That was a rather exquisite little book named The World of Little Cynthia. It was pocket-sized, slightly thick, and hardcover. Siles flipped through a few pages and then said with a hint of surprise, “This is a collection of fairy tales?”
“No,” Calverley said. “It would be more accurate to say it is a collection of sprite stories.”
Sprite stories. This was a genre of storytelling that was not quite like a novel, but rather a collection of folklore passed down by word of mouth or a compilation of bedtime fairy tales, carrying the distinct flavor of the era in which they were written.
This was the first time Siles had seen a collection of sprite stories in the world of Fisher.
Of course, he had previously purchased a copy of The Ghosts of Lamifa at the Ernestine Underground Fair back in August, which was a compilation of urban legends and folklore.
Compared to those urban legends, sprite stories carried an extra layer of magical color. They usually featured little pixies, witches, and bizarre kingdoms, possessing the charm of a fairy tale while still retaining secular, realistic elements.
Siles happened to flip to one of the stories.
It told of a kingdom that once existed in a desert during a remote era. The children of the Desert Kingdom loved to build castles out of sand and roleplay various characters within them.
One day, a young woman appeared in the Desert Kingdom. She asked the children if they would like her to let them live inside the castles they had built with their own hands. The children eagerly agreed.
Thus, the woman turned these children into desert sprites, transformed the sand castles into beautiful fortresses built of brick, and let the children live happily inside them, forever ageless and forever innocent.
…Siles thought to himself, Sprites? More likely, the woman killed those children and then bound their souls inside the castles, making them permanent slaves and puppets.
Of course, there were also stories with better endings where good triumphed over evil.
These stories were compiled and bound into this pocket-sized little book, making it the perfect reading material to keep by one’s pillow at bedtime.
Before he knew it, Siles had already read several stories. He abruptly looked up from the book, glanced at Professor Calverley, and said apologetically, “My apologies, I lost track of time reading.”
“No, think nothing of it,” Professor Calverley said tolerantly. “I understand the feeling completely. I occasionally do the same. The charm of the written word brings great pleasure to the mind. I am also very glad that the book I selected has earned your appreciation.”
Siles nodded and asked, “Professor, where did you obtain this book?”
“From a friend’s private collection,” Calverley said. “He had an ancestor who went to great lengths for the education of his children, and thus collected these kinds of books everywhere so his children could learn to read and acquire some principles on how to conduct themselves in life.
“As a result, his home possessed quite a number of books of this genre. He gifted this book to me on one of my birthdays some years ago. He said his granddaughter had already grown up and no longer needed such books.
“…Quite a rarity, isn’t it? As if at my age, I still need this kind of book to coax myself to sleep.”
Professor Calverley put on a look of mock annoyance.
Siles smiled.
Calverley added, “Look at the bookplate on the flyleaf. My old friend pasted that in. So, it is different from my own bookplate. Adolphus always liked to put his own house on his bookplates; he was quite proud of it.”
Hearing this, Siles turned to the flyleaf of the book to observe the pocket-sized bookplate. Across the top was a line of small text meaning “Ex Libris,” while the bottom bore the name of the collector—Adolphus Grant.
The center of the bookplate featured a beautiful drawing that seemed to depict the owner’s study. The desk was piled high with books and drawing supplies, while outside the window, autumn leaves were falling over rolling hills, creating a distinctly autumnal scene.
Calverley handed over a magnifying glass and introduced, “The artist of the bookplate is Alden Bridges, a well-known painter in the city. He hid his signature signature-seal upon a leaf outside the window in the drawing.”
The creators of bookplates usually left their signatures, dates, or even technical notes in relatively conspicuous places.
Aside from these, some bookplates also featured hidden signature-seals. These marks would be concealed in a corner of the bookplate, waiting like an Easter egg to be discovered by the owner and readers.
Siles gazed at that tiny line of letters with mild astonishment. Had it not been for the aid of the magnifying glass, he probably would have been completely unable to spot that virtually invisible signature-seal.
He could not help but say, “This is quite fascinating.”
In this era, people did not have a convenient internet, rapid transportation, or easy shopping methods. Yet, they still sketched out the background colors of their era in their own unique ways.
Siles lowered his eyes to look at this small bookplate, feeling a subtle sense of curiosity and wonder.
They chatted about the book for a while.
Professor Calverley casually mentioned a piece of information, “I heard that Adolphus’s granddaughter is also at Lamifa University, already working as a research scholar. Perhaps you know her as well.”
