Chapter 125: Commendation Ceremony
“Good afternoon, Professor.”
Ms. Aston found Siles in the conference hall where the commendation ceremony was being held.
Siles was standing by the window, wondering why Atherton Central Square was visible from this room. The space behind the door at the History Society was an unbelievable place, and nothing in his knowledge so far offered a theory to explain it.
Ms. Aston’s greeting brought Siles back to his senses. He smiled slightly and said, “Good afternoon, Ms. Aston.”
Even after becoming the director of the Research Department, Bernita Aston was more accustomed to being addressed as “Ms. Aston” rather than “Director”. She had indeed brought a new atmosphere to the Research Department.
In any case, Siles’s Replicating the Self ritual, combined with Ms. Aston’s soul strength measurements, had made the researchers in the department a bit more rational and calm. Some overly crazy and extreme topics had been canceled, which Siles had heard about. He considered this a good thing.
The Replicating the Self ritual, heavily promoted by Ms. Aston, had already swept through the History Society and even among the Revelators of Lamifa City. The Church of the Past had likely also contributed to the promotion of this ritual.
For Siles, his life wasn’t much affected, aside from occasionally encountering grateful Revelators who explicitly expressed their thanks while he was at the History Society.
It should be said that although the promotion of the Replicating the Self ritual was in full swing, its inventor was unexpectedly low-key. Many Revelators, even if they knew the name Siles Noel, had never actually met him in person.
“I must congratulate you in advance, Professor,” Ms. Aston said. “The Replicating the Self ritual has won you this honor.”
“I am very glad I could help those Revelators,” Siles replied. “When I first stepped onto the path of a Revelator, I encountered similar dangers. I hope people can master this power under safer conditions.”
“I share your view,” Ms. Aston said.
They looked at the other people in the conference hall. From Siles’s perspective at that moment, all these people bore the same wondrous blue glow, the symbol of their identity as Revelators.
Although these people might have various identities in the outside world—merchants, students, workers, nobles, officials—here, they only had one identity: Revelator.
Siles zoned out for a moment, then said, “I think, at least, people are indeed doing something with this power.”
Ms. Aston also nodded, saying, “Power can bring disaster, but it can also bring help.” She paused, then changed the subject, “How is the progress of your recent project?”
She was, of course, referring to the sealed artifacts project.
Siles said, “There hasn’t been any progress.”
“You previously mentioned wanting to communicate with the sealed artifacts,” Ms. Aston said. “Have you made any new discoveries regarding this?”
“I believe the sealed artifacts are missing a certain… element,” Siles chose his words carefully. “This element is the foundation for communicating with them. But I don’t know how to supplement this element.”
“…Element,” Ms. Aston murmured softly. “I still remember the three-element theory you proposed, even though people in the History Society turn a blind eye to it.”
Siles was slightly taken aback.
Ms. Aston asked more frankly, “What element do you think the sealed artifacts are missing?”
“Will,” Siles answered equally frankly.
Ms. Aston thought for a moment and couldn’t help but smile. “To make those objects possess ‘Will’ is indeed a difficult task.”
Siles also smiled helplessly.
Ms. Aston then said, “You don’t need to rush. The sealed artifacts project is just a transition. Once the Replicating the Self ritual has been promoted to a certain stage, perhaps you should also return to researching the issue of spiritual pollution, rather than wasting time on sealed artifacts.”
Siles neither agreed nor disagreed; he merely said, “I still feel that I know very little about many issues.”
Ms. Aston was slightly taken aback, then asked somewhat puzzledly, “For example?”
“For example…” Siles thought for a moment, “the place we are currently in?”
“Oh, you mean the space behind the door at the History Society?” Ms. Aston was a bit surprised. She said, “As far as I know, that was created by President Morton.”
Siles nodded; he also knew this.
Joseph Morton, Vice President of the History Society, was also the person in charge of the Revelators’ side. He was also Grenfield’s former teacher. However, they had a falling out fourteen years ago, and as a result, the once promising Grenfield became an idle person within the History Society.
Judging by Grenfield’s various achievements, whether it was biological projection or the promotion of introductory rituals for Revelators, he had once been a crucial mainstay of the History Society. Now, however, he stayed in an antique bookstore in the West District, quietly conducting research with an uncertain future.
