Siles asked Anthony about the minor conflict that had just occurred.
Anthony, who had originally calmed down, instantly became furious. He said with great dissatisfaction, “That guy was a total lunatic! I really don’t get it… he stated a completely baffling price, only a tenth of the cost! Did he think I was a philanthropist?”
Siles pondered for a moment and asked, “Why did he say you tacitly agreed to this price?”
Anthony froze, then scratched his head and said somewhat blankly, “I… I don’t know either. I didn’t tacitly agree. I should have… I must have rejected his price.”
Seeing his blank, bewildered, and even somewhat dazed expression, Siles and Eric exchanged a glance, both coincidentally thinking of a possibility.
Because Siles already knew the middle-aged man was a Revelator, he suspected the man had used some ritual to deceive Anthony into selling the fur at an ultra-low price.
Eric, on the other hand, had been startled by the middle-aged man’s reaction before leaving, thinking that this potential follower of the Old Gods had used some strange method—like a Divine Exuvia, perhaps? It was even possible that Anthony’s vitality had been sucked away.
Although Carol had once said that ordinary people were rarely affected by out-of-control Time Traces, right now, the nervous Eric couldn’t care less about that.
Anthony looked at the two adults in puzzlement: “Why did you both stop talking?”
Siles snapped back to reality, thought for a moment, and said, “It’s nothing. I just felt that the person seemed somewhat dangerous.”
“Probably,” Anthony muttered. “No wonder my dad specifically reminded me to pay attention to safety before I came here. This place is really weird.”
Siles asked, “Is your father here too?”
“He’s at another stall. I just brought a few common furs over to sell, but before I could sell much, I ran into that lunatic,” Anthony said bluntly.
Siles sized him up and then said, “Have you learned addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division within a hundred yet?”
Anthony’s expression stiffened. Even under such dim lighting conditions, Siles could still see the sweat suddenly bead on his forehead.
He coughed and said, “I’m learning it!”
Siles couldn’t help but smile. He said, “Then you need to keep working hard.”
He looked around and noticed that the people who had gathered due to the minor conflict just now had all dispersed. He said, “You should get back to your stall.”
Anthony let out a sudden yelp and hurried back to his stall, lest someone walk off with his goods.
Siles waved his hand, bade him farewell, and then walked out with Eric.
Eric said worriedly, “Do you think this matter really is…”
“I don’t know,” Siles said concisely. “However, things might not be as bad as we imagine.”
“I hope so,” Eric said.
“You don’t need to accompany me later,” Siles said. “I’m heading back to the East City anyway; it’s right on the way.”
Eric hesitated for a moment, but ultimately nodded.
Siles steered the topic back to the original reason he had sought Eric out, asking, “I didn’t find anything worth buying at the stalls over there. Will there be more interesting items on Wednesday night?”
“Generally speaking, yes,” Eric said, then smiled bitterly again. “However, I now feel that what’s more important is that Wednesday night might be even more dangerous.
“Why didn’t I feel this way in previous years?”
Siles sighed softly and nodded in agreement.
He asked, “Tomorrow, are you…”
He was about to ask Eric if he had time tomorrow to go to 13 Milford Street together when suddenly, the tunnel behind them once again echoed with people’s exclamations, mixed with a cry of agonized wailing.
Siles and Eric were both startled and hurriedly turned back. They both smelled the scent of blood.
It was still that stall. It was still those two people. And that middle-aged man, who had somehow circled back from who knows where, was now holding a slightly rusty knife, his gaze crazed as he pressed the blade against Anthony’s neck.
The left sleeve of Anthony’s coat had been sliced open, and blood was welling up from a wound on his arm. That was exactly the source of the bloody scent they had smelled.
Eric took one look and sprinted outwards, leaving behind only one sentence: “I’m going to get the guards.”
The middle-aged man was shouting loudly, “Where is it! My! Things! You took my thing!”
Anthony didn’t dare to move; his expression twisted in pain. He cursed, his face pale and livid, and said resentfully, “Bullshit! I have absolutely no idea what… thing you’re talking about!”
“Impossible! Impossible!” The middle-aged man looked to have gone completely mad. “That’s impossible! It disappeared right when I left here…!”
As if suddenly remembering something, Anthony shrieked loudly, “Didn’t you trip and fall when you ran away?! You definitely dropped it then! It has nothing to do with me, hurry up and let me go!”