Siles caught himself for a moment, thinking, Wait, Adolphus Grant? Then could his granddaughter be…
He felt it was an unexpected coincidence, but did not dwell on it, quickly moving on to other topics with Professor Calverley.
Afterward, Professor Calverley once again invited Siles to visit his underground library. Compared to the brief glance during his last visit, Siles and Calverley spent much more time together this time.
The temperature in the underground library was very low. Professor Calverley sat in his wheelchair, wrapped entirely in a heavy coat, looking old and frail. Yet his eyes shone with light as he introduced the books he had collected to Siles.
He knew every single book he had acquired like the back of his hand, able to recount all the stories hidden behind them to Siles.
Gifts from friends, careful browsing and purchasing at book stalls, driving through the night to a different town just for a lead, reading quietly under the dim candlelight with a surging heart…
Professor Calverley said, “The destination of my life culminates here.” He said, “Before I die, I will have the servants carry me down here, so that my soul may return to everything I love.”
He gazed obsessively at the neatly arranged rows of bookshelves before him.
His frequent mentions of death caused Siles to frown slightly. However, Siles ultimately chose to remain silent. He simply listened quietly to an old man’s lifelong pursuit and stories, and then left the Calverley Mansion at dusk.
Professor Calverley had gifted that copy of The World of Little Cynthia to Siles, as if he had intended to do so from the very beginning. The servant pushed the wheelchair to let him bid farewell to Siles at the entrance. He had the coachman drive Siles back to Lamifa University.
Siles waved to him and watched the figure gradually shrink and disappear, feeling a heavy emotion shroud his heart. It was the oppressive weight brought about by death and aging.
Only after distancing himself from the northern suburbs and returning to the lively atmosphere within the city did Siles’s mood gradually ease.
The sky had already darkened. He was not in much of a mood, so he hastily ate dinner at the cafeteria and returned to his dormitory.
In the drawing-room on the first floor, he noticed a letter placed on the table, which looked to have been brought in for him by Lorenzo. He thanked Lorenzo in his heart, then tore it open and took a look.
It was sent by Marchioness Austin. The letter stated that the Greyson Food Company was indeed the supplier for the banquet on the Eve of the Day of Divine Birth.
This matter instantly cleared away the various lingering emotions in Siles’s mind. His gaze turned solemn. Holding the letter, he quickly walked upstairs, sat down at his desk, and read it carefully.
Aside from validating the correctness of their deduction, the letter also mentioned that the food for this occasion was already in the middle of preparation, making it a bullet on the string that had to be fired. It would likely be very difficult for them to intervene at this point; they could only wait until the night of the banquet.
Greyson was responsible for the dessert, beverage, and meat portions of the banquet, while the other parts were handled by a few other food suppliers. Therefore, they only needed to focus heavily on these specific sections.
Enclosed with the letter was also an invitation to the banquet on the Eve of the Day of Divine Birth for Siles. According to the Marchioness, every noble family attending the banquet could invite up to five guests to accompany them.
Siles took out the invitation and examined it closely.
The time was October 19th, Tuesday—which meant tomorrow evening at seven o’clock. The location was the banquet hall of the royal palace of the Principality of Const.
To be held in the royal palace. Siles felt slightly bewildered.
He could not help but think that the security level of the royal palace would certainly be much tighter than that of an ordinary banquet venue. Under such circumstances, no matter what the Greyson Food Company intended to do, it ought to be much more difficult.
Could they possibly have some means to meddle in the internal affairs of the royal palace?
This deduction caused Siles to furrow his brows involuntarily.
He did not overthink it. No matter what, everything would come to light tomorrow evening.
He put away the invitation, then rewrote the letter he intended to mail to his mother, deliberately weaving some events from his daily life into it. He planned to mail this letter along with that wool scarf tomorrow.
After that, he organized his room for a while. He was about to leave Lamifa, so the items in his room needed to be properly tidied up to prevent them from gathering dust.
The luggage for the journey to the Ashless Land needs to be prepared as well, Siles thought.
Because of the matter with the Greyson Food Company, the scene he had originally envisioned—enjoying his holiday and leisurely packing his luggage—was no longer possible.
The Tuesday banquet (he couldn’t possibly walk into danger like that without making as much preparation as possible), the Day of Divine Birth on Wednesday, and he would have to set out on Thursday.
Time was pressing. He thought.
