Chapter 2141: Chapter 2142: Little Sam

Revelation Continent, along the Eastern Sea, Dawn Town, Holy Resonance Farm.

Little Sam hurriedly ran out of the farm owner’s room, his face pale, his hands still trembling, the whole person seemed to have lost his mind.

It wasn’t until he collided with the wine-serving maid at the corner that he came to his senses.

"Little Sam? How did you get inside the estate? Don’t you know the master hates it when slaves enter..." The wine-serving maid hadn’t finished speaking when she suddenly froze, her gaze fixed on Little Sam’s hand.

A large amount of blood covered Little Sam from his elbow to his cuff, and then to his palm.

The wine-serving maid couldn’t believe what she was seeing. She looked at Little Sam, then back in the direction he came from, and pointed at him with a trembling finger, "You, you are..."

"I... I didn’t mean to." Little Sam’s face showed some panic as he brushed away the maid’s hand and ran outside.

Not long after Little Sam ran away, he clearly heard the maid’s scream.

"I didn’t mean to kill him, it wasn’t on purpose, he was forcing me." Little Sam repeated to himself, and when he rushed out of the estate door, looked at the vast farm outside, and the passing herders, his eyes suddenly turned deep: "No, if I go out like this, I’ll be discovered. I need to calm down."

"Killed him, killed that beast. If I’m caught, I’ll surely die. I must leave here."

Little Sam took a deep breath, forced himself to calm down, took off his blood-stained coat and threw it into a sewage pit, walked to a nearby bucket, and washed the blood off his hands.

Then he acted nonchalantly and walked toward the outside.

Along the way, many people saw Little Sam, and some noticed his pale face and asked a few questions, but he dismissed them with exhaustion as an excuse.

Until he was about to reach the farm gate, behind him came the noise and shouts for his capture.

There were already few people directly in front of Little Sam, and without looking back to see the situation, he ran straight for the outside.

He was lucky; the guards at the farm gate had not yet received the news, and they did not stop him, allowing him to rush onto a path leading into the wild.

Running through the dense forest, Little Sam finally exhaled slightly.

But not long after he relaxed, he became alert again. Because when he looked back, he realized he had stepped on many dead branches along the way. Without his coat to conceal, his arms bore scratches, and from time to time, he left behind trails of red on the ground.

"They’ll definitely be found by trackers," Little Sam thought, "I can’t stop, I must keep running."

Little Sam continued running toward the darkened forest, this time taking care not to leave any traces.

As he ran, Little Sam kept thinking to himself, "That bastard might just be a farm owner, but the nobility in town often visit the estate to secretly meet with him. Maybe the nobility were involved in that incident. So, I can’t go back to town; the sheriff is surely in league with that bastard. I must stay away from Dawn Town... Ideally, I should leave the Silver Vein Principality altogether."

"But where should I go?" Little Sam wondered, "What should I do about the future?"

Little Sam didn’t want to think about the future, but he killed someone, and moreover, as a slave, he killed the farm owner. Even with an inside story, it wouldn’t earn him any sympathy. In the Silver Vein Principality, he no longer had a place to stand.

Escape was the only option. But even if he managed to flee to other countries, he had no identity, a branded slave mark on his body. Perhaps on the whole Revelation Continent, there was no safe place for him.

Could it be that he had to escape overseas? But how could he?

The future seemed bleak. All of this happened because he killed the farm owner, but if he hadn’t, he would have died.

The hopeless future is always better than eternal extinction, right? Little Sam told himself that.

"No matter what, I just want to live." Little Sam dared not think of the future anymore because if he truly dwelled on the hopeless future, he feared he would be persuaded by death.

Little Sam was now focused entirely on leaving, rushing through this forest, taking the path to White Sea Bay, then across the strait to other countries.

After running for about six or seven hours, with the curtain of night already drawn, he reached a small hill. As he looked back from the mountainside, he saw the faint light of torches in the distant forest; though he couldn’t see who the torches belonged to, he vaguely heard the sound of barking dogs carried by the night wind.

The tracking dogs bred by the town’s Knight cohort!

Little Sam glared fiercely at the distant firelight, exhaled a turbid breath, and turned to run towards the other side.

He hadn’t eaten anything and was so hungry he could barely run, but he dared not stop.

