As night fell, Siles packed everything away and opened Professor Cabel’s library borrowing records.
He had obtained this record last Thursday, but due to various reasons, he was only just sitting down to read it now. He noticed the log was handwritten by Mrs. Longman and was divided into several columns.
The left side contained the book titles and their shelf locations, while the right side detailed the borrowing date, return date, and any additional notes.
Professor Cabel had an extensive borrowing history. However, to Siles’s surprise, the earliest entry was from a mere seven years ago. In other words, that was when he first became a professor at Lamifa University.
Siles had always assumed that Professor Cabel had been teaching at the university for decades.
The moment he realized this, he immediately thought: If that’s the case, what was Professor Cabel doing before he came to Lamifa University? What was he researching? Why did he become a professor here?
If it had been in the past—before Professor Cabel went missing, and before Siles had uncovered all this information about him—he wouldn’t have suspected the professor’s history.
It was entirely possible for a scholar to immerse themselves in their research for a long time, completely isolated and detached from the world. This was especially true in this era. Siles could understand that.
But Professor Cabel’s reputation for being reclusive, gloomy, and borderline mad had been deeply entrenched since four years ago, right when the original Siles Noel first entered Lamifa University.
At that time, Professor Cabel had only been at the university for three years. When Siles first enrolled, there must have been students who had interacted with Cabel back when he was still a new professor.
Therefore, it was highly likely that Cabel had already possessed this eccentric persona from the very day he became a professor. Otherwise, given the academic culture of apprenticeship in this era and the high level of respect afforded to professors, Siles found it hard to believe Cabel would have developed such a reputation so quickly.
…Which meant Professor Cabel’s eccentricity didn’t develop after he joined Lamifa University. He was already like this before he even arrived. His research and projects had begun long before his tenure at the university.
In tabletop RPG terms, the moment Cabel became a professor, his Spirituality was already extremely high, and his Willpower was already critically low.
What exactly was he researching? The truth behind the fall of the gods? Siles couldn’t help but wonder.
He pondered over the start date of the borrowing log for a moment before continuing to read.
Because he realized that Professor Cabel might have already started his research prior to entering Lamifa University, Siles felt that this library record might not hold as much value as he initially hoped.
…But not necessarily. Siles’s train of thought took a turn.
If Cabel’s research had started long ago—then why did he enter Lamifa University to become a professor? Judging by his past behavior, he was not an amiable man who harbored a passion for teaching.
Therefore, he had an ulterior motive.
The only question was whether this motive was internal or external. Did he need some specific help from within Lamifa University, or did he need the prestigious title of a “Lamifa University Professor” for matters outside the university?
Siles thought about it for a moment, then decided not to waste time on a question that currently had no answer.
He began flipping through the borrowing records, focusing heavily on the books that had been checked out for extended periods. Ultimately, he singled out three books that had the longest borrowing durations and possessed highly suspicious titles.
The standard borrowing period at the Lamifa University Library was three months. Yet, without exception, these three books had been kept for over six months.
What could possibly cause a senior professor to study a single book for half a year?
He examined the three titles: Both Ends of the Scale: Commerce and Civilization, The Sinful God, and Lost Heritage: Famous yet Scattered Manuscripts.
The first was obviously related to Menavaca. The second made Siles slightly suspicious; it brought to mind Hudedoka, the God of Sin and Lies, though it could also refer to certain actions taken by the gods in the past, such as excessively interfering with the operations of human empires.
As for the third book, Siles couldn’t deduce much from the title alone.
It wasn’t as if Siles had absolutely no memory of these three books. The original owner of his body seemed to have read the first one, but that was a long time ago. It didn’t have much to do with his major, so he had only skimmed it.
Siles had seen the second book before as well, but again, it was unrelated to his field of study, so he hadn’t paid it any attention.
As for the third book, Siles drew a complete blank. He figured he could perhaps ask Mrs. Longman about it. Truthfully, he was quite interested in the manuscripts lost to the long river of history.
