Chapter 340 - Translation

Chapter 340 Inala’s Bullshit 2.0 Sanrey Plains, Ganrimb Kingdom Capital City! Walking through a wide corridor in the palace was Fhoong Brimgan, moving as a single body, with the remainder present in the throne room. Built adjacent to the palace was a smaller palace, meant for the concubines, existing solely to entertain him. With a wide grin, Fhoong Brimgan entered the place, denoted as the Crimson Palace. "We greet the Ganrimb King!" A row of concubines saluted him, their flowery dresses fluttering under the wind. The Crimson Palace was created with vents in such a fashion that the flowing air would circulate through its corridors and create strong winds within, keeping the place airy and fresh. It also created a spectacular scenery as the gowns of all the concubines fluttered as they walked, a sight that caused his heart to skip a beat, no matter how many times he saw it. "I'm here to visit Amita." Fhoong Brimgan addressed the leading concubine of the year. "This way," The leading concubine bowed and led the way forward, "She's staying put now." "Good." Fhoong Brimgan descended through a flight of stairs and arrived before a well-decorated room that doubled down as a prison. He opened the door and smirked at the figure kneeling on the floor before him, expecting his arrival. "The discussions are a success." "The Mudropper has accepted you as its disciple." "…Yes." The woman dressed like the queen was Amita Brimgan, his granddaughter, and the sole individual in the Ganrimb Kingdom that was allowed to succeed the surname of Brimgan. "Why aren't you happy?" Fhong Brimgan frowned, expressing mild anger, "I have given you an opportunity to surpass Free Humans and become a supreme existence." "What else are you dissatisfied with?" "I…just wish to paint." Amita Brimgan spoke meekly, "I'm not interested in something as absurd as surpassing the Boar King." "Foolish!" Fhoong Brimgan snorted as a chakram appeared beside him. He threw Amita Brimgan on it and carried her out, taking on his Kinesis Deity form as he left the Ganrimb Kingdom and ran towards the Sandy-Grey Void ring. "Is this the only way, grandfather?" Amita Brimgan asked, almost resigned to her fate. "Can't I just follow your cultivation path?" "You're supremely talented, Amita." Fhoong Brimgan sighed as he took a moment to explain in patience, "The level of affinity towards Prana that you're born with easily surpasses all Free Humans I have seen, even back at the Brimgan Empire. Born with 100 Prana, you're a supreme existence among Free Humans." "If anyone can surpass the Boar King, that's you." Fhoong Brimgan said, "And only the Mudropper can unlock that potential of yours." … "You were born with…a hundred Prana?" Wittral muttered in shock, "That's absurd." "I can't believe that is possible." "But here I am." Inala smiled wryly, "When I was born, my grandfather couldn't believe his eyes. Worried that someone might harm me, he locked me in the Crimson Palace. I was pampered, yes. But I never left the Crimson Palace until I was accepted as the Mudropper's disciple." 'Hundred?' The figure of the Boar King spying on their conversation was stunned by this information, 'That's better than even Yarsha. There's a second Free Human born with such an absurd genetic gift?' Having been living with Yarsha Zahara, the Boar King knew exactly how special she was. Wielding Prana came naturally as breathing to her. She could even mimic the abilities of Primary Natures such as Prana Shock without trouble. It was as if Sumatra Continent dumped all the good stuff that could exist among Free Humans into her. The more he lived with her, the more he understood her excellence. Yarsha Zahara was an individual who casually stood atop the rest of the Free Humans of Sumatra. 