Chapter 15: The Sages and a Sisterly Embrace

As everyone debated where to settle for the night, Angelina unexpectedly offered a suggestion, revealing her knowledge of an abandoned village nearby.

“I stumbled upon it on my way here,” she explained. “It appears the original villagers were all slaughtered by monsters.” A look of profound sorrow crossed her face as she recalled the horrific scene.

Guided by her words, we soon came upon a forest path, and a sudden realization struck me: I had walked this very road alone once before.

Continuing along the path for several more minutes, we soon beheld a small forest village, comprising a dozen or so houses, emerging into view.

A heavy silence fell upon us all. So close to the epicenter of such a disaster, it was impossible to remain detached; the unfolding tragedy felt almost inevitable.

The deserted village road, naturally, showed no signs of life, save for the occasional sight of mangled corpses. Many homes lay utterly destroyed, their remnants either half-collapsed or gaping with massive holes. Yet, upon rounding a bend, we were surprised to find a carriage parked by the roadside, adjacent to a surprisingly intact, isolated courtyard house.

This particular carriage bore a striking resemblance to the one I had previously missed.

“Oh, are there actually people here?” Brook exclaimed, a hint of surprise in his voice.

A faint light flickered within the house. Before I could even draw near, the door swung open on its own, revealing two middle-aged men clad in long, red robes. Their attire reminded me somewhat of Sally’s priestly vestments, though the color and gendered style were distinct. Notably, they carried no staves, but rather, each bore a lavishly bound book hanging from their waist.

“Are they from your church?” I whispered to Sally.

“No, they are Sages from the High Tower,” Sally replied, appearing remarkably unconcerned. “I’m unsure why they’ve come to this place, though it’s highly probable they’re investigating the aftermath of the recent battle.”

Before any of us could utter a word, one of the Sages addressed us.

“Are you also seeking lodging within this village?”

“Indeed,” Amos affirmed, stepping forward to engage in negotiations and clearly stating our intentions. “We merely seek shelter for the night and will depart tomorrow; we harbor no ill will.”

“So, you too have visited *that* place?” the other Sage promptly chimed in. “And… there are even two angels among your company.”

I was utterly astonished, for both Angelina and I had meticulously concealed our wings, yet they had discerned our true nature with a single glance. Moreover, the implication of “that place” in their words was clear to all of us, confirming Sally’s earlier suspicions.

“They are indeed angels,” Amos conceded, glancing back at us, making an effort to vouch for our innocence. “However, they are unaware of the full circumstances, which is precisely why we are also conducting our own investigation.” He then deftly steered the conversation back to them.

“It appears you possess more extensive knowledge,” he continued, “so might you be willing to share some insights with us?”

“It’s truly nothing significant…” The two Sages began, then trailed off, seemingly realizing they had been cornered. They turned and retreated into the house, leaving us with a curt dismissal. “This village offers many vacant dwellings, so we kindly request that you refrain from approaching this particular courtyard.”

Amos offered a helpless shrug in our direction. Left with no alternative, we resumed our journey along the road, quickly locating a small, two-story house that appeared relatively undamaged.

Naturally, no one was present within the house, but it remained surprisingly clean and orderly, given that not much time had elapsed since the calamity had struck.

Once we had decided to lodge there, everyone sprang into action. Brook and Amos took charge of preparing food, while Sally and Tiffany were tasked with cleaning and tidying the upstairs rooms.

I had initially intended to assist with cooking, possessing a certain confidence in my culinary abilities. However, upon entering the kitchen, I was dumbfounded to discover a traditional wood-burning stove. The two men, citing my strenuous efforts that day and the fact that Angelina and I were solely responsible for their survival, politely but firmly ushered me out of the kitchen, insisting I rest. Observing their demeanor, a sudden suspicion arose: were they perhaps afraid of my *help*?

“Is that a storage artifact?”

In the dining area, Angelina watched with keen interest as Tiffany produced a variety of ingredients. “That must be spatial magic at play, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Lady Angelina is truly remarkable; you discerned it at once!” Sally exclaimed, gazing at Angelina with profound reverence. In her eyes, the four-winged angel was an exalted being, and almost every word she uttered was laced with effusive praise.

Once the two women ascended to tidy the rooms, leaving only the two of us angels behind, Angelina drew a stool closer and sat beside me. Her voice filled with genuine concern, she inquired, “I overheard them say you’ve lost your memory?”

“Huh?” I responded, utterly bewildered as to why she had suddenly introduced the topic.

“Y-yes,” I stammered.

Truth be told, a twinge of guilt stirred within me. Angelina, after all, was an immensely powerful four-winged angel, and I feared she might discern my deception. Moreover, amnesia, a rare enough affliction for humans, seemed utterly preposterous when attributed to an angel.

“Actually, there’s a strong possibility that lost memories can still be recovered,” Angelina offered reassuringly, gently embracing my shoulder as she spoke softly. “They say the most effective method for regaining lost memories is to discover ways to stimulate them.”

