“Good morning, Gren,” Siles greeted him.
Grenfield raised a hand without much energy.
By his side was the signed novel by Miss Carmine that Siles had brought him. Ever since he got it, he had kept it close at hand and would often look at it with delight.
Because of that, Grenfield had been in very high spirits lately. So his gloomy, listless appearance now was definitely not normal.
“What’s wrong?” Siles asked, a little puzzled. “Did something happen?”
“This morning, on my way over, I ran into a very irritating fellow,” Grenfield said with a mocking smile. “You know, some people are already annoying to begin with — and the older they get, the more obnoxious they become.”
Siles extracted the information from his words: Grenfield had run into an elder inside the Historical Society. If that was enough to make Grenfield dislike him this much, then that person’s views were probably extremely rigid.
Grenfield had no intention of going deeper into the topic. Instead, he said, “All right, Siles. Today we’ll talk about…”
He thought for a moment. “Non-essential additives in potions.”
Grenfield himself was a potion master, Siles had heard him say before.
However, as Grenfield’s student, Siles had never tried making potions. According to Grenfield, potion-making was a highly random process, and even he could not guarantee the same result every time.
The ingredients for potions consisted of a main ingredient, a secondary ingredient — stardust — and a charm, and those three were necessary. Non-essential additives, on the other hand, were optional, and they would cause the final effect of the potion to mutate in some random direction.
In these past meetings with Grenfield, they had always been discussing potion-making knowledge. The questions and ideas Siles raised sometimes even made Grenfield’s eyes light up.
Of course, that also made Grenfield increasingly hope that Siles would become a researcher rather than a technician.
He said, “As for the non-essential additives in potions… over the past four hundred years, people have tried many types. Some additives produce certain results, while others do not.”
Siles asked, “You mean that even with the same materials, once they’re put into a potion, the mutation outcome might be completely different?”
Grenfield nodded.
Siles said in mild surprise, “Then the only way to know the effect would be to test it after the potion is made.”
“Yes,” Grenfield said. “Every year, the Historical Society updates its list of potion additives, but most of those additives have uncertain effects.”
“A few are already confirmed, though — such as Ed’s Tongue. That’s a variety of violet. If you add that herb to a potion, it can turn the potion into a healing medicine that cannot enter ritual time.”
Siles blinked slightly. “A healing medicine that cannot enter ritual time?”
“Simply put, the potion loses its original function,” Grenfield said. “But it gains very powerful healing effects. A large batch of this kind of potion has already been ordered by the Third Corridor, the knights of the Church of the Past, and the duchy’s military and police.”
Siles said, “Then it’s not really a potion anymore.” He couldn’t help adding, “How could a potion have that kind of effect?”
Grenfield said, “Some people speculate that this may be because the power of time in the potion returns the body to a formerly healthy state. A force of reversal… that’s the theory, but no one has been able to prove it.”
Siles nodded.
Then Grenfield said, “So people suspect… of course, this is only among professionals in the potion field — some researchers believe that potions shouldn’t only be used for ritual time; they may have other, more complex effects.”
Siles thought about it and said, “I understand. They hope that by relying only on a potion, one could gain the power of a ritual, instead of having people personally reenact what happened in the past.”
“Like… a harmless sealed artifact?”
Grenfield froze for a moment, then immediately said, “Exactly! A harmless sealed artifact! Strange, how did I never think of that description before? Yes… potion, sealed artifact!”
“Siles, you truly are a genius! Just as you said, if Ed’s Tongue can turn a potion into a healing medicine, why couldn’t other additives give a potion more capabilities?”
Siles nodded slowly.
He suddenly realized that this world’s system of power, perhaps because of the fall of the gods in the Silent Era, was in a broken, chaotic, and very immature state.
The use of power was still developing, and the framework of the system was still being built. Any Enlightener could potentially go down in history simply because of a moment of inspiration.
Siles’s words suddenly gave Grenfield a huge burst of inspiration. He muttered under his breath words Siles had never heard before, probably the names of certain additive materials.