'And now, there's a second one?' Even the Boar King found it hard to believe, 'Moreover, she's born with a hundred Prana. Even Yarsha was only born with ninety-nine Prana.' It might only seem like a one-unit difference in Prana, but the implications were heaven and earth. While Yarsha Zahara was born with an absurd amount of Prana, Amita Brimgan was born with the maximum possible amount for someone at the Spirit Stage. This meant that the sole limitation inhibiting Amita Brimgan was the power system that limited cultivators at the Spirit Stage to possess a maximum of a hundred Prana. "I was naturally gifted at wielding Prana." Inala continued to speak, "I could mould it and release it to unleash effects on par with Iron Grade Natures like Prana Shock." His words shocked the two listeners, one more than the other as the Boar King witnessed the same from Yarsha Zahara, 'The fact that she can say this is enough proof that she was born similar to Yarsha.' "Now I understand why you always appreciated the scenery and painted," Wittral nodded, relating to Inala's situation. He was pretty restricted too, considering how valuable he was to the Cooter Clan. There was always someone accompanying him no matter where he went. Of course, his situation was many times better than Inala's, "Did it improve once you became the Mudropper's Disciple?" "No, it became worse." Inala sighed, "From a palace room to a region of stillness and darkness. It was horrifying to live in the Sandy-Grey Void." He pulled out a second scroll that displayed a picture of the Mudropper, continuing his story, "I felt stifled there." … The Mudropper exited the Sandy-Grey Void ring and stared at the figures of Amita and Fhoong Brimgan, opening its mouth to speak in human tongue, "For this cooperation, you'll supply me with all the necessary resources." "That's only natural." Fhoong Brimgan said and patted Amita Brimgan, "She's the one I told you about." "I can see that she's blessed by Prana." The Mudropper commented upon staring at Amita Brimgan, "Alright, I'll nurture her." "It's also to my benefit if she can enter the Mystic Grade." "Go on, greet your master." Fhoong Brimgan patted Amita Brimgan and returned to his Kingdom. "I greet master." Amita Brimgan bowed in response. "Address me as teacher from now onwards," The Mudropper said and brought her into the Sandy-Grey Void, "We'll first start by getting you accustomed to the Sandy-Grey Void." … "Wait a second." Wittral interrupted her in confusion, "If the Mudropper trained you to live in the Sandy-Grey Void, why were you that helpless when our ship was caught in the Sandy-Grey Void?" "What…ship?" Inala tilted his head, "I was waiting for the ship when Nurnur informed me about it. But when I woke up, I wasn't at the Fral Island anymore." "I had been brought to the mine at the Leh Island." "Then," Goosebumps formed on his skin as Wittral felt terrified, "Then who the heck was that with me?" "That was probably a clone of Loot, the Boar King," Inala explained. "Loot is…the insane Boar King?" Wittral asked, intending to confirm. "Yes," Inala nodded, "I have no idea what happened during his fight against the Mammoth Clan. But one body of the Boar King definitely went insane." "Three months after I became the Mudropper's disciple, he visited us, bringing with him three people enveloped inside a giant Prana Bomb." Inala gritted his teeth in anger, "Everything went downhill after that." "Loot caused a series of tragedies just because of his desire to reach the Mystic Grade." !

**Chapitre 340 : Les mensonges d’Inala 2.0** **Plaines de Sanrey, Capitale du Royaume de Ganrimb** Fhoong Brimgan avançait d’un pas décidé dans un large couloir du palais, tandis que le reste de son être se tenait dans la salle du trône. À côté du palais principal s’élevait un pavillon plus modeste, réservé à ses concubines—un lieu dédié à son seul plaisir. Un sourire aux lèvres, il franchit les portes de ce sanctuaire nommé le Palais Cramoisi. « Nous saluons Sa Majesté, le Roi de Ganrimb ! » Une rangée de concubines s’inclina devant lui, leurs robes légères flottant sous la brise. Le Palais Cramoisi avait été conçu avec des conduits d’aération stratégiques, créant des courants d’air constants qui rafraîchissaient l’atmosphère. L’effet était saisissant : les étoffes dansaient autour des femmes, offrant un spectacle qui le subjuguait à chaque visite. « Je viens voir Amita. » Fhoong Brimgan s’adressa à la première concubine. « Par ici, Votre Majesté. » Elle s’inclina et le guida. « Elle demeure recluse, comme à son habitude. » « Parfait. » Il descendit un escalier jusqu’à une chambre somptueuse—une prison dorée. La porte s’ouvrit sur une silhouette agenouillée, immobile. « Les négociations ont abouti. Le Mudropper