Chapter 72: Feeding |
At the West District, Samuel's house.
Celt sat on the sofa, his body relaxing as he leaned back against the couch cushion, sinking deeply into it as he completely let go.
The translucent Sereia still hung onto Celt, her body expanding and contracting slightly with the rhythm of his breathing, swelling gently in a steady pattern, then slowly shrinking back down.
Those tentacles coiled around Celt's body, wrapping around his neck, arms, and waist, moving with a subtle motion—brushing softly, sliding gently, sometimes tightening, sometimes loosening.
At that moment, the Travel Guide suddenly vibrated.
This was the "message alert" Celt had set for himself.
He couldn't help it—he was used to playing on his phone.
If only it could produce sound, Celt would have even set a notification ringtone.
His golden eyes, with their vertical pupils, slanted a glance at the guide nearby. Celt casually raised his left hand, and this book, now noticeably thicker than before, appeared in his grasp automatically.
*Flap flap.*
A crow flapping its wings flew out from the pages.
Instinctively, Celt reached out to grab the crow by the neck.
His first thought was that Samuel had sent this as food for Sereia.
But soon, he realized this crow wasn't a living creature in the true sense.
More precisely, it didn't have an independent soul.
This was a Illusion Magic clone made by Samuel.
The crow flew straight past Celt toward the half-open window, slipping out through the opening. It quickly vanished beyond the window.
As the crow passed by Celt, Samuel's cheerful voice rang in his mind.
"That place has no souls for you except humans. I figured you probably didn't want her eating people, so I thought I'd check if I could catch her a bird instead."
No soul?
Ah... oh?
Blinking, Celt's expression shifted from confusion to sudden understanding. Within just a second or two, he smoothly grasped Samuel's meaning.
So that was it.
His right hand rested on Sereia's umbrella-like cap, gently stroking the cool, smooth surface.
It felt nice.
One stroke, then another.
Time ticked away in the steady *tick-tock* of the mantel clock. Only about four or five minutes passed.
Soon, the sound of wings fluttering came from outside the window again. The crow flew back.
In its claws, it gripped a half-dead sparrow.
The sparrow's eyes were closed, and it didn't struggle.
It seemed to be asleep.
"Catch." The crow opened its beak and spat out human words.
Samuel's clone, carrying the sparrow, flew above Celt's head. It released its claws, dropping the sparrow toward Celt, and then burst into colorful bubbles with a *pop* in midair.
Celt immediately shot his free left hand up, catching the sparrow firmly.
He didn't grip too hard, afraid he might crush it.
He wasn't sure whether a soul would dissipate with a creature's death, but he figured fresh prey always tasted better than something dead.
Holding the sparrow, he brought it close to Sereia. Without opening his mouth, he let his intent reach her through his Spirituality, touching her body.
She didn't have ears, and Celt had no idea which organ she used to hear.
Probably her skin, he guessed.
"Time to eat. It's this bird."
This message was received by Sereia with perfect clarity.
The Nether-Floating Jellyfish, starved for days, extended a tentacle toward the sparrow in Celt's hand.
Celt loosened his grip, allowing the tentacle to easily take the sparrow.
Soon, the tentacle coiled around the sparrow, but Sereia didn't stuff it into her body.
Instead, she just held the sparrow suspended in midair, wrapped in her tentacle.
Celt didn't have Visual Perception, but he could activate the spiritual vision available to all Law Seekers.
Through that spiritual vision, he could vaguely see something being drawn out from the sparrow's body, turning into threads of energy that flowed along Sereia's tentacle into her form.
This was the feeding process of a Nether-Floating Jellyfish.
Quiet. Elegant. No blood splattering, no tearing or chewing.
The prey often didn't feel any pain.
Though tearing a soul apart was an excruciating ordeal, the soul-targeting toxins of Nether-Floating Jellyfish perfectly compensated for that.
The sparrow, already half-dead, was hit with the soul-essence toxin. Instead of suffering, it sank into a deeper, peaceful sleep.
A person's emotions reflect on their soul. To a Soul-Essence Creature, the taste of a tormented soul differs from that of a joyful one.
Unlike those Soul-Essence Creatures that preferred suffering, despair, and the like, Nether-Floating Jellyfish favored tranquil souls.
Perhaps it was because they were weaker even in the abyss that they had developed the habit of not toying with their prey.
Tasting a soul immersed in sweet dreams allowed their simple soul-essence to carry the "sweetness" of those dreams.
So they preferred to eat souls that had died in peace or in happiness.
If this feeding process were deliberately dragged out, it could last three days or even a week. During that time, the prey wouldn't wake up, but it might die of thirst or starvation.
The soul of a single mouse could sustain a group of Nether-Floating Jellyfish for a long time, but eating too much at once would be wasteful.
This had driven them to evolve another ability.
They could store excess "food" inside their bodies, eating bits as needed.
Soon, the sparrow's soul was "unraveled thread by thread" and completely "consumed" by Sereia.
This would grant her an incredibly long-lasting supply of energy—one charge better than six.
Without needing to share the food with her group, and with minimal movement, this reserve could easily keep her alive for over a year.
"Are you full?" Celt asked with a gentle smile, cupping Sereia in his hands and pressing lightly. His fingers felt the bouncy, cool texture of the Nether-Floating Jellyfish.
It was a bit like a large water balloon, but softer.
Sensing her content Spirituality, Celt smiled too.
"Get used to the environment here first. Once you're comfortable, I'll take you out for a stroll another day," Celt said.
Sereia sent back a vague, confused emotion.
She didn't understand why she would need to "stroll around," nor why Celt wanted to take her away from her "territory" to wander outside.
But since the current "leader" and "priest" of the group had said so, she wouldn't refuse.
Still, if she had to be honest, being able to drift around sounded wonderful.
Just as Celt had guessed.
In those areas rich with soul-essence, where Nether-Floating Jellyfish thrived, they always floated motionless in one spot.
But that wasn't because they naturally disliked moving. They were all collectively too hungry and dazed to bother.
Just then.
*Knock knock knock.*
A sudden knocking came from the front door.