However, at this moment, the mottled and complicated memory fragments froze on a scene.
It was a pitch-black cave. His emaciated body lay on the ground, his lifeless eyes closed. His life was frozen. His corpse slowly swelled, deteriorated, and decayed until it was nothing but a skeleton.
It was a ghastly white skeleton.
"I'm Torras, but I think I'm already … dead?" When Torras realized this, his eyes snapped open.
When he opened his eyes, even more information flooded into his mind.
The unwillingness, hatred, and the desire to leave after his death drove him insane. Then he would wander on that dead island, year after year. During this time, many people entered the island and were killed by him.
Every time he killed a living person, he would return to his burial ground and hibernate, waiting for the next one to enter. It was as if he had become the scavenger of this small island, getting rid of all the existence that he deemed as an eyesore.
He didn't know how many years later, but he met another living person. That person was so powerful that he seemed to have been killed by him.
"Huh? Wait. If I've been killed, why am I still here? "Torras pondered this question. He didn't even notice the changes in his surroundings.
"But I was killed by that strange gun." Even now, Torras couldn't tell if he was an undead or a soul.
While Torras was puzzled, a voice suddenly entered his ears.
"You're awake?"
It was a clear voice. The ending note was long and elegant. It was very pleasing to the ear.
Huh? Pleasing to the ear?
Torras was stunned. What a beautiful word. Why would he use such a word to describe this voice?
From the moment he was trapped in that pitch-black and deathly silent despairing place, all the emotions he could sense were negative. Darkness, fear, helplessness, madness, and even killing and death. These melodies had been lingering in his memory fragments.
They caused him to sink into darkness and depravity.
He never thought that he would one day be so happy because of this. It was a very small joy. Normal people wouldn't notice it, but Torras, who hadn't felt any positive emotions in a thousand years, was sensitive enough to notice the changes in his heart.
How long had it been since he had felt such a wonderful feeling?
At this moment, Torras felt as though he had sensed light.
I miss it so much. It was as if he had reunited with a friend he hadn't seen in a long time. Torras couldn't help but burst into laughter.
"What are you so happy about?" He used his spirit feelers to sense Torras' movements, so he knew that Torras' smile was a natural sign of happiness.
Was he happy because he was a new student?
"Your voice is very pleasant. It makes me feel very happy." Torras narrowed his eyes with a smile. He didn't care where the voice came from or who it was. What he cared about was that his withered consciousness, which hadn't been bathed in rain for a long time, was slowly being reborn.
"Thank you for the compliment." Angor was still looking at Torras.
Torras looked even more babyish when he smiled.
If Torras had long hair under his helmet and changed into a woman's outfit, Angor believed that he would be able to win the hearts of many young men who were interested in him.
"I can't sense your happiness, but once it's over, do you mind sharing your story with me?"
Torras's smile grew even wider as he mumbled, "Your voice fits my taste perfectly. So, I'll accept your request. "
With Torras' permission, Angor didn't force him to talk right away. Instead, he waited politely.
"You're Torras?" Angor asked when Torras' smile slowly faded.
"I am."
"Haven't you ever wondered who I am since you woke up?"
"I know who you are. You're the wizard who killed me."
"Killed you? Is that what you think? Do you think you're dead? " Angor asked again. He wanted to see if Torras' memory and thinking ability were different.
"I don't know. But I think you killed me. You killed the version of me that didn't look like me."
"The version of you that didn't look like you?" Angor chuckled. "You mean the version of you that was filled with violence? But I remember you're called 'Ruthless King'. "
"That's right. You killed the version of me that I hated, the version that I couldn't control. Speaking of which, I should thank you for removing him from my mind. As for 'Ruthless King', it's just an excuse made up by an evil noble that I stole from him. I don't know why it's still being used.
"But I like 'Ruthless King' very much. It fits my style of naming."
From Torras' conversation, Angor was able to confirm one thing. Torras had regained his memories. Not only did he remember what happened in his previous life, but he also remembered what happened when he was an undead.
It seemed Prelude to Rebirth was working just as Sunders predicted. Six white bullets could only be used on one undead creature, and the final effect of each bullet was to turn the undead creature back into a soul.
Angor quickly took out his notebook and recorded the results of the experiment.