This stark difference in treatment clearly stemmed from the dispute fourteen years ago.
Siles’s gaze looked forward. There, at the front of the spacious conference hall, Joseph Morton had already appeared.
This was the first time Siles had seen Joseph Morton. This President Morton was always elusive, rarely appearing within the History Society.
He looked like an elderly man, around sixty years old, with a head full of white hair, yet he was still hale, hearty, and energetic. He was greeting some people, including high-ranking figures from the Elders’ Council or other corridors.
Siles also spotted Jonathan Bryant. Compared to the distant view at the New Year’s Eve celebration, Siles could see much more clearly this time. He was indeed an old man nearing his end; despite wearing a formal suit, it could not hide the essence of his emaciated body.
He inevitably hunched his back and occasionally coughed. Compared to their last meeting, Siles felt that Jonathan had become even weaker and older.
Suddenly, Jonathan seemed to notice Siles’s gaze. He abruptly shifted his line of sight, his needle-like gaze locking onto Siles.
Siles belatedly realized that if Jonathan was the Elder who had been targeting him within the History Society, then they could now be said to be enemies meeting face-to-face.
He didn’t retract his gaze, his eyes still coldly and calmly watching the old man. They stared fixedly at each other for a moment before each retracted their gaze. Siles felt a subtle premonition.
He thought, perhaps Jonathan would come to speak with him in a bit.
Ms. Aston didn’t notice the brief confrontation between Siles and Jonathan. She said, “President Morton is a very outstanding Revelator. It is said that he came from a humble background but possessed a unique talent on the path of a Revelator, so he was appreciated by the previous president and quickly rose through the ranks.”
Siles nodded. He had also heard some rumors about President Morton’s rise to power from different channels. Of course, these rumors were all related to his younger days.
When he truly became “President Morton,” many things instead became hidden within a deeper silence.
Siles’s greatest confusion regarding Joseph Morton lay in his falling out with Grenfield fourteen years ago. In a sense, this confusion also included his falling out with the Dawn Revelation Society and Mr. Xia.
What exactly happened fourteen years ago to cause such a complex situation? Furthermore, this “complexity” still existed today.
Ebenezer Konst, the elder brother of the current Grand Duke. Fourteen years ago, he became involved with Old God followers from a foreign country, was consequently stripped of his inheritance rights, and went into exile abroad.
From the perspective of the Duchy and from the perspective of Revelators, this matter likely held entirely different meanings, and this was true for different people as well. Yet, there was someone who was pivotal and maintained a stance on both sides simultaneously.
This situation left Siles feeling like he had nowhere to begin.
Ms. Aston checked the time and then said, “The ceremony is about to start. We should take our seats.” She smiled slightly and added, “You will find this ceremony to be quite unexpected.”
Siles nodded and followed her. However, a subtle confusion arose in his heart: ceremony?
Was Ms. Aston referring to the commendation ceremony, or… a ceremony in another sense?
Before long, Siles learned the answer to this question.
At the front of the spacious conference hall was a stage similar to the one at the front of the salon space. The host’s speech, President Morton’s presentation of awards and commendations, and even the applause and cheers from the audience all carried a very rigid flavor, as if strictly adhering to certain rules and creeds.
…The History Society’s commendation ceremony was essentially a large-scale ritual for Revelators.
Siles could see that as the ceremony progressed, countless blue radiances flowed into the high ceiling and walls of the space behind the door. And when a Revelator went on stage to receive an award, that blue radiance would slowly form a semi-transparent blue bubble, which then enveloped the Revelator’s head.
It was a very wondrous scene, looking dreamlike yet evoking a strange coldness. Because it seemed no one realized that this was a large-scale ritual.
What was the purpose of this ritual?
When it was Siles’s turn to receive an award, he watched with his own eyes as the blue bubble enveloped him. He tried hard to suppress his feelings of discomfort, maintaining his composure, until the dice prompted him in his mind.
[Will +1 (Continuous).]
Siles was slightly taken aback, a trace of astonishment flashing quickly through his eyes.
Will? The blue bubble in this ritual was to increase Will?
And one point of Will that takes effect continuously? Under what circumstances would this one point of Will become ineffective?