After packing up a portion of his things, he went to wash up and take a bath. Once his hair was dried, he lay down on his bed and drifted off to sleep.
The next morning, Siles woke up very early. He went to the cafeteria for breakfast and pondered over how he should deal with the Greyson matter. Time was extremely short, and he wanted to find as many helpers as possible.
Namely, Grenfield, the Church of the Past, and… the Dawn Revelation Society.
On the nobles’ side, Marchioness Austin surely had her own channels. On the Historical Society’s side, Angela and Elder David possessed far more connections than Siles. Therefore, after mulling it over, Siles felt that he could only seek help from these three sources.
This lifted his spirits slightly.
He planned to head out, first going to the West City to Grenfield’s antique bookstore to ask his mentor how best to handle this matter. Conveniently, he could also mention to Grenfield his plan to travel to the Ashless Land during the winter break.
Since Grenfield had previously stated not to disturb him unless it was an urgent matter, Siles had originally intended to wait until the departure time was finalized before writing a letter to mail over or leave at the bookstore entrance.
But now that the Greyson matter had arisen, Siles was afraid he had no choice but to visit his mentor.
Consult with Grenfield first, then return to the East City to find Commander Bunyan of the Church of the Past.
And the Dawn Revelation Society…
Siles recalled the method Carol had mentioned to seek aid from the Dawn Revelation Society—writing a letter and delivering it to 18 Houseville Street, with the bartender as the contact person.
He returned to 6 Hayward Street, thought it over, and roughly described what the Greyson Food Company had done in a relatively objective tone. He tried his best not to describe overly detailed matters to avoid his identity being discovered.
…Actually, even if it were discovered, it probably wouldn’t be a major issue. However, Siles was accustomed to caution.
He wrote using his left hand—a simple method to alter his handwriting. Fortunately, the written language of this world resembled the alphabet of Earth, so even when writing with his left hand, the handwriting was not too unsightly.
The letter paper used was the most ordinary white paper. Currently, Siles had grown accustomed to using the eight-petal rose paper obtained from Benton; drafts or other notes would be written on it, making these previously purchased white sheets useless.
He brought this letter, along with the letter and gift addressed to his original body’s mother, and went downstairs, intending to set off.
Just then, a postman happened to knock on the door. Siles unexpectedly received a letter from the postman’s hands.
The sender was the wife of the merchant, Lanmere.
In the letter, Madam Lanmere stated that her husband did indeed have a caravan heading to the Ashless Land these few days. However, regrettably, on the very day Siles’s letter arrived, the caravan and Lanmere himself had already set out.
This was truly a coincidence.
Missing the opportunity to travel with the caravan left Siles feeling a touch of regret. However, it was not a major issue either. He could still follow Bertram’s advice and search for reliable explorers to travel with in the border cities of the Principality of Const.
If they happened to cross paths, he might even meet Lanmere in the Ashless Land… a possible conjecture.
Siles went back upstairs to put away the letter before finally heading out. He first went to the carriage company to mail the letter and gift to his mother, and then took a hired carriage to Logan Market in the West City, subsequently walking to Grenfield’s antique bookstore.
The bookstore remained in that exact state. To Siles’s surprise, Grenfield was not behind the counter and the shop door was closed, yet he could still enter.
Siles could not help but think, Perhaps this bookstore utilizes a technology similar to the space behind the door at the Historical Society? The doorknob can recognize the person entering?
He walked to a small door at the side of the counter and called out loudly, “Teacher Grenfield?”
After a moment, he faintly heard Grenfield’s reply, so he waited patiently. After another short while, he heard a flurry of clattering sounds from inside the door, and subsequently, the door opened.
“Siles!” Grenfield called out, his eyes scanning Siles’s entire body up and down. Confirming that Siles was completely unharmed, his originally solemn and stern expression instantly turned lazy. “What happened?”
The current Grenfield looked even more disheveled. His crumpled clothes looked as though they hadn’t been changed in a long time, and his hair was a messy tangle. The dark circles under his eyes had grown increasingly heavy, making his entire being look utterly exhausted.
Siles could not help but frown and say, “Teacher, you ought to pay attention to your rest.”
Grenfield said dismissively, “This is research! Research! Siles, you understand as well, time waits for no one.”
Siles let out a silent sigh and chose not to argue with him.
Grenfield turned around, gesturing for Siles to follow him inside. Siles then stepped into the bookstore’s “space behind the door.”
