Demi-human Girls Completion Manual Chapter 1626 - 107: The Solution

"I am the me of myself, I am the thought of thought."

"I am the song that cannot be listened to, I am the eye that cannot be perceived."

"Tell me, what am I?"

After Elliog had been sent contentedly back to her true body to sleep, Fisher had no idea how much time had passed. When he once more crossed the Competitive Gate, the Love and Desire Gate, and the Performance Gate, and returned to the Seeking Knowledge Gate to arrive at the palace doors of Helair, the riddle that opened the door still surfaced, demanding from Fisher—who already knew the answer—the same response.

Only now, Fisher suddenly felt a bit curious: why had Helair placed such a riddle at the door as the key to open it, and why was the answer to the riddle a concept as seemingly mysterious as "soul"?

"Soul."

Holding that thought, Fisher silently spoke the answer to the riddle before the Gate. When his formless words stirred layer upon layer of ripples on the door’s water-mirror surface, a narrow slit slowly parted in the center of the great door, opening up the space within.

Inside, the lights were bright, quite different from the desolate quiet that had greeted Fisher the last time he came—because now, the Angel who had wandered for so long had finally returned to this place.

Fisher stepped in and saw that the hanging paintings he and Elliog had taken down earlier had all been put back on the walls, neatly rehung. Except for the largest one—the painting of Fisher’s sleeping face—all the other frames, large and small, were already back up, appearing rather lovely under the bright light from above.

He did not see Helair’s figure, but in the hall on the first floor he did notice spare pigments and a sheet of blank paper that had not yet been painted on.

The blank paper held a wash of gray, seemingly the sketch before the actual work, but Fisher couldn’t make out what she meant to paint.

"Hmm~"

Just as Fisher was examining that yet-unstarted painting while searching for Helair’s figure, a muffled "hmm hmm" suddenly sounded behind him. He turned his head and saw a single-humped camel curiously sizing up this unfamiliar guest.

"Oh, it’s you..."

"Hmm hmm~"

Fisher quickly recognized what this fellow was, because this camel and the crown upon her head were both gifts he had given Helair ten thousand years ago.

Only, unlike that lifeless crown, Fisher had originally thought she had died in the long ages since, and had not expected her to be still perfectly well.

"You’re still here, and you look to be in great shape. I really don’t know how Helair managed that..."

Fisher reached out a hand, trying to stroke her head, but she hesitated and drew back a little. A second or two later, as though recognizing Fisher’s scent, she gently leaned forward again, nudging his hand with her head, and once more showed off her melodious voice:

"Hmm hmm hmm~ hmm hmm~"

"The Life Holy Object of Sorobato inside her has completely fused with her. In a certain sense, she’s already an Angel Holy Object rather than a camel, which is why she’s been able to stay with me for so long."

Just as Fisher smiled and prepared to stroke her head, Helair’s voice suddenly came from behind him, answering his unspoken question.

He turned and saw Helair, dressed in a sheer white gauze, her graceful body leaning lazily against the first-floor staircase, smiling at him with narrowed eyes. The crown atop her head sat askew, the phantom wings at her back fluttered, stirring up the morning light, which was tugging another piece of furniture—a table and chairs—down the stairs, apparently to put this new set on the first floor.

"I was napping, and then I heard you come in. Perfect timing—I was just thinking of asking you to lend a hand..."

Helair’s bare feet floated just above the floor as she slowly descended the staircase. With a casual motion she set the table and chairs in the very center, without looking in Fisher’s direction, and then beckoned again. The morning light dragged out the huge painting of Fisher’s sleeping face from the second floor and sent it flying down. Fisher noticed she had given this painting a new frame; the previous one seemed to have been broken by Elliog’s cat when they took it down.

Fisher helplessly accepted the painting offered by the morning light, but still couldn’t help asking,

"Can’t you just use that morning light to hang it up directly?"

"It’ll end up crooked. I’ll trouble you instead—and I’ve got a reward for you when you’re done~"

Helair folded her arms, lightly flicking the milky-white gauze she wore as she spoke.

Fisher took the oil painting she passed to him via the morning light and did not bring up any reward. She probably just wanted him to help. Fisher, for the moment, had no idea what to say to her, and could only use this little task to while away the time before getting to the real topic.

He had said he was coming back to say goodbye. Given the connection between them, if he was going to leave this place and not see her for a long while, he ought at least to tell her so.

"When did you paint this?"

"The one in your hand? A few thousand years ago, when that little thing by your side came to the Dynasty searching for the mystery of his origin."

"I see..."

Only now, as he looked at the oil painting in his hands, about to be hung upon the wall, looked at himself engraved within it by her brush, was Fisher perhaps truly able to realize that she too had waited for him for a full ten thousand years.

"Aren’t you going to ask why I painted this picture?"

"To annoy Elliog?"

"Hahaha, if I wanted to annoy her—or any woman you know—I have endless ways to do it. Why would I resort to this one?"