“The room on the east side of the second floor of 19 Bradley Street was always dark; its lights had never been turned on.
“So, when Miss Eleanor Gwynn turned the corner and saw the window of that room suddenly as bright as the August sunlight, she couldn’t help but wonder curiously: who had moved into such a pitch-black house?
“The landlady of 19 Bradley Street was not very likable. She always kept a straight face, sitting in the first-floor foyer, quietly scrutinizing every resident who passed by.
“Miss Gwynn had been stared at by her many times, and every time, she unconsciously quickened her pace because of those gloomy, cold eyes.
“What a bizarre landlady, Miss Gwynn couldn’t help but think, then felt a bit of remorse and mentally apologized to the landlady. She knew what it felt like to live on Bradley Street.
“It was always tinged with gray here.
“Miss Gwynn didn’t know how to describe that feeling. She had lived on Bradley Street for many years, from birth until she was fifteen. She always felt that this place was like an old, faded photograph. Originally black and white, it now had an added touch of gray kissed by the Goddess of Time.
“Miss Gwynn passed by here every Wednesday. Her mother had remarried a wealthy merchant outside Bradley Street. Every Wednesday was the day her mother went into the city to drink tea with the other wealthy merchants’ wives.
“As for Miss Gwynn, she didn’t quite like these occasions and was always eager to dodge such social gatherings. Her mother was helpless against her, as Miss Gwynn had been an opinionated and energetic girl since childhood.
“Therefore, Miss Gwynn would first accompany her mother to the city on Wednesday mornings, and then stroll around nearby on her own. She liked a dessert shop in the east of the city and would always take a detour to go there.
“Then, she would pass by Bradley Street.
“She was incredibly familiar with Bradley Street. When she was just a little girl, she used to skip and jump around here; she knew everyone, every corner, and every window on Bradley Street.
“So, when she saw that the window of the east-facing room on the second floor of 19 Bradley Street actually lit up, she was stunned for a moment. She had lived on Bradley Street for fifteen years and had never seen a tenant willing to move into that room.
“She couldn’t control her curiosity. The young lady stopped in front of the gloomy-faced landlady and asked, ‘Mrs. Holly, who moved in?’
“Mrs. Holly seemed unwilling to answer this question—ha, it must be because she had left Bradley Street for so long that this old lady didn’t even remember her! That was what Miss Gwynn thought.
“But in the end, Mrs. Holly answered the question anyway.
“‘Ludwig,’ Mrs. Holly’s aged voice said. ‘I only remember his name is Ludwig.’
“As she spoke, Miss Gwynn heard steady footsteps coming from the first-floor staircase. How interesting, this person’s footsteps are so steady even when coming down the stairs, Miss Gwynn couldn’t help but think.
“She, on the other hand, was different. At home, when she came down from her third-floor bedroom, she always caused her dignified mother to yell, ‘Eleanor! Stop stomping on that poor floor with your feet!’
“That wasn’t her fault! Miss Gwynn thought, unconvinced. It was clearly the floor that was too fragile! It would creak no matter who stepped on it!
“Enough. Miss Gwynn thought again, you are twenty years old, Eleanor. How can you be so petty about footsteps?
“But she still couldn’t resist turning her head to look at the person coming downstairs.
“A tall man wearing a black overcoat. His gaze, looking over, was like the deep pool Miss Gwynn had seen outside the city when she ran away from home many years ago. The moonlight reflected on the water’s surface without a single ripple. Who knew what was hidden beneath the pool’s depths?
“Sure enough, Miss Gwynn muttered in her heart, this gaze is exactly like his footsteps!
“…”
Siles finished writing the first encounter between the male and female protagonists, put down his fountain pen, and began to doubt whether he had written the female protagonist a bit too childishly.
Perhaps he should find someone to help test-read it. Perhaps his roommate would be a good choice, but Lorenzo didn’t seem to have returned yet; Grenfield was also a good choice, but that would have to wait until next Wednesday.
It was Friday afternoon. Siles had finished his classes, eaten lunch, and returned to his dormitory, attempting to write out the first chapter of his novel’s concept.
The writing went smoothly enough, but he felt a sense of uncertainty. After all, this world was different from Earth; he didn’t know enough about the tastes of the readers here, and he had absolutely no confidence in his heart.
So after finishing the opening, he wisely put down his pen, frowned slightly, and decided to let Lorenzo take a look first.