…Until next year’s History Society commendation ceremony?
Thinking of this, Siles suddenly understood a little.
The so-called commendation ceremony, from the perspective of an ordinary person, was just holding a meeting and giving out public commendations, but for Revelators, the situation might not be that simple.
A commendation ceremony held year after year truly became a “ritual,” a special large-scale ritual imbued with the power of Revelators. And the purpose of this ritual naturally couldn’t be just to provide these prizes.
Recalling Ms. Aston’s meaningful words just now, Siles felt even more pensive.
However, if according to his understanding of the Will attribute, the source of this continuously effective Will…
It was very likely Antinam?
He was slightly taken aback, suddenly realizing that this so-called commendation ceremony was, in a sense, more like the deity’s… feedback to His “believers”?
Because of the results of these people’s development and research into the power path of Revelators?
Siles couldn’t help but narrow his eyes. He temporarily put aside these fleeting thoughts, calmly and evenly read his prepared acceptance speech, and then stepped down from the stage with his prize—as expected, a Time Trace.
Of course, he still wasn’t sure exactly what this Time Trace was. It was packaged up and placed in a delicate box. According to the host’s prompt just now, the relevant usage instructions were inside.
Siles was actually quite interested in exactly what Time Trace the Elders’ Council had chosen.
Overall, the process of the commendation ceremony was very fast, even faster than the year-end meeting at Lamifa University in the morning. It took only about half an hour for all the commended Revelators to complete this wondrous commendation “ritual”.
Afterward, they chatted with each other in the conference hall for a while, which was considered a part of daily socializing. Siles also inevitably got involved, having conversations with several high-ranking figures, and he also encountered Elder David Coffin, with whom he had interacted before.
Siles also had his first interaction with Joseph Morton.
Morton seemed to have known of Siles’s existence for a long time. He spoke with Siles peacefully for a few sentences, not delving deeply into Siles’s theories and projects, but merely praising Siles regarding the “Replicating the Self” ritual.
His smile was gentle, his expression calm, as if he was completely unaware of the teacher-student relationship between Grenfield and Siles. Of course, Siles was skeptical about this.
Siles also chatted for a few sentences with several other commended Revelators. Most of them were Revelators from the Second Corridor, including Clarissa Bernie, whom Siles had contacted before; the young lady was as shy as ever.
In contrast, Siles received the warmest welcome because of the Replicating the Self ritual. Many Revelators even bluntly stated that this ritual had saved them, which garnered Siles a lot of goodwill.
Even so, when Siles was about to leave, an unfriendly voice called out to him.
“Are you Siles Noel?”
Siles’s footsteps paused. He turned back and looked over, unsurprisingly discovering that it was Jonathan Bryant. Siles had already reached the entrance of the conference hall, and everyone else was chatting inside; no one noticed the confrontation between the two of them in the corner.
“Yes, Mr. Bryant,” Siles said coldly. “I am Siles Noel. Can I help you with something?”
Jonathan looked at Siles with a very arrogant attitude. Due to old age, his body seemed to have shrunk, appearing somewhat short, yet even so, the gaze he cast over seemed to carry an innate condescension.
He said, “I have long heard of your name, and that… ridiculous theory of yours.”
“You consider that ridiculous?” Siles said in a low voice. “And in your view, what would be considered not ridiculous?”
Jonathan narrowed his eyes.
Siles said, “Humans just groveling before the gods, forever acting as believers?”
“Is that a bad thing?” Jonathan said coldly. “Humans ought to be like this.”
Siles said calmly, “But the deities have already fallen.”
Jonathan suddenly took a heavy breath because of his words. He said, “No one can assert that the deities cannot resurrect.”
A faint smile appeared on Siles’s face, and he said, “Mr. Bryant, although our viewpoints are not the same, I agree with your thought to some extent—no one can assert that a deity can resurrect, either.”
An almost ferocious expression appeared on Jonathan’s aged and frail face. Finally, his fingers twitched slightly, as if he wanted to make a move, but he ultimately held back.
He said, “I know you are an audacious fellow. My subordinate once told me so. He tentatively asked me if I had sent someone else, and if I had obtained that baffling notebook of yours…”
Siles was slightly taken aback, then dug this incident out from the corners of his memory.