“Really?” I mused, surprised that the people of this world held similar beliefs about amnesia. A quiet sigh of relief escaped me; it seemed she harbored no suspicions, and my secret remained safe. Being so intimately close to such a stunning angel, I found my thoughts beginning to wander, desiring nothing more than to prolong this moment. Thus, I made a conscious effort to engage with her conversationally.

“So, what methods might one employ to stimulate these memories?”

“I believe that if you were to interact more with relevant people and objects, it might prove quite beneficial for memory recovery. For instance…” She lifted her gaze, seemingly deep in thought about the matter, and her hand, which had been resting on my shoulder, imperceptibly slid lower, coming to rest quite naturally at my waist.

“For instance, anything related to angels!” Angelina finally exclaimed, her face turning towards mine. “You are an angel, after all, so it stands to reason that you would have had the most contact with other angels previously. Therefore…”

“That’s right! Since I am also an angel, do you recall anything upon seeing me?”

As her exquisite face slowly drew nearer, I felt an undeniable quickening in my heartbeat. Angelina was truly breathtakingly beautiful; on Earth, it would be nigh impossible for her to avoid fame. Even if she herself resisted, a single photograph uploaded online would undoubtedly send the entire entertainment industry into a frenzy.

“I sense that I might have encountered you somewhere in the past,” she murmured. “If you look closely at me, do you think you might recall anything?”

Had my current angelic form met her before? The thought, coupled with the reality of my soul transmigration, instantly heightened my anxiety; I was terrified of exposing my secret. However, a quick reconsideration suggested that as long as I maintained my amnesia claim and avoided any mention of the past, I should remain undetected.

“Ah… not yet,” I managed to say. A sudden pang of guilt struck me; was I once again deceiving a kind-hearted soul, or rather, an angel? Yet, despite my internal conflict, my body seemed to have a mind of its own, subtly inching closer to her.

“Is that so?” she responded, her expression tinged with a hint of disappointment. She sighed deeply, then, with what felt like a touch of wistfulness, pulled me even closer. “It’s alright; with perseverance, success is assured. I am confident that through frequent, in-depth communication and interaction between us, you will one day experience a spark of inspiration and recall everything.”

She then added a meticulous postscript.

“After all,” she elaborated, “the very essence of stimulating therapy lies in its unwavering persistence. As long as one does not surrender, the day of success will inevitably arrive.”

“Mmm…” I mumbled, practically enveloped in her embrace. I could feel the delicate contours of her body, and the exhilarating softness of her chest pressed against me, sending a flush of heat through my entire being. Excitement surged, yet it was undeniably tinged with a sliver of guilt.

Despite my considerable age, this was my very first experience of such intimate contact with a woman. In high school, I had been far too innocent; my relationship with Xu Qianran had never progressed beyond holding hands before our abrupt breakup. Consequently, I had remained dateless throughout college and even after graduation. Now, having transformed, to encounter such an unexpected romantic overture made me question if I was becoming a shameless opportunist, exploiting my angelic identity for personal gain.

“Dinner’s ready,” Amos announced, entering the room with a platter of cooked food. Upon seeing Angelina and me, he chuckled softly. “You angels certainly share a wonderful bond, don’t you? It seems you’ve only just met, yet your affection for one another is already so strong.”

“Naturally!” Angelina replied with a radiant smile, lowering her head to playfully rub my hair. She took a deep breath before adding, “Alas! It’s such a pity Flora has lost her memory, but even amnesia cannot extinguish the bond of sisterhood between us.”

Just then, Tiffany and Sally descended the stairs. With so many eyes now present, I no longer dared to overtly take liberties with Angelina; it felt utterly brazen. At the same moment, Brook emerged from the kitchen, carrying more dishes. I swiftly pushed myself out of her embrace, my face flushed crimson, and sat bolt upright, my gaze fixed downwards, unable to meet her eyes again.

“Oh, what’s wrong, Flora?” Tiffany inquired, seemingly noticing my unusual demeanor.

“Haha, it’s nothing at all…” Angelina offered a dry chuckle by way of explanation. “We were just discussing her amnesia, weren’t we, Flora?”

“Mmm…”

Observing my emphatic nod, I felt immense gratitude towards Angelina for extricating me from that awkward situation. I quickly urged everyone to begin eating.

Before long, dinner concluded.

After dinner, everyone settled down to rest. Amos and Brook engaged in a spirited debate about the day’s battle, weighing its gains and losses. Tiffany, meanwhile, clung affectionately to my arm, relentlessly plying me with questions about all things angelic. Yet, as a novice, ‘bootleg’ angel, I possessed no such knowledge, and could only deflect her inquiries with vague assertions of amnesia and forgotten memories.

Sally, on the other hand, persistently badgered her revered Angelina, ceaselessly questioning her about light magic and various aspects of the Celestial Realm. Angelina, however, appeared somewhat distracted, her responses intermittent and largely tangential to Sally’s eager inquiries.