Siles then stood up, stretched his body a bit, and stood by the window pondering his next tasks.
Tomorrow would be relatively busy, what with meeting Bertram and attending classes at the Historical Society; but Siles didn’t want to waste the time from this afternoon into the evening either.
His gaze fixed on a low building outside the window, hidden in the shadow of the main castle of Lamifa University—the library.
Since the semester began, he hadn’t been to the library yet.
However, in the memories of his body’s original owner, the library was a very important location. During the four years Siles Noel attended school, he spent more than half of his time outside of class in the library.
He read, completed assignments, and wrote theses there, as quiet as a shadow living among the library’s ancient books.
The librarian, Mrs. Longman, even got to know this young, serious, and dedicated student. Occasionally, she would offer him some help, such as gently pouring a glass of water and placing it beside him while he was immersed in reading.
Siles put on his clothes—not a suit, of course, but casual wear—grabbed his bag, and left the dormitory for the library.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Longman.”
“Good afternoon, my child.” Mrs. Longman, sitting behind a low wooden cabinet, greeted him with a smile. “Has the Siles Noel who lingered in the library and refused to leave returned?”
Siles felt a bit embarrassed by her teasing. He said, “However, I can no longer stay here all day like I did when I was a student.”
The original Siles rarely even went home on weekends, instead spending the entire day in the library, reading all kinds of valuable or worthless books. Only the gods knew exactly how many books he had read; the current Siles could only glimpse the tip of the iceberg of that massive knowledge system.
Mrs. Longman looked at him and said gently and kindly, “Young children will always grow up, and will always bear their corresponding responsibilities.”
“You’re right,” Siles said.
Mrs. Longman was a middle-aged woman nearing fifty. Although she was married, no one had ever seen her husband. She stayed in the library all day, leaving Lamifa University later than any student or professor.
She was always exquisitely dressed and beautiful, her age completely unnoticeable, but her tone and manner of speaking revealed the generational gap. She was considered the most charming female professor at Lamifa University, yet she had never taught a single class to any student.
She asked, “What book do you plan to read today?”
“To prepare for my thesis,” Siles answered. “Do you know where the ‘Report on the Population Strata of Kansas City’ archive is?”
“Where did you learn the name of this archive?” Mrs. Longman looked at him in surprise. “I’ve only ever seen history and archaeology students borrow this book.”
“My roommate is Lorenzo Grantham. He recommended this book to me,” Siles explained.
Mrs. Longman nodded. “So it’s him. The archive you want to read is exactly what he dug out of a pit. He was still a student back then.”
Siles was momentarily surprised to hear his roommate’s legendary story. He asked, “So archaeology students can participate in archaeological digs?”
“Of course,” Mrs. Longman said. “As you know, in archaeology, practice always outweighs seniority.”
Siles nodded thoughtfully.
If that was the case… then wouldn’t Herman Grove join the school’s archaeological team this year? Was this the turning point mentioned in the tabletop RPG plot, the reason the Apostate left Lamifa City?
But the premise was that such an archaeological ruin would indeed appear this year, prompting Lamifa University to send out its archaeological team?
From this single piece of information, Siles instinctively reverse-engineered quite a lot of data.
However, he then thought, the Apostate had already been captured, so thinking so much about it was meaningless.
While he was pondering, Mrs. Longman had already pulled out a row of information folders from the low cabinet behind her, transcribed a few lines of text from them, and handed a slip of paper to Siles.
She said, “The book you’re looking for is located here; go find it yourself. Mind the time, don’t make me kick you out.”
The library opened at eight o’clock in the morning and closed at eight o’clock in the evening every day.
Siles thanked her, then went to the reading room on the west side of the first floor and handed the slip of paper to the tall, strong guard at the door.
The guard verified Mrs. Longman’s handwriting and signature on the paper before allowing Siles to enter.
As soon as he entered, Siles choked slightly on the heavy, musty smell. However, he was mentally prepared for it and quickly recovered, following the guidance on the slip to look for what he needed on the bookshelves.
Lamifa University’s library had a total of three floors: two above ground and one underground. Siles had never been to the basement floor; it was said to store some archaeologically excavated items, as well as antiques and ancient books undergoing restoration.
Of the two above-ground floors, the first floor was the reading room, where books could only be read inside and not checked out; the second floor was the circulation area, where the entire floor of books could be borrowed.
