Chapter 2151: Chapter 2152: Black Clouds Hang Low

On the skin scroll documenting soul arts, Frode once read a record, clearly noting that aside from following conventional steps, there’s another method to learn soul arts:

Through killing and absorbing the special energy of the undead, to assist in practicing soul arts.

This method actually has many limitations and might lead to self-degradation due to the chaotic energy within the undead.

Moreover, the soul arts acquired from absorbing undead must be consistent with the abilities that the undead themselves possessed.

For example, if an undead only knows the ’possession’ ability, then through this special method, the first soul art learned can only be possession.

Most importantly, the effectiveness of the absorbed soul arts may be uncertain, making self-cultivation preferable for more choices and to avoid degeneration.

Previously, Frode never considered using this method.

However, now he has heard about the Spider Undead Lady Cilla.

The Spider Undead is a special undead. The so-called special undead represents having qualities distinct from regular undead, perhaps with a stronger impact on the material realm or possessing abilities different from ordinary undead.

Killing special undead to absorb their soul arts might likely result in gaining their unique abilities, and these would potentially be much stronger than ordinary soul arts!

Of course, the chaotic energy brought by special undead would be more tumultuous, increasing the chances of degeneration.

But oddly enough, Frode is least afraid of degeneration.

With the Samsara Overture, even if he degenerates, it can pull him back. However, it’s better not to degenerate; once truly fallen, it would waste the White Light Bullet, and the absorbed abilities would not return.

Considering the uniqueness of the Spider Undead, Frode’s mind began to lean.

Angel naturally noticed Frode’s thoughts; he, too, is quite inclined to let Frode use the special undead to break through in soul arts, though the final decision rests with Frode himself.

Angel: "Since you have this intention, why not wait a bit longer to see what special ability this Spider Undead possesses."

Frode nodded: "Alright."

In the subsequent period, Angel and Frode temporarily resided in the Ranger’s Cabin on the high ground behind the lake, where they could see the direction of Star Lake Castle.

To avoid making their presence known to the special undead with strong spiritual senses, Angel and Frode refrained from using any energy, instead silently meditating and waiting.

Time flew by, and two days passed.

Frode pushed open the cabin door; the weather was exceptionally clear. Under the sunlight, one could smell the moisture and wood fragrance in the air.

Standing at the doorstep, Frode gazed into the distance at Star Lake Castle.

Just as majestic and calm as usual, the shadows of the trees added a touch of seclusion to it.

Looking at the castle, a doubt rose again in Frode’s heart: Will the Spider Undead really come? The things seen and heard in the talent test stirred by a higher-dimensional spiritual world—can such a stirring truly reflect reality?

"Chirp chirp—"

As Frode looked into the distance, a shadow suddenly flashed across the forest, startling a flock of birds. The shadow was extremely fast, heading straight for the cabin.

When it was about to hit the door, Frode shifted slightly, allowing the shadow to dart inside.

With the shadow indoors, waves of chirping filled the air.

Frode turned around to see the shadow had landed in front of Angel and stopped in his palm, revealing itself—a small seabird with grey feathers.

It was Toby, who had slept for days, finally getting some fresh air.

Toby chirped excitedly, seemingly trying to convey something. Despite Frode’s frequent interactions with Toby, his bird language skills made no progress, allowing him only to discern Toby’s excitement.

Connecting Toby’s outing tasked with scouting undead activity from above, Frode’s eyes lit up: Could it be that Toby has spotted traces of the Spider Undead?

Frode glanced at Angel, for only Angel, a Master of Bird Language, could understand Toby’s intentions.

"It didn’t see the Spider Undead; it’s excited simply because..." Angel paused, lowering his voice, "Gray isn’t here."

Toby initially thought it would be carefree in the Wilderness of Dreams, and at first, it was, roaming freely with Tullas. But one day, Greya discovered the existence of the Wilderness of Dreams and entered it.

Since then, Toby was trapped in the nightmare of training in both reality and the Wilderness of Dreams.