After a moment, Grenfield slapped the table and stood up. “I have to go to the laboratory! Siles, I’m afraid I’ll be researching this topic for quite some time, so perhaps we’ll have to meet again after a while.”
“If you have anything urgent, come find me at the antique bookstore in West City. My residence and laboratory are behind it. Otherwise, there’s no need to disturb my experiments. Once I’ve got results, I’ll write to you.”
With that, he hurriedly said goodbye to Siles and left Room 177. Siles was startled by his decisiveness and could only say, “We’ll be in touch later.”
Grenfield’s figure disappeared behind the door. After a moment, he suddenly stuck his head back in, as if remembering something, and said to Siles very seriously, “Siles, my student, you are the most exceptional research genius I have ever seen.”
Siles thought to himself that was because he came from another world, with countless open, varied streams of information and an imaginary system of powers as his knowledge base.
He was a little curious what Grenfield wanted to say next.
Grenfield continued, “So… regarding your topic, or any other potentially useful inspiration. No matter how difficult it is, no matter how many people oppose it,” he said solemnly, “please keep going. It will save many, many people.”
After speaking, he waved at Siles and left in a hurry.
Siles stood there stunned, not understanding why Grenfield had brought up his topic again. He thought about it for a while, then came up with one possible explanation.
Perhaps this had something to do with the person Grenfield had met that morning. And since Grenfield might be gone for a period of time in the future, he was worried Siles would be suppressed or excluded during that time.
Or perhaps… because of that person’s appearance, this pressure had already begun, and with Grenfield’s temporary departure, the suppression might become even more extreme?
As far as his project — eliminating the mental pollution of Revelators — was concerned, there was of course nothing wrong with it. But when he had first discussed the theory, he had set human will and divine will in opposition, and argued that human will could resist divine will.
That alone was enough to make some of the Historical Society’s higher-ups hostile toward him and his project. They might think Siles’s real goal was to overthrow divine authority.
Siles couldn’t help sighing and rubbed his temples, slightly headachy, as his thoughts turned back to his project.
At the end of September, he had carried out an experiment to verify that “borrowing the power of one’s past self” could help an Enlightener compare their present and past states, thereby identifying the parts affected and eliminating the polluted portions.
Many Revelators were polluted without realizing it, and thus missed the opportunity to remove the pollution, only to watch helplessly as they sank deeper and deeper. If there were a way to make them perceive the difference before and after pollution, it might be a very good way to solve the problem.
A ritual, a time-marker. An anchor. Something that would let them recognize themselves.
That was the most moderate solution Siles could think of. The best solution, of course, would be to improve one’s will as much as possible. But Siles didn’t know how to strengthen an Enlightener’s will.
After that first experiment, in the past few weeks he had done two more. Altogether, around ten Revelators had participated, selected at random, and the results were as expected.
Because unlike the first experiment — where the time-markers used by the two Revelators were already very closely linked to them — in the later two experiments, less than one-third of participants showed a clear reduction in pollution.
Another third vaguely felt a difference, but the degree of pollution didn’t change. The final third felt nothing at all.
Of course, the sample size was still too small to be persuasive.
Still, after learning of these results, Supervisor Bellow seemed to want to promote this “re-enacting the self” method on a large scale within the Historical Society. On Saturday last week, he said they would discuss the final decision next week.
This kind of large-scale promotion would probably have to go through the elders’ council.
But Grenfield’s attitude…
Over the past few weeks, Grenfield hadn’t really talked with him about the project, and it seemed as if the matter had just quietly passed. He would research seriously and produce a result good enough to get by — that would be enough.
But the situation seemed to have changed subtly.
…Just because of that suddenly appearing senior figure?
Perhaps Grenfield himself didn’t know how the situation would finally develop, but that person had appeared. And that would bring some… not very good news.
Siles narrowed his eyes slightly, then stood up, went to the corridor of the research department, and found Supervisor Bellow.
Supervisor Bellow was sitting alone in his office, staring blankly, as though someone had just spoken to him not long ago. After Siles walked in, the look he gave Siles was full of helpless sorrow.
That expression made Siles understand immediately.
He silently sat down across from Bellow.