accepte de te prendre comme disciple. » « ...Entendu. » La femme vêtue en reine était Amita Brimgan, sa petite-fille, et la seule héritière du nom royal. « Pourquoi cette froideur ? » Son sourcil se fronça, trahissant une colère sourde. « Je t’offre une chance de surpasser les Humains Libres, de toucher au divin. Qu’y a-t-il à redire ? » « Je… ne désire que peindre. » Sa voix était un murmure. « Vaincre le Roi Sanglier ne m’intéresse pas. » « Folle ! » Il gronda, un chakram matérialisé à ses côtés. D’un geste, il y projeta Amita, prenant sa forme de Divinité Kinésique pour s’envoler vers l’anneau du Vide Gris-Sable. « N’y a-t-il pas d’autre voie, grand-père ? » Amita semblait résignée. « Pourquoi ne puis-je suivre votre méthode ? » « Ton talent est unique, Amita. » Il soupira, s’efforçant de patienter. « Ton affinité innée avec le Prana éclipse tout Humain Libre, même sous l’Empire Brimgan. Cent Prana à la naissance—un prodige sans égal. Si quelqu’un peut défier le Roi Sanglier, c’est toi. » Son regard se fit intense. « Et seul le Mudropper peut révéler ce potentiel. » — « Cent Prana à la naissance ? » Wittral blêmit. « C’est… inconcevable. Comment est-ce possible ? » « Pourtant, c’est la vérité. » Inala sourit, amer. « À ma venue au monde, mon grand-père en resta stupéfait. Par crainte des convoitises, il m’enferma dans le Palais Cramoisi. J’y fus choyée, mais jamais libre—jusqu’à mon départ chez le Mudropper. » *Cent ?* Le Roi Sanglier, espionnant leur échange, sentit son cœur se serrer. *Plus encore que Yarsha. Une seconde exception génétique ?* Ayant côtoyé Yarsha Zahara, il connaissait son génie. Le Prana lui obéissait comme l’air à ses poumons. Elle reproduisait même les Natures Primaires—le Choc de Prana—sans effort. Sumatra semblait avoir tout investi en elle. Plus il l’observait, plus son exceptionnalité sautait aux yeux. Yarsha trônait, incontestée, au-dessus de l’humanité. *Et voilà qu’une autre apparaît ?* Lui, le Roi Sanglier, doutait. *Cent Prana. Yarsha n’en avait que quatre-vingt-dix-neuf.* Une unité de différence—un abîme. Si Yarsha défiait les lois, Amita les pulvérisait. Cent Prana : la limite absolue du Stade Spirituel. Son plafond ? Le système lui-même. « Le Prana m’était naturel. » Inala poursuivit. « Je le sculptais comme de l’argile, créant des effets proches des Natures de Grade Fer. » Le choc se lisait sur leurs visages. Le Roi Sanglier, surtout, reconnut le parallèle avec Yarsha. *Cette affirmation seule confirme leur similitude.* « Je comprends ton amour pour la peinture, maintenant. » Wittral hocha la tête, ému. Lui aussi connaissait la contrainte, précieux otage du Clan Cooter. On le surveillait, mais rien ne valait la cage dorée d’Inala. « Cela s’est-il amélioré avec le Mudropper ? » « Pire. » Un frisson parcourut Inala. « D’un palais à l’obscurité du Vide Gris-Sable. Un enfer silencieux. » Il déroula un second parchemin—un croquis du Mudropper. « J’étouffais. » — Le Mudropper émergea de l’anneau, toisant Amita et Fhoong Brimgan. Sa voix gutturale articula la langue humaine : « Pour notre alliance, vous fournirez toutes les ressources. » « Naturellement. » Fhoong Brimgan approuva, poussant Amita. « Voici la jeune femme promise. » « Bénie par le Prana. » Le Mudropper l’examina. « Je l’instruirai. Son ascension au Grade Mystique m’est utile. » « Salue ton maître. » Fhoong Brimgan sourit avant de s’éclipser. « Je vous salue, maître. » Amita s’inclina. « Appelle-moi " Professeur". » Le Mudropper l’entraîna vers l’anneau. « Ton apprentissage commence par l’adaptation au Vide. » — « Attends. » Wittral leva une main, sceptique. « Si le Mudropper t’a formée là-bas, pourquoi paniquer lors de notre naufrage dans le Vide ? » « Quel… naufrage ? » Inala cligna des yeux. « J’attendais le navire dont parlait Nurnur. À mon réveil, j’étais à la mine de l’île Leh. » « Alors… » Wittral sentit la peur le glacer. « Qui était avec moi ? » « Un clone de Loot, le Roi Sanglier dément. » « Loot est… le fou ? » « Oui. » Inala serra les poings. « Après son combat contre le Clan Mammouth, l’une de ses incarnations a sombré. Trois mois après mon arrivée, il est venu avec trois prisonniers dans une Bombe de Prana. » Sa voix trembla. « Tout a basculé. Loot a semé le chaos—rien que pour atteindre le Grade Mystique. »