But even so, Little Sam already vaguely knew in his heart that he probably couldn’t escape. He couldn’t evade the keen nose of the tracking dogs... in at most half an hour, he would be caught.

Yet despite knowing the outcome, Little Sam still wanted to try. Maybe, just maybe he could find a river ahead to wash away his scent.

However, Little Sam saw no river.

The clamor had already begun to reach his ears vaguely, and despair was almost gripping Little Sam’s heart.

Little Sam even thought about finding a cliff to end his life... At least, compared to the torture after being captured, or even becoming a sacrifice, that sounded better.

But he didn’t want to die; he still wanted to live.

But, was there any chance left? Little Sam cried out hopelessly in his heart, questioning, pleading. He truly didn’t want to end his life like this. Back when he became a slave, he didn’t want to die, let alone now.

Little Sam, burning his last flicker of hope, kept running forward.

But fate seemed to be against him. Although the night gave him some concealment, it also caused him to overlook obstacles on the ground. He tripped over a dead branch, and most critically, his ankle... it twisted.

Feeling the stiffness in the wind, Little Sam finally despaired.

"Huh, why is there a forest here? Is the path mark set wrong?"

Just as Little Sam was hopelessly looking at the starry sky, possibly for the last time, awaiting death’s judgment, he heard a voice at his ear.

No one was around. Where did the voice come from?

Little Sam lay on the ground, straining to lift his head towards the direction of the sound.

At some point, a slightly casual red-haired man was walking out from between the trees.

The red-haired man clearly saw him.

Little Sam clearly saw, under the moonlight, the man’s golden eyes suddenly light up, and he walked towards him.

"Quite a lively forest tonight," the red-haired man muttered, looking into the distance. He walked to Little Sam’s side, squatting down, glancing at his leg, "Hey, young friend. You look quite bad, your ankle is swollen."

"Tell you what, answer this uncle one question, and this uncle will help you heal?"

Without waiting for Little Sam to agree, the red-haired man directly asked, "This should be the Revelation Continent, right?"

Little Sam hadn’t yet gathered his thoughts and subconsciously nodded.

"Fortunately, there’s not much deviation." The red-haired man’s eyes brightened even more: "Do you know how far we are from the Central Empire? Or is this the Central Empire?"

...

Little Sam felt as though he had just experienced a dream.

He was clearly in a dire situation, even despairing over the cruelty of fate, yet he hadn’t expected such a dramatic reversal at the last moment.

No, calling it dramatic is too mild; it should be a magical transformation.

Sam thought this because he was now in an extremely magical scene—

Above him was a dazzling starry sky, around him were thin clouds, and beneath his feet was a Flying Boat navigating the skies.

When Sam was very young and still a member of the nobility, he had ridden in exquisite carriages and herded legendary giant eagles that could be ridden when grown, but he had never imagined that a small boat drifting in the river would one day fly up to the sky.

Moreover, this small boat called Gondola was as beautiful as a work of art from a fairy tale.

The creator of this fairytale illusion was the red-haired man he had met earlier. It was also because of him that Sam managed to escape from a desperate crisis.

However, this method of escape made Sam feel as though it was a dream.

"Young one, let me verify once more, you really know the direction to Saint Sem City in the Central Empire? Lying is not good; your nose will grow." The red-haired man looked at Sam with suspicion, mainly because Sam seemed so young, barely twelve or thirteen, a child of that age likely hadn’t left the local town, so how could he know where the main country is?

"I’m not lying, I really know because I... I used to live in Saint Sem City." Sam said, somewhat apprehensively touching his nose, thinking: Why would he say lying leads to a long nose? Could it be, like the spell in a fairy tale, he placed a curse on me?

"Oh?" The red-haired man looked deeply into Sam’s eyes, then nodded after a moment: "You’re telling the truth."

"Since you do truly know where Saint Sem City is, and are willing to lead me there, then the deal is made." The red-haired man said and then extended a finger towards Sam’s ankle, suspended it slightly in the air.

Sam immediately felt his swollen and painful ankle suddenly cool, and in no time, all the pain vanished.

He couldn’t help but twist his ankle, finding it was really restored to normal!

A flying boat, a simple gesture to heal an ankle... Without a doubt, he was definitely one of the legendary Transcendents. Thinking of this, Sam dared not lie again, for fear that his nose would grow!

