Chapter 286: The Lucky Fellow

Once a formal space for receiving guests and staging missions, the main hall of the cursebinding spire had been utterly transformed.

Elegant tables had been dragged into place, surrounded by chairs hastily gathered from all corners. Despite the tasteful decor, the atmosphere was like that of an open-air festival, warm and unrestrained.

It had been half a day since Wang Yu had slaughtered three devils in the void. Lilya had insisted on throwing a celebratory feast.

And who could argue with her? Wang Yu had done the impossible and saved Mira from the devils’ grasp. With the devils wiped out once and for all, these wizards specialized in dealing with void-related problems had their workload cut at least in half.

“We spend most of our time cooped up in our rooms, buried in research,” she reasoned. “Sure, it helps us grow stronger faster, but without a bit of carefree fun, we just might lose our minds. You never know when someone’s about to crack and fall prey to the void.”

Her logic was unassailable. A feast, she claimed, was not only necessary but a benefit to the spire’s healthy development. As for funding? “Just dip into the construction budget. It all serves the greater good.”

Everyone was used to her antics and let her have her way. A diversion would be nice, after all.

This world lacked the variety of entertainment available on Earth. Outside of powerful potions that could send one into delirium, entertainment for transcendents was practically nonexistent. A feast like this was a rare splash of color on the gray canvas of routine.

“So, how’s the Nightblades lately?” Wang Yu asked, seated at a table among old companions. He raised a brow at Charles, grinning. “I’ve got to admit, I’m a bit worried about you becoming the new commander. I’d trust someone like Mr. Gilbert more.”

“Hey! That’s harsh,” Charles protested. “I’m the heir to an old noble house, you know! After the new nobles were purged, the rest of us rose in status.

“And I’m not exactly incompetent either. Sure, maybe Gilbert’s still better at the job… okay, much better… but you didn’t have to say it out loud! That’s just rude.”

When he realized that his rant was only proving Wang Yu’s point, he trailed off and slumped like a deflated balloon.

Edward chuckled. “He’s not that bad. Plenty of flaws, of course, but the Professor himself reviewed his performance in the interim and was satisfied. Nightblades don’t have much admin staff to begin with. Charles was able to earn the Professor’s approval while juggling two roles—that’s impressive.”

Charles lit up. “Edward, I’m so touched! I didn’t think you’d ever back me up. C’mere, lemme give you a hug!”

Charles lunged toward Edward, only to be unceremoniously pushed away with a scowl.

Ignoring the squabbling duo, Wang Yu turned to Sieg. “So the royal family’s done targeting the Nightblades? Have they shifted their focus to consolidating power from the noble factions?”

“Exactly,” Sieg said. “They’ve realized the Nightblades, for all their low profile, possess far more strength than expected—veterans with formidable skills, skilled craftsmen, deep ties to the Church of Light… Trying to wrest control of them outright would be a disastrous undertaking.

“What’s more, with the Prayer Network, the Nightblades have shed the last of their shackles.

“So now the royal family’s letting them operate freely. They’re handing over problematic void-related affairs to the Nightblades while tightening their grip elsewhere.”

Wang Yu nodded. It was a pragmatic compromise. The four border dukes—nominally under the control of the crown but essentially autonomous—and the ancient organization of the Nightblades could not be forced into submission.

Even if the upstart nobles had been cleaned out and the whole of Selwyn subsumed into Aleisterre, the royalty hadn’t managed to wrestle much more power for themselves.

After all, this was a world of transcendence. Who knew what masters lay hidden among the common folk?

The Nightblades were a storied organization that had trained and honed talents for time immemorial. For the moment, the royal family had no choice but to treat the Nightblades as equals—as if the Nightblades as a whole were a fifth Grand Duke of Aleisterre.

“In short, the royals decided they can’t fully dominate the kingdom just yet,” Sieg continued. “Better to empower the Nightblades—let apolitical people do practical work.

“Over time, as they convert Selwyn’s territory into tangible strength, they’ll focus on consolidating power from the top. That’s real governance.”

Wang Yu agreed that it was a clear signal. Appointing Charles, scion of the Ryder family, as the Nightblade commander had surely been part of that signal.

“Wait a minute,” Charles said, frowning. “Edward, you said the Professor approved of me, but you didn’t say you did. Do you secretly think I’m hopeless like Wang Yu?”

Edward ignored him and turned back to Wang Yu. “The Nightblades have changed. In addition to the public task force, we’ve established a covert arm using Captain Hugin’s network—and your old idea of an Assassins’ Brotherhood as a model.”

“Hey! Don’t change the subject!” Charles whined. “You really don’t think I’m up to it, huh? Rude!”

No one paid him any mind.

“We call it the ‘Isolated Fang.’ I lead it,” Edward said calmly. “We handle what the Nightblades can’t—or shouldn’t. People, problems, nobles who need to be dealt with.”