Even though there were only two floors actually storing books, the library covered a large area, so the collection size was exceptionally surprising.
The reading room on the west side of the first floor had twenty to thirty rows of bookshelves in total. Siles spent quite some time in the somewhat dim lighting before finding the book he needed on one of the shelves.
It did indeed look like an investigative report, extremely large in format but not very thick. What was placed here was a transcription rather than the original, which was not surprising.
Siles carefully pulled out the transcription, planning to take the report to the outer reading area to browse through it. As he glanced over, he suddenly noticed that the other books on this row of shelves actually had two copies each.
In other words, two copies of the transcriptions were made and then placed on the bookshelves.
But for this “Report on the Population Strata of Kansas City”, only the copy in Siles’s hand remained on the shelf.
Had someone else also borrowed this book?
Siles cared somewhat about this, so as he walked toward the outer reading area, he instinctively glanced at the people currently there.
The walls of the entire reading room were lined with bookshelves, while the area by the windows had many tables and chairs arranged in a straight line, filling the space along the windows from end to end. Siles had come from the inner section and hadn’t paid attention to the reading area at first.
But now, with a brief glance, he spotted a somewhat familiar figure.
It was the foreign student from the public elective course “Appreciation of Silent Era Literature”—Kellogg.
Her unique braiding style made Siles notice her exquisite braids at a glance. Siles walked a bit closer and, sure enough, found the other copy of the “Report on the Population Strata of Kansas City” on her table.
His approach made Kellogg instinctively look up. The foreign student was clearly startled for a moment before stammering, “P-Professor.”
Siles nodded at her. “Good afternoon.”
Kellogg stood up, a little at a loss, but both her expression and movements revealed her respect for Siles as a professor.
Siles then explained to her, “I saw that you were reading this book.” He held up the report in his hand. “I also borrowed a copy of it.”
“Ah…” Kellogg’s words got stuck. She seemed to want to say something, but her limited Konst language prevented her from expressing it accurately. In the end, she could only mumble vaguely, “You… are interested?”
“I need information from certain sections of it,” Siles said in a low voice. He noticed that Kellogg still seemed to want to say something, so he added, “Read first, Kellogg. We’re in the library.”
Kellogg nodded repeatedly and obediently lowered her head.
Siles sat down at an empty table not far away and similarly lowered his head to browse through the contents of the report.
Just as Lorenzo had said, a certain section of this report analyzed the vagrants within Kansas City, and it mentioned the wandering bards there.
“…After the year 200 of the Sardinian Empire Calendar, the number of wandering bards within the borders gradually increased. Judging from the direction they appeared, most of these wandering bards came from the northwestern part of the Empire, which is where the Divine Kingdoms were located.
“The vast majority of the reasons they gave for their wandering were that they could not bring themselves to falsely praise those declining deities, and were thus hunted down by furious believers. If they were luckier, they were merely banished.
“However, according to their accounts, most of their companions had died on the road. They were fortunate enough to arrive in the Empire and scatter across different locations within it.
“Wandering bards typically relied on their eloquence to earn money. They would stop at city taverns, restaurants, and school gates, telling the people there stories from outside the Empire and humming poems they had written themselves. The works of the more famous poets among them even spread widely.
“Below is a survey of the number and living conditions of the wandering bards in Kansas City:
“There are about thirty of them, wandering in parks, plazas, under bridge piers, and other such places. Their daily income comes solely from the alms of their listeners, but they do not consider it shameful.
“They spend most of their money on buying alcohol. Their clothes are all obtained from charitable organizations, as are their meals; occasionally, they will purchase some food while drinking at a tavern.
“People’s attitude towards them has always harbored a trace of vigilant curiosity. If they were indeed willing to settle in the Sardinian Empire, it would not matter, but they still remember their motherlands and constantly dwell upon the deities, which is somewhat troublesome.
“Except when writing poetry or singing, when they can maintain their sanity, they are in a state of drunkenness the vast majority of the time. They are unwilling to work, drinking alcohol as if it were water.
“They seem to abhor the idea of procreation. On one hand, they always keep their distance from local residents; on the other hand, even though there are females among them, no one has ever seen them exhibit any romantic feelings beyond friendship.
“Therefore, it can be assumed for now that this group of wandering bards will eventually die in hunger and poverty.