This place indeed resembled the space behind the door at the Historical Society. There was a whole separate world behind a single door. Siles spotted two rooms: one was Grenfield’s living quarters, including a bedroom, washroom, study, and so forth; the other was his laboratory.
The laboratory was piled high with things, whereas the living quarters were completely empty, looking as though Grenfield had not rested there in a long time.
“Before you state your purpose for coming, let me share my results first,” Grenfield said with immense self-satisfaction. “Potions—according to your phrasing, harmless sealed artifacts—I have indeed found two effective formulas.”
Siles asked with keen interest, “What are the effects?”
“In one of them, I added ‘Devil’s Shoestring’… uh, that is a peculiar plant. In short, the effect causes a sensation of suffocation, as if a shoestring has wrapped around your neck…”
As Grenfield spoke, he seemed to sense the belated awkwardness and cleared his throat. “I experimented on myself. The potion makes a person experience difficulty breathing, causing them to fall into a coma within about three seconds. Furthermore, it does not need to be ingested; it takes effect upon skin contact.”
Siles did not quite approve of Grenfield’s method of experimenting on himself, but he knew now was not the time to discuss this behavior. He said, “This is an excellent method to subdue an enemy, simply by splashing the potion over.
“Under the premise that the enemy is unaware of the potion’s effect, they won’t have too strong a sense of vigilance, allowing the potion to easily play a critical role.”
Grenfield nodded in agreement, and then he added, “The other one is even simpler. I added agrimony, which brings about a powerful sleep-inducing and mind-soothing effect. This one must be ingested to take effect.
“I have been relying on this potion to fall asleep these past few days; that power is indeed very miraculous.”
Grenfield spoke with near-admiration.
Siles could not help but ask, “They are both plants?”
Grenfield nodded and said, “I attempted many kinds of animal materials and obtained some formulas, but the effects were not stable enough… I am not certain how much this has to do with the overly active nature of animal materials.
“In any case, plant materials seem better able to stabilize the potion’s effects, and the results of each batch are roughly the same. It can completely be mass-produced quickly, as long as the formula is strictly followed.”
Siles said with mild awe, “Teacher, you have discovered something very important.”
“That is also thanks to your reminder,” Grenfield said, his expression appearing somewhat dismissive. “If you hadn’t mentioned the concept of ‘harmless sealed artifacts,’ I probably wouldn’t have thought to study this comprehensively. Right…”
As he spoke, he brought over a glass box from the side, inside of which were placed several bottles of potions. They were still those brownish-black glass bottles, totaling nine bottles.
“Four bottles of Suffocation Potion, plus five bottles of Sleeping Potion. Take them and use them,” Grenfield said. “What brings you to see me today?”
Siles thanked him, not refusing this kindness. Subsequently, he mentioned his plan to travel to the Ashless Land and spoke of his project being frozen and transferred to Ms. Aston.
Grenfield’s brows furrowed, looking as though he was about to fly into a rage. He muttered furiously, “Dammit! I was only away for a few days, and those old fogies at the Historical Society bully my student like this!”
“Teacher, this way I happen to have time to travel and tour the Ashless Land,” Siles comforted Grenfield in reverse. “And… this is related to the other matter I came to find you about today.”
Grenfield caught himself for a moment, asking somewhat quizzically, “What is it?”
Siles then brought up the Greyson Food Company, Clarence Dwight, and the Torture Society—the matters he had been investigating recently.
The Greyson Food Company… from its monopoly status in the West City, to the near-out-of-control situation in Gourmet Town, to the strange circus at the October Fair, to the bizarre “ritual” that occurred at the Austin Estate, and right up to the upcoming banquet on the Eve of the Day of Divine Birth tonight.
He also mentioned the eerie actions of the Torture Society, including absorbing entirely new members starting around July and August, suddenly conducting large-scale activities in the suburbs over the past few days, the uncontrollable believers outside Gourmet Town, and Clarence Dwight’s possible tipping off of information.
Siles asked, “What do you think they ultimately intend to do?”
Following Siles’s narration, Grenfield’s brows gradually knitted together. He murmured to himself, “So many things have actually occurred recently?”
After a brief pause, he suddenly snapped back to his senses and said, “It is very obvious, Siles, your vigilance is correct. Timiafa and Blancani, the followers of these two old gods…”
Siles said, “They ought to be opposed to each other?”
“Yes, they ought to be. However…” Grenfield said, “Back when the old gods had not yet perished, they were naturally opposed to each other. The followers of these two deities both pursued a form of mental satisfaction and strength.