The middle-aged man’s expression loosened, and the knife in his hand dropped. He stood there stunned, releasing Anthony, and muttered blankly, “Yes, I tripped… bumped into… Who?! Who?! Who tripped me on purpose?!”
His gaze, carrying an extreme frenzy and emptiness, swept across the faces of the surrounding people.
Anthony scrambled away, subconsciously crawling to Siles’s feet, panting heavily. He looked terribly frightened, his entire body trembling violently.
Siles crouched down, took off his coat, and pressed it against Anthony’s wound, which was still bleeding profusely. He quietly hid his bag behind Anthony, and Anthony, whether intentionally or not, similarly blocked Siles’s face.
As a result, the middle-aged man, who found nothing after scanning the surroundings, was dragged out by the tall, burly trade fair guards who arrived shortly after. The guards’ waists bulged, looking as if they were carrying some sort of intimidating weapon.
The surroundings were already a mess. The smell of blood, dirty furs, the chaotic stall, and the scent of sweat permeating the air made everyone’s silhouettes seem blurry.
Siles lowered his eyes, calmly examined Anthony’s wound, and said, “You need to see a doctor.”
Anthony panted, then swallowed hard. He looked around, noticed the crowd had dispersed, and whispered, “That thing is with you, isn’t it?”
Siles was slightly startled, then replied, “Yes.”
Anthony immediately became smug: “I knew it! Seeing how much that lunatic cared about it, I refused to tell him! You see, I didn’t sell you out. Let’s see if you still use addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division within a hundred to make fun of me in the future!”
Siles felt a bit amused, but also somewhat gratified.
Eric walked over at this time, his tone carrying a hint of worry: “How is the wound?”
“He needs to see a doctor,” Siles answered.
Eric hurriedly said, “But there are no doctors here at the trade fair. We have to go outside.”
He was about to suggest a nearby clinic when a man’s exclamation echoed from further down the tunnel. They looked up to see Bertram Fenn running toward them with a face full of anxiety.
“I heard a young boy got into an accident…” He was out of breath, his entire expression changed, and sweat kept pouring down his forehead. Without finishing his sentence, seeing Anthony lying on the ground, he immediately cried out, “Anthony!”
Anthony rolled his eyes. “Not dead yet, Father.”
Bertram suddenly breathed a huge sigh of relief.
Watching this exchange between father and son, Siles and Eric felt a subtle emotion.
Siles thought, the last time Anthony saw Bertram, he was terrified out of his wits. Had he grown from this experience and gotten injured, thus becoming somewhat emboldened?
That being said, Siles still reminded him, “His wound needs to be seen by a doctor.”
“A doctor, a doctor…” Bertram seemed somewhat flustered. After a moment, he suddenly blurted out, “There’s a doctor right at home!”
Siles froze for a moment, couldn’t help but think: That tenant?
Anthony stood up from the ground. His face was a bit pale, but his eyes were radiant. The pain seemed to have vanished from him, because he felt as though he had done something incredibly great.
So he said, “Then what are we waiting for? Let’s go!”
At this moment, a young boy actually had more initiative than the adults.
Siles had also gotten quite a bit of Anthony’s blood on him. Fortunately, he was wearing dark clothes today, so the blood wasn’t very noticeable.
He closed his eyes briefly, feeling that this whole affair had become a tangled mess. He said to Bertram, “What is your stall number? We’ll go help you pack up your goods, and then head to your house.”
Bertram quickly thanked him, gave his stall number, and then impatiently led Anthony away.
Siles and Eric then packed up the father and son’s stalls together, bundling everything up—there really were quite a lot of goods. These items had to be brought over every morning and taken away every late night; they couldn’t be left here.
Hearing that an incident had occurred, the Ernestine Tavern hurried over to offer their services, telling Eric to accompany Siles as he left, and even specifically dispatching a carriage for them to transport the goods back.
“Where is the middle-aged man?” Siles asked.
The person who had come to attentively arrange the carriage for them answered with a trace of embarrassment, “He escaped. We originally intended to lock him in the kitchen temporarily, but we didn’t expect… the guard merely blinked, and he vanished.”
Siles nodded thoughtfully; this didn’t particularly surprise him.
Since that middle-aged man was a Revelator, he definitely possessed some special abilities, including the bargaining that had failed to persuade Anthony. It was just that for Anthony, this was a purely unprovoked disaster.