Aside from these three books, Siles also noticed that, just as Mrs. Longman had complained, Professor Cabel’s return dates were always chronically late.
For a three-month borrowing period, Professor Cabel would always drag it out for an extra two months, often returning the books perilously close to the final deadline on the very last day.
Recalling the chaotic, cluttered state of the office the first time he entered it, Siles couldn’t help but think, That figures.
Professor Cabel’s personal habits don’t seem to have been very good, he mused.
Siles read the borrowing log from start to finish a few times, letting out a faint sigh of relief only after confirming he hadn’t missed anything.
There were no groundbreaking discoveries, but he did find some interesting books through the log. He could ask Mrs. Longman about them tomorrow.
The night was growing late. Siles tidied up his desk, thought about his itinerary for the next day, and went to bed early.
The next morning, he woke up at six o’clock. This had already become his biological clock. After washing up, Siles left his apartment. He first went to the cafeteria for breakfast, then headed to the library.
“Good morning, Mrs. Longman.” Siles greeted her, handing back Professor Cabel’s borrowing records.
“Good morning, Siles,” Mrs. Longman said. “Did you find anything?”
“A few things,” Siles replied. “You mentioned that Professor Cabel always returned books late, but after reviewing his records, I found that only three books severely exceeded the return deadline.”
“Oh, Siles,” Mrs. Longman said with a hint of dissatisfaction, “Three books! Is that not enough?”
Siles smiled apologetically and asked, “May I borrow those three books?” He then recited the titles.
“Of course you may. Those are all second-floor books,” Mrs. Longman replied.
Second-floor books meant they could be checked out, rather than being restricted to in-library reading only.
Siles took the slip Mrs. Longman wrote for him, went to the second-floor borrowing section, and retrieved the three books he wanted. Afterward, he bid Mrs. Longman farewell.
“I hope you don’t adopt that Professor Cabel’s work ethic.” Mrs. Longman clearly harbored a deep-seated grievance against Professor Cabel. “Though, of course, you are a good boy, Siles.”
“I will return them on time, Mrs. Longman. Please don’t worry,” Siles said politely.
Only then did Mrs. Longman offer a satisfied smile.
Siles brought the three books to his office. He noticed an envelope slipped under his office door. He opened the door, set the books on his desk, and turned back to pick up the letter from the floor.
He looked at the sender’s name on the envelope—Horatio Dwight—and paused in surprise. Then, he remembered that shortly after the semester began, Horatio had met with him to discuss matters regarding the “Chronicles of Suffering” student club.
At the time, Horatio had mentioned that he would write to Siles after every weekly meeting to report on the club’s activities and findings.
Siles felt a twinge of guilt, as he had completely forgotten about the club. Meanwhile, Horatio Dwight proved to be a highly responsible club president.
Siles sat down, opened the envelope, and read the contents.
Horatio was as polite and respectful as ever. In the letter, he summarized the club’s Saturday afternoon activities. They had compiled a list of known behaviors related to the concepts of self-restraint and self-punishment practiced by believers of various gods, and they had divided the labor, with each member taking charge of researching a specific section.
He mentioned several self-restraint practices, such as some believers observing fasting days, or others forbidding themselves from bathing or washing their hair on specific dates.
Although their research topic was very concrete and detailed, Siles vaguely sensed a subtle lack of depth in their approach.
Horatio stated their ultimate goal was to write a research paper. However, judging from the club’s current activities, they seemed to be solely focusing on the behaviors themselves, rather than the meaning behind those behaviors.
For example, what exactly did such self-restraint signify? Was it a divine constraint placed on human beliefs and thoughts? Furthermore, was Horatio’s stance critical or supportive? How would they determine the significance of such behaviors to humanity, or even to human civilization as a whole?
Siles couldn’t help but think a bit deeper about it.
He thought that if the opportunity arose in the future, he might participate in the club’s activities.
He placed the letter in his office drawer.