Someone had once broken into his office, seemingly trying to give him a show of strength; Siles then claimed his notebook had been lost because of this, attempting to sow suspicion between the mastermind and those working for him. Now it seemed that the person sent was indeed dispatched by the old man in front of him, and Siles’s counterattack had indeed been effective.
Of course, in a sense, Siles didn’t consider this an effective counterattack. It could only be said that he was making his attitude and stance clear.
Jonathan sneered and said, “A very laughable little trick. If you had chosen to directly blow the matter up back then, I might have thought a bit higher of you.”
Siles pondered for a moment and finally said, “I do not need you to think highly of me. In fact, merely stating my viewpoint is sufficient. I did obtain some research results after that, didn’t I?”
Jonathan choked. He couldn’t deny the significance of the Replicating the Self ritual to Revelators, so he couldn’t help but frown.
He felt the young Revelator in front of him was entirely impervious. And that face always maintained a calm indifference, as if stopping to converse with him was merely based on an innate sense of etiquette.
Jonathan abruptly shook his head and said, “I just want to warn you, young man. Don’t think the world revolves around you. Fate might deal you a heavy blow when you least expect it.” A rather malicious smile appeared on his face. “Don’t regret it when the time comes.”
Siles looked at his face and, after a moment, said, “I originally thought your attitude would be more stubborn and unyielding.”
He stood there, silently staring at the old man.
Jonathan Bryant was already hunched over, needing to rely on a sturdy cane to walk steadily, and when he spoke, he was even somewhat inarticulate. His gaze carried a murky quality, looking over with an arrogant air that self-proclaimed youthfulness.
Siles suddenly smiled slightly and said, “I’m afraid you don’t have long to live. Even so, you still force yourself over here to warn me? Your faith in the deity can indeed be called devout.”
When he said this, he was actually thinking of Jonathan’s resurrection plan. He thought, Jonathan is about to die; he’s about to lose the lofty superiority of his identity and status. But precisely because of this, he chose to come over and warn Siles.
It was as if saying, “Our business isn’t finished; just you wait.”
Siles even couldn’t help but feel curious because of this—why was Jonathan Bryant so certain that he could resurrect in the body of a young child?
However, Siles’s words seemed to deal a heavy blow to Jonathan. Jonathan’s face became visibly ugly. He panted heavily and loudly rebuked, “Shut your mouth!”
His voice was so loud that the other Revelators not far away all heard it. Almost everyone looked over, while Jonathan, seemingly oblivious, glared viciously at Siles.
He said, “I am still… living… perfectly well! I will not die! It is impossible for me to die! Death is still very far from me!”
He shouted hoarsely, as if such a loud, resonant voice was meant to prove his health. But in reality, his body was completely leaning on his cane. His trembling hand gripped the cane tightly, the aged, wrinkled back of his hand looking like dried-up skin.
Siles silently watched this dying man, thinking of the dying vine on the isolated island in the deep-sea dreams.
Death. Death. He sighed softly in his heart.
“Everyone will die, even the deities are no exception,” Siles said calmly in a low voice. “How can you guarantee that you will never die? Besides, you have already enjoyed fame and power; your life has already been very valuable, hasn’t it?”
Siles subtly swapped a concept. Jonathan only said he wouldn’t die, but Siles was saying he would “never” die. He was trying to use this opportunity to make Jonathan reveal more information while under the control of agitated emotions.
In fact, Siles himself didn’t entirely agree with what he was saying. He didn’t think it was “natural and right” for people to die, nor did he believe that everyone should be calm and face death with equanimity. He himself would feel fear and resistance when facing death.
Clinging to life and fearing death is human nature. He could openly admit that he also possessed such instincts. However, he needed to provoke Jonathan at this moment, for the sake of those younger, tender lives.
He looked at Jonathan’s trembling hands. The ferocity and malice in Jonathan’s eyes only flashed for an instant.
Suddenly, Jonathan actually smiled instead. Siles was slightly taken aback by this unusual appearance. He couldn’t help but narrow his eyes, feeling puzzled by Jonathan’s sudden change in attitude.
Jonathan said, “I always have my methods… just as you said, I have money and power, and enough ability to keep myself alive. To live forever, perhaps. A person can always find a way out.”