After a moment of silence, Bellow said, “I’m very sorry, but your project has been frozen.” He paused. “There is one option: you can let someone else take over your current research results, and when the final results of the later research are published, your name will also be attached.
“But you cannot participate in the follow-up experiments. And… during the short-term research process, your name will not appear on the project either.”
In simple terms, this option meant completely kicking Siles out of the research line. Even if the final result would carry his name, it would likely only be as the person who offered the “inspiration,” a “pioneer.”
By comparison, he could not be the “first author” of the final paper — he might only be listed in the acknowledgments.
Bellow seemed to understand the nature of this choice, so he paused for a long time before continuing. “If you don’t want that… I mean… if you don’t accept such a choice… then the project will be suspended indefinitely… frozen, or rather.”
Siles listened quietly.
Bellow said again, “As for the large-scale promotion of that ritual… it’s not likely in the short term. Of course, in the long term…”
“If my name, my theory, and this project are no longer related, then the ritual can be promoted, right?” Siles asked in a low voice.
Bellow’s eyes trembled. After a moment, he said, “Yes. Professor Noel, yes — that’s right.”
Siles remained silent for a moment.
Bellow said, “I’m sorry.”
“No, this isn’t your fault,” Siles said calmly. “It’s my oversight.”
He had overlooked one thing: in this world that truly had gods, the ideas of an outsider from Earth were simply too out of place.
Without even realizing it, he had already stepped on the toes of certain big figures. He was challenging their bottom line.
Now that he thought about it, it was already somewhat unbelievable that he had been allowed to research this project peacefully for several months.
Of course, he couldn’t help thinking, perhaps they had wanted to see him research the project all along — whether he found results or found problems, it didn’t matter. In any case, a young Enlightener who didn’t know his place…
After he had achieved some results, sure enough, the project no longer belonged to him.
He had already been mentally prepared for that. Since he proposed the project, countless people had warned him and reminded him. And after learning about what happened fourteen years ago, he had developed an even stronger premonition.
But…
Siles felt a bit of heaviness in his chest and sighed silently.
“Then, your choice is…?” Bellow’s voice was very soft.
Siles thought for a moment and said, “Let someone else take over the project.”
Bellow seemed completely unprepared for that answer. He unconsciously widened his eyes and asked, “What…? You mean…?”
“Let someone else continue researching this project,” Siles said. “This is a topic that would benefit all Revelators. It shouldn’t just stop and be cut off like this.”
“You… I never expected that. How could you be willing…” Bellow said incoherently. “You’re truly a noble person… too noble…”
His voice gradually softened, his gaze almost sorrowful.
Siles thought, no, he was simply making the right choice.
Losing the right to research this project naturally made Siles feel regret and dissatisfaction. Before coming to Bellow’s office, he had not expected the situation would suddenly come to this extreme.
But reality was like this. He was not really a 24-year-old novice scholar. The outsider from Earth was old enough and mature enough to know what choice he should make now.
Should he refuse to let others touch his research results out of anger and resentment?
This was a practical project, one that could save countless people. Siles could not, because of his conflict of ideas with certain great figures, let ordinary, innocent Revelators lose a chance to survive.
He asked, “If I agree to this arrangement, who would take over the project?”
Bellow said, “Miss Bernita Aston. You know, she was already researching soul-related topics.”
Siles let out a breath of relief. “That’s fine. I’d be happy to have Miss Aston take over my project.”
Bellow hesitated several times, then finally said, “Professor Noel, I think perhaps I can fight for you…”
“No, Supervisor Bellow,” Siles said firmly, shaking his head. “There’s no need for that.”
At this point, there was no need to involve Bellow any further.
Bellow seemed to want to say something, but in the end he gave up helplessly.
He sat there in silence for a while, then said sadly, “Do you understand? That feeling of helplessness… like when my wife died… like when she suffered so much and I couldn’t do anything…”
Siles remained silent.
“Please forgive my helplessness,” Bellow said softly. “In a while, I’m afraid I’ll also have to leave the Historical Society.”
Siles was startled and wanted to say something.