There was still more than an hour before his morning elective class began. After a moment of thought, Siles picked up Lost Heritage: Famous yet Scattered Manuscripts and casually flipped through it.
On the cover of this book were some “stains” that Mrs. Longman had likely complained about in the past. Siles touched them; they felt like some sort of… black mud?
He frowned, lightly wiped away the grime, and then opened the book. He first looked at the table of contents.
Just as Siles had expected, the contents of the book were fascinating.
It detailed numerous manuscripts that had been lost, destroyed, or scattered throughout history—including letters, notes, drafts, and diaries—covering materials from various distinct eras.
Stone carvings from the Era of Gods’ Birth, murals from the Era of Faith, wooden tablets from the Era of Empire, parchment from the Era of Shadows, paper from the Era of Silence… these were the traces left behind by different epochs.
To Siles’s surprise, it even mentioned Conan Fremont. Of course, the book didn’t specify where one might find other volumes of Fremont’s works, but it did provide some related information.
It was truly bizarre that the original owner of his body hadn’t found this book when writing his graduation thesis.
Just as Siles thought this, he suddenly froze. No, that’s not right.
The original Siles was diligent and meticulous. Siles didn’t believe he could have just failed to find this book.
Siles carefully recalled the date Professor Cabel had borrowed this book, as well as the return date. Then, he couldn’t help but sigh.
It coincided perfectly with the first half of this year—the exact time the original Siles was writing his thesis.
In other words, the original Siles couldn’t include this book in his thesis bibliography because Professor Cabel had it checked out. Of course, this just seemed like an unfortunate coincidence.
The reference books and papers the original Siles had found were sufficient to support his thesis anyway.
But the timing of Professor Cabel borrowing it…
He went missing in July—right after returning this very book. This was also the book Professor Cabel had returned the latest.
Siles furrowed his brows. He felt the matter was a bit fishy, yet also felt it might just be a coincidence.
Shaking his head and deciding not to overthink it, he began reading the main text of the book.
Suddenly, he stopped.
“…
For many believers during the Era of Silence, the fall of the gods was unfathomable, driving them to commit various acts of madness. In a fragmented diary belonging to a follower of Hudedoka, we can catch a glimpse of some of the darker aspects of this period.
‘I erect a statue for my god; my god strips death from me.’
This phrase has sparked debate among scholars, and different people—including the followers of Hudedoka themselves—held differing views and stances on the matter.
Regardless, after consulting relevant historical documents, the author believes that the events which transpired at the time serve as the perfect footnote to this phrase.
During a certain stage of the Era of Silence, people would frequently discover a corpse inside humanoid statues. Without exception, these corpses belonged to individuals who had committed suicide and willingly allowed themselves to be sealed within the hollow, cold sculptures.
Did they hope to escape death through this? Or perhaps, through such a sinful act, they vainly attempted to draw closer to their god?
…”
Siles sat there, stunned.
Statues? Statues?!
Almost subconsciously, Siles raised his head and looked at the bookshelf directly across from his desk. He thought of the female head statue that Professor Cabel had left behind on that very shelf.
A wave of intense chills instantly surged through his heart. He curled his increasingly cold fingers. An indescribable sense of nausea and dread made him furrow his brows.
He realized that it was only after understanding the concept of a “Time Trace’s completeness” that he had been able to perceive the bizarre nature of that female head statue. In other words, that statue… was incomplete.
Siles frowned deeply.
It took him a moment to snap out of that dark emotional state.
He closed the book, stood up, walked to the window, and looked out at the scenery, slowly letting out a breath. He knew these two things couldn’t necessarily be equated, but…
Siles closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, forcing his mind onto other matters.
Professor Cabel had left behind three items: the female statue, the necklace, and the fountain pen.
If the female statue pointed to Hudedoka, and the necklace pointed to Menavaca, then what about the pen? Which god did that correspond to?
The followers of Hudedoka had engaged in the practice of sealing corpses within statues. However, Siles didn’t believe such a practice could emerge out of nowhere. Any custom or behavior has an underlying, fundamental motive.