“One sought the meaning of their existence within endless indulgence and pleasure; the other observed their innate value through extreme constraint and asceticism. From this perspective, they seem diametrically opposed, do they not?”
Siles nodded; that was exactly what he thought.
Grenfield countered, “But after the old gods perished, the situation gradually underwent a change. Since you heard of the Torture Society’s existence from the Church of the Past, you ought to know that their actions have gradually altered in flavor.”
Grenfield showed a sarcastic smile.
Siles’s voice turned low, “Indeed. From asceticism to torture… their philosophy underwent a change.”
“Therefore,” Grenfield said meaningfully, “who knows whether torture signifies ‘pleasure’ to them? Who knows whether indulgence signifies ‘suffering’ to them?”
Siles thought to himself, The unity of opposites?
…In other words, after the fall of the deities, having experienced a long period of bewilderment and despair, the followers of Timiafa and Blancani were gradually walking toward the exact opposite side they once stood against?
Because they could no longer find any direction, and their deities had long since fallen silently. Thus, they became the very dragons they once loathed.
Siles frowned slightly.
Grenfield glanced at Siles and said, “This is merely a possibility I thought of based on some past clues. In any case, whatever their plot may be, it will still have to wait until the banquet to be unveiled.”
Siles said, “Do they intend to resurrect a deity? But… two deities? Do they actually plan to resurrect them together?”
Grenfield shrugged, saying rather casually, “I am old, so this ought to be a matter for you young people to resolve.”
Siles gazed at his mentor wordlessly.
Grenfield restrained his joking mind and instructed Siles, “This clearly involves old gods. You need to inform the Church of the Past. In dealing with the followers of old gods, their experience is far more abundant.
“Furthermore, I know you possess a great sense of responsibility, Siles. However, I do not highly recommend your deep involvement in this matter. You are still young; go think about your future journey in the Ashless Land.
“Since the Historical Society does not value your project or your talent that much, then go see other scenery and lands. The Ashless Land is a place well worth exploring for a young person.
“Of course… I trust your caution, but the premise of everything is to ensure your own safety.”
Siles wanted to say something, but in the end, he simply said, “I understand, Teacher.”
Grenfield nodded. He thought for a moment and said, “Wait a moment, I will brew a bit more potion for you.”
Siles observed Grenfield’s movements with mild curiosity. This was the first time he had witnessed the potion-making process with his own eyes. Overall, it was quite similar to a chemistry experiment on Earth, but due to the technical limitations of this era, the entire process possessed a distinctly “mad scientist” vibe.
A gloomy environment, flickering lights, slightly outdated vessels, and absolutely loose protection…
He caught sight of Star Dust, which truly looked as though it emitted the light of stars. After being placed into the special vessel used for brewing potions, the Star Dust melted into a solution shimmering with a faint blue light after a few moments under the influence of the warm temperature.
Siles felt a slight bewilderment—because of the physical properties of Star Dust.
No matter what, Star Dust could serve as an energy source; he had personally ridden in a vehicle driven by Star Dust. Yet, this thing now behaved like a miraculous magical material, melting in an instant… what a bizarre melting point. Can this truly be used to develop industry?
Siles would swear on his high school physics teacher’s hair that Star Dust was absolutely not a product of the technology side.
Regardless of the confusion in Siles’s mind, Grenfield continued to add various materials step-by-step. Siles noticed that the primary ingredients for the Suffocation Potion and the Sleeping Potion were not the same, looking as though Grenfield had adjusted the formulas.
Grenfield brewed the potion directly in front of Siles without treating Siles like an outsider at all—of course, even if Siles witnessed the entire process of him brewing the potion, he had no way of understanding the secrets within it.
On Siles’s research path, he had never truly dabbled in the detailed knacks of potions.
Very soon, a few more bottles of Suffocation Potion were completed. Grenfield carefully poured them into glass bottles, then placed them into the potion box and handed it to Siles, saying, “Be careful tonight.”
Siles felt a slight warmth in his heart and said, “I will, Teacher.”
Grenfield nodded. He looked at his cluttered lab bench, paused for a moment, and said, “Currently, my experiment has entered a strange bottleneck.”
Siles listened quietly.
Grenfield murmured, “A vast sea of materials and uncontrollable experimental results… throughout my entire life, how many controllable formulas can I possibly find?”
Siles’s heart stirred, and he suddenly said, “Teacher, do you still remember the method we once discussed about preparing a ritual in advance for our future selves?”
