Land of the Lost: Chapter 5

This anecdote was not fully retranslated 100%. Only lines or word choices that were mistranslated or poor localization choices were retranslated. Revisions made are tracked in red.

Revised English

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05 | Judgment of Fate

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After using up a substantial amount of energy for several days, Sylus can keenly feel that the energy he can harness has hit its limit. The invisible shackles within him

If any of the “captives” in the banquet hall were lucid enough, they’d notice that the mist holding them prisoner is slowly weakening. But unfortunately, several days of confinement and psychological torture have already broken these pleasure-seeking cowards.

Sylus gazes at the artificial garden enclosed by the pitch black, cold night. Pairs of animalistic eyes, hidden in the darkness, silently gaze at him from a distance. He wonders how long they’ve been trapped there and if their bestial instincts remain.

“Sylus… I really have emptied out my entire estate…” Trembling, a High Lord makes a confession, clearly falling in last place for failing to gather treasure equivalent to one hundred ships.

Sylus turns and walks over to the trembling High Lord, who cowers with fear, terrified that he might end up controlled like a puppet, just like the Overlord. He quickly shuts both eyes and begs, “Please…. Please… I beg you…”

“Sometimes, the real treasure isn’t what the eyes can see.” Sylus points at the sun setting in the distance as he looks at the High Lord with a faint smile on his face. “A valuable piece of information can be exchanged for a slim chance of survival.”

The High Lord slowly opens his eyes and sneakily glances at his peers before gritting his teeth. “...I know there’s a High Lord here who has quite the fortune elsewhere. It’s enough to fill 200 ships.”

Those words are like a fuse, igniting a cascading wave of betrayals and accusations. In a desperate bid to survive, the High Lords turn on one other, spilling secrets as easily as snow falls in winter.

“...I have some confidential intel! It’s about the Aether Core!”

At that moment, the brooch that Sylus had been continuously flipping between his fingers falls into his palm. He casually tosses the brooch onto the table. The sharp sound of metal clinking against the table is enough to make this pack of stray dogs tremble with fear.

“Have you ever heard of the ‘Eye of Aether’? The Overlord stashed it away in the vaults beneath the Northfall Mountains…”

Sylus glances at the Overlord's face as he sits on the throne. His reaction speaks volumes. The corners of Sylus’s mouth curl with a smirk. He has always appreciated those absurd yet captivating twists of fate that feel like a joke, just like now, when the answer he’s been searching so long for across the galaxy suddenly reveals itself in such an unexpected way.

Just that very moment, a string of lights appears on the horizon. A fleet of ships departs from the port, forming an enormous, dazzling necklace in the night sky.

Every time a perfect moment occurs, Sylus sometimes finds himself

It’s time to leave.

Sylus casts a sweeping look back over his shoulder at the cowards by the table still double-crossing one another. Maybe their ending should also be left to be arranged by fate’s hands.

He takes out his gun and unleashes a flurry of shots at the floor-to-ceiling windows. The High Lords cease their bickering, their eyes widening in horror at the firearm and pieces of glass littering the floor.

Sylus walks over the glass shards and strides into the artificial garden. Under the moonlight, the eyes hiding in the vegetation blink to life one by one like flickering lights, moving closer to him.

“Show me what’s left of you after spending so much time in captivity,” he says calmly, his right eye sweeping across the many pairs of fierce, beastly eyes.

The confusion in their eyes begins to fade. Hatred, like a drawn sword, gleams with sharpness in the dark night. Their amplified thirst for vengeance is directed at those responsible for hunting, trapping, butchering, and imprisoning them.

With a snarl, the beasts bare their teeth. Shadows dart into the banquet hall. The nefarious villains, all guilty of countless atrocities, barely have a moment to let out a scream before their blood paints the sin-stained fortress with an indelible vivid crimson.

Sylus turns and steps into the night.

—

“Myer, did you hear how everyone from the Overlord to High Lords died overnight on Feathers Star?”

“They’re saying the beasts kept in the fortress went mad and tore them into shreds.”

“The scene is too gruesome to describe as a Just one glance at the holographic replica can haunt someone for life.”

“And on that night, several hundred ships left the port simultaneously. We tracked them for a bit as they headed to various planets, but then we couldn’t track their signals any further.”

All the Enforcers in the fleet are talking about the astonishing Night of Blood that took place on the Feathers Star.

Myer enters the simulation room, pulling up the crime scene data for a holographic recreation. Fighting through the discomfort, he tries to find evidence to confirm his suspicions.

“Sylus… Sylus did it!”

The Enforcers, still in a heated discussion, are astonished as their colleague excitedly bursts into the room. Myer projects a holographic image of a brooch soaked in blood.

“Something made from the same material as this brooch appeared when Sylus escaped from Philos… Sylus was in this very banquet hall that night. He committed all these crimes… even plundered the entire planet’s wealth!”

The Enforcers scrutinize the analysis displayed on the screen. “The brooch’s raw material is at least several hundreds years old and has been used in countless artifacts over time.”

“As legendary as Sylus may be, the idea of one person looting an entire planet still seems far-fetched.”

“But without those tyrants, the wild animals of Feathers Star were spared. They were almost hunted to extinction.”

Before long, the conversation veers in a different direction. But in the background, that holographically reconstructed brooch seems to glimmer faintly at the dreamer still in pursuit of that impossible dream.

Original Chinese