Chapter 459: Perception of Reality (1/2)

“Two days remaining,” Ogras muttered as he looked out the window of the small farmstead. “I guess it’s about time.”

“What’s that, darling?” the lithe woman purred in Ogras’ ear.

“I need to go out for a bit,” the demon said with a smile as he pinched the bare bottom of his little savior.

“You shouldn’t walk around too much with those wounds of yours,” she said with some admonishment in her eyes. “You were on death’s bed just three weeks ago.”

“Didn’t I prove just how healthy I was yesterday?” Ogras said with a cheeky grin and received a roll of the eyes in return.

He had been pretty confident in defeating the 5th floor guardian after his experience with the Transcendent Master, but the fight had pushed him way harder than expected. The enraged beast had been a perfect counter to him as well, too stupid to be tricked.

Things didn’t really turn for the better at the following three levels as he looked for an inheritance to end his run with. His wounds kept accumulating until he almost died at the hands of the assassin who guarded the gates to the 49th floor. If it wasn’t for the defensive treasures he had commandeered from Galau he might have actually met his end then and there.

Thankfully he managed to escape from the assassin’s pursuit, and he quickly disappeared into one of the neighboring kingdoms. However, the wounds were too severe, and he had fallen unconscious outside this Uynala’s farmstead.

“Are you sure you don’t want to enter the path of cultivation?” Ogras asked as he looked at the girl lying in the bed.

“Only problems will come from that. Life is beautiful because it is short. Why would I want to prolong it just to fill it with bloodshed?” Uynala said with disapproval. “Look at that wound on your chest. Is it really worth it?”

Ogras only smiled in response as he finished dressing and walked out of the small house. He didn’t have a specific place in mind, but rather simply chose to walk a while to loosen up. One day on the inside meant roughly 15 minutes on the outside. He might find himself in deep shit real soon and needed to be ready.

The massive gash in his chest was still a bit troublesome, but he would be able to fight at full power without issue. Hopefully, it wouldn’t come to that though. Zac should have reached a floor high enough to scare off any attempt at their lives, and if not he would serve as an excellent lightning rod for their attacks until they tired themselves out.

The demon found himself on top of a small hill soon enough, and Ogras took a deep breath as he looked around at the quiet vale where he had stayed the past days. The world of cultivators and immortals was almost completely cut off from this little community. The strongest person he had encountered was an old hunter who was level 29.

People worked their fields and lived off the land, without strife or any real suffering. Their lives were short but fulfilling. Uynala would probably marry someone from the community, and their three weeks together would turn into a hazy memory of an adolescent escapade.

“Is it worth it…?” Ogras mumbled as he looked up at the sky. “Definitely.”

He donned a mask and robe and crushed his token the next moment, not sparing the house and its savior another look. A brief bout of darkness shrouded his surroundings until the world exploded into colors.

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The beautiful lake was hidden deep within the mountains, untouched for thousands of years. Not a ripple could be seen on its surface, making it seem like a perfect mirror that reflected the heavens above. If one looked from a certain angle it would be impossible to discern which sky was real and which one was fake.

A scream suddenly broke the tranquility of the secluded mountain as a harried cultivator desperately fled for his life. A group of warriors was high on his heels, and the man’s back was covered in wounds. He looked back and forth, but there was nowhere to hide. He knew he would have to make a final stand if he wanted to break free.

An hour later the same man slowly breached the crest of the mountain housing the tranquil pond, and his eyes lit up when he saw the inviting waters. He had barely survived the ordeal, and he was grievously wounded and without provisions. But at least he could drink his fill.

The man dipped his hands in the pond, causing a ripple spread across the tranquil surface. If the man hadn’t been completely focused on quenching his thirst he would have noticed a shocking change in his surroundings. Just as the pond rippled from his actions, so did the sky above.

Heavens and lake mirrored each other, and it was impossible to tell which was which.

But his mind was occupied with thoughts of escape, and he lamented the fact that he couldn’t simply sprout wings and fly away, leaving his problems behind. He was so engrossed in his escapism he didn’t even notice how the air behind him shuddered as two crystalline wings appeared on his back. He only kept drinking the icy cold water, feeling it was the most delectable thing ever.

He finally managed to quench his thirst, and the moment his hand left the pond the ripples disappeared, once again turning into a mirror. The man looked down at his reflection again, feeling that he wasn’t as harried any longer.

There was something odd about him though, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. Did he get the feeling because of the wound across his chest? No matter. The important thing was that he would be able to keep moving for a bit longer.

He jumped off from the ground, his wings vigorously pushing through the air to lift him into the sky. The warrior soon soared among the clouds and set off toward the sunset. Each beat of his wings filled his tired soul with a sense of freedom as trees and hilltops flashed by beneath. But his sense of euphoria slowly dimmed down and was replaced with a creeping unease.

Something was wrong.

He had sensed it before, and the feeling only became more and more palpable as time passed. It was like he was dream walking, where the world wasn’t true and correct as he had always known it.

The wings!

Since when did he have wings?! What were these crystalline monstrosities attached to his back? Was this some curse the guards of his family had placed on him before being struck down? But he had never heard of anything like it.

Incongruous emotions clashed in his mind, memories of a life in the heavens, and memories of a life on the ground. But the memories of soaring among the clouds soon shattered, turning into crystalline shards that floated away.