Finally, when Angel left the Barbarian Cave, Toby returned to reality. Without Greya’s strict training, Toby was naturally thrilled, even happily flying through the barren woods.

Frode, as the de facto manager of Originheart City, knew well how harsh Greya was on Toby... One could say, the stone columns in the southern part of the city’s colosseum were practically reserved by Greya.

Thus, Frode understood Toby’s mindset: "Alas, it’s not easy for it either."

Hearing Frode’s sympathetic remarks, Toby flew to his side, chirping a few notes of shared sentiment.

Angel shook his head, laughed, and said, "Although Toby didn’t see the Spider Undead, nor did it sense any undead disturbances nearby, it told me there’s been a slight change in the aura of this forest."

"Change?" Frode was puzzled.

Toby chirped away, yet Frode couldn’t understand any of it, having to rely on Angel once again.

"Some life forms are behaving unusually; for instance, natural enemies meeting but no longer fighting, each remaining in their nests; mice and ants digging deeper burrows, vanishing from sight, creating a noticeable isolation in the mid to lower ecological chain."

Frode: "What does this indicate?"

Angel: "I don’t know yet, but it vaguely suggests that a more aggressive predatory creature might be arriving."

A predator? Frode’s eyes flashed intensely; many animals and insects, despite lacking spirit intelligence, can sense information in the spiritual world with more depth and purity.

Their reactions largely indicate feedback to the external environment.

Based on Angel’s speculation, if a more aggressive predator is coming... could it be that Lady Cilla is about to arrive?

Angel could tell what Frode was contemplating. While stroking Toby’s warm feathers, he said, "Let’s wait a bit longer. If, as Toby says, there’s a distinct change in the forest’s atmosphere, the change’s arrival time isn’t far off."

"The answer should reveal itself no later than tomorrow."

...

In the hidden basement of Star Lake Castle, little Sam was sorting through his mother’s collection of prestigious artworks.

While clearing the dust off the oilcloth covering the painting "The Wanderer in the Wheat Field," he narrated the inside story to Adar on the other side.

Adar listened, thoroughly engrossed.

Little Sam enjoyed Adar’s pure kindness, so he was delighted to share these little stories with him.

Time passed second by second, and Adar also started helping little Sam clean the dust and arrange the artifacts.

When the grandfather clock in the basement began to chime, little Sam finally put down his work.

"It’s six o’clock already. I’ll go out to make dinner, and continue later," little Sam said.

Adar nodded, understanding that little Sam was human and still needed food to sustain himself.

Adar followed little Sam step by step, leaving the basement and entering the corridor on the first floor.

"Are you coming with me to the kitchen, or do you want to play on your own for a bit?" little Sam asked.

Adar naturally preferred to follow little Sam, but just as he was about to answer, a strange wave silently transmitted into his ears.

"Brother Sam, I... my spiritual body has been a little unstable the past few days, I might need to go back to my room to rest and recover for a while."

Little Sam had recently read a lot of books related to the soul, so he naturally understood how terrifying spiritual body instability was for the undead, and even possibly leading to degradation. So, he asked nervously, "Why is the spiritual body unstable, is there a way to fix it?"

Adar lowered his head, avoiding little Sam’s worried gaze: "The death aura at Star Lake Castle is heavy, and I absorbed too much in a short period, leading to signs of spiritual body instability."

Little Sam said, "Why don’t we go find Mr. Pat, he... he should be able to help stabilize your spiritual body, right?"

Adar shook his head: "No need, my spiritual body isn’t at the point where an adult needs to intervene, I just need to sleep for a while and rest, and I will return to normal."

As he spoke, Adar headed upstairs.

Little Sam quickly followed: "Really, just resting isn’t a problem?"

Adar nodded and recited word for word what he had heard: "Yes. Mr. Pat has set up a special field in the room shared by Shanni and me, when we rest, our soul force will slowly recover."

Although little Sam knew something about wizards’ circumstances, he completely didn’t understand wizards’ methods. Hearing Adar mention a special field in the room, he believed it. Because he had seen Shanni’s room before, and when the door was closed, strange patterns appeared on the door, it was said that no one but Mr. Pat and Shanni could open it, and inside it formed an isolated small world like an Inscription Space.

