“Respected Professor Siles Noel, we hope this letter finds you well.
“We are delighted to inform you that your paper, The Lost Songs of the Sardinian Empire: A Brief Analysis and Origin Tracing of the Wandering Poet Poetic Tradition, has received an ‘Outstanding’ rating. This is something highly worthy of celebration.
“Therefore, we solemnly invite you to attend this year’s School of Literature and History year-end meeting. The meeting will be held on Saturday, February 1st, in the morning, at the conference hall on the first floor of the main castle of Lamifa University.
“At this meeting, we will select the outstanding scholars and academic achievements of the past year, and look forward to the academic development path of the coming year.
“We look forward to your participation.
“School of Literature and History, Lamifa University, January 12, Year 401 of the Age of Mist.”
Siles looked at this letter with some surprise.
Professor Bright had mentioned the year-end meeting to him before. Naturally, as a young professor, Siles originally wouldn’t have needed to attend such a high-level meeting. However, his academic paper had earned him this honor ahead of time.
But compared to the honor, Siles was currently more interested in the bonus Professor Bright had mentioned. After all, he wanted to buy a house in Lamifa City.
…Siles suddenly felt an unprecedented sensation… the feeling of “having a family.”
This made him let out a helpless, low chuckle.
He put the letter away, killed some time in the office, and then went to teach his classes. After his morning classes ended, he went to the dining hall for lunch and coincidentally ran into Professor Bright.
“Siles!” Professor Bright called out to him.
Siles sat down across from Professor Bright.
Professor Bright said mysteriously, “Siles, I’m afraid you’ll receive two pieces of good news today. The first is the invitation to the year-end meeting, and the second is…” He paused, then said, “Guess?”
Siles considered for a moment, then asked, “Professor Mantel?”
“Oh, you really are sharp; that’s no fun,” Professor Bright said. “But yes, that old geezer has been suspended. Rumor has it he got into a huge argument with Dean Hirst.”
Siles was taken aback and asked, “Why?”
Professor Bright shrugged. “It seems it was about the visiting scholar trip during the spring break. He probably still didn’t want you to participate. I really don’t understand… why he would butt heads with you so intensely.”
Professor Bright sized Siles up with a puzzled look and added, “It’s not like that old fellow paid so much attention to you before the winter break.”
Siles thought to himself, perhaps it was because, before the winter break, someone in the upper echelons of the History Society didn’t know of Professor Mantel’s existence yet? Or perhaps Professor Mantel intended to secure a future for his nephew before retiring?
However, he didn’t intend to let Professor Bright know about this, lest the professor fly into a rage over it again. So he said, “Regardless, it seems this matter is resolved.”
Professor Bright nodded at this. He said, “I appreciate your rationality and calmness, Siles.”
Siles paused slightly, then smiled faintly.
He said, “Thank you for the compliment. By the way, I plan to buy a house in Lamifa City before the spring break, so I can move in once I return from the visiting scholar trip. If there are any houses for sale in your neighborhood, could you help keep an eye out for me?”
“Of course,” Professor Bright agreed immediately. “Are you finally planning to move out of that cramped little apartment on Hayward Street? If you ask me, aside from being close to the university, that place is utterly useless.”
Siles thought to himself that Hayward Street was indeed like that—but it was free.
If he bought a residence, the corresponding maintenance fees, cleaning fees, and so on would cause his daily expenses to skyrocket. However, Siles also had to admit that owning his own house would certainly be much more convenient.
“I’ll keep an eye out for you,” Professor Bright said. “There are quite a few projects going on in Lamifa City recently, so I expect some people will want to sell their houses to raise money for investments. That being the case, you might be able to buy a suitable house at a relatively low price. What is your budget?”
“Five thousand Duke coins,” Siles said.
Professor Bright nodded. “That’s enough to buy a good residence in the East District of Lamifa.”
“Then I’ll leave it in your hands,” Siles said sincerely. “By the way, how is your foot doing now?”
“Completely healed!” Professor Bright said. “Of course, I’m now paying very close attention to my daily movements; it can’t be helped.”
Siles nodded and said, “If I really manage to move near you, I can also help you out if you ever need anything.”