Their voices had lowered, so the other Revelators also slowly retracted their curious, gossipy gazes and went back to discussing their previous topics. The buzzing sound of conversations also blurred Jonathan’s low voice somewhat.
“…There are many places in this world that we—or I should say, you—have never seen, many, many places,” Jonathan said. “Anyway, congratulations on your achievement, Siles Noel. I ought to congratulate you.”
He smiled maliciously, then gripped his cane and slowly walked away.
Siles did not stop him. His gaze thoughtfully watched Jonathan’s retreating back. He thought: Congratulations?
Carol walked over. He asked somewhat worriedly, “What happened? Did you get into an argument with that old geezer?”
Siles shook his head. He didn’t answer the question directly, but instead held up the box in his hand—the box containing the Time Trace awarded to him at the History Society’s commendation ceremony.
He asked, “Who selected this Time Trace?”
Carol was taken aback, completely not expecting Siles to ask this question. He hesitated for a while, thought for a moment, and then replied, “It should be one of the Elders in the Elders’ Council; it’s very hard to say exactly who.”
Siles nodded and thanked Carol.
He thought, perhaps there was no need to investigate exactly who it was; it was highly likely Jonathan Bryant.
Jonathan didn’t know that Siles was already fully aware of his resurrection plan; therefore, Jonathan’s strange attitude just now also sparked some associations in Siles’s mind.
Perhaps Jonathan personally selected a Time Trace, or perhaps it was an item he himself had once used. This Time Trace arrived by Siles’s side; if he used it without any precautions, he might suffer from Jonathan’s spiritual pollution. In other words, at a certain moment, he, too, had been a spare body for Jonathan.
This explained Jonathan’s suddenly restrained anger. Perhaps it was because Jonathan realized there was no need to be angry with Siles, because one day in the future, he himself might also become… “Siles Noel”?
Siles let out a low sigh, feeling a wave of dullness and absurdity. He, He Jiayin, the novelist from Earth, felt a little unhappy that he could actually understand Jonathan’s thought process.
Carol could roughly guess what Siles was thinking. However, he didn’t know about Jonathan’s resurrection plan, so he merely thought Siles was feeling resentful because this Time Trace might have been chosen by Jonathan. This was also a very normal emotion. So Carol just patted Siles’s shoulder lightly and said, “Go rest for a bit, Siles. The socializing here isn’t that important; your research talent will earn you enough respect within the Society.”
Siles considered for a moment, suddenly thought of something, and said, “I understand. See you next time, Carol.”
“See you next time,” Carol said with a smile. “Don’t get angry with those old geezers, it’s not worth it.”
Siles also smiled slightly and said, “Of course.”
He just found it laughable. He might have felt a slight anger, but that quickly melted into a much heavier, colder emotion. He thought, perhaps Jonathan’s actions would come even sooner than he anticipated.
He parted ways with Carol, left the conference hall, and headed to his office in the Research Department.
He suddenly realized that almost all the high-ranking figures of the History Society were currently in the conference hall, and no one would notice his whereabouts. This seemed like a suitable opportunity for him to try making a check on the sealed artifact.
This was a risky attempt, but it could also be considered an inevitable last resort. After all, his research on sealed artifacts was fundamentally to communicate with the dice, and since it was for the dice, he should try to make an attempt at a check.
He had been constantly busy, and this matter had been delayed for a long time. This afternoon happened to be the right time, so he decided to do it right at this moment.
When Siles walked into Room 557, he checked the time—it was exactly 2:00 PM. A bit later, he had to make a trip to Dawson Street in the West District; after all, it was the opening day of the Toy Store, and he had to go take a look. So, he had two hours to make this attempt.
In the empty room, Siles sat quietly on the sofa, looking at the feather placed on the coffee table in front of him.
He ultimately decided to make a check on this feather; firstly, this feather looked more harmless, and secondly, this feather seemed very common, so even if it was accidentally damaged, it wouldn’t attract others’ attention. However, the faint blue light lingering on the feather still made Siles feel somewhat wary.
He had already put on Akamara’s Eyeglass Frame, used the Tranquil Heart ritual, and also opened the warrior’s black umbrella and placed it aside. The faint blue protective shield gave him some sense of security.
