent white wings on its back. Its slender tail wound around Wusu’s wrist, and the cool touch made Wusu’s eyes crinkle into smiles.

So small.

So cool. Wusu liked it very much.

But why did the feathered snake keep trembling?

As he wondered, he stroked the snake’s smooth scales.

…It trembled even harder.

The door of the Adventurers’ Guild was pushed open.

Wild Fox walked in.

He’d come looking for Alana, but the grand knight was nowhere to be found. Instead, something emerald green launched itself straight at his forehead!

Wild Fox was a lone-wolf sort, and he’d steeped himself in the game far deeper than those who played it purely as a game; his combat skills were the genuine article, every bit a match for any NPC!

The instant he sensed the attack, he formed a seal and chanted, and an ice arrow streaked out in a blink!

But the little emerald snake was freakishly agile. It twisted left and right, evaded the arrow, then, instead of truly attacking, coiled twice around his neck before slithering into his light armor, tickling him so badly that Wild Fox’s face went strange.

He felt the little snake come to a stop, of all places, at his waist!

“Wild Fox.”

The way the feathered snake had hurled itself out of Wusu’s hands, you’d think a wild beast was on its heels; that desperate flight for its life was so pitiful that Wusu pursed his lips and yanked Little Black Cloud down to squish and torment it.

“Not good,” Wusu said, very serious. “Bad bad.”

Scaring people on purpose.

Wusu’s soft, sticky voice sounded adorable, but the meaning was crystal clear.

No one had ever been able to deceive Wusu.

No one ever would.

With a splat, Little Black Cloud liquefied out from between Wusu’s fingers, then slowly congealed into a feathered snake of its own. Just as small and adorable, wings sprouting from its back, scales glossy smooth.

Only pitch-black.

As if it were saying:

Look at me.

Only me!

In the end, that fleeing feathered snake was taken in and raised by Wild Fox.

After he learned the little thing’s story.

After all, every time he tried to return the snake, it would go limp and pitiful in his palm; even for a lone wolf like Wild Fox,

after the second and third time, he began to waver.

It was a little too pathetic.

Wusu was generous.

One wave of his little hand, and the feathered snake belonged to Wild Fox.

The gift-delivery arrangement could wait.

One look and anyone could tell this feathered snake was no ordinary creature. Watching Wild Fox make a single round in front of Wusu and come away with a rare beast, the players’ hearts immediately started itching.

Once the quest was done, even more people crowded up to Wusu.

Sitting in the Adventurers’ Guild, Wusu unhurriedly set the quest for breaking new farmland.

It really wasn’t hard.

The farmland conjured out of nothing lay on the side near the dense woods. Once the system distributed the seeds and the formerly Fallen, now transformed into ordinary people, came to their senses, they all went to help.

And with the Fallen gone from the deep woods, Grand Knight Alana had made a personal patrol through; the eerie, oppressive gloom had thinned out considerably, and coming and going was safe now.

Under Alana’s watchful care, the territory was rising from ruin, everything waiting to be rebuilt.

Farming, tilling, wall repairs, house building, all of it got rolling little by little.

That tiny little territory was actually starting to look the part.

As for commerce, Wusu simply shelved it.

Wusu might be muddle-headed, but he was still leagues better than the semi-transparent frame and its half-bucketful of knowledge.

Add in Alana, born of a noble house with vast territories of its own, helping at his side.

Slowly, slowly, real life began stirring in the Gloomy Forest.

Wusu sat behind the Adventurers’ Guild counter.

He was pinching the semi-transparent frame, counting his subjects one by one on his fingers.

Everything in the territory ran in neat order. Alana had promoted a few capable administrators to help out, and once they got a grip on the threads, there was no need to come to Wusu for every little thing.

Wusu sat on a tall-backed chair.

His short little legs, with nowhere to rest, were swinging in the air.

His plump, adorable big toes curled in, occasionally sneaking a secret bump against the other toes.

This was prime slacking-off behavior!

A pitch-black feathered snake lay coiled around Wusu’s ankle.

His tender skin brushed against the snake’s scales without the slightest harm.

The scales wished they could be softer still, gentler still, lest they hurt Wusu.

The snake’s eyes were red, its tail tip perked up.

Carefully, slowly, it curled around the hem of Wusu’s robe.

And nuzzled it with utter delight.

It treasured the fabric as if what it held weren’t a robe at all but the heavenly song of a mermaid, or the miracle of watching gods and angels descend, so blissful it was practically bubbling over.

Splat.