Professor Bright chuckled and said, “Thank you for your thoughtfulness, Siles. You can be more direct. I am, after all, an old geezer who has reached the age where ‘if something unexpected happens in life, I’ll need the help of young people.’ I’m happy to admit this. I’ve spent my entire life reading and teaching, learning countless things from the halls of literature. I believe I’ve reached the age where I can calmly face this reality—aging and death.”
Professor Bright’s words made Siles pause slightly, and then he let out a low sigh in his heart.
After lunch, Siles bid farewell to Professor Bright. He planned to return to 6 Hayward Street first to drop off some things, then head over to Chendo’s place—Chendo had gone to handle Praia family affairs at noon, so they didn’t eat lunch together. But they planned to spend the afternoon together.
Siles put his lesson plans and some documents back into the small study at 6 Hayward Street. Just as he was about to leave, the appearance of a postman stopped him in his tracks.
He took a thick envelope from the postman with some surprise, unsure for a moment where the letter might be from.
…At least it couldn’t be a letter from an editor pressing him for a manuscript, he thought calmly.
But then, because of this thought, he suddenly realized a problem. If he was going to Middleton as a visiting scholar during the spring break, didn’t that mean he had to submit his manuscripts for that period to the newspaper in advance?
Siles was troubled by this thought for a moment.
He went back up to his room on the third floor first and opened the letter. Then, he was surprised to realize that while it indeed wasn’t a letter pressing for a manuscript, it did come from an editor.
The editor of the Literary Review had found the manuscript of the paper Professor Cabel had previously submitted and sent it to Siles.
In the letter, the editor apologized to Siles. The paper was actually very easy to find, but they had been too busy around the turn of the year, so they hadn’t had the time to help with this favor. He hoped this paper would bring some help to Siles.
Siles also sincerely thanked the editor in his heart. He organized the pages of the paper—there were about a dozen sheets. It had likely been re-copied, so the handwriting style lacked Professor Cabel’s manic aura.
He couldn’t help but start reading. He became completely engrossed, not waking from it until Chendo’s arrival startled him.
“…Chendo?” Siles looked up in some surprise. “I was just about to head to Lowell Street.”
“Just about to?” Chendo looked at him suspiciously. “But it’s already past one o’clock.”
Siles then belatedly took out his pocket watch to check the time. He couldn’t help but say, “Sorry… I received Professor Cabel’s paper and started reading it, losing track of time.”
“It’s nothing.” Chendo affectionately leaned in and nuzzled Siles’s cheek. He said, “I thought you ran into some trouble, so I hurried over. It’s good that you’re fine. Is it the paper on the ‘shadow’?”
“Yes,” Siles said in a low voice. “I’m just about done reading it. You can take a look. Some of Professor Cabel’s viewpoints are…”
He weighed his words.
Finally, he said, “Surprising.”
Chendo was intrigued to hear this. He said with great interest, “If you say so, then I really must take a good look.”
He then spent some time reading the paper as well.
Siles figured it would take Chendo a while to finish, so he simply used the time to organize his two apprentices’ reading notes. The semester was nearing its end, and the two apprentices were already writing their thesis papers.
Siles didn’t know if it was due to his influence, but Dorothea ultimately didn’t choose a literary topic related to Atkinia again. Instead, she chose to study the shifts in narrative perspective in several classic novels from the Age of Silence.
The topic of Jules’s paper was a comparison of narrative perspectives between a certain novel from the Age of Mist and some novels from the Age of Silence. The two apprentices’ chosen topics shared quite a bit of common ground, and they had also discussed relevant knowledge and reference books with each other while writing.
The reading lists Siles provided them were almost identical, though there were occasional differences since the overall research directions of the two apprentices were distinct.
Dorothea seemed to have developed an interest in the literary topic of the relationship between “deities and believers,” while Jules had instead embarked on the path of “comparative literature.” They were both slowly finding their future goals.
By the time Siles had mostly finished reviewing his apprentices’ reading notes and recording relevant questions, Chendo had also just about finished reading Professor Cabel’s paper.