Mr. Pat had also set up Adar’s room, possibly the so-called special field he mentioned.

Adar stood in front of the bedroom door: "I need to rest first, maybe I’ll wake in a day or two, during this time... it’s best not to disturb me."

Little Sam nodded, as it concerned Adar’s soul, he didn’t dare to act rashly.

Adar said: "Then I’m going in."

After entering, Adar hesitated for a moment and wanted to say something: "Brother Sam..."

Before he could speak, the door closed on its own.

As the door shut, patterns similar to those of Shanni’s room appeared on the door, immediately creating a separation between inside and outside. Neither sound nor energy could connect anymore.

Standing in the center of the room, Adar lowered his head in regret.

"Don’t worry, the master reminded little Sam before leaving, even if you didn’t say the warning out loud, he’s already had doubts in his heart for these few days," Frode’s voice echoed in the room.

Adar: "Will Brother Sam be safe?"

"Yes, just take a nap, and you’ll see him again," with that, Frode’s voice gradually faded from the room.

Adar sighed, glanced out the window, and noticed that it suddenly grew windy.

The nearby trees swayed in the wind, appearing like ghostly figures with gnarled claws through the curtains.

"I hope everything will be fine," Adar murmured to himself, climbed onto the exquisite bed, put on the Log-in Device, and drifted into slumber.

Meanwhile, outside the door, little Sam paused a moment, then headed towards the kitchen.

As he passed the terrace, little Sam heard the sound of the howling wind.

Sam opened the door and stepped onto the third-floor terrace, leaning against the railing as he looked into the distance.

At this time, it was twilight, and according to the usual celestial phenomena, there should be a hint of dusk’s red hue. But now, standing on the terrace looking out, there was no sign of twilight, only rolling dark clouds.

The dark clouds were already low, and with Star Lake Castle located on the mountainside, the dark clouds seemed almost within reach.

The swirling clouds reflected in little Sam’s pupils, nearly suffocating him like a frog pressed down by those ominous clouds.

Complemented by the chilling mountain wind blowing from high above, little Sam’s heart started to beat restlessly.

"Always feels like something bad is about to happen." In little Sam’s consciousness, such a message suddenly flashed by. It seemed both inexplicable and like a warning of danger targeting little Sam.

Little Sam’s throat moved, and an memory fragment emerged in the Memory Casket.

——Then we will leave now, take care.

It was what Mr. Pat had said when leaving, and little Sam always felt there was a deeper meaning behind his words, constantly emerging in his mind the past few days.

Thinking back on it now.

Is there really some danger? Otherwise, why would Mr. Pat specifically advise him to stay safe?

"Must be just scaring myself, the undead around here were all eliminated by Mr. Pat, nothing will happen," little Sam muttered to himself, "even if there’s danger, it’s just thieves or wild animals, the trap at the door should be enough."

Little Sam turned away, no longer wanting to feel the overwhelming pressure outside.

As he passed the terrace and entered the corridor at that moment,

the Memory Casket opened again, showcasing a bizarre memory fragment: he was in Mr. Pat’s room, undergoing a talent test.

These fragments were filled with intense colors, slowly diffusing until only one image remained.

The woman’s face stuck to the window, and in the pitch-black world outside, the spider legs dancing.

"Lady Cilla..." Little Sam’s heart skipped a beat: "No way, did she really come here?"

If Lady Cilla truly came and he was alone... what should he do?

Little Sam rubbed his cold hands, unwilling to ponder the outcome too deeply. He dismissed it as mere fantasy, quickly making his way through the dim corridor.

But before he’d taken a few steps, a strange laughter suddenly came from behind.

Little Sam staggered as he turned around, seeing nothing behind him. There was only a window revealing the outside, with swaying tree shadows, and the wind howling ominously.

Little Sam murmured, "It must just be the wind, don’t overthink, don’t overthink..."

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