He produced a metal insignia from his belt and placed it on the table. A dagger hidden in shadow—nothing like the ornate sigil of the Nightblades. It was simple, deadly, and direct.

Wang Yu had to admit that it fit this new branch of the Nightblades to a tee.

“Wendy, are you part of this new group too?” Wang Yu asked, surprised. He hadn’t seen the red-haired knight since the academy incident.

“Yep. Long time no see, Wang Yu! Turns out Master Barrett used to train knights for the Nightblades. Once I learned about that, I asked to join. He put in a word for me—maybe to make up for what my grandfather did.”

She smiled brightly. Though she had grown more mature, she was still the cheerful girl Wang Yu remembered. He was glad to see that she’d recovered from the ordeal.

“Hey, enough talking! The food’s coming,” Charles interrupted. “We rushed here to help you, remember? We earned this feast.”

Avia approached with levitating platters, the aroma of her dishes washing over the table. She set them down and took a seat beside Wang Yu.

“Naturally. Avia even prepared these dishes herself.”

Wang Yu grinned and grabbed his utensils, ready to dig in.

“Whoa, that is good! Hey! Don’t hog it all! Leave some for me!”

Charles nodded approvingly. Avia’s cooking was amazing, and he was jealous that Wang Yu got to enjoy it regularly. By the time he broke out of his reverie and discovered that everyone else had already begun eating, he quickly fought to claim his own share as well.

Wang Yu tore into a chunk of roast meat. It was smoky, juicy, and rich with flavor. He washed it down with extra-sour fruit juice that Avia had prepared just for him as a palate cleanser.

More dishes appeared. Wizards-turned-chefs served their own food before joining the table. Laughter mingled with the clatter of cutlery. It was rowdy, real, and utterly delightful.

Wang Yu felt like he’d stumbled into a hometown wedding back on Earth—surrounded by distant relatives he barely knew, free of social pressure, just sharing stories and basking in the joy of companionship.

“Guess I was never meant to be a loner,” he thought aloud. “Helping where I can—it’s not a bad way to live.”

His heart was full to bursting. These people—these friends—had all come running when he needed them. The little kindnesses he’d offered over time had been returned tenfold.

Charles, mid-bite, glanced at Wang Yu. “The captain was right,” he thought. “Wang Yu’s path won’t be like his. He’s not alone, and he never will be.”

A smile filled his face—and then he shook his head and hurried to claim whatever was left of Avia’s cooking.

Time passed swiftly. As the sun dipped and the magical moon rose, the feast wound down.

Lilya was drunk and giggling like a fool. Garcia and Avia helped her back to her room—both to care for her and to keep her from disturbing the still-recuperating Mira.

“I’ve got this one,” Edward said, hoisting a limp Charles onto his shoulder. He had tried to prove that he could hold his liquor, but without a knight’s constitution to back him up, he ended up passing out in disgrace.

Wang Yu waved him off, then wandered to a balcony alone. He wasn’t drunk—he hadn’t even touched alcohol, really—and his constitution made intoxication nearly impossible anyway.

Just like when he had first come to this world, he leaned on the railing, gazing at the silhouette of a mountain in the distance and the clear starlit sky.

The sky here was so much clearer than Earth’s. No matter how many times he gazed up at it, it never lost its wonder.

“I’ve been here a long time,” he murmured. “I wonder how things are back on Earth… If time flows at the same rate, that could be a problem…”

He scratched his chin, sighing. Years had passed. He’d experienced things most people never would. Yet Earth remained a mystery. He had found no clues, no way home.

Even Wang Yu, usually unburdened by sentiment, couldn’t help but feel a little wistful. He wasn’t exactly pining for love or leisure, but it was a similar feeling.

With the three devils slain, his worries had eased. The feast had filled him with warmth—and stirred up a faint nostalgia in his mind.

“I’m still not strong enough… but there’s no rushing it,” he mused. “Half luck, half effort, and a generous helping of plot armor. From nobody to grand knight in a few years—I’ve done well, all things considered. I should work on consolidating my growth now.”

He whistled, brushing aside his melancholy. There was no use in brooding. The path forward was clear: as he got stronger, someday, he would find the answers he needed.

“You seem troubled,” came a familiar voice from his side, soft yet sudden. Wang Yu turned. The Lady of the Night stood beside him. She was taller than him by a good margin, and her presence radiated with calmness.

“I’m fine,” he said. “Just… missing home a little. What brings you here?”

Wang Yu hadn’t expected the Lady of the Night to appear out of nowhere.

“As a responsible deity, is it so unusual for me to check in on her archbishop?” the Lady of the Night asked gently. “If you miss home, why not return for a visit?”