He straightened the stack of papers, thought for a moment, and then said, “It’s a bit… hard to describe.”
Siles nodded in agreement.
In Professor Cabel’s paper, he very clearly laid out his viewpoint: “The ‘shadow’ is a deity hidden behind the fog of history. He and His believers, despite having always existed, have never been recognized by anyone.
“It wasn’t until the fall of Elco kicked off the twilight of the gods in the Age of Silence, until the gods named a millennium even further back as ‘shadow’, that people suddenly realized the world had been shrouded by the ‘shadow.’
“But this secret ultimately remained hidden behind the name of this era, becoming a monumental lie known only to those who care to look, while ordinary people have no way of finding out.”
Although Professor Cabel’s attitude was very clear, it was hard to say exactly where he drew this conclusion from. Even within this paper, he remained evasive, not citing extensive sources, but simply stating his viewpoints.
From this paper, Siles could discern Professor Cabel’s multifaceted views on the “shadow.”
First, he believed the “shadow” was a deity and that this deity had appeared long before the Age of Shadows. The reason people didn’t know of His existence was that, just as the word “shadow” described, He had always hidden in the dark shadows.
However, Professor Cabel also added that this was a completely different concept from Hoodoka’s Divine Title, the “Shadow Side of the World.” The “shadow” was merely a certain description—or metaphor—for this deity, not His Divine Title, domain, or Divine Name.
Second, he believed the “shadow” was the enemy of many Old Gods, but also that many Old Gods did not know of the “shadow’s” existence. This intricate and complex web of relationships also made the situation of the Old Gods from the Age of Shadows onward even more confusing and obscure.
On this point, Professor Cabel slightly hinted at the reason he reached this conclusion: “Just look at the timelines of the Old Gods’ falls and you’ll know!”
Third, the “shadow” very likely used methods like devouring, gnawing, and covering to seize the powers of the Old Gods, which made Him increasingly powerful. During the Age of Shadows, a war of the gods very likely occurred. The so-called “catastrophe” of the Age of Shadows was also caused by this divine war.
Regarding the “war of the gods,” Professor Cabel provided slightly more serious explanations. He didn’t believe the divine war was limited only to battles between deities.
To be precise, the divine war did indeed occur between deities, but of course, it would also spill over to humans, and many human warriors must have participated in this protracted war.
Aside from these three points, the second half of Professor Cabel’s paper essentially expounded on a single viewpoint.
Which was: the “shadow” had never disappeared.
This concept perfectly coincided with what Detective Jon had said earlier. They all believed that someone was still secretly carrying out a conspiracy.
In fact, this viewpoint proved that the person with a very deep understanding of the “shadow” mentioned by the group of eccentric individuals Jon had encountered was indeed Professor Cabel.
Siles was actually more interested in the content of the second half, given that he already knew the “shadow” existed.
Professor Cabel himself did not come from an official organization; he hadn’t even truly become a Revelator. But through various hidden channels—such as secret organizations, small gatherings, antique enthusiast meetups, and the like—he had extracted all sorts of hearsay and rumors.
He consolidated and sorted this information, arranging it chronologically.
Then he discovered that, at least within the Duchy of Konst, many cases involving believers of Lusmi ultimately went unresolved.
This “involvement” included relics found at crime scenes, rumors of certain faiths passed by word of mouth, introductions and speculations in print media like manuscripts and news reports, and investigations by private detectives into certain cases.
In short, Professor Cabel listed several fairly typical cases in his paper.
For example, unidentified corpses appearing in the exact same spot at sunrise and sunset; strange victims who bled from their eyes and still held a telescope in their hands; cross-dressing men who dressed up as women, specifically as female knights.
Regarding that last group, Professor Cabel specifically noted that he had seen the relevant news in a very old newspaper. The reason he included it was because those cross-dressing men all had marigolds carved into their breastplates.
“And any fortunate reader of this paper who knows the meaning of the marigold will naturally understand what the appearance of these people implies,” Professor Cabel wrote rather mysteriously in the paper.
…No wonder this paper was denounced by that journal editor as the “bizarre ravings of a madman.”
However, to the current Siles, because he knew the meaning of the marigold, he could understand what Professor Cabel meant—the marigold was the symbol of Lusmi.