Siles actually hadn’t fully sorted out the series of events at the trade fair today.
He put those thoughts aside for now, confirmed that all the furs and other goods from Bertram and Anthony’s stalls were loaded, then grabbed his own bag and got into the carriage with Eric, telling the driver to head toward Milford Street.
It wasn’t until the chill of the night completely brushed away the tension and confusion in their hearts, and with no one attacking them the entire way, that Siles and Eric finally breathed sighs of relief.
“This incident today…” Siles pondered, then said, “A bizarre combination of coincidences.”
They still didn’t know the middle-aged man’s identity or the true purpose of the item, but judging by his behavior, it was likely something extremely important.
“He might have come to the trade fair specifically to buy this thing,” Siles whispered, while simultaneously thinking and straightening out his train of thought. Suddenly, he remembered, “I saw this man before, right in the tunnel where stationery is sold.
“He indeed came specifically for this!”
Eric nodded, couldn’t help but ask, “Since he already bought it, he should have left early. Why did he… stop at Anthony’s stall?”
Siles thought about it, then proposed a possibility: “Did you notice his clothes? Very shabby. They probably wouldn’t be enough to get him through the severe cold of Lamifa City’s winter, so he wanted to take this opportunity to buy some cheap winter furs.”
Eric was convinced: “True, the furs at the trade fair are more affordable.”
“And then he noticed Anthony.” Siles narrowed his eyes. “A young boy, easy enough to fool.”
“But he didn’t expect that Anthony wouldn’t be fooled by him,” Eric said. “I’m a bit confused… What kind of method did he use to make him think Anthony would definitely agree to his price?”
Siles shook his head: “I have no idea either. It might be related to his identity.”
Eric said, “Maybe. He seemed…” He pondered for a moment, “…a bit mad. He said he understood something, said it was what he deserved… but what exactly was that?”
“I don’t know,” Siles said bluntly. “Whatever he understood, it actually plunged him into a daze, causing him to drop what he bought. After some time, he realized he had lost the item, so he hurriedly came back to look for it.”
“…Why did he assume Anthony stole his thing?” Eric suddenly asked in confusion.
Siles froze: “Indeed. Anthony was a complete stranger to him. Why did he insist it was Anthony?” He paused, then said, “Because he was completely panicked.
“He seemed to have forgotten what happened during that period of daze. He only remembered that he had fallen after Anthony reminded him. So, he only remembered that after buying that item, he had a conflict with Anthony.
“He could only suspect Anthony, because he had no other suspects.”
“But that still seems too mad,” Eric couldn’t help but say. “His thinking seemed completely rigid, like a lunatic.”
Siles thought for a moment, then shook his head: “Regardless, it seems we have no way of knowing the true sequence of events right now. Let’s check on Anthony’s condition first; I hope he won’t have any major issues.”
They arrived at 13 Milford Street about fifteen minutes later.
The building was now brightly lit. Bertram was waiting for them on the first floor, looking to have calmed down.
He repeatedly thanked Siles, constantly saying that if Siles hadn’t been there, he really didn’t know what would have happened to Anthony.
Siles felt he didn’t deserve such praise, but facing a deeply grateful father, he didn’t say much, offering a word or two of comfort. They temporarily moved the goods into the house.
Siles asked, “How is Anthony doing?”
“Nothing major,” Bertram said, though he still looked distressed. He added, “He’s upstairs. The bleeding has stopped, but the doctor said… the knife was rusted, so it needs to be disinfected.
“But disinfection is too painful… Anthony screamed so miserably that my wife couldn’t bear to listen. They’re currently at a stalemate.”
Siles felt somewhat speechless and could only say, “You should bring Mrs. Fenn downstairs; it can’t go on like this.”
“Right, right,” Bertram said, shaking his head. “Let’s go, you guys come up with me.” He looked at Eric. “And this is?”
“He is my friend, Eric Collens,” Siles said. “He works at Ernestine. The rent collector and property manager I recommended to you earlier is his wife.”
“That’s wonderful!” Bertram said hastily. “Eric, I’ll just call you that. I heard it was you who decisively called the guards, preventing even greater danger. I trust you, and I trust your wife. Please have her come work for me!”
Eric was extremely surprised. He first thanked him, then said, “Let’s go check on Anthony’s condition first.”