For example, the wandering bards had the custom of “dying in a foreign land” because they held the intention and hope that “the paradise of the gods only accepts souls who die in foreign lands.”
So what did this behavior of Hudedoka’s followers signify? Did it also correspond to Hudedoka’s “paradise”?
Was it a behavior… akin to a sacrifice?
This was the first time Siles had ever heard of such a thing.
It wasn’t until there were only ten minutes left before ten o’clock that Siles snapped back to reality. He hurriedly tidied his desk, grabbed his lesson plans, and headed to the classroom.
He was somewhat absent-minded for the entire lecture. Fortunately, his expression was always perpetually tranquil, so the students didn’t notice his distraction.
When the class ended, Siles lowered his eyes to organize his notes, thinking he still had time to grab a meal at the cafeteria before heading to Atherton Square to meet Lanmere.
Just as he was thinking this, a voice suddenly sounded beside his ear: “Professor.”
He looked up to see that all the students had left the classroom, save for Angela Clayton and her friend Millicent Austin.
“Miss Clayton, Miss Austin,” Siles greeted them. “Is there something you need? Was there something in the lecture…”
“No, it’s not that, Professor,” Angela said. “We wanted to talk to you about… the matter with Food Town.”
Siles paused slightly, then asked, “Did you hear some news?”
Millicent, who had been standing quietly to the side, gathered her courage and spoke softly to Siles. “Professor… it’s, it’s like this. I heard some news from my father. I thought… since you were there the day before yesterday, you… you should know as well.”
Angela added on her behalf, “Millie’s father maintains close contact with many merchants and also has good relations with many figures within the Duchy.”
He’s likely a high-ranking noble, then, Siles thought.
He asked, “What news?”
“My father said,” Millicent spoke in a soft whisper, “someone paid a certain price to get the Duchy officials to drop the investigation into this matter. And as for Food Town… they guaranteed that this situation will not happen again.”
Siles couldn’t help but frown.
The three of them fell into silence for a moment.
Then, Angela spoke up, her tone quite gloomy. “That’s just how the world works.”
Siles thought for a moment and said, “It’s not entirely surprising.”
Even though the situation at Food Town two days ago had reached a boiling point, the large-scale conflict ultimately hadn’t broken out. Consequently, the ensuing accountability wouldn’t be overly severe.
Of course, Siles also suspected that while the official, public investigation had been dropped, whether the covert investigation by the Illuminators was still ongoing remained an unknown variable.
Angela and Millicent looked quite disheartened.
Siles said, “If you want to do something, then do your best to persuade others not to go to the southern suburbs… just in case another incident occurs.”
The two students exchanged a glance, then nodded firmly. “We will.”
They said their goodbyes and left.
Siles stood alone in the classroom, carefully pondering the Food Town incident.
He wasn’t surprised that the matter had developed to this outcome, but the speed at which it happened was somewhat absurd.
Millicent coming to tell him the news today meant that this decision had been finalized by at least this morning, or perhaps even yesterday. Without a truly powerful figure making the final call, Siles didn’t believe the administrative bodies of the Duchy of Konst possessed such high efficiency.
Or rather, no administrative body could. This was a near-massacre with incredibly complex implications. It was very difficult to rapidly reach an effective consensus on something of this nature.
Yet, the decision had been made in record time.
…It was either the mastermind behind the scenes, or Food Town itself. Whichever it was, a truly powerful figure was undeniably backing them.
It might even be connected to the Illuminators—if the Illuminators’ investigation had been called off as well.
Siles couldn’t help but sigh.
He went to the cafeteria for lunch, then hurriedly caught a carriage to Atherton Square. He arrived at the designated meeting spot ten minutes before 1:00 PM.
Lanmere, Emmanuel, and an unfamiliar middle-aged man had already arrived and were chatting merrily.
“My apologies, I’m late,” Siles said apologetically.
“Not at all, Professor Noel!” Lanmere said enthusiastically. “You’re right on time.”
