Farewell and a New Journey

When Angel left the Barbie Restaurant, the moon had already quietly climbed up from the horizon into the sky.

The stars filled the sky like a ladle, reflected upon the sea. The black ocean seemed carpeted in countless flickering fireflies, breathtakingly beautiful. A swell of waves surged up, shattering the firefly-like ripples, then setting the gentle moonlight trembling once more.

For Angel, what had happened today was somewhat beyond imagination. For now, he could not tell whether it was good or bad, but he knew that it was time to bid farewell to his ordinary past.

Standing at the entrance of the childlike restaurant, Sanders said slowly, "Tonight, go back to the Bauhinia and pack your luggage. Flora will come pick you up tomorrow morning."

After saying that, Sanders nodded at Angel, then waved his cane and directed the Falcon Demon, which had been standing by all along, to send Angel back to the deck of the Bauhinia.

Angel stood on the deck, watching the two figures gradually fly out of sight. The dazzling starry sky was the backdrop, and the gigantic Cloud Whale was Canaan. Tomorrow, he too would board a drifting vessel and begin a new journey.

The road ahead stretched endlessly. An unknown future could always make one lose their way. A flicker of confusion crossed Angel's face. He stood on the deck for quite some time, only jolting awake when people had gathered all around him.

"Hey, hey, what did you go into that building over there for?"

"What's it like inside? Oh, right—what's your name? Are you from Hurricane Tower?"

"Who were the people on that giant bird just now? Do you know them?"

"Why did that freak dressed as a ballet dancer take you inside? Do you know them?"

The Gifted aboard the Bauhinia had all eagerly crowded around him with questions. Angel swept his gaze over them. Some wore envy on their faces, some jealousy, some curiosity, some flattery, and some indifference.

The noisy voices entered Angel's ears. Even though some of the questions carried defiance and others slander, he inexplicably felt reassured.

At the Barbie Restaurant, he had always felt as though he were walking upon clouds—adrift, yet with nothing to rely on. For an ordinary person, the fact that he had managed to remain calm throughout his time in the restaurant was already no small feat.

Only now did he descend from the clouds and return to solid ground.

The clamor, bustle, and immaturity of the Gifted around him all told him that he had returned to the human world. Yet that inexplicable contrast made him feel at ease.

Perhaps this was the mindset a mortal ought to have while he was still a mortal.

Angel did not answer their questions. He merely apologized to everyone, then passed through the crowd amid their puzzled gazes and walked back to his room, one firm step at a time.

This was a night destined to be sleepless, whether for Angel or for the others aboard the Bauhinia.

Angel leaned against the window, countless thoughts flowing through his mind.

The moonlight was gentle, brimming softly across his entire view. The sea glittered with rippling light, reflected in his clear eyes.

The world was ever-changing. Where had one been a moment ago, and where would one be the next? Life's journey was forever filled with the unknown. One set out in trepidation; whether wind, rain, or surging waves lay ahead, they were no more than scenery along the way.

Angel suddenly understood many things. He even felt that, after this night, perhaps he could study Earth's religions and philosophies. With idealistic thought alone, one could control a person's emotions. Whether religious doctrines or chicken soup for the soul, wasn't that what they were all about?

It was not until the moon hung high at midnight that Angel came back to himself.

Tomorrow, he would leave the Bauhinia and embark on a new journey. His cheap mentor had given him one night to sort out his luggage and settle the loose ends. He could not keep wasting it here wallowing in self-pity.

Angel quickly got to work.

The first thing, naturally, was sorting through his luggage. He did not have much: aside from changes of clothes and a small amount of daily necessities, the largest portion was actually the books he had bought in Sea Moon City, filling two large wooden chests.

Nearly all the books inside were rare leather-bound volumes, with only a small number being pulp-paper editions. Though their workmanship was not as refined as books produced by nobles, they were still considered fine works among the common folk.

Angel wanted to bring both chests of rare books with him, because to him, books represented knowledge. Nothing was more important than knowledge. Both Jon and Sanders had taught him that.

But... he could not carry two chests by himself...

Could he ask his mentor to carry them? At the thought of his mentor carrying a chest for him, the image was simply too unbearable to look at. Angel did not dare dwell on it.

After thinking it over for a long while, Angel still decided to give up on bringing the two chests of books.

He had already scanned the books into the Holographic Tablet. The reason he found it so difficult to part with them was simply his love for rare books.

Since he had decided not to take the chests with him, he naturally had to find suitable owners for them. Casually discarding books was not the conduct of someone who loved books.

The only people Angel knew aboard the ship were Moro and the Alan siblings. Moro was not someone with whom he shared the bonds of companionship, so giving the books to him would not be appropriate. Besides, given Moro's breadth of knowledge, he might not think much of books compiled by ordinary people.

Therefore, Angel planned to leave the two chests of books to the Alan siblings.

The clock showed that it was eleven at night. Angel did not know when he would be leaving tomorrow, so even if the Alan siblings had already gone to sleep, he still intended to go over and see them.

Perhaps because the food illusion during the day had caused widespread injuries among the Gifted aboard the Bauhinia, as Angel passed through the cramped, narrow corridors, he could clearly hear some people wailing in pain and others weeping alone.

As Angel walked on, the sorrow in his heart grew heavier and heavier.

He was not some saint, nor did he pity the injured. His sorrow came from only one thing: seeing himself in their plight.

Seeing those who, like himself, stood at the very bottom of the wizarding world suffer such an outcome because they could not control their own fates, he felt only grief.

Especially since he knew the truth behind the illusion—

It had merely been a mirage that naturally arose when a food wizard created food.

No wizard had deliberately oppressed them. Yet merely the aura inadvertently leaking out had plunged the Gifted aboard the entire ship into endless terror.

What else could be said? This was the fate of the weak in the wizarding world.

And Angel himself was currently just such a weak person. His sorrow was merely the melancholy of someone who likewise could not take command of his own fate.

After passing through several intersecting passageways, Angel found where the Alan siblings lived.

The siblings' rooms were located at the end of a branch corridor, directly opposite each other so they could look after one another. Such an arrangement was surely Moro's handiwork.

When Angel arrived, he discovered to his surprise that Irene's door was slightly ajar. Soft sobs came from within, and if he listened closely, he could also hear Alan's gentle voice comforting her.

Angel did not eavesdrop. He knocked lightly on the door, and after hearing, "Come in," he pushed it open.

After opening the door, Angel was surprised to find that not only were the Alan siblings there, but Moro, dressed in black robes, was there as well.