Bellow shook his head and stopped him. “Even if you don’t mind, or if you’re noble enough not to hold it against them… I’ve already felt too many negative emotions over the years.”
Siles said, “I understand, but…”
“I should have left the Historical Society when my wife died, when I was unable to do anything about her leaving…” Bellow said. “Your matter has made me make up my mind.”
Siles sighed and in the end said nothing.
They sat in silence for a while.
Then Siles suddenly said, “Supervisor, please enlighten me. Why is it exactly now?”
His project had been underway for about two months. Even though he had made some progress… why now, of all times?
That great figure… did he really not know about Siles’s project before?
“There was an elder… who flew into a rage because of your project,” Bellow said with a weary voice. “At the meeting, I proposed promoting your ritual throughout the Historical Society, but he suddenly objected and attacked the idea.
“He seemed to think you were too young, too inexperienced. Even if your project really was meaningful, you shouldn’t be the one personally conducting the experiments. Besides, you had offended the gods — according to him.
“In the morning meeting, no one strongly objected to his view in order to preserve your project. Perhaps they thought it was just a project, that it already had decent progress, and that it wouldn’t matter if another researcher took over… so in the end…”
Siles nodded thoughtfully.
An elder he had never noticed before… in the morning’s meeting? Then this elder was very likely the same conservative old stick-in-the-mud Grenfield had met.
Siles said, “Can you tell me his name?”
Bellow hesitated for a moment, then said, “Yes. That elder’s name is Clarence Dwight.”
Siles froze, then confirmed, “Dwight?”
Bellow nodded and said, “As far as I know, Elder Clarence Dwight has deep seniority within the Historical Society, and he also once personally led part of a research project.” He hesitated, then said, “He himself has very close ties to the research department.”
Siles nodded slowly, thinking that no wonder this elder could directly interfere in internal research affairs.
But what really caught Siles’s attention was not the elder’s status in the Historical Society.
Dwight? he thought. The surname of Horatio, the chairman of the Tourture Study Society, was also Dwight.
He couldn’t help asking, “Is that surname common?”
Bellow seemed not to understand what was troubling him, so he said, “Not common. As far as I know, there is only one Dwight family in Lamifa City.”
Siles thought, then this Mr. Clarence Dwight is Horatio Dwight’s elder?
No wonder Horatio is an Enlightener, no wonder Horatio’s personality is like this… family tradition? Then why would he be interested in believers’ “self-restraint”?
An Enlightener who was sufficiently conservative and sufficiently devoted to the majesty of the gods…?
A thought began to form in Siles’s mind.
Bellow said, “I understand what you’re thinking… but I think even if you know the elder’s name…”
Siles was slightly startled, then said, “You needn’t worry. I have no intention of becoming hostile toward him.”
Even if he did, he couldn’t beat such a senior Enlightener right now. Even Grenfield could only angrily complain about that annoying fellow. He was probably someone on the same level as Grenfield’s teacher.
Still, Siles at least now knew one of the elders targeting him. He would just keep that in mind for now.
Bellow gave a strained smile, then let out a tired sigh.
He said, “Perhaps what I’m about to ask is a bit presumptuous, but…” He paused. “Do you think the power of Revelators actually brings disaster?”
Siles said, “I don’t think so.” He looked at Bellow’s old, cloudy eyes. “Power is simply power. The people who use it determine whether it is good or evil.”
Bellow fell silent.
Siles said, “You discovered the concept of potion purity, didn’t you? I think you must also very much love this kind of power.”
If not, then the young Bellow would probably never have delved so deeply into it. If Revelators were simply regarded as a profession, a usable force, that would already be enough, rather than participating in research projects. That would be too dull, too boring.
After a long silence, Edward Bellow showed a smile and said in a low, hoarse voice, “Yes… Professor Noel. You reminded me of my younger days.”
He murmured, “Before my wife passed away, before I became the head of the research department… those things. Those past days. That was the source of an Enlightener’s power.”
Siles looked at him with a little delayed hesitation.
Bellow smiled. Only wrinkles remained on his old face. “Please forgive me, Professor Noel. I cannot bring you more. I cannot keep this project for you.”