“Appendix: Previously, I heard a wandering poet singing his poem in a certain tavern and noted down a few lines.
“‘The beloved soul shall eventually depart.
“‘If I were to follow her and depart as well,
“‘I would die in a distant, lonely foreign land.
“‘Die in her cold embrace and an empty graveyard.'”
Siles paid particular attention to this last excerpt, the work belonging to the wandering poet.
He pondered the meaning revealed in these few lines.
This poet’s lover might have already died, leading the poet to live a bohemian lifestyle, traveling alone to a foreign land—perhaps searching for his lover’s soul?—and prepared to die in this place.
But… Siles sensed a somewhat unusual implication within it.
Depart, foreign land, lonely, empty…
Siles froze slightly, suddenly thinking of an Old God in this moment.
The God of Leaving Home and Journeys—the Fading, Blurry Silhouette, Ligadia.
The reason he could immediately think of Ligadia was that in the notebook Grenfield had given him, it also mentioned the blessed ones associated with this deity.
This deity did not have a strong presence throughout all of past history. Of course, there were quite a few gods like this; for example, the God of Asceticism and Silence was the same.
But Ligadia truly lived up to his divine title—like a fading, blurry silhouette that had long departed, he had disappeared from people’s sight a very, very long time ago.
…During the Age of Shadows? Siles pondered for a moment.
He wasn’t a history major, but he had thoroughly researched the literature of the Age of Silence. In Siles’s memory, he had never seen any words related to Ligadia in any literature from the Age of Silence.
Today, however, he unexpectedly found traces of literary works suspected to be related to Ligadia in this survey report that had absolutely nothing to do with literature.
Wandering bards and Ligadia?
He had to admit, it sounded like a perfect match.
Siles held his breath slightly, unable to help but think that if this were truly the case, then he seemed to have discovered something very important.
In the development of Age of Silence literature, the relationship between man and God was naturally of paramount importance; yet texts related to Ligadia had never appeared in the theses of researching scholars, which was truly regrettable.
If Siles could continue to research this further and uncover more texts and data, he would be a pioneer and a leader in this field. Moreover, he was extremely interested in this deity who had vanished during the Age of Shadows.
Or rather, some of the descriptions of this god deeply attracted him.
Leaving home, traveling far, journeys, loneliness. How well these resonated with his state of mind in this world!
Siles sighed softly in his heart, took out his paper and pen from his bag, and copied down these few lines of poetry recorded in the archive. He highly doubted whether he would be able to find the existence of this poet among the vast sea of historical texts.
If he could find it, Siles would unhesitatingly choose to research this poet and the Age of Silence literature related to Ligadia for his thesis this year.
It was a rather difficult subject, Siles thought to himself. He needed to find enough documents, look up enough information, and crucially, piece together a cohesive thread from sparse data.
But then again, Siles thought, this was truly an irresistible subject for a scholar.
No one had ever discovered literary works related to Ligadia from the Age of Silence. But Siles—he might be able to do it.
Siles was dazed for a moment, then shook his head, throwing off these thoughts and emotions that could be considered burdens. He calmed his mind and carefully searched for information in this report, recording it on his paper.
Only if he could confirm that the wandering bards were truly related to Ligadia could his ideas be put into practice. As for now, he should just focus on studying the wandering bards themselves.
He spent two hours reading through the report from beginning to end, gleaning quite a lot of information from it.
Kansas City was once the economic center of the Sardinian Empire, extremely prosperous.
In this report, Siles even saw professions like “pilot” and “airport signalman,” which fully proved that what Lorenzo had told him about the Sardinian Empire already having flying vehicles was entirely true.
However, Siles found it a bit hard to imagine what “airplanes” in another world would look like.
Although this world’s technology had once developed to the point of putting humans “in the sky,” at the same time, Kansas City still contained vagrants, slums, destitute female workers, and charities distributing clothing, winter quilts, and free food.
The wealth gap in this city was so stark, Siles couldn’t help but think.
He recorded all the information he deemed useful, then looked up towards Kellogg, only to find that Kellogg was already resting her chin on her hand, idly waiting for him.
Siles was momentarily startled, then stood up, returning the transcribed report to the shelf together with Kellogg before leaving together.
The guard at the door observed them, confirmed they hadn’t taken away any books restricted to in-library reading, and then let them leave. They greeted Mrs. Longman at the door and sat down on the sofas near the first-floor entrance.
