The Wizard World (Part 2)

Chapter 397: Teleportation (2)

Translator: Leo Editor: Frappe

　

Within 10 seconds, it grew to become a palm-sized, green plant wherein a green bud the size of a fist developed on top of it.

Crack!

It broke open then from it flowed transparent, slimy fluid that fell on the carpet.

Intense stench immediately diffused in the air.

This caused Angele to jump up from the bed and look at the plant frowningly. Once the golden bird saw Angele already awoken, it flew away from the windowsill after fluttering its wings.

Cough! Cough!

The broken-open green bud started coughing as if it was a person. The plant soon leaned down and acted seemingly as if it choked on the slimy fluid.

"I apologize for interrupting your nice dream," an old woman's voice came from the bud, "Did you notice recovering faster than usual while you're here in the heart of the tree?"

Angele avoided the slimy fluid and stood in front of the bud, his brow still furrowed.

"Who are you?" he questioned in a whisper, "Is this plant a tool for communication?"

"I'm your contact. I think all of you right now have the same question. Sadly, this is a one-way message. I won't be able to receive your feedback. Your lunch shall soon be delivered, so help yourselves. After lunch, you shall know how depressing this place is and… Damn it, Newbass! The only thing you know is eat! Come back! Come back…"

Chi! Chi!

The voice soon became noise, and the message stopped there.

Angele looked at the slimy fluid on the carpet—speechless—and the room smelled like it had been soused with disinfectant potion.

He massaged his temples several times.

"Fine, lunch… The strange message explained nothing… but whatever." He waved his hand, and the slimy fluid floated up high, becoming a transparent ball and flying out of the window.

Angele returned to his bed for the opportunity to take some more rest. He noticed that the room was indeed aiding in his recovery—mentally and physically. The old man said that this place was called 'the heart of the tree'. Perhaps that ought to be the reason for his fast recovery.

Angele could hear faint noises coming from outside as he continued to lie down. It sounded like many children doing menial jobs.

"Move! Let's go! Move!" they were shouting, and their voices were getting nearer.

Angele sat up and looked outside.

"What's going on?" He looked out the window with a flabbergasted face.

Beside the green plant, at the edge of the brown-wood windowsill.

A group of crème-filled, black biscuits were lined up and climbing up the window with their short legs.

In the hands of this biscuits grasped black spears that were as though they were made with flour.

"For justice!" the biscuit-leader raised up its spear and shouted with a cute, child-like voice.

"For justice!"

"Gourmandism shall fall!"

The other biscuits, too began shouting, though they were only yellow random things.

The biscuit-leader started giving out orders, "Now! Biscuits of the Helios Family, line up! Biscuits of the Julie Family, line up! Rest of you, follow me!"