From this perspective…
Siles thought of a possible explanation. He said to Chendo, “You know how some secret organizations of Old God followers use symbols related to the Old Gods as proof of membership?”
For instance, believers of Brancani would display objects used to torture themselves, and within the Lamifa Chamber of Commerce, merchants who believed in Menavaca used a scale with one side dipped low as a symbol of their identity.
Perhaps the marigold symbolized an organization?
It was a gathering place for believers of Lusmi… No, according to Professor Cabel and what Jon had said earlier, it was an organization belonging to followers of the “shadow,” operating under the guise of Lusmi.
Could the Marigold Cup have been abandoned in that trash can by someone after joining that organization? If that was truly the case, then their speculations regarding the annihilation of the Darrow family would undergo an earth-shattering shift.
Perhaps the reason Brewer Darrow was killed with a single strike was just… just someone’s initiation ritual?
This thought made Siles freeze abruptly.
Chendo hadn’t thought that far ahead. He agreed with Siles’s idea and said, “Cabel said he saw it in a very old newspaper. That means this organization has probably existed for a long time. But… female knights?”
He said, a little confused, “Why female knights?”
The concept of a female knight wasn’t unfamiliar to the people of the Fisher World.
There were indeed women who chose to become knights, fighting for their lords or their gods. Such a thing might not be very common, but even ordinary people could speak knowledgeably about it when the topic came up, mentioning famous female knights from history.
For deities, human gender didn’t affect faith. There were also many records in history of deities having female proxies; this wasn’t considered a rarity.
But why would this group of Old God followers specifically dress up as female knights?
No, he should say…
Did female identity characteristics hold a special significance within this secret group?
Siles thought for a moment, then shook his head. He said, “Perhaps Lusmi simply had a female proxy in the past, or they believed Lusmi was a deity leaning towards feminine traits. Or maybe this group of people were simply cross-dressers?”
Just as the believers of Brancani had strayed off the path over the long stretch of time, perhaps the believers of Lusmi were the same.
Chendo nodded in agreement. He straightened the paper, set it aside, and said, “This seems to be yet another incident.”
“Yes,” Siles said in a low voice.
“…Your life is always filled with the concepts of these deities,” Chendo said, a bit troubled. “I never imagined you would come into contact with so many secrets about the past. Sometimes this brings certain benefits—like that rose. I must say, since getting that rose, I have indeed felt my sleep quality improve significantly.”
“But more often, I feel that your life is disturbed by these complex and obscure things.”
Siles also agreed with this statement. However, considering that he was constantly searching for the world’s hidden secrets, he could only blame himself for this hectic situation.
He lowered his eyes in thought for a moment, and finally smiled faintly, simply saying, “Perhaps this can also be considered one of life’s pleasures.”
To peel back the layers amidst bizarre puzzles, chaotic information, and complex situations, and finally find the answer hidden in the corner, bringing the truth to light. He had to admit that this was something that brought him joy.
It was Tuesday afternoon. He read a book from Kansas together with Chendo again, and then they went to have dinner. Life didn’t undergo any changes because of the puzzles he was researching; it continued exactly as before.
On Wednesday, Siles received another letter, this time from the History Society. It was also an invitation. The content was exactly what Grenfield had mentioned: the History Society’s commendation ceremony.
To his surprise, just like the School of Literature and History’s year-end meeting, the date for the History Society’s commendation ceremony was also February 1st, only the time was scheduled for the afternoon. This meant that February 1st was likely to be a very busy day for him.
On Thursday, when meeting with his apprentices, Siles received some not-so-good news.
Dorothea apologetically told him that she originally wanted to borrow her family’s collection of books regarding the God of Death and Disaster, Thaddeus, for him, but her grandfather, Adolphus Grant, had refused the request.
When Dorothea mentioned this, she looked very embarrassed, even a bit ashamed. She probably hadn’t expected her grandfather to refuse, considering it was a request from a scholar.
Siles was also somewhat surprised, but he quickly said, “It’s nothing, Dorothea; don’t take it to heart. I just had a sudden whim to learn some information about Thaddeus.”
