Chapter 167: The Potrait (1/2)

After climbing the ladder, the group found themselves in a chill room.

The walls of the room had begun cracking, the furniture in it had been eroded by time, growing green life on their surface.

Cobwebs, accompanied with visible dust littered around. Ants and other insects came out to play in this outdated room.

However, if there was one thing that remained clean even after all these years, it was the bed.

The king-size bed was free from the eroding dust. There was not a single cobweb that dared linger around the edges of the beds. Even the playful ants avoided going near the bed.

”Why is it cold?” shivered River.

She couldn't afford to coat her body with her energy. So, she wrapped her arms around herself in a bid to create natural body heat.

Eden ignored her as he inspected the room. He touched the bed and trembled in shock.

At the tip of his fingers, a cold sheet of ice started spreading!

Immediately, Eden removed his hands and the sheet of ice disappeared.

He glanced at his hands a few more times before he gave his opinion, ”It's not naturally cold. It is said that the air most incorporeal netherans exhale is very strange. It is said to be cold. Yet, it isn't cold, but we perceive it like that.”

”So, you are saying….?” asked Renee.

”Someone lives here. Judging by the makeup of the room, this bed should be where the banshee queen sleeps,” mused Eden.

While he directly said the banshee queen slept here, it was widely known that netherans don't sleep. Nonetheless, most of them rest their mind by closing their eyes, imitating the other races' method of sleeping.

”See this”

As he kept examining the room, Eden was called by River who had noticed something.

He went to her positioned and looked at what she pointed at.

It was a painting of a beautiful woman sealed in thick clear glass. The woman in the painting smiled widely like she owned the world.

She was all alone when she commissioned the artist to take her painting. Yet, she still arched that alluring smile on her face.

On her neck was a beautiful necklace and on her fingers were expensive rings. Coupled with the long invaluable gown she wore and the way her hair was packed, Eden was able to guess that it was the lady of the manor.

”Do you think she is the….?” wondered River.

”It doesn't matter if she is the banshee queen or not. That wouldn't stop us, would it?” reminded Eden.

Scouring this part of the room, he was surprised that it was kept clean, not even a single dust could be found on it.

Beside the portrait were many other portraits. There was a portrait of the same woman and a child, the portrait of the woman and what looked like her husband, the portrait of the town from a remarkable perspective.

Trailing his hand across the portraits, he found a small bookshelf close to it.

He read the titles of some of the books, ”The gods of mortals. The mystery of Heaven. Hymn of the night. The Emperors. Gods or Emperors? A brief history of the world. The inauguration of emperors....”

”These books are all ancient,” murmured Eden.

He just realized that to be able to afford all these, the manor lord and lady were probably richer and more influential than all the southern kings.

They most likely were on par, if not greater, than the Astral sect. What a pity they fell....