“What? Of course I remember… wait.” Grenfield suddenly froze for a moment. “If a potion is an solidified ritual, if a potion can provide support for our future selves… an absolutely safe and stable choice…
“…I understand! I need more experiments, but not aimless ones… I want to modify those known rituals… Bio-retention! Yes, bio-retention is an excellent method, a specific…”
He murmured a long string of words, none of which Siles could hear clearly.
And then Siles was kicked out by Grenfield.
Before closing the door, Grenfield said, “I will first attempt to modify the ritual of [A Calm Heart]. If it is effective…” He gave Siles a look. “Perhaps that project of yours…”
He didn’t state it explicitly, but Siles could understand his meaning. [A Calm Heart] was a ritual used to temporarily elevate one’s willpower. However, due to the constraints of Time Traces and ritual duration, despite being powerful, it could not benefit everyone.
If it could be modified into a potion…
A profound anticipation emerged within Siles’s heart.
Only when he walked out of the antique bookstore did he suddenly realize, between laughter and tears, that hadn’t he come here today to seek guidance from Grenfield on how to handle the Greyson Food Company matter? How did it end up turning into a potion seminar again?
He reflected on the tendency of the two of them to drift off-topic.
Subsequently, Siles calmed down. He thought of the several bottles of Suffocation Potion inside his backpack; this kind of unexpected potion would likely be able to exert an effect during the banquet tonight, as well as on his upcoming journey to the Ashless Land.
On the invitation to the banquet on the Eve of the Day of Divine Birth, it only stated the requirement to wear formal attire, without mentioning how many items one could carry.
According to Siles’s understanding of this kind of banquet, items could be brought in. However, once the banquet truly commenced, while the ladies could likely carry handbags, the men would probably only be able to keep close-fitting items inside their body pockets.
In that case…
…Did he need to go purchase a set of formal attire first?
Siles’s footsteps could not help but pause, and then he thought to himself, Forget it, there is no need for him to pay that much for a group of old god followers.
Handing the Suffocation Potions to female companions seemed to be a better choice, such as Angela and Dorothea, while keeping one or two bottles on his own person would be sufficient.
These matters could wait until evening.
He was just about to look for a hired carriage to head to the East City when he suddenly stopped, thinking of that letter to be delivered to 18 Houseville Street—who should deliver the letter? Siles wanted to find an object who was completely trustworthy and at the same time would not arouse suspicion.
He thought for a moment, then reversed his direction and went to the Ernestine Tavern, finding Jimmy and asking him to help deliver this letter. Jimmy’s gaze looked a bit curious, but he did not ask further, merely nodding vigorously before leaving in a hurry.
Gazing at Jimmy’s departing back, Siles thought, Hopefully the Dawn Revelation Society side can exert some utility.
Subsequently, Siles boarded a hired carriage and headed toward the Central Cathedral of the Church of the Past in the East City. A cold chill manifested in the air, causing Siles to involuntarily stretch his stiff fingers inside the carriage.
I seem to need a pair of gloves, he thought.
Upon arriving at the Church of the Past, Grosvenor was still absent from the nave; the person Siles met was still Commander Bunyan.
“Good morning, Professor Noel,” Bunyan said with some surprise. “Is there something I can help you with?”
Siles said, “I have heard some news regarding the activities of old god followers, so I came here to seek your aid.”
“Old god followers.” Bunyan’s gaze instantly turned grave, and he said with near-solemnity, “Please tell me the details.”
Siles then recounted the previous events. Bunyan listened thoughtfully and then said, “You believe they will take action during tonight’s banquet?”
Siles nodded.
The banquet. Timiafa. Siles was uncertain what this group of people ultimately intended to do, but a banquet was indeed a venue that highly conformed to ritual requirements.
Commander Bunyan said, “I understand your meaning. However… in my view, a mere banquet and the guests attending it, no matter how noble their identities may be, cannot possibly sustain the resurrection of a deity.”
Siles noticed the non-contemptuous perception toward the old gods within Commander Bunyan’s tone. He then asked humbly, “Then what do you think?”
Bunyan thought for a moment and said, “Perhaps they will also execute something within Lamifa. We cannot solely focus our attention on the single location of the banquet.”
Siles was enlightened.
There was indeed such a possibility. Perhaps the ritual they ultimately wished to conduct possessed a scale far grander than Siles had imagined.
He said, “In that case, we must investigate the recent actions of the Greyson Company.”
