Night Journey

Chapter 23 Celebration
Cillian observed himself in the mirror.

Compared to before, Cillian's physique has become more robust, which is a benefit brought to Cillian by the trait "Resilient Body".

This universal ability is possessed by almost every extraordinary individual on every path of destiny, and as their rank increases, this trait is further enhanced, comprehensively boosting the extraordinary individual's physical attributes.

Cillian raised his left hand, a look of doubt on his face.

Ever since the Ouroboros Seal stopped satisfying the demons' sacrifices, during his night patrols lately, Cillian has been like a murderous maniac, frequently leaping off the high walls to happily huddle with the demons, trying to outnumber them.

If one isn't enough, then two; if two aren't enough, then fifty.

Unfortunately, even though Cillian killed hundreds of demons, the Ouroboros Seal remained unmoved, like someone who had grown tired of cake and was demanding a more delicious dessert.

"It seems you'll only be satisfied if you kill a Chaos cultist."

Cillian let out a long sigh.

Fortunately, the all-night killing spree also served as training, allowing Cillian to quickly become familiar with the power of the Torchbearer.

As I pushed open the door, a familiar fragrance wafted towards me.

Inside the living room, Ava was preparing breakfast for the Soflova brothers as usual, her figure busy in front of the kitchen utensils, the iron pot sizzling as it grilled meat patties.

"It smells so good, Ava! What did you make today?"

Tim rubbed his sleepy eyes and stood at the top of the stairs, looking expectant.

Without turning her head, Ava said, "Toast, meat patties, and mushroom soup."

"not bad."

Although he said that, Tim was thinking to himself, "Why is it always the same few things?"

Ava rarely changes her recipes. It's not that Ava can't cook anything other than these few dishes, but rather that resources are very limited in White Cliff Town. Ava wants to make some delicious food, but she always lacks some essential ingredients.

When Mike saw that Cillian had finished showering and came out, he asked.

"How about a night patrol?"

“It’s very quiet, and there are far fewer demons,” Cillian said in a startling way. “Sometimes, I have to venture deep into the wilderness to find just a dozen or so.”

“The demons are like a group of ladies who are not interested in me and are unwilling to keep their appointments. It takes a lot of effort for me to get them to dance.”

Everyone stared blankly at Cillian, who had misunderstood and explained.

“You can think of the Source Energy Tide as a periodic release of energy, which throws all the demons and chaotic power that have been stored in the Spirit Realm into reality in one go.”

"Now that the energy tide has ended and the accumulated power inside has been released, things will naturally be much more peaceful. But before long, the spirit realm will be filled with chaotic power and demons again, waiting for the moment when they will all come out."

Ava tapped the table. "No, we didn't care about that at all."

"Oh, so what do you care about?"

Cillian picked up the plate, which now contained two extra meat patties. "Is this my snack?"

Ava stared intently at Cillian, who whispered something.

"right?"

“Cillian!”

Ava's voice rose a few decibels as she emphasized, "Demons are so dangerous! We should be avoiding them, and you actually went and chased after them to kill them!"

Even if you become the torchbearer, don't take unnecessary risks!

"what……"

Cillian didn't know how to explain it for a moment. He couldn't very well say that the more demons he killed, the stronger he became, because that would sound like he was obsessed with killing demons.

"I'll pay attention."

Cillian solemnly assured him.

"That's pretty much it."

Ava glared at Cillian, then turned back to continue frying the meat patties.

Tim walked down the stairs, gave Cillian a smirk, and then sat down at the dining table to enjoy the moment.

Just like a classic plot in novels, the hero defeats the dragon and returns home, while the princess waits patiently in the castle.

The spirited young men, having just escaped a night of fierce fighting, returned to their warm homes, where their crushes were thoughtfully preparing breakfast for them.

Ava tiptoed to remove the copper-handled ladle from the cast iron hook, her hair glistening with a honey-like luster in the morning light as she moved.

She always started preparing breakfast well in advance. Jars of blueberry jam were already set on the long pine table, and meat patties were oozing glistening oil in the sizzling frying pan.

The young girl's beautiful figure, exuding youthful hormones, blended with the aroma of food, creating an atmosphere of exceptional peace and tranquility.