He didn’t specifically boast about himself at this moment.
The three of them went up to the second floor together.
Siles had lived here for a while, and at this moment, he felt a trace of nostalgia.
However, the wailing coming from the east-facing room quickly rid him of that leisurely mood. A sixteen or seventeen-year-old boy crying was not a pleasant thing to endure, not to mention the heartbroken and distressed soft weeping of a mother beside him.
They walked in, and Siles smelled blood and a heavy scent of alcohol. Anthony sat there, his face covered in tear stains, his arm bare. Siles took one glance and found the wound was slightly more severe than he had imagined, but fortunately, the bleeding had been stopped in time.
Sitting beside Anthony was Mrs. Fenn, and across from them was the doctor.
This doctor was around thirty years old, with slightly long and wavy hair, always wearing a smile on his lips. He looked gentle and good-tempered. At this moment, he was indeed speaking kindly, trying to persuade Anthony and Mrs. Fenn.
Mrs. Fenn was caught in a dilemma, while Anthony had a sullen face, his expression completely twisted.
The appearance of the three men temporarily broke the stalemate. Mrs. Fenn looked helplessly at her husband, and Bertram stepped forward, supported his wife, and led her away.
Anthony sat there, shivering, his expression suddenly becoming extremely desperate.
Mom! Mom, come back!
The doctor smiled faintly. As the door closed, he pressed a gauze soaked in alcohol onto Anthony’s wound, gently wiping the edges of the cut.
Anthony let out a howl.
“Alright, Anthony, be a man,” Siles said. “Within a hundred…”
“You promised me you wouldn’t bring that up again!” Anthony said to Siles through gritted teeth, tears and snot flowing down his face together.
Siles coughed lightly and said, “Alright, Anthony.”
When the wound was finally cleaned, Anthony’s entire expression went blank. Eric led him downstairs, while Siles helped the doctor tidy up the messy room.
After everything returned to normal, Siles looked at the doctor and took the initiative to say, “Siles Noel. I teach at Lamifa University.”
“Chester Fitzroy.” The doctor introduced himself, “I am the school doctor at Lamifa University.”
“Then we are colleagues.” Siles pointed downstairs. “I have to go. Perhaps we will have the chance to meet in the future.”
Chester smiled very gently, then added, “However, I don’t wish to see you in my infirmary, Professor Noel.”
Siles froze slightly, then chuckled. He said, “Of course, I don’t wish to either.”
Siles left the room he had once rented, then breathed a slight sigh of relief.
Just now, while Chester was cleaning Anthony’s wound, a forced check had popped up in front of Siles.
【Keeper, Chester Fitzroy (Doctor) needs to make a Medical check.】
【Medicine: 65/2, Critical Success.】
【That rusted knife carried some rather unhealthy elements. Fortunately, this is an extremely skilled doctor; his caution and care allowed him to successfully eliminate a greater risk, saving that reckless child and his family from a disaster.】
Siles instinctively breathed a sigh of relief.
A critical success (dice roll 0-4), and this result was reassuring enough—that middle-aged man was indeed a handful; even his knife was troublesome.
That small knife was later picked up by the trade fair guards. It seemed he still needed to warn Eric to tell the people at Ernestine not to casually touch that knife, and preferably to destroy it directly.
Going downstairs, he suddenly realized that since arriving in this world, most of the checks he encountered had been successful. Knight Commander Bunyan and Doctor Chester had even achieved two critical successes. This was good news.
The bad news was that the possibility of a failed check, arriving at an unknown time, still hung over his head like a sharp blade. Consistently successful checks also made one somewhat anxious.
He took a soft breath, stepped off the final stair, and heard Anthony’s soft crying and his parents’ comforting voices. Eric walked out from the first-floor foyer to say goodbye to the family.
Siles heard Bertram say to Eric, “You can bring your wife over tomorrow morning to discuss the details of the job.” Noticing that Siles had also come downstairs, Bertram added, “Siles, you should come over tomorrow too. We can have lunch together.”
Siles didn’t hesitate and directly accepted Bertram’s invitation.
Bertram then said, “Oh, right, your coat…”
“Don’t worry about it,” Siles shook his head. “The trash can is probably a good place for it.”
A blood-soaked coat shouldn’t be sent to a charity organization anyway.
Bertram chuckled and thanked him once again.