He paused, recalling the discount campaign of the Greyson Food Company he had heard of previously, and informed Commander Bunyan of this matter.
He had originally assumed this was merely a method for Greyson to expand its influence, but thinking about it now, perhaps this act of distributing food itself symbolized something.
As they were conversing, someone stepped through the side door and walked over. The person cast a glance over and then cried out in surprise, “Professor Noel, I was just intending to write a letter to you!”
That was precisely Dominic Milner.
Bunyan spoke to him, “Dominic! You came at just the right time, we were just about to discuss some matters with you.”
Dominic caught himself for a moment, walking over with a look of confusion.
Once he heard the inside story of the matter, his confusion transformed into contemplation. He said, “I understand. I will go investigate.” He thought for a moment and then said, “I will have a portion of investigators head to the banquet, and another portion of investigators conduct activities within Lamifa.
“No matter what, tonight is a night that requires tremendous vigilance.”
Both Siles and Bunyan nodded.
Subsequently, Siles asked him, “You mentioned intending to write a letter to me; is it because the investigation into Professor Cabel has made progress?”
“Indeed!” Dominic said. “Please follow me.”
Siles then bid farewell to Bunyan and followed Dominic to his office. Dominic rummaged through a stack of documents, pulled out a manuscript, and handed it to Siles.
Dominic introduced, “I questioned Cabel’s older brother and sister, and finally managed to extract some news from them. The Cabel family’s shops actually engage in some reselling business, and the items resold are…”
He lowered his voice almost subconsciously.
“…Those items dug out from the Ashless Land through archaeological expeditions,” Dominic said. “Some were secretly transported to Lamifa by grave robbers, while others were privately turned over to them by archaeological team members.
“This appears to be their family industry. Cabel’s brother is responsible for buying and selling in the underground black market on Dawson Street, while Cabel’s sister operates a shop in the East City which, aside from the superficial legitimate souvenir operations, also serves a function for information circulation.
“Cabel came into contact with these relics from the Ashless Land when he was very young, which sparked his interest in past history, the fall of old gods, and so forth.
“In short, their family has a dedicated location used to store these goods, situated within an apartment building in a certain district of the West City to deceive the public. There are three apartments in total, and one of the rooms was claimed by Cabel to conduct some of his research.
“We discovered quite a few things there. It must be said that our previous deduction regarding Cabel was entirely incorrect; he was not a cautious individual who took all documents away with him, it was merely that his brother and sister concealed it very well for him.”
Siles listened thoughtfully, yet could not help but ask, “But Professor Cabel has already gone missing, why would his relatives continue to conceal these matters?”
Dominic shrugged, “For their not-so-legal business, is it not?”
Siles then let out a gentle sigh and maintained his silence.
“Take your time looking through it here, I will go inform the other investigators of today’s arrangements,” Dominic said. “What an annoying rainy season it is.”
As he spoke, Siles could not help but look out the window. The gloomy, cold rain had begun to fall once more.
Amidst the pattering sound of the rainwater, Siles’s mood gradually settled down. The time was already nearing eleven o’clock, but Siles was currently extremely interested in the manuscript in his hands, so he lowered his eyes to read it.
This was likely a relic from the Ashless Land that Professor Cabel had found from his family’s not-so-legal business. This was also the reason why they had consistently been unable to find clues from Professor Cabel’s interpersonal interactions for so long.
Because Professor Cabel possessed an alternative “channel.”
This was a manuscript roughly slightly larger than a palm. The paper as a whole had turned yellow, and the corners were stained with a bit of mud, looking heavily aged.
Upon seeing that black mud, Siles could not help but think of the words once spoken by Madam Longman. She had said—and Siles himself had noticed—that the books Professor Cabel returned always bore a bit of stain.
Previously, Siles had assumed that it might be because Professor Cabel would purchase and search for some antiques and ancient texts excavated from archaeological digs, thereby inadvertently smudging those dirt stains onto the books he borrowed from the Lamifa University library.
Looking at it now, that was highly likely related to the industry within his home. His safehouse was located within those apartments used to store “not-so-legal archaeological relics”; such an environment was naturally not clean and tidy enough.
Siles felt another doubt within his heart being unraveled, feeling a bit lighter. He lowered his eyes to flip through the manuscript.
Since Dominic had casually handed it over for Siles to inspect, the contents inside ought to be relatively safe? Siles thought so.
