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Chapter 92 is a good chair
Chapter 92 is a good chair
The chair fell to the ground, scattering bricks and stones everywhere.
Looking around the church after the attack by the Mist of Sorrow, all the conscious gods and demons were wiped out, and even the Spirit Erosion was affected and disappeared without a trace. It was the only survivor seen so far.
Nan'an dared not underestimate it.
The skinned buffalo attempted to teleport by tearing open space with its hide, but was still killed in an unknown way by the Weeping Mist, yet the chair remained intact.
Either it possesses a teleportation ability that is more efficient than that of a water buffalo.
Either it is immune to the special attack of the Mist of Mourning.
If it's the latter, that's strange.
Upon their first encounter, Nan'an clearly sensed the message it conveyed—"Get on."
Is it merely a sensory movement similar to a Venus flytrap hunting its prey, devoid of conscious activity?
"Get in—"
As they approached the rocking chair, Nan'an and Suiyue both heard it, seemingly an echo from the depths of their minds.
Like water droplets dripping from a leaky tap, creating ripples.
Last time, when the situation was critical, Nan'an mistakenly thought it was a ploy, but it was actually more like a plain and unremarkable narrative, only the constant echoes gave it a strong sense of urgency.
Seeing Nan'an resting his hand on the armrest of the rocking chair, Suiyue suddenly had a bad feeling.
"What are you going to do?"
"If I realize something is wrong, I will have you cancel the summoning."
Without further hesitation, Nan'an took a seat.
The chair slumped slightly as I sat down, making a soft creaking sound.
He closed his eyes, waiting for something to happen.
Something is churning—
The feeling came from the depths of his thoughts, like an undercurrent surging in the deep sea. Whenever Nan'an tried to touch it, it would glide away as lightly as a fish, always separated by an invisible barrier, perceptible but unattainable.
A sense of weariness washed over me.
Like the evening sunlight slowly creeping across the windowsill and into the study, reminding you that night has fallen.
Like warm water slowly flowing over your body from your fingertips, the warmth seeps into your limbs and bones, bringing a pleasant and soothing feeling to your body.
Nan'an could feel as if he were standing on the dividing line between wakefulness and slumber.
Being able to perceive both sides simultaneously, yet being unable to truly step into either side, is itself a symbol of clarity.
The rocking chair was exerting its power, and the divine and demonic forces were expanding their influence as much as possible.
With his eyes half-closed and hazy, he couldn't help but recall Vahedeen's question—why did the influence of divine and demonic power seem to take effect selectively?
Throughout the summoning ritual, he remained fully conscious.
Thanks to the summoning mechanism being detached from individual consciousness and originating from the world itself, Nan'an was able to multitask and report his safety to Suiyue.
Outside of the summoning ritual, Nan'an's consciousness gradually sank, its edges beginning to blur, like ink spreading in water.
At this moment, physical perception is distant and blurred, separated by a thin mist.
The rocking chair's efforts finally paid off; after nearly two minutes, the power of gods and demons successfully captured it.
The chaotic scene, like a flood bursting its banks, surged in from all directions.
A burning sky, a cracked earth, and twisted figures struggling in the flames.
Something enormous beyond description was slowly crawling along the dark horizon.
The silent film ended, and deafening explosions rang out from all directions, jolting Nan'an awake.
Countless magicians stood on an icy plain.
No, this isn't an ice field.
Looking ahead from Nan'an, the waves surged and the undercurrents roared, as if some giant beast was swimming beneath the dark surface of the water.
It's not an ice field, it's the sea.
The magician solidified the vast seawater into a solid layer of ice, stood on the ice, and hurled all sorts of magic spells at the black mist churning on the distant sea.
The dazzling light of the ritual array illuminated the dark seawater, and the irregular ridges of the monster beneath the water in the distance flashed by.
Countless magic circles hung upside down in the sky, and a rain of light orbs, as dazzling as fireworks, fell, stirring up the roaring sea.
A line of flying dragons came from behind.
They roared as they swept across the sky, which shimmered with magical light, their massive jaws wide open, dragon breath brewing deep within their throats, about to burst forth.
Hundreds of lasers shot out from the darkness in the distance.
The lasers, saturated with energy, wove a dazzling yet deadly net, causing the colossal creatures to explode into clouds of blood mist in mid-air. Their mournful cries ceased abruptly upon impact with the sea.
A sharp whooshing sound rang out above Nan'an's head. He subconsciously looked up, and his powerful dynamic vision made it difficult for him to catch sight of the object about to fall into the ice.
Countless metal coffins!
The coffin hit the ground, and a deafening explosion once again engulfed the surroundings.
As if he were already part of the scene, he fell into the icy sea along with the screaming magicians around him.
The shrieking sounds around his ears were distorted by the rush of water flooding his eardrums; the real feeling of drowning and suffocation made him instinctively want to grab onto something—
"Help!"
"~~~~"
"Get up, little bard of Southampton!"
A pair of large, hairy hands reached down powerfully from the water's surface and grabbed Nan'an by the back of his collar.
During the second bout of suffocation with his throat being choked by the collar, Nan'an was casually tossed aside by those large hands and fell onto the soft grass mat. The fresh scent of hay mixed with the smell of earth filled his nostrils.
"Isn't that a bit too rough, quail?"
"Hmph, it's always the same. They say they earn money by risking their lives, and their only hobby is sleeping."
"But Nan'an really doesn't have any other hobbies, quack~~"
"That's why people like him are the most boring."
Those big, hairy hands pressed directly onto Nan'an's face.
"Oh dear~~~~ Wake up, we're going to the city-state to maintain our equipment. If you like getting moldy in the village, then keep sleeping."