Afterward, Siles and Eric bade them farewell and left.
Siles mentioned the issue with the knife to Eric, and Eric nodded seriously before leaving in the carriage that had been waiting there all along.
Before leaving, he specifically urged Siles to be absolutely careful with the item the middle-aged man had dropped.
Now he had to go to Ernestine to wrap things up, while Siles had to go to the Church of the Past to resolve this inexplicable trouble on his hands.
He couldn’t help but rub his temples. Standing on the silent Milford Street, he used the faint firelight to pull out his pocket watch and check the time. It was already 7:30 PM.
What an ordeal. Siles sighed to himself.
He was just planning to go to Logan Market to catch a hired carriage when he suddenly noticed a figure emitting a blue glow slowly walking towards him from not far away.
Siles focused his gaze and realized it was Alfonso Carte, the folklorist who also rented a room at 13 Milford Street.
…He really is a Revelator!
Harboring indescribable thoughts, Siles greeted Alfonso as he approached.
“Professor Noel!” Alfonso said in surprise. “What brings you here?”
Siles felt that explaining everything that had happened tonight would be truly difficult, so he simply said, “A few things. I just came from the Ernestine Trade Fair.”
“The trade fair!” Alfonso was surprised once again. “I just got back from there too. Today’s trade fair ended early; they said some lunatic injured someone.”
Siles gave a slight, bitter smile and said, “The injured person was Anthony—you know Anthony, right?”
“Mrs. Fenn’s son?!” Alfonso said in surprise for the third time. He shook his head. “What a chaotic night.”
Siles deeply agreed.
Alfonso then said, “It’s good that I ran into you. I received the letter you gave me earlier, and I wrote a letter to another friend to ask how much he knows. I’m really not very good with the Sardinian Empire; I usually focus my research on the tribes of the Ashless Land.”
“That’s more than enough, thank you.”
Alfonso nodded. “I will write to you later. Or I can visit you at Lamifa University. I remember there’s a book in the Lamifa University library that I’ve always wanted to read, but it can only be read within the library, which is truly a pity…”
He muttered, rambling on about something.
Then he suddenly snapped back to attention and said to Siles, “It’s getting late, Professor Noel. Do you know about that legend of the Old City?”
Siles froze for a moment, only then remembering what Mrs. Fenn had once told him. She said that people would see shadows of unknown origin on the streets of the Old City at night, so it was best not to go out after 8 PM.
He thought it was just a rumor, but unexpectedly, Alfonso knew about it too.
Alfonso said mysteriously, “Regardless, you should hurry back. The nights in the Old City do indeed harbor some inexplicable dangers.”
Siles thought about it, nodded, and said, “I will. Thank you.”
He bade farewell to Alfonso and left.
If it were only Mrs. Fenn saying this, Siles wouldn’t have cared too much about it. But for Alfonso to say the same thing—and considering he was a Revelator… this matter seemed somewhat strange.
Could those shadows that inexplicably appeared and disappeared truly exist? But what exactly did they represent? Why would Alfonso specifically warn him, saying they were dangerous?
Siles couldn’t help but feel puzzled, yet he had no way to verify it.
He suddenly thought of the story collection about various legends of the Duchy of Konst in his bag, The Ghosts of Lamifa City. He thought, perhaps most of them were fake, but there had to be one or two that were real?
He felt this possibility did indeed exist, but it wasn’t a good thing.
Thinking this, Siles temporarily kept it in mind, then unconsciously quickened his pace, hailed a hired carriage, and left the Old City.
Over half an hour later, the clock’s hands had crossed 8 PM, and Siles had arrived at the Lamifa Central Cathedral of the Church of the Past.
Just like every time Siles had visited before, the Central Cathedral still appeared primitive and serene, standing quietly in the night, as if patiently waiting for its guests.
Siles took a deep breath and stepped into the church.
This time, he didn’t see Grosvenor in the nave. Instead, he saw someone unexpected—Knight Commander Bunyan.
“Good evening…” Bunyan said subconsciously, then added in surprise, “Professor Noel?!”
Siles walked toward him and replied, “Good evening, Knight Commander Bunyan.”
“Just call me Bunyan,” Bunyan smiled. “Every night, the Knight Order patrols the cathedral. Today happens to be my turn. Do you have some business here?”
Siles nodded, thought for a moment, and said, “Do you know about the trouble Ms. Catherine Kinsey resolved for me previously?”