Siles was slightly taken aback, then sighed. “Please don’t blame yourself, Supervisor Bellow.” He thought for a moment, then said, “I understand your difficulties.”
Bellow silently shook his head.
Siles didn’t know what else to say.
After a moment, Bellow spoke again. “If you wish, after this matter passes, you can participate in other projects in the research department. You can rest assured of that.”
Siles nodded, thinking that would probably have to wait a while.
He thanked Bellow for his kindness, then said goodbye and left.
Siles considered whether he should visit Miss Bernita Aston, but in the end he gave up.
As he left the research corridor, he happened to run into his assistant, Aneurin. Aneurin didn’t seem to know what had happened yet. Siles took him to Room 450 and told him everything in the office.
Aneurin looked shocked and sad, and said almost mournfully, “I don’t understand… why would anyone…”
Siles said, “Time is always complicated. Its power may bring wisdom, or it may bring stubbornness.”
Aneurin remained silent.
Siles said, “Don’t be so sad. I’ll still be involved in other experiments in the research department, and I’ll still need you as my assistant then. Are you still willing?”
Aneurin immediately said, “Of course. Professor, they’ll regret treating you like this sooner or later.” He said it with utter conviction.
Siles instead smiled. He wasn’t that naive, but he did feel a little comforted by Aneurin’s words. He said farewell to Aneurin and left the Historical Society.
He had already realized that the early days, when he was merely amazed by the miraculous nature of Revelators’ power, were gone for good.
He wasn’t exactly despondent, but he was somewhat disheartened, so he walked for a while along the tree-lined avenue near Atherton Square. The rain began to fall again in a drizzle, and Siles found a restaurant to take shelter in and eat.
In the lively restaurant, he heard patrons discussing the October Market.
Thinking of what Miss Marpa had said yesterday at the map shop, and of Alfonso, Emmanuel, and even Professor Cabel and his assistant, who were all in the Ashless Land with their safety uncertain, Siles’s heart moved slightly.
After eating, he went to the arcade district.
Even with the rain falling steadily, the October Market was as lively as ever. This was already the fourth day since the October Market began, and many people already knew exactly where to go and what to buy.
Siles wasn’t so familiar with it. Under the blurry, dirty glass arcades, he browsed the goods at random.
Before long, he came near the performance area at the upper left corner and encountered a man standing alone with a stall. He was raggedly dressed and looked embarrassed, wearing clothes that were practical for moving around but already in tatters.
Siles walked over.
“Good afternoon,” he said. “What are you selling here?”
The man raised his head, looked at Siles with lifeless eyes, and said, “I come from the Ashless Land. These are all things from the Ashless Land.”
Siles lowered his gaze to the goods on the stall.
There were some objects of unknown origin, but Siles didn’t dare buy such things. They might be an out-of-control time-mark, or something carrying the pollution of old gods.
Finally, he turned his attention to several notebooks on one side of the stall. They looked like travel journals, but some were already badly damaged, as if they had been gnawed on by some beast.
The stallholder noticed Siles’s gaze and explained, “These are my companions’ journals.”
“Your companions?”
“They’re dead already,” the stallholder replied dully. “I’m selling these to gather enough money for the trip home.”
Siles was slightly stunned. “Is there a map in there?”
“A map?” The stallholder was stunned for a while, then said, “I do have a map of the Ashless Land. My companions are all dead, so I’m planning to go home. I don’t need this map anymore…”
As he spoke, he hammered his thigh with his fist, as if trying to force himself to make the decision.
Finally, he said, “You can get this map from me, but you have to buy these journals too… I mean, since you’re planning to go to the Ashless Land, these things will be useful to you.”
He wanted to say more.
But Siles had already asked, “How much for all the journals?”
The stallholder froze, then said ecstatically, “Fifty ducal coins… no, thirty!”
Siles didn’t bargain. He pulled out three ten-coin notes from his wallet and handed them to the stallholder. The stallholder looked a little surprised, and in his numb eyes a subtle meaning gradually appeared, as if he wanted to regret it, thinking he had asked too low a price.