"Aren't you getting up? Fine, Tish, #@#&；*￥!, let's go."
Two people pushed open the door and went out, their footsteps fading into the distance.
"Croak—are you bullying Nan'an again?"
The darkness, like a tide, slowly receded, and the bone-chilling cold of the seawater that had seeped into my body vanished without a trace.
The moment I opened my eyes, the sun shone brightly outside the simple, drafty thatched cottage, filling every corner of the room, and even the dust particles in the air were clearly visible.
A familiar, large face is right in front of me.
The Red Rat Adventure Team's support character, Tish, was breathing cold air towards the straw mat where Nan'an was sleeping.
"Whoa, what are you doing!"
Nan'an jumped up instantly, and after the subconscious reaction, he was stunned for a long time.
That's so true.
It's like going back to the past.
Even knowing it was the rocking chair that was responsible, Nan An still couldn't help but reach out and press her hands on Tish's big face, gently squeezing it.
Asripan loved doing this, which is why Nanan once complained that she also had a very childish side.
"Wow, so little Nan'an is such a mature adult. He's just a little kid, yet he's giving the captain pointers?"
"In that case, you must never let me see you do anything similar to that immaturely again."
Just kidding, Nan'an really wants to try it out!
But since Aslipan had said that, he would never allow himself to be laughed at.
So even until his death, he never got to properly pinch Tish's big face—the feel of a frogman is different from that of a slime.
I thought it would be a bit sticky and rough, but perhaps due to Tish's mutated constitution, it was mostly sticky and mucus.
The frogman race always releases mucus to keep their skin moist. In emergencies, with the help of frogmen to purify and filter it, it can even be drunk as a mini mana-replenishing beverage.
Nan'an really didn't want to know this kind of weird little knowledge.
"Whoosh!!"
not good!
Nan'an realized something was wrong, but it was too late.
The wooden door of the thatched hut was blown away by a strange force and smashed into the wall, half of its body shattered on the ground.
Aslipan leaned against the doorframe with her elbow, elegantly resting her chin on her hand, looking puzzled.
"It's quite surprising that our great Pure Ones are more interested in frogmen?"
Tissy silently stepped back: "Quack, there might be some misunderstanding, quack, Nan'an isn't awake yet, quack."
Aslipan scratched the downy hair on her cheek: "Pure One, are you going to accept Tish's excuse, which sounds like she's having an affair?"
Nan An stroked his chin: "The reason I wasn't called a childish idiot right away was when Tish had just joined the group, when everyone had just gotten to know each other, and Athley Pan hadn't made his move yet—"
About two and a half years after the time travel? That's interesting.
The timing of the rocking chair choice inexplicably suited his taste.
Two years ago, Nanan and Aslipan, as the core of the Red Rats, were constantly welcoming and seeing off people.
A year earlier, Aslipan had brought back the bookworm that everyone hated.
With this, the Red Rat Adventure Team had a stable basic structure.
It wasn't until Tish, the support carry, was brought back by Asripan's keen eye that the team's situation of having only a bunch of squishy damage dealers was changed.
If you were to switch to another adventure group, they would just think the group is crazy.
"You mean, a team that's all damage dealers, with no support or guerrilla-style scout roles, yet they can fight for half a year without losing any members?"
Nan'an could only answer them.
Attacking is the right thing to do.
If the damage output is high enough and the kills are fast enough, there will be no pressure on the support.
"Feed~~!"
"Wake up!"
"Commander, why does Nan'an look so silly—did you strangle it?"
"No, he's very resilient."
"But he really was grinning like an idiot."
'
""
As Nanan raised his hand, grabbed his head, and began to rub it, Aslipan panicked.
Something's not right. Something's nine out of ten things is wrong.
Is this the Nan'an they know?
"Let the bookworm come and take a look; something's not quite right with Xiao Nan'an."
Aslipan dared not push away Nanan, who was still furiously rubbing the wolf's head, for fear of causing further injury.
Nan'an felt a little nervous upon hearing the word "bookworm".
Can you do it?
The rocking chair, which even the current Nora scholars have searched through ancient books for but could not find, could it really be recreated?
The dream began to tremble.
Centered on him, the surrounding scenery began to crack and break apart.
The cracks spread outwards like a spider web.
Climbing over the walls of the thatched hut, over the sun-drenched ground, over the shadows of Aslipan and Tishi —
Dense, snow-like noise surged from the cracks, like the image that appears at the end of an old film reel, alternating between black and white, flickering erratically.
Suiyue stared wide-eyed in reality.
She saw the rocking chair shaking violently, its wooden frame creaking as if gripped tightly by an invisible hand.
Cracks and noise continued to spread in the dream until they covered every corner of the thatched hut.
A figure appeared at the door of the dilapidated thatched hut.
The moment she appeared, all the cracks, noise, and color changes receded like the tide, and the world was once again bathed in vibrant colors.
Nan'an was stunned.
That's not a bookworm.
Or rather, he was a bookworm, but not quite.
The rocking chair did not restore her original appearance; it merely roughly outlined a glowing silhouette.
The woman, who was two heads shorter than Nan'an, radiated a soft yet dazzling white light.
The light was so bright that no details could be seen.
She stood there, out of place with everything around her, as if she were on a different level from everyone else.
"Has this idiot really died of stupidity?"
The sound was crystal clear.
With familiar disdain and indifference, and an impatient air of "Why are you causing me trouble again?"
But the voice wasn't the nerd's original voice either.
During the summoning ritual, Suiyue exclaimed in surprise, "Why is it me speaking?!"
Nan An sighed and pursed his lips.
I still can't do it, but—everything is fine except for being a bookworm.
"It's a good chair, I'll take it."