"Healing your ankle is the reward for you answering my question. As for guiding me to Saint Sem City, you’ll receive the silver coin once we arrive." The red-haired man paused before continuing: "Since we are on the same boat now, aren’t you planning to introduce yourself?"

Not daring to lie, Sam quietly said: "My name is Ego Sam Lurendale, but I like being called Sam."

The red-haired man listened to Sam’s answer, and a subtle light flickered in his eyes momentarily.

Three-part names are not uncommon, but for a slave, it’s rare. The red-haired man easily noticed the slave mark on Sam’s back, confirming early on that he was indeed a slave, perhaps even an escaped one.

A slave having a three-part name suggests he wasn’t born into slavery but became one due to circumstances.

What intrigued him most was how the boy self-identified with his middle name. Typically, a middle name is from the maternal side or self-given, often omitted in formal situations. Therefore, Sam valuing his middle name so much was significant.

"Sam, is it, once lived in Saint Sem City. Could you have some connection with Saint Sem?"

"No connection." Sam lowered his head, not letting the other glimpse the sorrow in his eyes.

"It seems there really is a connection." The red-haired man, ignoring Sam’s answer, pondered with a hand on his chin: "So, is Saint Sem’s family your mother’s family?"

Sam: "..."

Red-haired man: "Okay, unwilling to answer, that’s fine. Since you’ve introduced yourself, let me introduce myself."

"My name is Anger Pat, you can call me Mr. Pat."

Half an hour ago, Angel was around the Barbarian Cave. Now, appearing on the distant Revelation Continent, he was naturally preparing to search for Frode.

However, Angel’s application of the Plane Corridor was clearly still in its infancy. Although he successfully opened the passage, his positioned Spatial Beacon ended up slightly off.

He still crossed the abyssal sea to reach the Revelation Continent, albeit veering over a thousand kilometers from the Central Empire, landing in the Silver Monarchy.

Being someone who never remembers routes, Angel momentarily had no idea where Saint Sem City was and fortunately came across the injured Sam, preventing him from having to inquire directions among the Wilderness of Dreams... which would have been embarrassing.

Angel felt a good impression towards Sam, who spared his dignity.

"By the way, does my taking you away from the Silver Monarchy to Saint Sem City cause you any trouble? If it does, once I reach the destination, I can have someone send you back."

Angel could see that when mentioning Saint Sem City, there was more sorrow than anticipation in Sam’s eyes, more rejection than yearning. Likely, Sam didn’t truly wish to go to Saint Sem City.

Thinking of how Sam once lived in Saint Sem City and was perhaps a noble fallen into slavery, there were probably many twists and turns in his story.

Though Angel didn’t care for the tales, he didn’t mind offering a bit of help, like someone returning him to the Silver Monarchy.

Upon hearing about being sent back to the Silver Monarchy, Sam raised his head and shook it vigorously: "No, I don’t want to go back."

"Then you won’t go back."

Sam was a bit surprised at how quickly the other agreed: "Aren’t you curious about why I don’t want to go back?"

"Not really, though there’s time before night fades. If you want to share, I wouldn’t mind being a listener." Angel casually remarked.

Sam hesitated for a moment, unsure of Mr. Pat’s intentions, yet worried about the curse of lying, finally deciding to explain what had happened earlier.

"Oh? So you killed the farm owner, and they’re hunting you. No wonder the deep forest is so lively at night." Angel showed a look of sudden understanding.

"The issue isn’t the liveliness; it’s that I killed someone..." Sam murmured softly.

"Hmm, from your perspective, it is indeed a big deal." Angel: "Why did you kill him?"

A flash of hatred appeared in Sam’s eyes: "I didn’t intend to kill him; he wanted to kill me first, intending to make me a sacrifice. I accidentally killed him."

"A sacrificial offering, sounds like a primitive ritual?" Angel murmured: "Whom did he plan to offer to?"

Sam: "I don’t know, I only know the sacrifice may not be just me, and the farm owner isn’t the only one involved, there may be those nobility."

Angel hearing this, did not make overt statements but pondered internally: "A collective sacrificial event... could it be a primitive tribe from Feran Continent? If so, then probably it’s someone from the Otherworld seeking to deepen ties with the Wizards’ Realm through sacrifice."

"This matter could be significant, maybe I should let Frode notify Neya of Hurricane Tower at the Royal in the Central Empire."

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