Death… And Me

Chapter 1882: Golden Feather

*Fuuuu...* Rean took a deep breath after that, feeling like he was on the edge of the Underworld for a second there.

Ligra looked back at Fran with an angry expression. "Why did you stop me?"

"I told you," Fran answered. "Maybeeeeee, he was the one responsible for Jakar's escape. There's no proof of that."

Rean was thankful that most spirits were peaceful by nature. If it was on the humanoid or demon beasts' side, he would have probably been dead by now. "Ahem... Jakar... and I only met around four months ago. I couldn't possibly have helped him with any escapade."

"Hmph!" Ligra snorted in response. "We'll see about that."

She then completely ignored Rean and looked at Jakar. "Brat, where were you with that head of yours?! How could you suddenly leave our race?! Also, why are you still pretending to be such a disgusting low-life like a human? Revert back to your real form immediately!"

Jakar scratched the back of his head as his body began to transform. Immediately, the things that made Jakar a human in Rean's eyes began to disappear as he took the same form as the other Winged Provis. Sure enough, Jakar wasn't a human but another Winged Provis. "You guys sure can do some interesting things,' he couldn't help but mention.

Jakar nodded, replying, "Our transformation abilities are very convincing, you know? Well, not everyone in our Winged Provis race can transform as perfectly as I. That's a very rare ability. If not for that, I would have been found a long time ago."

"Enough!" Uncle Fran intervened. "I don't care about anything you two have to say to each other. Jakar, you're heading straight back to the Winged Provis Sanctuary to continue your cultivation and will continue there for the next ten years. You better not come out before reaching the Void Tempering Realm!"

"I will not!" However, Jakar immediately refused. "I said it already. I'm not going to become the future leader of the Winged Provis or anything like that. I want to live my own life and not the one you portrayed for me. I was very happy with the life I had in the Drugo Organization, so just ignore me and let me go. Look, you even involved my friend Tian here."

Rean's mouth could not help but twitch when he heard that. 'Wasn't it you who involved me? You could have simply said I had nothing to do with you, idiot!' Then again, Rean couldn't understand. Why would Jakar try to pretend that they were great friends? It wasn't like Rean could do anything for him in this situation.

*Pah!*

*Ouch!*

Fran once again hit Jakar's head, this time with even more strength. "Are you still saying that? Do you want to see our Winged Provis race disappear in the future? You're the race's Golden Feather holder, idiot!"

'Golden Feather?' Rean couldn't help but take a better look at Jakar. Sure enough, at the very center of Jakar's crown of feathers, there was one that was transparent yet had a golden sheen to it. Then again, the golden color was very faint.

Jakar still shook his head, saying, "That has nothing to do with me. I didn't ask for that, you know? If you want, I can pluck this feather out and give it to you." He then looked at Rean after that. "Tian, tell him. Am I not a very good blacksmith? Didn't I get my own position in the Drugo Organization with my own strength? Tell them how good my life was before they appeared."

At the same time, Rean received a Divine Sense message from Jakar. 'You better follow my story. Otherwise, my mom will really kill you since you're inside our sacred ground.'

Rean wanted nothing more than to kill Jakar instead. 'Fuck you! I'm not going to help you with it.' .

At the same time, Rean contacted Sister Orb. 'Sister Orb, prepare the Circuitry Teleport Formation. We're going to try our luck!'

[That's not a good idea. The space all around this mountain range is scrambled. Only someone like that Uncle Fran there could possibly teleport away from here without any risks.]

'For fuck's sake! Do I really have to follow this farce?' Rean couldn't help but complain.

[By the way,] Sister Orb continued. [The Winged Provis race just so happens to have the next item you two need for the Starlight Body Cultivation Technique. Did you forget? We need the Iridescent Tear, and they have it.]

Hearing that, Rean immediately smiled at Ligra and Fran, saying, "Indeed. Sorry for trying to pretend we didn't know each other before. It's just that your Uncle Fran was so strong that he scared me. Anyway, my friend Jakar here was right. He was really having a good life himself. His blacksmith abilities improved quite a lot since we first met, so you should be proud of him."

For some reason, Jakar felt like there was some ulterior motive for Rean's sudden change in behavior. 'Oh well, whatever.'

Ligra couldn't care less, though. "So what? We are spirits! Our Winged Provis Race uses no weapons, only our feathers! What use is there for a blacksmith here? That's nothing more than a waste of time!"

Jakar got angry when he heard that. Truth be told, Jakar really did like forging, even if it wasn't that useful for his race. "There you go again! Ignoring my own feelings and forcing your own values into me. The same goes for Uncle Fran and Dad."

Fran shook his head, though. "If you were any other spirit, we obviously wouldn't mind that much that you decided to live by yourself. However, you know the importance the Golden Feather holder carries to our spirit race."

Jakar still insisted. "So what? As long as it exists, there should be no problems, right? Why do I need to stay here and follow all this bullshit?"

It was then that another voice came out as yet another Winged Provis appeared. "Stop your nonsense! If you die, the Golden Feather dies with you! Don't tell me that you don't know what that means to our Winged Provis race."

​ Jakar immediately recognized the guy. "Dad!"

Rean continued to be confused. 'Mom and dad, even though they don't have genders... could it be that my notion is wrong?' Rean thought for a moment.

However, he quickly shook his head and asked Jakar what was bothering him instead. 'Just what the hell is this Golden Feather of yours?'