This reassurance allowed Dorothea to breathe a sigh of relief.
However, this matter did indeed make Siles feel a bit strange. Adolphus Grant’s indisputable attitude seemed somewhat like a guilty conscience—could the Grant family really be connected to Thaddeus?
And that also seemed to hint that other elders familiar with Adolphus Grant, including the bibliophile Professor Calverley and the painter Alden Bridges, could all potentially be followers of Thaddeus.
…But, did this group of people embark on a completely different path from Jonathan Bryant after Thaddeus fell?
Did these believers of Thaddeus completely fracture after the deity’s fall?
This day was January 15th; exactly half of January had passed. That night, while reading Volume Eleven of Conan Fremont’s A Lifetime, Siles found the answer to this question within the pages of this work from the distant Age of Silence.
“…”
“I believe death is divided into two scenarios—before explaining these two scenarios, I must first clarify that my classification is merely the ramblings of an old man. Readers must not mistake my words for golden rules.
“No one can assert what this world is like, and no one can assert how this world will develop. If there truly is a god of fate in this world, then I would prefer Him to be tolerant, merciful, peaceful, or perhaps, ‘indifferent’ in the absolute sense.
“In short, I believe death falls into two categories: the foreseeable and the unforeseeable.
“Oh, my dear readers, you will surely say: isn’t that stating the obvious? Indeed it is, but I only realized later that death can sometimes bring about two… diametrically opposed meanings.
“Having lived long enough, one becomes weary, and family and friends become weary too; or having been ill for many years, suffering terribly, hovering between life and death but still lingering in this world; in short, reaching a certain stage where ‘it wouldn’t be surprising if they died.’
“Having not lived long at all—children, young people, those in their prime—no one expects death to suddenly descend upon them; accidents, disasters, diseases, misfortune, striking abruptly, taking away lives that should have been vibrant; in short, it’s like a bolt from the blue.
“The death of a stranger is like a statistic. Every single day, such things are happening.
“…So, which category should I attribute my god’s death to?
“Catching one off guard? Indeed it did. However, the concept that ‘deities can actually die too’ suddenly made me realize something, feeling a belated sense of… er, intimacy?
“If the devout believers of my god heard this, they would definitely curse me as a blasphemer. But for me, that wasn’t the case, even though I know many would feel a sense of shattering because of it.
“I don’t know if deities experience birth, aging, illness, and death; I don’t know if deities need to eat, drink, and relieve themselves; I don’t know if deities also worry about daily necessities. These questions occasionally troubled me a little.
“I felt I was an incredibly arrogant human being, superimposing the superficialities of my own life onto the gods, thinking those deities would have the same worries as an ordinary human like me.
“But… death.
“Everyone must experience death, and the most wondrous point is that even deities must experience death.
“I heard that some people have already started calling these fallen deities ‘Old Gods’. That is truly an incredibly marvelous title, making me think back to the other day when I was organizing my home library and found a book I was obsessed with in my childhood.
“I was rather naughty in my youth, so sometimes my parents’ discipline would be very strict, and they would confiscate the books I liked. So I hid that book under a heavy cabinet, figuring no one would ever find it.
“Later, even I forgot about the existence of this book.
“However, when I picked this book back up from the dust of time, wiped clean its dusty cover, and saw those yellowed, slightly wrinkled pages… that feeling was more like I was wiping off my own life.
“Old books. Old Gods. Buried within all old things is, ultimately, one’s old self.
“…Therefore, I can understand the behavior of the most loyal believers after my god fell. They are not like me; I am naturally arrogant and smug, acting as if the world truly revolves around me.
“Those believers, their lives were synonymous with my god. When my god fell, their lives suddenly shattered. They looked around, but saw nothing but emptiness—they had spent a lifetime, only for everything to come to nothing in the end.
“They thought they would return to the embrace of my god after they died, but ‘death’ itself had already died.
“As far as I know, some believers managed to recover their senses. Whether it counts as self-deception or not, they were indeed telling themselves that this meant my god was also waiting for them at the end of death.
“What a comforting thought this is. Just as I said before, humans will die, and deities will die; the originally vast distance was thus closed.