Siles sat down and said, “It seems you’re having a good chat?”
Lanmere replied, “Indeed. Mr. Emmanuel is a learned and wise scholar.” He nodded at Emmanuel with a beaming smile.
Siles turned his head to look at Emmanuel. He still appeared haggard and exhausted, but perhaps because he was meeting people today, he had specifically tidied up his appearance and was wearing a beautiful formal suit.
It wasn’t a Konstian-style suit, but rather the attire of the Duchy of Kansas. Exquisite embroidery covered most of the upper garment, looking luxurious and complex.
“We were just talking about that explorer,” Emmanuel said softly.
Siles stayed silent for a moment.
Unaware of the hidden depths behind their conversation, Lanmere simply said, “Yes. I ran into that explorer by chance in the Emberlands. He was already at death’s door. I took care of him for a few days.
“Although he tragically passed away, he entrusted his travelogue to me before he died.”
“Did he mention how you should dispose of the travelogue?” Emmanuel asked.
“No. He told me to handle it however I saw fit.”
Emmanuel pondered for a moment before asking, “Did he mention anything about the Emberlands? Gladstone, or Gainsford… You know, I’m a folklorist. I’m very interested in these things.”
Siles understood Emmanuel’s true intent—he wasn’t actually interested in the Emberlands. He was interested in the explorer’s experiences there, and how he came to know information regarding the “Non-existent City.”
However, Siles didn’t know much about the “Non-existent City,” nor did he know the contents of the final two-thirds of the travelogue.
Lanmere looked a bit surprised and asked, “Does this relate to the translation of the travelogue?”
“There are some ambiguous sections in the travelogue. I was hoping to glean some relevant information from the explorer’s final words, of course, if…”
“No, no, it’s fine. I was just a bit curious,” Lanmere said. “That explorer didn’t speak Konstian very well, so we didn’t converse much. However, his sudden appearance left a deep impression on me.”
“Why?” Emmanuel pressed.
Siles and the publisher also looked over curiously.
As if suddenly remembering something, Lanmere diverted the topic. “Ah, right! I haven’t introduced you yet, Professor Noel. This is Mr. Enoch Benton, a publisher.”
Enoch Benton, however, spoke quite bluntly. “Alright, Lanmere, stop keeping us in suspense.” He then turned to Siles. “Good afternoon, Professor Noel. I read your novel; it is excellent. Of course, we can discuss that at our leisure.
“For now, let’s hear this wondrous tale from this fellow’s mouth. It’s a quiet afternoon, perfect for a story.”
Lanmere laughed. He shifted into a more comfortable posture and began, “When I encountered that explorer, I happened to be busy with the Stardust business.
“The Stardust mining vein we discovered was located in Gladstone. We needed to transport the excavated Stardust via railway to Galsworth. Of course, that vein has since been fully depleted and abandoned.
“…It was around this time last year, in October. It had been raining all day. So we all felt the transportation that day would be very rough. Stardust is a delicate commodity.
“I was quite anxious at the time, constantly urging the workers to hurry up so the Stardust wouldn’t get ruined by the rain. After we finished loading, checked the inventory, counted the workers, and were just preparing to leave, we found a man lying by the railroad tracks.”
“That was the explorer?” Benton asked.
“Yes.” Lanmere nodded. “He was heavily injured. He had noticed the lights from our side of the tracks and tried to come over for help, but he passed out.
“If the rainwater hadn’t washed his blood right to our feet, he probably would have died there silently. Although… the outcome seemed to be the same regardless.”
Lanmere sighed.
Emmanuel then asked, “Did he say where he sustained those injuries?”
“Was it not mentioned in the travelogue?” Lanmere asked.
Emmanuel shook his head. “At the very end of the travelogue, he only mentioned that he was preparing to venture into an unexplored region… but there are no details about the expedition itself, nor how he left.”
Siles listened in silence, thinking to himself: Was that final expedition location the “Non-existent City”? If it was, how did the explorer escape? Or perhaps, was it somewhere else entirely?