“Of course I know. An out-of-control Time Trace. That was truly too dangerous; fortunately, you are unharmed,” Bunyan said, then comforted him, “However, Lamifa City is generally safe. Last time was just an accident.”
Siles: “…”
He mentioned Catherine Kinsey, actually just to confirm that Bunyan knew about matters related to Revelators, since he had signed an agreement at the Historical Society not to disclose Revelator matters.
But unexpectedly, Knight Commander Bunyan’s casual remark dealt him a bit of emotional damage.
Out-of-control Time Traces were relatively rare—yet in just these few short days, he had already encountered so many dangers related to Revelators.
Keeping his expression calm, Siles said, “Bunyan, I seem to have encountered a… follower of an Old God.”
Bunyan froze slightly, then his handsome face turned serious: “Please elaborate.”
Siles thought for a moment and described the events that had occurred earlier. Bunyan listened carefully, then said, “Please follow me.”
Thus, Siles once again headed to the apse of the cathedral.
Bunyan said, “The Church’s martial mechanism is divided into two parts.” He kindly explained it to Siles, “One part is the Knight Order. We are mainly responsible for overt matters, such as the Apostate previously, and troubles among normal, ordinary people.
“And the other part is responsible for Revelators and some other matters. To avoid trouble and misunderstandings, we call them ‘Investigators’.”
That doesn’t sound like a very friendly title, Siles thought to himself.
“Investigators operate in squads. I recall the Investigator stationed tonight is…” Bunyan pondered, then stopped in front of a room in the corridor and knocked on the door. “Dominic!”
…Dominic?
Siles was surprised to hear this familiar name, and when the door opened, he saw the slightly dark-skinned Investigator he had previously met in the fourth-floor office of Lamifa University.
Dominic Milner.
He was the one who previously told Siles that if he felt uneasy, he could bring Professor Cabel’s manuscript to the Church of the Past and hand it directly to him.
Due to a series of coincidences, however, Siles had handed the manuscript directly to Grosvenor. That would likely bring more attention to Professor Cabel’s disappearance.
At this moment, Dominic opened the door, yawning as he spoke: “What’s… Huh, why is it you again?”
Siles sighed silently in his heart.
“Is it about Cabel again?” Dominic asked casually.
Siles shook his head. “No, it’s something else.”
Dominic began to size Siles up with a weird look.
Bunyan looked at them, roughly recounted what Siles had just said, and then added, “You two talk. I’ll go patrol the nave.”
Dominic stepped sideways to let Siles into the room.
It looked like an office, with documents and files scattered everywhere. Dominic explained, “There are a lot of things here, sorry.”
“It’s nothing,” Siles said. “I imagine you must be very busy.”
“It is what we ought to do,” Dominic smiled. “Revelators stem from Our God’s power, and we are the loyal believers following in His footsteps.”
It wasn’t until this moment that Siles clearly perceived that the atmospheres of the Church of the Past and the Historical Society were indeed different.
They sat down, and Dominic’s expression grew more serious. He asked, “Regarding what the Knight Commander just said, do you have anything to add?”
Siles thought for a moment and said, “When that middle-aged man left the first time, he said… he understood something, believing it was what he deserved, and he even thanked the stall owner and the trade fair staff.
“Oh, right, that staff member was with me. He is also a Revelator who recently joined the Historical Society. His name is Eric Collens.”
Siles specifically mentioned this to prevent the Church of the Past from having any misunderstandings during their investigation.
Dominic didn’t seem to care much about this point.
He said, “Then please let me see that item.”
Siles took the item out of his bag.
He was still within his ritual time, but he couldn’t see anything unusual about this pen rest-like object. However, almost the instant Dominic saw it, his gaze grew solemn.
“What is it?” Siles couldn’t help asking. “Is this matter very serious?”
Dominic pondered for a moment, then said, “This is not an out-of-control Time Trace, but… the implication behind this item appearing here is somewhat concerning.”
Siles thought for a bit and asked, “Followers of the Old Gods?”
“Yes.” Dominic seemed to suddenly snap back to reality. He took a breath and continued, “Overall, you can rest easy. You know, those followers of the Old Gods are always searching for what they call… Divine Exuviae.
“I say Divine Exuviae here, but I don’t mean that it’s genuinely an out-of-control Time Trace. The definition used by the followers of the Old Gods is different from ours. In short, they are just bizarre items.”