But in the end, he still accepted the price, pushed the journals over to Siles, and then took a folded piece of parchment out of his dirty pocket.
He said, “I bought this from a merchant. I heard it came from a powerful explorer…” he muttered. “But, alas… the Ashless Land does not belong to me in the end.”
He handed the map to Siles.
Siles unfolded it slightly and looked at it. He saw rough pencil marks on the paper, marking routes and special locations, with a signature in the lower right corner. It was not in the language of the Duchy of Konst, but it was indeed a name.
If transliterated by syllables, it would be…
Quinto Praia?
Siles thought, Is this the map’s cartographer? A powerful explorer?
But would a truly powerful explorer have time to draw this kind of map? Wasn’t this explorer possibly cheated by a shady merchant… Siles thought with some amusement.
He put the journals and map into his bag, then asked, “Did you just return from the Ashless Land?”
“Yes,” the stallholder said. “Do you plan to go to the Ashless Land at this time? I advise you to wait until after this winter. You should know that lately the explorers in the Ashless Land have gone mad, wildly and desperately pursuing those incredible legends.”
Siles said, “The Non-existent city?”
The stallholder looked at him in surprise, then said, “I didn’t expect you to know about that. Yes, lately that rumor has drawn countless people toward Glaston.
“Of course, I don’t really know the specifics. When I left, people were still searching for more detailed clues.”
Siles nodded thoughtfully. He thanked the stallholder and left the stall. He couldn’t find any other explorers from the Ashless Land setting up stalls, so he went to the performance area at the upper-left open space.
The rain canopy had already been set up, and the whole area had grown even darker and gloomier.
Suddenly, Siles frowned.
He saw the clown performing, as well as two tents — one large and one small. At the same time, he also heard some strange, suspicious sounds.
He couldn’t help glancing at the small tent.
The indistinct gazes around him, and the smiles on some people’s faces, all revealed the small tent’s true purpose. Most people, especially the men, absentmindedly watched the clown’s hard performance.
But their attention was inevitably drawn to the small tent.
There were also some young ladies and older women who showed shocked and uneasy expressions and hurried past this performance area.
Siles frowned deeply.
This kind of place… West City really did have them. He hadn’t seen such things in East City. But no matter what, such a place, such a scene, appearing so openly at the October Birth Market…
That was far too unbelievable.
Siles saw two men enter the small tent, and he felt an even subtler unease.
He thought for a moment, circled around from the opposite side of the small tent, and walked to the entrance of the large tent. He heard a burst of noisy sounds inside and smelled a familiar meat aroma.
He was stunned for a moment, then suddenly realized where he had smelled it before — Foodie Town.
Just then, a portly merchant quickly walked out from deep inside the large tent. He carried that same meat smell, and his face was full of suppressed anger. He glanced at Siles quickly, confirmed he had never seen this fellow before, and then swaggered off.
Siles watched his departing back and immediately recognized him — Bill Beaumont. A manager of Greyson Food Company, and also the person in charge of Foodie Town.
He even still wore that brooch on his collar. The pattern on the brooch was still a balance scale with one side hanging low.
Why was he here?
“…Damn it!” a furious curse came from deep in the tent. “We never expected… to do this kind of thing… in a place like this… Don’t you think… this is crazy! Absolutely crazy!”
A woman, wearing a long dress embroidered with stars and looking like an astrologer, also stormed out in anger.
She saw Siles, and her pace slowed involuntarily. “And you are?”
Siles hesitated for a second, then said, “I’m planning to go to the Ashless Land during winter break to explore. I heard you all came from the Ashless Land?”
“Oh.” The woman’s expression softened a bit, then became complicated again. “You don’t need to ask us for information. We’re only surviving in the Ashless Land, making some money, hoping to return to our homeland sooner…”
“…Since you know we’re here to make money, why are you so angry!” a tall, thin man rushed out. “Heidi, don’t you know…”
“I know! Of course I know this makes money! That’s how we do things outside too!” the woman called Heidi suddenly erupted, her voice sharp as she retorted. “But making this kind of money in the Ashless Land is completely different from making it in Lamifa City!”