He flipped through it for a while, examining the contents that resembled gibberish, and only then did he understand why Dominic was so at ease—because this was precisely the source of that reading note manuscript of Professor Cabel’s that Siles had previously found in the office.
He finally caught sight of the original text of that excerpted passage from back then.
“I do not believe my deity Hoodoka could die.
“A deity ought to forever reside high above the heavens.
“Believers ought to forever prostrate themselves before Him.
“There must be something we do not know.
“…Some terrifying shadow remains dormant within the darkness…”
Hoodoka. Heaven. Terrifying shadow.
Siles narrowed his eyes slightly.
He experienced a hint of surprise. This surprise stemmed from the fact that during this recent period of time, he seemed to have inexplicably come into contact with quite a bit of information related to Hoodoka.
For instance, the diary of the Hooddoca believer in The Lost Heritage, which mentioned matters regarding statues; and right now, a person who was highly likely a believer of Hoodoka from the Silent Era.
It was as if an invisible pair of hands was pushing the development of events, causing all clues to converge by his side.
Siles thought casually—the Secret-Keeper of the Secret-Keeper?
But this “host” residing behind the scenes was a bit too silent.
…No. It should be said that since Professor Cabel was investigating these matters, and Siles was pursuing the clues left behind by Cabel, he would naturally find these documents and information. The development of events was inevitable.
Fate?
Does this world truly have fate to speak of?
Siles thought for a moment, then collected his mind and continued to focus his gaze downward.
Upon learning that the author of this manuscript was a believer of Hoodoka, and that the direct catalyst that caused Professor Cabel to impulsively head to the Ashless Land was highly likely this manuscript, Siles’s mindset underwent a subtle change before he knew it.
He became more earnest and cautious.
“…
“Shadow. Shadow. Shadow.
…
“Things should not have turned out this way.
“We have long prepared a dwelling place for ourselves.
“The cold tomb cannot conceal our evil deeds.
…
“No no no no no.
“How could a deity die. How could a deity die?!
“I cannot believe it… what have I done…
…
“I believe what we did was the right thing.
“Everything shall return to the glory of my deity.
“Deceiving others equals deceiving oneself. Deceiving oneself equals deceiving others.
…
“We shall ultimately become the statues of the world. The world shall ultimately become the statue we manufactured.
“Heard today that advertisement in the commercial field requires fabricating an idol.
“The deity is our idol.
“An all-evil deity will testify for all-evil believers. We are innocent! The world is innocent!
…
“Dammit! A pack of liars! A pack of crazy, shameless, profit-seeking liars!
…
“How is it possible for a deity to fall…
…
“In that destined abyss of sin, I caught sight of starlight.”
Flipping through this manuscript from beginning to end, Siles noticed that the owner of the manuscript seemed to remain consistently within a somewhat abnormal mental state. At times high-spirited, at times despondent, at times chattering endlessly, at times inexplicably indignant.
This violently shifting tone even caused Siles to suspect whether this manuscript was written by the same person. However, the handwriting was consistently identical, merely appearing somewhat erratic on occasion.
He suddenly thought of the possibility of “mental illnesses” in this world.
In any case, from this manuscript, Siles noticed that this believer of Hoodoka must have experienced the specific time point of Hoodoka’s fall.
Furthermore, it could be discerned from the manuscript that this believer was extremely unwilling to believe that Hoodoka could actually perish. When mentioning this topic, his tone appeared incredulous, and even…
Guilty?
“How could a deity die” and “what have I done”?
These two sentences superimposed together made it seem as though this believer had caused the fall of Hoodoka himself. But… did a human kill a god? How did he achieve it?
Siles felt bewildered.
In addition, Siles also noticed a confounding detail.
“In that destined abyss of sin, I caught sight of starlight.”
What did this sentence mean? What was the “destined abyss of sin”? What was “starlight”?
Reading through the entire piece, Siles only noticed this clue, which seemed to hint at something… the light of stars. If analogized with something…
Star Dust?
Siles thought of the process of Grenfield manufacturing potions he had witnessed not long ago.
He thought, if it were Star Dust… then did this sentence hint at some location? A Star Dust vein? Perhaps this was the reason why Professor Cabel traveled far to the Ashless Land?
However, within this manuscript, it did not answer the question that Siles cared about deeply—the fountain pen.
How exactly did the fountain pen connect with that tribal ruin discovered by Alfonso? And why did it cause Professor Cabel to be so obsessed seven years ago?
Siles had no way of deriving an answer from the currently known information.