“…Alright, some believers might not need this sense of shattering (intimacy).
“However, this also means that this latter group of believers was somewhat unfortunate. It is hard for me to say whether this approach… preferring to trap themselves in painful delusions rather than change their own thoughts and concepts, can be considered bringing it upon themselves.
“Regardless, they embarked on a different path.
“If you are willing to believe me, then I would like to express my viewpoint here. I believe that death actually means two things: life and death.”
Seeing this, Siles couldn’t help but pause.
He raised his head temporarily, took off his glasses, and pinched the bridge of his nose to pull himself out of the gloomy atmosphere Fremont had created. He pondered the information revealed in this passage.
After Thaddeus fell, His believers did indeed fracture.
One group believed that the fall of Thaddeus meant that “death” had also accepted its own death. He would be waiting at the end of death for the believers’ arrival.
It was hard to say whether this was a self-deceptive thought. Siles agreed with Fremont’s viewpoint on this point.
And the thoughts Dorothea had previously relayed from the Grant family’s book collection perfectly matched the thoughts of this group of people. In other words, the Grant family was very likely the descendants of this group of Thaddeus believers.
They seemed to still uphold the original concept—to make their lives more valuable, to make their deaths more sensational, so they could demonstrate their valuation of death to Thaddeus.
Thus, they continued to appreciate art and search for the value of life, with some even trying to become important figures so their deaths would receive more attention.
…Purely based on their actions, Siles felt this group could even be considered harmless. Their greatest pursuit was simply to die a “worthy death.”
Siles had once received a manuscript from the Praia family, recording some states of the believers of Thaddeus and Personari during the August Empire.
The believers of these two deities universally agreed that human life should have value—the former because there is no death without life, the latter because of life itself.
And now, Fremont mentioning that he believed “death actually means two things,” reminded Siles of the ideological differences between the believers of life and death.
Combined with Jonathan Bryant’s previously observed fear of death and attachment to life, some thoughts couldn’t help but form in Siles’s mind.
He continued reading Fremont’s words.
“No matter how much the believers of death (excluding a believer of death like me, of course) deny this, for humanity in the general sense, they will certainly acknowledge that a creature can only die after having lived.
“That is to say, life is a necessary journey toward death.
“Therefore, after ‘death’ also died, the understanding of death among a portion of my god’s believers underwent a subtle shift. When you are just one step away from death, do you look forward, or do you look backward?
“Some choose to look forward. Because death is already close at hand, everything of the past can be cast aside. Towards the very end, human life is ever more a lonely journey, where only oneself can be a companion.
“So, this group of people—this group of believers—they pursue a death without looking back.
“And some choose to look backward. They turn their heads back eventually, unavoidably. Because life is life, after all, and death is death. No one can help but feel confused about the world after death, and no one can help but fear such confusion.
“Therefore, they do not want to die. They turn their gaze toward life. And they can also give themselves a justified reason: because ‘death’ has already died, who will receive their deaths? They must keep themselves alive, hoping that ‘death’ will one day ultimately resurrect.
“Does this idea seem ridiculous? Seemingly not. But when they think this way, the relationship between deity and believer is inverted. The right to interpret the ‘deity’ falls into the hands of the believers.
“Because the deity is dead, the believers are frantically researching possible future directions for themselves.
“Deities—the power of the deities—became at this time a concept that could be deconstructed, dismantled, and annotated. And with the fall of the deities, this was, after all, inevitable.
“…This is the Age of Silence. The fall of the gods seemed to have begun in distant ages, but after such distant ages, people still hadn’t been able to derive an answer from it.
“Many people haven’t even realized the problem yet.
“Which is, when the gods fall, where should we—we humans—go?”
Siles’s gaze silently fixed on the question mark of that final question. He recognized the confusion that had arisen in Fremont’s heart, a confusion that had also once troubled Siles when he realized the current state of this world.
And he also knew that the answer to this question was likely not something that could be reached overnight.
He sighed softly under the dim light of the desk’s wall lamp. He looked out at the tranquil night. The cold of the winter night caused a misty condensation to form on the window, hazily enveloping the city outside, and this world was indeed enveloped in such a mist.