This is a wonderful morning, as perfect as a scene deliberately created in a novel.

"so good……"

Tim admired the beautiful scenery, but then a wave of bittersweet emotion washed over him. He glanced at Cillian, who was idling by, and sighed deeply.

"What a pity, what a pity."

Tim shook his head helplessly as he spoke in a language no one could understand.

After Tim and Mick left, Cillian lingered in the living room for a while longer, just as they had planned. Ava looked around and then mysteriously brought over a plate.

"Try this, it's a dessert I just learned to make, syrup pancakes."

Ava said slyly, "Don't tell them."

Ciri understood perfectly, picked up her knife and fork, and cut off a small piece.

"It tastes very sweet, very good."

Cillian took a bite and praised Ava's cooking skills.

Ava smiled and proudly puffed out her chest.

"It would be too wasteful to eat it all at once, let's save some for a late-night snack."

Cillian only ate a quarter of it, calling it a late-night snack; clearly, he intended for others to try the delicious dish as well.

Ava didn't care; it was enough that Cillian had tasted the first bite.

After breakfast, Cillian took a nap.

He was in charge of organizing supplies and repairing motorcycles in preparation for their trip to Hull City. Tim and Mick patrolled the high walls to oversee the progress of the repairs, while Ava and the other townspeople participated in the daily work.

As afternoon approached, Cillian studied the map and planned his route.

The terrain in the wilderness is complex and unpredictable. Perhaps yesterday there were no ruins blocking the way, but as soon as it got light, a large cluster of buildings filled the land.

In addition, there are many ravines and cliffs in the wilderness.

Cillian had to carefully study the route ahead, because if anything went wrong, his journey through the wilderness would take several more days.

A few days may sound short, but due to the limited carrying capacity of his vehicle, Ciri could not carry much supplies. He had to be careful with his resources and plan every kilometer.

After sketching and writing for a while, Ciri put away the map and paper. Around noon, the maintenance work on the high walls was completed, and in the evening, the townspeople would gather in the mayor's hall to begin this long-awaited celebration.

It was called a celebration, but it was really just a group of people getting together and eating and drinking to their hearts' content.

For safety reasons, the Soflow brothers would not stay long. After a quick bite, they would return to the high walls to begin their night patrol.

Cillian had no objection to this; he had grown accustomed to this kind of life over the years.

……

As the setting sun faded, the lighthouse had already been lit ahead of schedule, its soft light evenly spreading across Baiya Town, creating a peaceful haven.

The celebration was about to begin, and the women pulled out long silk dresses from the bottom of their trunks, covered with dried lavender. These gorgeous dresses, which had witnessed engagement banquets and baptisms, now gleamed faintly under the kerosene lamps.

Silver hairpins trembled among the gray hair buns, and diamond earrings swayed on the yellowed earlobes. They used the last half of beeswax to moisten their cracked lips and crushed dried rose petals into rouge to apply to their sunken cheeks.

The men wore faded velvet coats with rusty medals pinned to their collars.

The townspeople cared deeply about the celebration; in this age of despair and darkness, even the slightest bit of joy was incredibly precious.

Before long, the square was packed with townspeople, and the open-air tables were laden with all kinds of food. The townspeople chatted and laughed with each other.

The children ran around carrying lanterns made from tin cans and candles, casting menacing shadows among the broken walls, as if they had all forgotten that the terrible gray fog was only a wall away from them.

Ciri stood in front of the weathered bronze mirror beside the square, tidying his sideburns.

The reflection of the person in the mirror was like a carefully framed oil painting. The charcoal gray three-piece suit fit his upright shoulder line perfectly, and below the collar was a snow-white shirt that had been starched until it was stiff. Even the cufflinks were made of enamel blue, the same color as the watch chain.

Of the Soflowa brothers, Tim was the tallest, and Mick was the most handsome and refined. Cillian, sandwiched between the two, was always the least noticeable of them.

After such a meticulous makeover tonight, Cillian was almost unrecognizable, a stark contrast to his usual disheveled appearance.

"See, I still have good taste, don't I?"

Ava stood behind Cillian, both of them looking at their reflections in the bronze mirror, admiring their own creation, and pinched Cillian's cheek.