This was the reception area, but it also provided them with a space to talk.
“Kellogg, I noticed you seemed to have something to say to me.” Siles took the initiative to ask the student.
Kellogg’s Konst language was not very good, so she could only speak haltingly: “Kansas… is my, country, in the… far west of Konst. Are you… interested?”
Siles was slightly taken aback. He quickly extracted the valid information from Kellogg’s words and asked, “You mean, Kansas is your motherland?”
Kellogg breathed a sigh of relief and nodded hastily.
Siles hadn’t expected to hear about matters outside the Duchy of Konst here, so he patiently listened to Kellogg’s broken descriptions, piecing together the information he needed from them.
The establishment of the State of Kansas was before the Age of Mists, which meant before Antinum appeared.
The fall of the Sardinian Empire was due to the sudden outbreak of mist in its capital, engulfing countless residents and buildings, paralyzing the country in an instant, after which it never recovered.
Kansas City was fortunate enough to escape this disaster at the time. Relying on its own economic strength, it collaborated fully with several neighboring cities to ensure the safety and daily life of the city’s residents.
After confirming that the Sardinian Empire’s decline was irreversible, Kansas City established itself as an independent nation. However, they also recognized the Sardinian Empire as their origin, so they designated their title as the Principality of Kansas, similar in nature to the Duchy of Konst.
From Kellogg’s words, Siles could discern that as the mists in the Ashless Land gradually dissipated, the cooperation between the Principality of Kansas and the Duchy of Konst became increasingly close.
Apart from private-level connections like merchants and explorers traveling between the two countries, official cooperation at the government level also emerged endlessly. For example, there were exchange students like Kellogg, going to the other’s country to understand each other’s culture and current situation.
“Konst… and Kansas are very different,” Kellogg said. “I think it’s very magical here. Very… peaceful.”
Peaceful. Siles was surprised to hear such an adjective.
Kellogg spoke with a downtrodden mood, “My country… is relatively… chaotic.”
Siles didn’t quite understand what aspects of chaos she was referring to.
Kellogg shook her head and didn’t continue on the topic. She instead asked, “Professor, do you, want to research the former, Kansas City?”
“Yes.” Siles considerately refrained from probing further. “I want to research the wandering bards in Kansas City.”
“Wandering bards…” Kellogg thought for a moment and uttered a bizarre syllable, “Them?”
Siles noticed her tone and asked, “You know of their existence?”
Kellogg nodded, then shook her head. “The ones from the past, I’m not particularly clear about. But the current ones, I know a bit.”
The current ones?
Siles froze slightly and couldn’t help asking, “Do wandering bards still exist in present-day Kansas?”
Kellogg nodded. “Now they are not called… wandering bards, they should be called…” She pondered carefully for a moment. “Translated, they should be called… Eulogists of the Foreign Land.”
Surprise and unease suddenly flashed through Siles’s heart.
Kellogg recalled for a moment. “Yes, it should be translated that way. They..call themselves that.”
“…Eulogists of the Foreign Land?”
Kellogg had absolutely no idea what Siles was thinking and simply said, “Yes, Professor.”
Siles couldn’t help but fall silent for a few seconds.
Because, in Grenfield’s notebook, the individuals with extraordinary powers blessed by Ligadia were called the “Eulogists of the Foreign Land”.
If this wasn’t a coincidence, then Siles could almost immediately confirm that, at the very least, that group of wandering bards who went to Kansas were believers of Ligadia! They were followers of Ligadia!
The followers of the Old Gods within the Duchy of Konst were vainly attempting to resurrect the Old Gods, but what about those in the Principality of Kansas?
Harboring a bit of unease, Siles asked, “Can you tell me about the situation of these Eulogists of the Foreign Land?”
Kellogg again began to painstakingly recall words in the Konst language, haltingly describing the current situation of those people.
And Siles slowly felt a mild astonishment.
Not because this group of people was dangerous, but because they were truly too harmless.
Even though it was now the Age of Mists, they seemed to still maintain the style of the wandering bards from centuries ago. They lived a bohemian life, longed for their homeland, immersed themselves in the haze brought by alcohol and poetry, engaged in no productive work, and wandered all day long.