In this instant, Siles felt as if he had touched the essence of this world, or perhaps, it was just an illusion produced during his late-night contemplation.
He sat silently for a moment before slowly shaking off these thoughts.
He refocused his mind on the current situation.
From Fremont’s book, it could be seen that after Thaddeus fell—that is, during the late Age of Silence—His believers had fractured. One portion of the believers continued walking down the old path—and they still existed in obscurity today.
Judging from Dorothea’s behavior, she herself didn’t seem to know the potential underlying nature of her family’s faith. This matter might only be passed down when she grew old, or when Adolphus was nearing death.
This group of people, to some extent, could be considered to have deviated from their faith in Thaddeus. They disguised themselves as believers of Atkinia, the God of Music and Art, perhaps because this identity was more harmless, and this facade seemed quite convincing.
Siles couldn’t easily judge their actions, but regardless, these people at least weren’t doing anything evil.
But the other group, to some extent, should be said to have “betrayed” their former faith in Thaddeus. At least in action, they “converted” to Personari, even if they themselves were unwilling to admit it.
They began to fear death and became greedy for life. Fearing death and clinging to life was naturally human nature, Siles thought so, but self-deception was not a good approach.
And judging from Jonathan Bryant’s actions, this fear of death and greed for life had probably developed into a terrifying obsession.
He believed that only by staying alive could he practice the intent of death. His concepts had imperceptibly become twisted and extreme, and he hadn’t even realized it himself, even hating it when others pointed it out.
This made Siles feel a slight sense of lamentation.
This lamentation was based on life and death themselves. Regardless, Siles could not agree with Jonathan’s viewpoint, and especially could not accept the actions Jonathan chose in order to evade death.
This is a tough winter, Siles thought.
If Jonathan really planned to do something, he would very likely act this winter. Welcoming a spring day of blooming flowers with a brand-new life sounded like a wonderful thing.
But beneath that throne of life, the foundation might be built upon the corpses of young children.
He needed to find a breakthrough. This thought was clearer than ever before.
Siles fell into deep thought. He reviewed the entire matter in his mind, from the museum gatekeeper’s theft incident to the encounter with Mr. and Mrs. Lampson on the Light of First Snow train, to the various rumors about Darwin Hospital, to the conversation with Nona in the dream…
He wrote down name after name related to this matter in his notebook.
Then, when writing a specific name, he suddenly paused.
Emil Harrison.
He froze for a moment, pondering why one of the two saplings from the deep-sea dreams had subconsciously appeared in his mind. In fact, Emil had no direct connection to this matter, did he?
Even though Emil was indeed a young child he had recently come into contact with, even though Emil indeed appeared while Siles was investigating this incident, even though Emil’s grandfather Alden Bridges was highly likely a believer of death…
Wait.
Siles’s train of thought suddenly stopped here.
When he thought of Alden Bridges, he suddenly recalled something Emil had casually complained about when they spoke, back when he was acting in his capacity as the literary history professor, “Siles Noel”.
Emil had said he didn’t dare let Alden know about the existence of that Rubik’s Cube, because Alden wouldn’t let him touch such bizarre things.
Siles carefully pondered this sentence, his brow furrowing slightly.
The meaning of this sentence sounded a lot like keeping young children away from out-of-control Time Traces. This was also Siles’s instinctive thought at the time.
But, if one considered Alden’s potential identity as a believer of death, and the fact that the source of the “mental illness” afflicting those other children was precisely their contact with objects of unknown origin…
…Could the reason Alden kept Emil from touching strange objects be because he knew, or at least had heard of, Jonathan Bryant’s evil plan?
In fact, both being believers of death and upper-class figures in the Duchy of Konst, they should have dealt with each other. Siles had never considered this possibility before.
Perhaps it was because Jonathan Bryant’s actions had basically nothing to do with painters, artists, or collectors.
Regardless, Siles thought to himself, he could probably ask Dorothea for the Bridges family’s address, and then write a letter to Emil asking if a visit was possible.
How about using the latest sample product from the “Toy Store” as an excuse for a test play?