“Is that so,” Lanmere said. “I thought he would have written that experience into his journal. However, I don’t know much either. Like I said, his Konstian wasn’t very good, so I didn’t understand a lot of what he said.”
Emmanuel revealed a look of disappointment.
Lanmere said with uncertainty, “He said… he said that in that place, he encountered a lot of… er, statues?”
Statues. This keyword instantly pulled all of Siles’s attention into sharp focus.
“Statues?” Emmanuel also seemed highly interested in this word. “Statues of what?”
“…Humans. Probably,” Lanmere said. “But he didn’t elaborate. He seemed absolutely terrified of that place. Even though he had escaped, he would still wake up screaming from nightmares all night, unable to sleep.
“…Perhaps that was exactly why his injuries worsened, ultimately leading to his unfortunate passing.”
“What about his companions?” Emmanuel still seemed unwilling to let it go.
Lanmere said, “His companions… it seems they all died.”
Siles discreetly glanced at Emmanuel and, as expected, saw his trembling lips and dark, heavy gaze. Clearly, the explorer’s fate reminded Emmanuel of his own past experiences.
Emmanuel remained silent.
Unfazed, Lanmere continued, “We stayed together for about three or four days. Because his injuries were so severe, we could only settle him near the mining vein and find a doctor to treat him.
“Every day when I went to the mine, I would chat with him for a bit. His mental state seemed to be deteriorating by the day, and later on, he spoke less and less.
“He said he was from the Duchy of Kansas. He had been in the Emberlands for nearly ten years and hadn’t been back to his hometown much. So he hoped that after he died, I could hand his ashes over to someone from Kansas—a request I fulfilled.
“Besides that, he also talked a bit about his adventures in the Emberlands.”
This sentence made Emmanuel’s eyes suddenly light up. “What did he say?”
Lanmere shook his head. “I understand your curiosity—but his words were fragmented, sometimes sounding more like the ravings of a dream. He did mention some… experiences, but they were just a jumble of keywords and pained murmurs.
“Let me think… things like, statues, the deaths of his companions, gloomy skies, shadows… oh, and mud, seawater, things like that.”
“Seawater?” Hearing this, Benton asked in confusion. “I know a bit about the Emberlands myself. But has an ocean ever been discovered in the Emberlands?”
Lanmere shook his head.
An ocean had never been discovered in the Emberlands—no, more accurately, the oceans of this world were still entirely shrouded in fog.
Emmanuel said absentmindedly, “There is a country… situated even further beyond the Duchy of Kansas. That country borders the sea… Let me think. I believe it’s called Middleton?”
“Oh, how rare!” Lanmere nodded repeatedly, looking extremely interested in this country. Naturally, a coastal nation—one could easily imagine—would be vastly different from a completely landlocked nation like the Duchy of Konst.
Commodities, specialty products, customs… in other words, it meant business opportunities.
A great merchant like Lanmere would of course be highly intrigued.
Lanmere said, “Just this one piece of information from you is worth countless years of my travels.”
Emmanuel let out a low, hoarse chuckle. He said, “That is only because I hail from the Duchy of Kansas. Our country has had some contact with Middleton in the past. Not very close contact, mind you.
“As a folklorist, I once participated in such contacts and learned some information about them.”
“Could you tell us a bit more about that country?” Lanmere asked curiously.
Emmanuel hesitated for a moment, but ultimately answered, “Of course. Middleton… that country seems to have a coastline covering more than half its borders, so it’s more like a peninsula.
“Its citizens are highly militaristic. They revere strength, possess decent seafaring technology, and have a developed fishing industry. I believe they are all worshippers of Amois, the God of Warriors and Pirates.”
“All of them?” Lanmere exclaimed. “But hasn’t Amois already fallen?”
“Indeed.” Emmanuel also looked a bit puzzled. “Perhaps it’s because the country borders the ocean? So, they have continuously preserved their faith in Amois.”