Siles nodded slowly.
“And on certain occasions, these things can serve as a token,” Dominic said. “A token to join a certain secret organization.”
Siles realized and looked at the pen rest: “So this is one?”
“Yes, and they are old rivals of ours,” Dominic’s voice was somewhat suppressed. “Those damn masochists.”
“…Masochists?”
Dominic looked at Siles, as if contemplating whether to disclose this information to him. Finally, he said, “Perhaps your classes at the Historical Society will cover this, but there’s no harm in telling you now.
“The God of Asceticism and Silence, the Lonely White Shadow, Brancani.”
As he said this, Dominic sighed.
Surprised to hear this name, Siles said, “In modern research, people have a very high opinion of this god. Why…”
“Why are His believers not so likable nowadays?” Dominic finished.
Siles nodded.
Dominic leaned back, his gaze fixed on the wall lamp beside him. He seemed to recall something, his eyes showing faint suppression and pain.
Finally, he said, “I used to be His believer.”
Siles froze.
“Doesn’t look like it, right?” Dominic smiled bitterly. “But my skin got tanned exactly during the time I worshipped Him, and even now, it hasn’t fully recovered. Can you imagine? It was a form of self-abuse.”
Basking under the blazing sun. Until the skin became scorching hot, dark red, until sufficient pain was felt.
Siles asked, troubled, “Why do such things?”
Dominic said, “This is exactly why this group is so detestable now. You should know that when they were Blessed Ones in the past, they called themselves ‘Ascetic Monks’, but now, they call themselves ‘Torture Monks’.”
Siles frowned slightly.
“And their organization is called the Torture Study Society, an underground group active mainly in Lamifa City. It sounds like quite an interesting organization. I joined it when I was young, thinking it studied historical methods of torture.
“However, once you join, they frantically instill all sorts of ideologies into you. They believe that Brancani is currently merely slumbering, and the reason for this is that their self-restraint, reflection, and pain are insufficient.
“They believe they need to usher in ultimate enlightenment and rebirth through extreme pain and negative emotions. The vast majority of them are insane, addicted to self-abuse.
“They believe any misfortune in their lives is because their self-punishment isn’t enough, thus drawing the wrath of the god. Correspondingly, they also believe that such bad luck is what they ‘deserve’.”
Dominic emphasized those two words, just as the ragged middle-aged man at the trade fair had said.
Siles remained silent, and finally said, “Perhaps Brancani wouldn’t want to see this.”
“Of course,” Dominic sneered. “They only went astray in recent decades, because of a lunatic.”
Siles looked at him.
Dominic said with a tone of extreme hatred, “Esmond.”
He took a deep breath.
Then he continued, “I really feel this guy is genuinely sick in the head. He probably confused the two emotions of pain and pleasure. So, he feels people can usher in a brand-new life through pain.
“Nowadays, that group of Torture Monks is less like believers of Brancani and more like believers of this ordinary human, Esmond. They follow him and experience the tortures he created.
“…Those tortures don’t require any special tools; they are things that can be carried out in daily life. For instance, baking oneself under the sun.”
Siles revealed a complicated expression.
Dominic pointed to the pen rest in front of Siles and said, “Guess what this is used for.”
Siles looked at it.
What could a small, exquisite, quaint, and old pen rest be used for?
Siles shook his head, indicating he couldn’t figure it out.
So Dominic said, “This is their pillow when they sleep.”
Siles showed an astonished expression as he stared at the pen rest: “Isn’t it uncomfortable… It’s just for…?”
“Yes, it is exactly for the pain,” Dominic said coldly. “That’s why I say they’re a bunch of lunatics. When I was young, I forcefully tanned my skin black, was scolded by my parents for three days, and then quit that organization.
“At that time, I even believed Brancani was an evil god. Later, when I joined the Church of the Past, I slowly realized that the problem wasn’t with the god, but with humans.”
Siles remained silent.
Dominic said, “This time, you probably just ran into a madman who wants to join the Torture Study Society. Why did he say he understood? Because he took that humiliation and dissatisfaction as a trial bestowed upon him by the god.”
Siles said slowly, “I don’t quite understand this kind of…” He weighed his words, “…mentality.”
“Not many people can,” Dominic sighed. “There are many, many lunatics in this era.”