Siles asked with some confusion, “In the report I just read, the author specifically mentioned that this group of wandering bards didn’t seem to plan on having a next generation, so why have they been able to continuously exist over these hundreds of years?”
Kellogg widened her eyes—Siles noticed that they were a pair of brownish-yellow, cat-like eyes—and she said softly, “Professor, it’s because..there are always wanderers coming to Kansas, and then, joining their ranks.”
Siles suddenly understood, given this unexpected yet entirely logical answer.
“Where do those wanderers come from?” he asked.
Kellogg didn’t quite seem to understand this question, mumbling vaguely, “Just… from outside Kansas.”
Siles thought for a moment and said, “The Ashless Land?”
Kellogg nodded repeatedly.
Wanderers going from the Ashless Land to Kansas… they became followers of Ligadia?
However, Ligadia had already fallen long ago, so it was impossible for them to truly gain the power of the “Eulogists of the Foreign Land.” But the fact that they retained this title truly made Siles feel uneasy.
Siles fell into deep thought for a moment before changing the subject to ask, “Kellogg, I hope you can do me a favor. Help me find some works belonging to these… whether it’s the wandering bards of the past or the Eulogists of the Foreign Land of the present, help me find some of their works.
“I can offer you some compensation, or if you need anything else—like academic assistance.”
Siles sincerely requested help from this foreign student.
“No problem, Professor.” Kellogg enunciated with effort, “This is… just lifting… a finger. I don’t need your compensation.”
Siles looked at this young student in surprise, then smiled and said, “Kellogg, what is your major?”
“History,” Kellogg said. “I study the history of the Age of Shadows.”
“The Age of Shadows.” Siles looked at her in astonishment. Nowadays, the relevant materials for researching the history of the Age of Shadows were still extremely scarce, and students and scholars majoring in this were also very rare. At the very least, Siles knew that the College of Literature and History only had one professor in this related field.
Kellogg nodded firmly, looking extremely interested in the Age of Shadows.
Siles thought for a bit and said, “This time I’m asking you to help me find information. So next time, if you need any materials, you can come to me for help too.”
Kellogg hesitated for a while before finally whispering, “Okay, Professor. Thank you.”
Siles was slightly taken aback and asked, “Why are you thanking me?”
“I’m, not very… likable,” Kellogg said softly.
Siles looked at this foreign student and said, “Don’t think that way, Kellogg. You are an excellent student.”
Kellogg didn’t look comforted, but simply pursed her lips into a smile.
Siles felt that his dry tone made it hard to comfort people, so he didn’t say more. He thought for a moment and suddenly asked, “Kellogg, have you applied to join my club?”
Kellogg asked somewhat blankly, “What… club?”
Siles said, “In the first-floor hall of the main castle, you can go look for it. I would very much welcome you to join.”
Kellogg immediately nodded.
Siles checked the time and found that it was already four o’clock, so he bid farewell to Kellogg, went to the cafeteria to pack a dinner once again, and returned to his dormitory.
He happened to run into Lorenzo, who was yawning as he returned to the dorm.
“Good afternoon, Professor Noel.” Lorenzo teased, “You really look incredibly busy.”
Siles ignored his teasing. “Good afternoon, Lorenzo. I’d like to ask you for a favor.”
Seeing his serious tone, Lorenzo also became serious. “What is it?”
“Help me take a look at the novel I wrote.”
Lorenzo’s expression blanked for a moment, and he exclaimed, “You actually still have time to write a novel?”
Siles thought to himself: Yes, why else would he say his schedule was like a high school student’s? He had to squeeze time out of his classes and serious matters to do this.
Siles said, “I wrote it in my spare time.”
Lorenzo’s expression looked a bit like he was doubting life itself. He followed Siles up to the third-floor bedroom.
This was also Lorenzo’s first time visiting Siles’s room. He somewhat presumptuously looked around a few times, then clicked his tongue and sighed, “Professor Noel, you really don’t seem like an ordinary man.”
“What is an ordinary man like?”
Siles placed his bag on a chair, then took out his manuscript from the drawer.
“Ordinary men wouldn’t be like you, with their rooms kept neat and tidy, absolutely spotless,” Lorenzo said. “They are very casual.”
“Like you, for instance?” Siles said in a low voice.
Lorenzo choked slightly, then said in dead earnest, “You are the one asking me for help right now, Professor Noel. You shouldn’t provoke me like this.”