Lanmere sighed regretfully. “No wonder I’ve never heard of this country.”
The other three were all slightly taken aback.
Benton couldn’t help but ask, “What? Old friend, it seems you’re hiding something from me.”
“Ha, this is something many Konstian merchants who do business in the Emberlands know,” Lanmere explained. “The Duchy of Konst will not deal with any nation that harbors stubborn faiths in the old gods—at least, commercial trade is impossible.”
“There’s such a rule?” Benton asked in surprise.
“It seems to be due to certain events that occurred in the early Era of Mist, which made Konst maintain this policy ever since.” Lanmere didn’t seem to care much. “However, as the times progress, this habit will eventually fade away.
“After all, we still have to do business with the rest of the world. The development of the Emberlands is already on the agenda, and during the development process, interacting with other countries will be unavoidable.”
Benton looked enlightened.
Siles thought to himself: Events that occurred in the early Era of Mist—could that refer to when the fog dissipated, exposing the Duchy of Konst’s territory to the sight of other nations, which led to them being besieged?
From that perspective, which countries were the ones that besieged the Duchy of Konst back then?
Was Kansas one of them? Was Middleton? Or was it some other nations?
Siles also knew of a few other countries, but due to the obstruction of the fog and the lack of technological advancement, travel in this world—especially to other countries—was highly inconvenient.
A single trip could take ten days, half a month, or even longer.
This resulted in anyone other than merchants, diplomats, and the like knowing very little about other countries or the general landscape of the world.
The information Lanmere revealed inspired Siles.
The Withered Wasteland Development Plan was already in preparation. Once this plan was officially announced, it was highly likely the Duchy of Konst would abandon its old convention of refusing to deal with nations holding old god faiths.
Therefore, it would become much easier for residents of Konst to come into contact with people from other countries.
For Siles, this was good news. After all, he desperately wanted to uncover the true nature of this world and find a path back home.
At this point, Emmanuel said, “I don’t know too much else about Middleton either. A lot of the documentation is kept in the Duchy of Kansas. I’ve never seen any here in Konst.”
“That’s quite alright, Mr. Emmanuel,” Lanmere said. “You’ve already provided me with plenty of information.”
Emmanuel offered a small smile. “Likewise.”
However, Lanmere would probably never realize exactly what kind of information he had just provided to Emmanuel.
Simply from what Lanmere had just said, Siles could also deduce a few things. For example, the explorer ultimately appeared near the Stardust mining vein, and he was already heavily injured at the time.
It would have been impossible for him to walk very far in that condition. Therefore, his final expedition location was highly likely in the vicinity of that Stardust mine.
Emmanuel couldn’t directly ask for the exact location of the mine, but he could gather information from the Emberlands side—by seeking out the miners who once excavated the Stardust, and by tracing the route of that railway.
And then, there were the statues…
Hudedoka? Siles didn’t know if this was related to the followers of Hudedoka. After all, statues weren’t uncommon in this world. For instance, didn’t the central cathedral of the Church of the Past have a massive statue of Antinum in its nave?
Regardless, Emmanuel had already gained a vital clue. Siles thought.
He felt a deep sense of worry regarding Emmanuel’s palpable joy.
Lanmere continued, “As for that explorer, I’m afraid I can’t offer any more information. Right up until his death, I didn’t even know his name.”
“His name is Friedman,” Emmanuel said softly. “He wrote this name in his travelogue.”
Lanmere nodded slowly, taking the opportunity to turn to Benton. “So, old friend, I believe both this travelogue and Professor Noel’s novel can be published, yes?”
Benton nodded readily and said, “I am very optimistic about the prospects of both of these works. The travelogue can tie in with the Grand Duke’s Withered Wasteland Development Plan, if we’re in time. As for Professor Noel’s novel…”
Siles chimed in at the perfect moment, “I should be able to submit the manuscript within the next few days.”
Benton immediately replied, “Then we should see Professor Noel’s work in bookstores in just a week or two!”