While writing, he didn't forget to tell Torras something else. "When a mortal dies, there's a chance that their soul will be born. If the soul isn't affected by an external force, it's possible for them to fall and become an undead creature because their bodies are filled with negative energy. "
"So I'm an undead, and now I'm a soul again?" Torras looked at Angor in bewilderment.
"That's right. Those bullets are the only ones in the wizarding world who can turn you back into a soul. You're lucky to be able to return to the real world. "
Torras came to a realization after hearing this. No wonder he felt happy before. It was because he was no longer an undead!
"You're a soul now, but if you continue to be exposed to negative energy for a long time, you'll still fall. So, I suggest you give up on your obsession. If you become an undead creature again, my bullets will be wasted. Of course, this is just a suggestion. You can do whatever you want. "
No matter how bad Torras became, he could still add new data to his experiment. He didn't mind if Torras would fall again. But before that, he had to at least tell Torras about the island.
"I'm fine now. I don't want to go back to being a demon again …" Torras said in fear. After being suppressed for a thousand years, he knew how precious it was to have peace.
"By the way, Mister Wizard, are we still on that dead island?" Torras suddenly asked.
Torras looked a little worried when he said that. He shook his head. "No, I brought you out."
When Torras heard that he left the cage, his expression froze for a second. Something in his mind snapped, and he felt as if a heavy stone had been lifted from his chest.
I'm really gone? I'm really gone!
Whether it was his obsession as an undead creature or his wish as a soul, all he wanted was to leave the cage that held him back! Torras didn't show it on his face, but his mind was filled with excitement.
After a long while, Torras finally calmed down.
Since he had left the cage, where would he go next? Torras knew that he had to wait for the wizard to decide.
He scanned his surroundings, trying to figure out where he was before talking to the wizard outside.
It was a small room with no walls. Apart from a colorful window that looked like a church, Torras couldn't see anything else.
Torras walked to the window and tried to look outside. But when he saw what was outside, he quickly took several steps back.
He couldn't see anything except for the raging flames outside.
"Am I in the Abyss of Fire?" Torras exclaimed.
Angor looked at the miniature church in his hand and the burning furnace beside him. His lips twitched.
With a wave of his hand, he created an illusion in Torras' room just like what he did in Freud's room. There was a bed, a chair, and a book. He even placed The Sound of Tides on a conspicuous desk.
Torras was surprised by the sudden change in the room around him. He walked around the room and finally chose to sit cross-legged on the bed. "It's been a long time since I've slept on such a soft bed. This suits my personal taste very well. But I don't like it facing the mirror. "
Angor didn't know what to say.
Sounds have aesthetics, names have aesthetics, and even furniture has aesthetics? Angor couldn't help but feel that Torras was getting more and more out of hand. As expected, novels shouldn't be trusted at all. The mighty image in "The Sound of the Devil's Night Tide" should just disappear with the wind.
"This room is yours from now on. Decorate it however you like," Angor said.
Torras nodded. "Mister Wizard, can you tell me why you spent so many precious bullets to turn me back into a soul and take me away from that dead island?"
"There are two reasons. First, I hope you can answer some of my questions. Second, you're now my experiment subject, so I have to take you with me." He carefully observed Torras' expression and didn't find anything strange, which surprised him a little.
"Aren't you afraid?" Angor raised an eyebrow.
"Mister Wizard, you went through so much trouble to turn me back into a soul. I don't think you're going to spend so much effort to get me back, right? Besides, I'm already dead. It doesn't matter if I'm afraid or not. "Torras shrugged.
"So you've accepted your fate."
"I have no choice. I can't beat you, Mister Wizard," Torras said helplessly.
"Not necessarily. You still remember when you were an undead, right? You once killed an apprentice from the White Clam Shipping Company. "
Torras tried to recall, but he couldn't remember anything. His memories as an undead were all messed up. He killed too many people. Whenever a ship came from the outside world, he would kill it. He didn't really care who was who.
"Really? I don't remember. But even if I did, I found out that I could teleport when I was an undead. Maybe I killed a weak wizard apprentice at that time … Now that I've become a soul, I can't teleport, so how can I fight against a wizard? "
"You can't teleport anymore?" Angor was puzzled. Could it be that spatial transference isn't your innate divine ability? "
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