Siles chuckled softly, then handed the manuscript to Lorenzo. “Please, Professor Grantham.”
Lorenzo looked at him suspiciously, then turned his attention to Siles’s novel.
He read it very seriously. Finally, he asked a strange question: “Siles, shouldn’t you… describe the appearances of the male and female leads?”
Siles was startled.
“That’s popular nowadays. Everyone likes good-looking people,” Lorenzo said. “Aren’t you also very popular in school?”
Siles fell into a subtle silence for a moment, thinking of the blank, suffering expressions on his students’ faces… Then he coughed lightly, ignoring Lorenzo’s comment, and simply said, “I understand. Are there any other problems?”
“No other problems, but I’m a bit curious…” Lorenzo said. “What genre of novel exactly are you planning to write? It’s from a female lead’s perspective… but this female lead doesn’t seem like the usual dignified and reserved noble young lady characters; she even runs away from home.”
Siles gave him an odd look and asked, “Then do you like this character?”
Lorenzo pondered for a moment. “I think she’s… quite, cute?”
“That’s enough,” Siles said. He took back his manuscript from Lorenzo’s hands. “Thank you.”
“Wait!” Lorenzo said. “You haven’t told me, after the male and female leads meet, what happens next? Why does this female lead seem to dislike this man from the very beginning? That is Ludwig, right? …Why aren’t you saying anything?”
Siles said very calmly, “The subsequent plot is a secret. Once I publish it, you’ll know how the story develops.”
Lorenzo’s expression stiffened, and then he said indignantly, “Damn novelists! All you know is how to leave people hanging!” He said this as he walked out, and when he reached the door, he added, “When it gets published, remember to let me know.”
“I haven’t found an avenue for publication yet,” Siles said, thinking of the merchant Lanmere. Before learning this name, he had intended to look for potential publisher connections through there. “We’ll talk about it later.”
Now that he had the ten hundred-coin notes provided by the Church of the Past, he was not in a hurry to earn money through his novel.
Lorenzo: “…”
“You are depleting my friendship with you!” Lorenzo clamored. “Unless you let me be the first to read your manuscript from now on.”
Siles couldn’t help but laugh and could only say, “Alright, Professor Grantham.”
Lorenzo joyfully pumped his fist, then said with superficial reserve, “Thank you, Professor Noel.”
Siles pondered over his reaction, feeling that this novel of his seemed to cater quite well to the readers of this era.
Perhaps he could write a bit more, and then ask Teacher Grenfield about it on Wednesday. His reading experience in the area of popular fiction was probably much vaster than Lorenzo’s.
That night, Siles continued writing his novel and preparing his lesson plans, successfully completing the writing of his lesson plans that very evening.
Regarding this, he breathed a huge sigh of relief, feeling that he seemed to have more free time in the future.
…No, there was still the matter of the club and the society.
Siles sighed again, went to the washroom to freshen up, fell asleep early, and woke up very early the next day.
It was Saturday. He had to go out, though he needed to head to the Historical Society in the afternoon. He hesitated for a moment, and ultimately chose to use the ritual [The Silent Heart], drinking a bit extra magic potion to extend the ritual’s duration to around fifteen hours.
Because today was also the day Ernestine’s trade fair began. If he had time, Siles really wanted to take a stroll there. But that place was also teeming with all sorts of characters, so Siles cautiously maintained himself within the duration of the ritual.
[The Silent Heart] couldn’t be used continuously, lasting at most ten hours; but the ritual duration could still provide Siles with some assistance.
In the past, he might not have had this awareness, but now, after experiencing the twists and turns of the out-of-control Time Trace, he had become much more cautious and thorough.
Right now, that necklace of unknown origin was still sitting on the bookshelf in Siles’s office. Even though Catherine Kinsey thought it was safe, Siles respectfully declined to have anything to do with any suspicious items.
His only regret was that the [The Silent Heart] ritual could provide a total of two points of temporary Will, but one of those points could only be obtained in the early morning and only lasted for most of the daytime.
However, the nights were always more dangerous.
Siles secretly told himself to be a bit more clear-headed and not to be too greedy.
Soon, he left Lamifa University and headed to Atherton Square. At the agreed-upon location, he met Bertram Fenn, as well as…
Bertram smiled and introduced the merchant beside him to Siles: “This is Jerome Lanmere. He’s currently running the Stardust business.”