Wang Yu’s brow twitched. Lately, the Lady of the Night had developed a fondness for answering questions with, “Because I’m a deity.” And annoyingly, Wang Yu couldn’t exactly refute her—she was a deity, after all.

“You know I’m… different,” he said at last, leaning on the rail. He raised a middle finger toward the magical moon shining in the night sky.

“My hometown’s not just far away. It’s in another world entirely. Think of me as someone from a very distant plane. As far as I know, nothing in this world can bridge that gap.”

He didn’t feel any need to keep his secret hidden—at least, not to the Lady of the Night. His close friends already knew of it; likely, he would need their help to search for a method back home in the future.

“Do you want to go back?” she asked softly.

“Yeah, I do. Mostly to check on my parents. They’re ordinary people, and raising me wasn’t easy. I just vanished. I imagine they’ve searched the world for me…”

His voice trailed off. He did enjoy the life he’d built here, but his heart had never left the people who had loved him unconditionally.

Wang Yu was no longer the hot-blooded teen he once was. Years of work and life experience had mellowed him out, long since smoothing over the youthful tensions he’d once had with his parents.

Most people didn’t think too deeply about such things—but Wang Yu himself found the depictions of familial kinship from stories and games resonating with him in haunting clarity.

The game Pagui, for instance, was a tale about a mother and child torn apart by war. Refusing to give up hope, the mother had spent a lifetime pushing a cart from town to town searching for her child.

In her twilight years, she stumbled upon a roadside shrine—only to see her child’s funeral portrait staring back. A breath caught between grief and peace became her last.

There was a webnovel he had read, Calamity of Tomorrow, in which the protagonist had vanished without a trace. His parents spent all their life savings to plaster missing person notices across China. They searched for their son for decades, their days repeating over and over in ritual prayer—to no avail. It had left a deep impression on Wang Yu.

Such tales were easy to gloss over as mere stories—but at the time, he had been fully invested in them.

Wang Yu didn’t pretend to know his parents as well as he should. He had no idea what they would do if he were to suddenly vanish from their lives. And that was reason enough to find out—he had to confirm that they were doing alright.

“I can make peace with it,” he murmured. “But I won’t run from it.”

That was the conclusion he came to. The responsibility on his shoulders didn’t vanish just because he had crossed through worlds.

He could accept failure after giving his all. But telling himself it was too hard and not trying at all? That wasn’t who he was. Whatever others thought, he didn’t care.

“Good luck,” came the Lady of the Night’s voice, low and gentle.

He felt a soft embrace from behind. Cool, shadowy arms wrapped around him. The contact was strange, almost unreal… but not unpleasant.

“Thank you.”

Wang Yu’s eyes widened in surprise. He certainly hadn’t expected a hug, not least from the Lady of the Night.

“Do I really look that starved for affection?”

He muttered the thought to himself, then turned and leaned back against the railing. A faint smile lifted the corners of his mouth. Missing home… that was normal. It was nothing to be ashamed of.

The Lady had already vanished, her presence gone as quietly as it had appeared.

“Sleep sounds pretty good,” he muttered. “I took down three nasty devils today—I’m feeling lots better already. I should ask ‘One’ about the rest of the devils. If it comes to it… maybe we can take the fight to them.”

He stretched his arms. A good night’s rest was one of life’s true luxuries.

“Wang Yu! There you are!”

His foot stopped mid-step as a familiar voice rang out. Avia was scanning the balcony as she descended the stairs scanning the balcony. Upon spotting him, she jogged over.

“You’re not with your mother?” he asked once she reached his side.

“She’s still sleeping,” Avia replied. “The damage to her soul built up over years. Healing will take time. Aunt Lilya might be drunk, but she knows better than to disturb her.”

They leaned side by side on the railing, gazing out at the sky.

“When I noticed you weren’t around, I came to find you. There’s something I want to tell you. It’s… probably important.”

She clenched her fists slightly, voice earnest.

“Oh?”

Wang Yu tilted his head, watching the unusual smile on her face. He reached over and ruffled her hair, his mood growing lighter without even realizing it.

“Well, while you were in the void, I used the Perfect Fractal to collect all kinds of data about the void, and how the Gate of Phases spell behaves inside it.

Her eyes lit up with excitement. “By comparing the properties of the void and the material world, and combining it with the spatial theory I’ve been studying, I think I may have found a commonality between the two realms.

“If I can get more records from the library in Skyborne City… we might uncover a lead into your homeworld.”

She looked into his eyes, breathless with possibility.

Wang Yu laughed, warm and bright, and pulled her into a one-armed hug. “That’s incredible. Really.”

Avia’s cheeks flushed, but she leaned naturally against his shoulder.

“I just realized… I’m really a lucky guy.”

Avia smiled and inclined her head. She didn’t say anything, but deep in her heart, she remembered that old promise they had made together. She had never forgotten it.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep