Chapter Thirty-Seven: The Ox-Head

"You have successfully fused your second Persona Mask. The Heartless Puppet’s rank has increased to LV2, and the maximum storable emotion value has risen to 200 points."
"Ability acquired: Extraction (Temporary). You can extract a skill from a fused Persona Mask and equip it in your skill slot. Once extracted, the Persona Mask is destroyed. The equipped skill occupies one skill slot and disappears after use."
Yan Luo was momentarily taken aback.
Extraction?
He had already learned from Wang Dongwei that, similar to the gene slots, the skill slots were limited to eight.
For newcomers, skills were rather rare.
Yet this ability could extract skills from Persona Masks and equip them—wouldn’t that mean he’d never lack skills again? But these skills were only temporary, vanishing after one use… Would it be possible, in the future, to extract skills that were permanent?
Yan Luo thought of the Nightmare’s "Hellfire" and "Aura of Terror."
This ability essentially allowed Yan Luo to select and combine skills at will from a vast array of materials. To think that after just two Persona Masks, his Destiny Talent had already upgraded—this indicated the Heartless Puppet had immense potential and many levels.
In his consciousness, he turned to examine the newly fused mask.
The first time, after fusing the Persona Mask: Nightmare, he had immediately used it to deal with the Twisted Abomination. Now, Yan Luo could carefully inspect the mask.
Persona Mask.
Ghost Guard: Ox-Head
The previous Nightmare belonged to the category of Beasts, but this one was a Ghost Guard. Ghost Guards were said to be enforcers in the Underworld, keepers of spirits. Ox-Head, as legend had it, had the body of a man and the head of an ox. Greedy by nature and paired with Horse-Face, they were the lowest-ranking constables in the Underworld.
The skills of this Ghost Guard were:
Spectral Weapon (Axe), Execution, Intimidation.
Spectral Weapon referred to conjuring a weapon out of energy; for Ox-Head, it was a great axe. Execution was a powerful physical attack, while Intimidation released an aura to frighten the opponent. Clearly, these three skills did not match the Nightmare’s Aura of Terror, Hellfire, or Nightmare’s Breath in power.
But Ox-Head and Nightmare had different strengths—the latter relied entirely on energy in combat, while Ox-Head’s mainstay was brute strength.
Of the three skills, the most valuable was undoubtedly Spectral Weapon; in essence, this skill materialized energy into substance. Yan Luo lacked ghostly energy but could activate this skill by consuming life or mental sources. However, the weapon conjured would only ever be an axe, and once extracted and equipped, the skill would disappear after a single use.
Its value thus plummeted.
"At last, I have another Persona Mask."
Yan Luo needed a trump card now; naturally, he would not extract it.
"LV2. A Persona Mask fused with 200 points of emotion should be far stronger..."
"Hmm?" Yan Luo noticed something: although the Heartless Puppet had risen to LV2 and its capacity had increased to 200, the Ox-Head Persona Mask, if unused, still occupied 100 points, meaning he could only absorb another 100 points of emotion for other masks.
"Nightmare was Chaotic Evil. Ox-Head... is it Chaotic Evil or Lawful Evil? I’ve only created it so far, not worn it—otherwise, my soul’s pollution level would surely rise."
"As for the 100-point capacity limit, it’s not a problem. Last time, I got mask fragments from a failed fusion, which I can use to accumulate first-level mask fragments and assemble a Heroic Soul Mask!"
At this time, the Athenian Acropolis stood as the most democratic and prosperous city in all of Greece, perhaps even the most civilized in the Western world of this era. When the Senate proclaimed that three envoys from an eastern land had come to spread their civilization and referred to the Greeks as "barbarians," the entire city-state erupted.
Athens was a slave society.
Yet it was also a trade hub.
A city lacking neither resources nor wealth, with ample leisure and an open mind, would surely pursue culture and the arts.
There were 210,000 foreigners and slaves in Athens, supporting just 30,000 citizens. These idle citizens, bored out of their minds, were always seeking amusement. Thus, in this era, theaters, brothels, and gymnasiums abounded. Poetry, drama, and sculpture flourished.
Now, a great scandal had occurred!
Three strangers from who-knows-where had come to Athens to spread their civilization? At first, the tale was simply a joke—until Consul Pericles donned the leather armor and autumn trousers presented by the foreign envoys.
The entire Senate was shaken by these two garments. In the words of a soldier, young Daiphus: "Did I see Zeus himself?" The brilliant orange and blue seemed like colors gifted by the gods; the exquisiteness of the leather armor and the softness of the trousers were the talk of every senator. Someone even composed a poem about them.
Countless citizens surged toward the Senate square, where Chief General Pericles was presently displaying the garments.
He held a golden scepter.
Wore a leather jacket on top.
And autumn trousers below.