The clown finished performing.
A beast trainer waiting nearby led forward a large animal that looked like a lion.
The clown came toward the large tent. He craned his neck toward the small tent, then shook his head in regret and muttered, “Useless… completely useless…”
At that moment the tall, thin man’s face darkened completely. “Don’t say useless nonsense to me! We already agreed! Even if you think this will get us targeted by the Const authorities, do you think that merchant would actually allow us to withdraw now!”
Astrologer Heidi’s face went pale at that moment.
The clown, off to the side, bobbed his head and softly said, “It’s too late. It’s already too late.”
Heidi then gave a bitter smile and said, “Yes… maybe I realized it too late.” She looked deeply at the tall, thin man, then turned and left.
The tall, thin man paid no attention to her departure. Instead, he looked at Siles and said, “Guest, I heard you wanted to ask about the Ashless Land? Sorry you had to see that. I’m afraid I…”
“It’s nothing,” Siles said calmly, then bade him farewell and turned to leave.
He actually wanted to find that astrologer named Heidi and ask what she knew, but the October Market was crowded. After walking only a few steps in the direction Heidi had left, he quickly realized he couldn’t find the astrologer at all, so he could only regretfully give up.
Of course, just the information he had overheard already gave him a miniature view of the whole matter.
This circus had been brought over by that merchant named Bill Beaumont, and the reason they were doing this kind of slightly illegal, slightly immoral business at the October Market was also that merchant’s request.
Apart from the tall, thin man — whom Siles suspected was the circus leader — the rest of the circus members had not known what the small tent was for before coming to Lamifa City.
Of course, when they were in the Ashless Land, they really did do this kind of business.
But Lamifa City was of course different. Heidi was worried that the circus would be caught by the authorities for doing this, while the merchant and the circus leader seemed already blinded by profit…
Profit?
Was it really for profit?
Bill Beaumont was himself a manager at Greyson Food Company, and during this period he must have made a fortune. And this was still a legitimate business. He had originally been in the food industry.
Why would he suddenly step outside his original business domain, suddenly contact a circus, and have them come to the October Market to do this kind of business?
Even if it made money, wouldn’t he worry…
No, that’s not right. Siles thought, I can’t look at it from that angle.
He was now certain that Greyson Food Company had problems, or at least some abnormal factors mixed into it. Under these circumstances, was Billy really just doing this to make money when he brought this circus to Lamifa City?
Greyson perhaps symbolized appetite and greed. And what was happening inside that small tent…
Siles had once attributed the events in Foodie Town to two suspicious gods — the god of wine and pleasure, Elco, and the god of gluttony and lust, Temyaf.
And now, Siles was leaning more and more toward the latter.
Gluttony. Lust. Those two divine domains almost perfectly described what was happening in Foodie Town and inside that small tent. So the strange man with the chef’s hat that Jimmy said was pasted on the ceiling…
Wasn’t Temyaf’s divine seat “the Master of the Banquet,” after all?
Siles walked alone through the alleyways of the October Market, thinking. In the end, he thought that he both hoped all of this was a coincidence and hoped it was not.
From another angle, why would the Const government allow a circus to do this kind of business at the October Market? It was certainly not legal enough.
Earlier, Bertrand Fain had told him that this year’s October Market had been prepared in a very chaotic way. Was that why the circus and Greyson had managed to get their way?
But hadn’t Darrell said before that the Third Corridor of the Historical Society was strictly checking everyone participating in the October Market? How had they failed to notice the problem too?
…Another great figure?
Siles couldn’t help sighing. He actually thought this guess was quite possible. After all, as far as he knew, there really were some old-god followers in the upper levels of the Const government.
He didn’t keep thinking about it, and left the October Market.
When he rode a public carriage past the police station, he thought for a moment, then got off and went in to tell a police officer about the circus’s activities. Only then did he feel a little relieved.
After that, he got back on the public carriage and swayed his way back to Lamifa University.
The bumps of the carriage soon left Siles with no room to keep thinking. By the time he arrived at 6 Hayward Street, he had calmed down completely.