Siles was slightly surprised. “That fast?”
Benton laughed and said, “What did you expect? These days, there aren’t that many works worth publishing. Besides, I believe your work holds that value. It’s… a breath of fresh air.”
“Thank you for your praise,” Siles said politely.
However, he didn’t actually think his novel was all that great. After all, the aesthetic tastes of the two worlds were vastly different.
Even though Siles had tried his best to adapt to this world’s style and historical backdrop, upon his own review, some contents of the novel were still slightly unorthodox.
Particularly the female lead, Miss Eleanor Gwynn’s liveliness, unpredictability, and curiosity, as well as her taking the initiative to confess her feelings to the male lead, Ludwig. This would probably make quite a few stubborn, conservative nobles jump in fury.
In short, Siles didn’t hold out much hope.
Afterward, they discussed the profit distribution for the book. The novel’s title was set as The Rose’s Revenge. The ‘Rose’ referred to Miss Gwynn, and the ‘Revenge’ referred to Ludwig. The name seemed a bit tacky, but Benton stated with absolute certainty that it would attract a lot of attention.
Siles remained highly skeptical.
The novel’s profits would be split in a very straightforward, even manner: 50/50 of the net profits post-publication between the publisher and the author. In theory, as the original author, Siles could have fought for a larger share of the profits.
But seeing as this was his first time working with Benton, and Benton had displayed such an eager and proactive attitude, Siles agreed to the equal split.
Extremely satisfied, Benton handed Siles a business card with the publishing house’s address on it, where Siles would need to mail the manuscript later.
He said, a bit eagerly, “Please make sure to submit the manuscript as early as possible. I’m dying to see the ending of this story! Will Miss Gwynn achieve her wish?”
Siles raised his eyes, gave him a look, and said noncommittally, “You’ll know when you see the ending.”
Benton paused, then couldn’t help but say, “You truly are a novelist.”
Siles offered a small smile.
Seeing that they had mostly wrapped up their discussion, Lanmere coughed and said, “Then, we should talk about the travelogue.” He turned to Emmanuel. “Mr. Emmanuel, when will you be able to finish the translation work?”
“Perhaps… in about another month,” Emmanuel said. “I still need to carefully refine some of the phrasing.”
Lanmere calculated the timeline and felt it would align perfectly with publishing right around the Day of the Gods’ Birth. Thrilled, he exclaimed, “That’s wonderful!”
Emmanuel offered a polite smile.
Lanmere continued, “As for the profits… here is my thought. We divide it equally into five portions: one-fifth goes to Professor Noel, two-fifths to the publishing house, and two-fifths to Mr. Emmanuel… What do you all think?”
The ownership rights of the travelogue belonged to Siles, but the publication and translation work had nothing to do with him. Profit distribution in this era was still primarily based on labor, and society widely considered translators to hold partial ownership over the translated text.
Emmanuel weighed the proposal for a moment, then looked at Siles. “I… wish to transfer my two-fifths profit share to Professor Noel.”
Siles was taken aback and couldn’t help but say, “You…”
“You know what I mean,” Emmanuel said resolutely, not even using the formal ‘you’.
Siles fell silent. Finally, he let out a soft sigh and said, “Sometimes, I wish you wouldn’t be so resolute.”
Emmanuel beamed and offered a small smile.
Lanmere and Benton didn’t seem to understand the exchange between the two. Lanmere even asked in surprise, “Are you sure? The publication of this travelogue… will likely earn quite a lot of money.”
“I do not need money right now,” Emmanuel said in a low voice. “And my future self… will probably not need it either.”
He was going to return to the Emberlands with the absolute resolve to die. Even if he survived, he would likely never return to this ordinary, mundane, and comfortable life again.
Lanmere didn’t understand what Emmanuel was about to do, so he simply assumed Emmanuel was extremely wealthy. Thus, he agreed: “Very well. A lawyer will draft the agreement for us later.”
He smiled and said, “A pleasure doing business.”