At the sight of these clothes, the highly artistic Athenians instantly realized that only a supremely prosperous country could produce such things!
Of the thirty thousand citizens, including women and children, only a little over seven thousand were actual adult males.
When the crowd was nearly assembled, Pericles raised his consul’s scepter and pressed down to silence them.
The previously noisy Athenians quieted down.
"I am your Chief General, your Consul, the representative and executor of Athenian power!"
"Now, I have something to say to you."
Clad in leather and autumn trousers, Pericles stood tall and proud. Though aged, his voice rang out strong and clear.
"I have gathered our thinkers and artists to advise me and made democracy our core ideal. I have adorned our streets with magnificent sculptures, given my heart to music and painting, and built ships bearing the names of liberty and freedom of speech. I led Athens’ glory beyond the Aegean to the Black Sea. We defeated the mighty Persians, spreading civilization to countless barbarians."
"This is our era—the Age of Athens!"
"Aw, aw, aw..." Pericles’ speech greatly stirred the pride of the Athenians, and many cried out passionately.
"And now, there are several people from a land we have never heard of—Cathay—three strangers who scorn Greek civilization and even call us barbarians. Is this not the greatest shame for Athens? Can we tolerate such a thing?"
"No!"
Some young men clenched their fists, veins bulging on their foreheads.
"We could send soldiers to kill those three foreigners, but! Destroying them physically will not wash away our shame. We are not Spartans, but Athenians—the greatest, most civilized, and just people in the world!"
"Yes, yes..." Some citizens raised their hands high, beaming with pride.
"Behold the halls of the gods!"
Pericles pointed his scepter toward the hills of Athens, where the temples stood: "The temple of Zeus, the temple of Hera, and, during my tenure as consul, the Parthenon, the Hephaestus Temple, the Temple of Poseidon at Sounion, the Erechtheion..."
"The gods are watching us!"
"The day after tomorrow, atop this hill, before the temple of Athena the Wise, let us overwhelm those foreigners with our civilization and show them the splendor and might of Athens! Perhaps Cathay is a civilized nation, but we are Athens, favored by the gods, the jewel of Greece!"
"Aw, aw, aw!" The crowd was roused to a fever pitch.
"Now I ask you..." Wearing blue autumn trousers, Pericles leaped onto a stone platform, shouting above the crowd, "Where are our historians?"
"Herodotus! Thucydides!" Amid the citizens’ cheers, two men in the crowd smiled and nodded to those around them.
"Where are our tragedians?" Pericles cried again.
"Sophocles! Euripides!"
"Where are our scientists?"
"Hippocrates! Democritus!"
"Where are our philosophers?"
"Socrates! Socrates! Socrates..." The thunderous cry echoed above Athens, nearly tearing the sky asunder.
Inside the Cartha camp, Wang Dongwei was sewing clothes as he regaled Zhu Xiaoyong and Yan Luo with tales of Cathay’s history, mythology, ancient sages, and the thoughts and cultures of the Hundred Schools of Philosophy.
In a short time, he had lost all hope for the chubby Zhu Xiaoyong. This fatty could remember the complicated, tongue-twisting names of ship girls, distinguish which were emotionless, which had long black hair, which were tsundere, and recount the names of every anime girl, but when it came to the ancients, he was utterly clueless.
Yan Luo, on the other hand, surprised him.
After hearing something once or twice, he could remember it, and even quickly understand it—even if he hadn’t reached photographic memory, he was close.
The subtle increase in intelligence from being a primary lifeform, plus the 10% intelligence boost from the "Joy" aspect of his "Seven Emotions" mask, made a difference.
"Yan Luo, over the next day or so, I’ll teach you all the ancient culture of Cathay that I know."
"You go ahead and do it yourself," Zhu Xiaoyong interjected.
"It’s not that I don’t want to step forward, it’s just that I..." Wang Dongwei’s expression was somewhat bitter. "Maybe it’s because I’ve failed too many times, but I’m just too nervous in public, sometimes even paralyzed and at a loss... My nerves just aren’t strong enough..."
"Yan Luo, your adaptability and mental resilience are much better than mine. We have to rely on you now."
"Overwhelming the Greeks with culture won’t be easy. Athens, right now, is full of Western sages and talents. But it doesn’t matter—we have the civilization of Cathay behind us, the ancient ancestors like Nuwa, Fuxi, and Xuanyuan, the sages like Laozi, Confucius, and Mozi."
"We’re not just representing ourselves. Whether for the sake of the Olympics or for the name of Cathay, we cannot lose! Even if you have to face thousands upon thousands of Athenians."
You feel a surge of emotion:
Expectation +10
Yan Luo gazed at Wang Dongwei and nodded slightly. "Your intentions, I have already understood."
"When righteousness calls, though a million stand in the way, I shall press on!"