The events of today at the Historical Society and the October Market flowed through his mind like water. He reviewed them, thought about them, but after returning to the third-floor study, he collected his emotions and focused on the matter at hand.
The map of the Ashless Land.
He now had two maps in hand: one from Miss Marpa’s shop, and another that was probably from a powerful explorer named “Quinto Praia.”
Siles spread both maps open on the desk and quietly examined them.
The first map was more complete and extensive, while the second was much smaller and seemed to focus on one region of Glaston.
He first studied the former carefully.
The Barnett version of the map had a very elegant and antique aura. The edges of the yellowish, thick parchment were even decorated with exquisite, intricate patterns. According to Miss Marpa, this version had undergone many revisions and was already close to complete.
The center of the map was the Ashless Land, with the various countries arranged around it. The scale of this map was not strictly accurate to real geography, but instead enlarged the Ashless Land’s territory greatly. Siles was also, for the first time, looking at the general shape of Fisher’s world from this angle.
He knew the planet’s size should be about the same as Earth’s, and that a bright star also hung far away in the sky. The land area of Fisher’s world seemed much larger than Earth’s, with not much ocean.
Of course, according to historical records, most of the world’s oceans should have been covered by mist.
During the centuries of the Age of Mist, parts of the sea were cleared, allowing people to return to those regions. But beyond that, a vast amount of the world’s oceans were still plagued by the mist.
Even after the mist cleared, the current oceans still seemed to contain many dangers. That was similar to the situation in the Gainsde region of the Ashless Land. Countless monsters and all sorts of strange “things” were hidden beneath that silent sea.
On the Barnett version of the map, Siles could see that to the north of the entire Withered Wasteland was a vast ocean. Some parts had already emerged, but farther out it was still covered by mist, so people didn’t know what lay at the end of the sea.
He thought of the information the lighthouse residents by the seaside had given Jacob Farley in On the Road.
The giant serpent in the fog, the island transformed whale, the Northern Paradise.
He thought, Would that be north of the Withered Wasteland?
Of course, it might also be a little to the south. After all, the southern land seemed more deserving of the name “Northern Paradise.” That might be the place sheltered from the north wind.
To the north of the Withered Wasteland was the ocean, and to the south were mountains and jungle. Mist also covered the other side of the mountain range, preventing people from knowing what was beyond.
On the right side of the map — that is, east of the Withered Wasteland — Siles saw the names of the Kingdom of Kansas, the Duchy of Konst, and others. The Duchy of Konst lay a little further east, southeast of Kansas.
As for the west of the Withered Wasteland, Siles saw the names of several other countries. Some were unfamiliar, and some were names he had seen in the newspapers.
Some countries were actually east of the Duchy of Konst, bordering it, but they were not clearly marked on the Barnett version of the map. After all, this was a map centered on the Ashless Land.
Another country’s name stood alone in the northeast of the map — the peninsula nation Emmanuel had once mentioned, worshiping the warrior and pirate god Amois: Middleton.
Siles roughly looked over the names of the countries surrounding — or rather, being surrounded by — the Ashless Land, then turned his attention to the map’s center, the Withered Wasteland.
The Withered Wasteland was, in general, a large expanse of barren land not covered by mist. But when looking at the map, many mist clusters still covered parts of the land, making the whole thing look fragmented.
Around these mists were countless lines, like contour lines on a geographical map of Earth, marking the land’s safety — from Galsworthy to Glaston to Gainsde.
In the legend at the bottom right, those lines were called “safety lines.”
Overall, Galsworthy lay slightly southeast of the center of the Withered Wasteland, a fairly large landmass. Siles saw a railway network extending from there to different countries.
Glaston was scattered across many places. Gainsde was the same.
In some parts of Gainsde, Siles saw the mapmaker use the images of wild animals to mark dangerous zones, and many of them looked very strange — like mysterious creatures that only appeared in legends.
Some of the markings had a tiny question mark beside them, as if to say the danger there was uncertain.
This Barnett version of the map contained extremely vast and complicated information. Siles didn’t examine it in detail and soon shifted his attention to the other map.
