Chapter 117: The Handed-Over Notebook

Chapter 117: Chapter 117: The Handed-Over Notebook

Sitting next to him, Atalai caught the very minute expression that had just flashed across her son’s face. She reached her hand into her spatial storage, taking out a brocade box that had been prepared long ago.

She opened the lid of the box. A blue spatial bracelet, the body engraved with twin lotus patterns, appeared beneath the brocade layer.

Atalai waved her hand to collect the entire pile of gifts filling the living room into the space, then stood up, walked over to sit next to Jeremy, and personally put the bracelet on his wrist.

"Inside are the festival gifts and birthday gifts I’ve prepared for you over the past years. If you lack anything in the future, just tell me, I will find it for you."

In this situation, Jeremy naturally couldn’t refuse. He said his thanks one more time.

Compared to those tearful reunion scenes on TV dramas, he personally found this kind of procedural reunion translated directly into material goods much easier to digest.

Jeremy’s gaze swept over the bracelet, which clearly held no small value, but he didn’t pay it much mind. Currently, he had another matter in his head he needed to ask about.

He proactively spoke up: "I assume you have already grasped the situation regarding the original..."

Jeremy paused. He almost blurted out the words "original owner" out of habit. He corrected his form of address:

"...the situation regarding Sylas. I want to ask, besides divine power, is there any other way to help the soul recover faster?"

Atalai flatly denied it: "As of right now, no."

Since she had said so, Jeremy didn’t ask further.

"I’m going to check on Simi." Elwyn stood up and headed upstairs.

Atalai shared the same intention.

"Simi"... sounded like a private nickname the Duke had given Sylas.

Jeremy followed behind.

A moment later, in Sylas’s room.

Looking at their youngest son submerged in a slumber with no set date to wake up, both Atalai and Elwyn’s moods were very hard to name.

Throughout the journey back, they had used the crystal ball to maintain continuous contact with the Divine Temple’s people, grasping every detail from beginning to end.

They had never thought Sylas’s dragon bloodline would awaken so early. Even less did they foresee that the child’s first reaction after seeing through the lifeline would be to push himself aside and choose to personally sacrifice himself to pull back the older brother who had been missing for eleven years.

Jeremy stood to the side, capturing every minute shift on their faces in his eyes, faintly realizing that his previous speculation might have deviated quite a bit.

Did this couple truly not care for their children in the slightest?

If they truly didn’t care, why grit their teeth and rush back to the capital through the night.

The distance from the West to here, following the normal route, would consume half a month.

Yet it only took them a mere day. Enough to picture how much they had to burn to shorten it.

Because all the memories he inherited were recorded from Sylas’s personal perspective, he could only analyze them one-sidedly before.

Perhaps... he should test the waters a bit.

The corner of Jeremy’s eye glanced at the spatial ring lying on the bedside table.

Regardless of the ring or the items originally inside it, they all belonged to Sylas. That did not change.

But he needed to take out the items he had stored in there during the recent period.

Especially that notebook... Perhaps it was the key capable of flipping the entire truth onto the table.

The blood of children sharing the direct bloodline could temporarily lift the identification seal on a spatial ring. Jeremy stepped forward, bit his fingertip, squeezed a drop of blood onto the ring’s face to release the temporary contract, transferred all his belongings to the spatial bracelet, and then pulled out the notebook.

He handed the notebook straight into Atalai’s hand, who was standing closest to him.

"I think you should see this."

Atalai accepted it. The first thing that hit her eyes was the name [Sylas]. Upon flipping to the first page, she instantly understood what this was.

A form of daily log, almost like a diary.

After all, that was privacy. She hesitated slightly.

Jeremy noticed that and slightly jutted his chin, signaling her to continue reading.

These contents truly belonged to someone else’s private life.

But he had seamlessly inherited Sylas’s memories, coupled with the fact that the majority of this notebook was densely packed with experiences enough to make one’s blood boil.

Compared to leaving it to gather dust in a secret compartment behind the headboard, he would rather play the villain exposing someone else’s secrets, so that bunch of beasts would have to pay the price.

As long as Atalai and Elwyn still retained a bit of care for Sylas, then the plan to deal with Amber and the brainless fools following him would be much smoother. It would also save him the trouble of bothering Raphael.

Of course, if these two parents truly didn’t care about the pain and humiliation that child had swallowed down, then someone half-in, half-out of the picture like him would be out of options. He’d just have to fall back on the original plan, joining hands with Raphael to achieve his goal.

In short, whether out of gratitude and guilt towards Sylas, or purely because he was disgusted by Amber, within the next ten years, Jeremy was determined to see him and his gang fall straight to the bottom of the abyss, their souls shattered.

Jeremy’s attitude was too resolute. Atalai vaguely read something from it.

Page by page, turned over. Elwyn stood behind her, silently reading along.

By the time the final page was closed, not a single emotional fluctuation appeared on either of their faces.

But the temperature in the room had visibly plummeted. The rioting magic elements caused the Holy Pearls hanging around the room to tremble slightly, their light flickering. A thin layer of frost crawled across the window glass, then cracked into a spiderweb pattern.

"..."

Atalai’s mood at this moment was so terrible that no words could adequately express it.

She had never thought that in places she couldn’t keep her eyes on, her son had been trampled upon to that extent.

The year Sylas was born coincided exactly with the period when the Wasteland’s anomalies were most violent, and also when the Demon race was wreaking havoc most frantically in a century.

That year, Elwyn guarded the Demon race border, while she remained in the West shielding the civilians, clearing out the monsters flooding from the rifts.

No major incidents occurred throughout the pregnancy. But two months before the due date, she was ambushed by the leader of a heretical cult in the middle of a battle. Dark power pierced straight through three layers of barriers, plunging into her chest.

To keep the child in her womb, she drained the entire reservoir of magic power accumulated over twenty years, using her own soul as a shield.

The child was born safely.

The price was that the cultist, before taking his last breath, managed to plant a curse and inject dark poison into her body. Out of thirty days in a month, she was submerged in a coma for twenty-seven of them.

Elwyn at the border couldn’t leave for a single step. The youngest child had to be entrusted to the most reliable hidden guards to care for.

And also to the eldest son.

That year Jeremy had just turned nine. The age when other aristocratic young masters were still busy smashing crystal vases in the living room, that child was already mixing milk himself, testing the bathwater temperature himself, and sleeping right in his younger brother’s room.

Occasionally managing to suppress the dark power’s corrosion to wake up, she would often see the two of them sticking together in a sunny corner of the corridor.

The little one running and jumping around his brother’s legs, lively and cheerful as a rabbit.

The older one stood there, still holding a thick magic book in his hand, his face as serious as if shouldering the entire family, but whenever his younger brother tripped, he would rush over faster than any hidden guard in the mansion.

No matter how inherently cold and heartless her nature was, she still held affection for the two children she gave birth to herself.

But the year Sylas turned five, traces of the curse began to appear on Sylas’s body...