With Ava's careful styling, Cillian actually did have a rather outstanding air about him, as if he were the heir of a noble family.

But the longsword at Cillian's waist shattered this aura, filling him with a terrifying sharpness.

"I don't understand, do we need to carry weapons at a time like this?"

Ava poked her head out and asked curiously.

She tried to persuade Cillian to put down his longsword, which always seemed out of place amidst the revelry.

“No, I can’t stay at the celebration for long. I have to go on night patrol after a short while.” Cillian shook his head.

“Then you can put the sword down and bring it back when you go on patrol later,” Ava suggested. “You want to dance with the sword, but I don’t want to… bump my foot.”

Cillian placed his hand on the hilt of his sword, and just as he hesitated, Ava moved closer to him, her large, watery eyes looking up at him with pleading and expectation.

Cillian felt his heart skip a beat.

Ava tied her long hair up with a fishbone-shaped hairpin, and her light blue silk dress trailed behind her like a goldfish swimming ashore, swaying her skirt as if it had been marinated in moonlight.

She rarely wore this dress out; it was said to have been left to her by her mother. In this impoverished town of Baiya, anything glamorous rarely lasted long.

Ava asked cautiously, "Is it okay?"

"Just this once."

Ciri took a deep breath, removed the longsword from his waist, and gently leaned it against the long table.

"Great."

Ava happily took Cillian's arm and led him toward the center of the square.

The celebration doesn't last long. Usually, when both cold moons have fully risen, the townspeople reluctantly return to their homes, while the Soflovai brothers go up to the high walls.

The mess left by the revelry will be cleaned up when the sun rises again, and people will reminisce about yesterday's joy as they clean up.

And so, the celebration began.

When the first accordion played an off-key waltz, the seventy-year-old widow suddenly lifted her patched skirt and placed her age-spotted hand in the butcher's calloused palm.

They spun around, knocking over the barrels of potatoes and crushing the dried sage, until someone noticed that the widow's dentures had flown into the fountain during the violent shaking.

"Jump! Jump!"

It's unclear who shouted first, but the roar was like sparks flying into a haystack.

Ava took Cillian's hand and danced lightly, like a swift flying close to the ground. In comparison, Cillian's movements were much clumsy. It was only through his outstanding physical qualities and skills that Cillian managed not to step on Ava's skirt.

"Can't you dance?"

Do you think I should be capable of such a thing?

Cillian couldn't dance, so Nunn taught him to wield a sword, to find his way around, and all the skills to survive in the wilderness, but there were no dances to attend in the wilderness.

"My God, Cillian, you know so many things, but you don't know the simplest dance steps."

“It’s okay,” Ava comforted her. “I’ll teach you, slowly, yes, like this.”

Guided by Ava, Cillian swayed casually with her through the crowd, his gaze sometimes falling on Ava's face and sometimes elsewhere.

Ava noticed Cillian's distraction and asked irritably, "What are you looking at?"

“I’m looking at Tim,” Cillian said with a smile. “He’s looking rather sullen.”

Just as Cillian said, Tim sat in his chair eating a chicken leg with a negative expression. Anyone could see that he was unhappy. Apart from Mick, no one was sitting next to him.

"Why don't you go somewhere else, like the mayor's office?"

Mick teased, "You look really pathetic. You have to watch the person you like dancing with someone else, and that person happens to be your brother. Not only can you not beat him, but you can't even indulge in drinking."

"No."

Tim strongly rejected the idea, sighed deeply, and then a helpless smile appeared on his face.

"If you hide in the mayor's office, you won't be able to see this beautiful scenery."

"What beautiful scenery?"

Mick moved his chair a little closer, trying to find the beautiful view Tim had described.

“Ava, look how beautifully she’s dressed, and how well she dances.”

Tim admired it, but soon his rapture turned into a vicious look. "But Cillian's dancing was terrible; he ruined this beautiful view."

Mick silently moved his chair a little further away from Tim, and listened as Tim spoke again.

"There's nothing we can do if Cillian dances terribly."

Tim picked up a glass of juice and drank it down in one gulp, treating it like fine wine.

"Only Cillian can make Ava dance."

(End of this chapter)