Reading on a train always brings a strange sensation where one loses all track of day and night.
When Siles lifted his gaze from the text, he felt as though a lifetime had passed. Outside the window, they had long since left the city of Lamifa far behind and were currently cutting through a somewhat desolate landscape. The faint, golden setting sun hung precariously at a corner of the world.
Siles glanced at his pocket watch and discovered that the time was actually past four o’clock.
Quinton was sitting directly across from Siles, his emerald-green eyes appearing exceptionally striking in the slightly dim light. This was the first time Siles had encountered someone with such distinct features in this world.
Most residents of the Duchy of Konst possessed black or brown hair and eyes; aside from their deeper, more defined facial features, they were largely similar to those from the country on Earth where He Jiayin used to live.
Even individuals like Kellogg and Emmanuel, who hailed from the Duchy of Kansas, had hair and eye colors that were mostly black or brown.
Apart from their habit of braiding their hair and slightly different facial structures, they did not differ significantly from the residents of the Duchy of Konst.
However, Quinton Praia’s… art style—yes, that was the word that came to Siles’s mind—reminded him of something more exotic and fantastical.
Grey hair, tan skin, and green eyes; he looked like a character straight out of a fantasy novel.
Coupled with his mysterious and powerful identity as an explorer, as well as… his potential connection to the Dawn Revelation Society, Siles couldn’t help but take notice of him.
That grey-white hair, Siles thought to himself. Could Quinton be the man who appeared outside the palace kitchen?
But how could he be entangled in this matter? Is he a member of the Dawn Revelation Society? Ultimately, why would Quinton Praia, an explorer belonging to the Ashless Land, appear in Lamifa at this precise moment?
Siles had sent the letter to the Dawn Revelation Society on the morning of the banquet, and a mere ten hours later, Quinton arrived in Lamifa? That did not align with the transportation speeds of this era.
Unless Quinton was already in Lamifa to begin with.
But if he was in Lamifa, it was highly unlikely to be because of the banquet; it wasn’t until Marquis Austin died abruptly that they truly confirmed a group of people intended to orchestrate some “grand event” on the eve of the Day of Divine Birth.
At any rate, why did Quinton appear in Lamifa? Does it have to do with the Dawn Revelation Society?
However, Siles did not reveal any of these thoughts in front of Quinton—after all, he couldn’t very well ask Quinton directly, “Did you see the judgment I made?”
He felt a deeper layer of vigilance and unease, stemming from this powerful explorer’s strength and ambiguous motives.
Quinton was currently holding what appeared to be a manuscript, reading through it. The movement of Siles putting away his book startled him; he lifted his gaze and looked over, his green eyes reminding Siles of a cat’s eyes.
“You really are a quiet traveling companion,” Quinton remarked. “Sitting there reading all afternoon.”
Siles lowered his eyes to glance at the book, then said, “It’s just that I happen to be quite interested in this subject.”
“What is it about?” Quinton asked.
Siles hesitated for a brief moment before replying, “I specialize in the literature of the Era of Silence. This book is titled Literature Under the Mist of the Era of Silence, and it primarily discusses the changes and development of literature after the appearance of the mist.”
Quinton nodded thoughtfully. After a pause, he suddenly let out a low chuckle: “You truly are a man of culture.”
That chuckle caused Siles’s pupils to contract slightly. He felt an indescribable sense of familiarity—yes, that chuckle was identical to that of the mysterious man who had appeared at the kitchen doorway.
More doubts and suspicions welled up in his heart.
Yet Quinton didn’t seem to care about any of that. He waved his hand at Siles: “I have no desire to stay cooped up in this compartment all day. I need to go stretch my legs.”
With that, he stood up and walked out.
Siles noticed that he wore a black trench coat, underneath which was tight-fitting attire that was highly conducive to movement. Although it was indeed autumn and winter clothing, it was by no means heavy enough to hinder his movements.
He wore no accessories on his body, save for a leather cord used to tie back his hair. However, Siles noted that around Quinton’s neck hung a fine black chain. The pendant attached to the necklace disappeared beneath his collar.
Such attire perfectly suited the man’s identity as an explorer. Of course, it also stood in stark contrast to the dress code of the residents of Lamifa.
…Just why exactly did Quinton Praia appear in Lamifa?
Sitting there alone, Siles slowly knit his brows. Ultimately, he shook his head, pushing all these thoughts aside. He took his wallet, train ticket, and other valuables with him, then likewise stood up and left the compartment. He paid a visit to the washroom before heading to the dining car to eat.
The food in the dining car tasted reasonably good. However, the passengers seated there seemed to have little appetite. What they were faintly discussing was the recent incident involving the Greyson Food Company.
Ordinary citizens did not know the specific insider details, so they only knew that Greyson’s seemingly cheap and delicious food was actually made from some incredibly repulsive ingredients.
Amidst various rumors, people’s accounts grew increasingly exaggerated, ranging from expired and rotten raw materials to dead rats, muddy water, excrement, and so forth. Because of this, residents within Lamifa had recently felt a rising urge toward anorexia.
At this moment, passengers in the dining car were precisely discussing this matter. Listening to them, Siles couldn’t help but recall the scenes he had witnessed during the banquet, and his eating movements stalled involuntarily.
Finally, someone couldn’t resist reprimanding them: “This is a dining car! Please refrain from discussing such disgusting topics!”
The few passengers who had been talking with increasing agitation suddenly fell silent. After a moment, they apologized and left.
Siles took a deep breath, only then calming his mind to continue eating his dinner.
However, he couldn’t help but put on the Akamara’s Eyeglass Frame. Although he hadn’t consumed any potion at this moment… it was, at the very least, a psychological comfort.
After finishing dinner, Siles wandered around the train. He could see a vast array of passengers, all bearing different appearances and expressions; occasionally making eye contact with Siles, they would display varying reactions.
Because of the start of the winter break, many of the passengers riding the train at this time were rushing from Lamifa back to their hometowns. Carrying large bags and small bundles, they momentarily reminded Siles of his own hometown.
Ultimately, Siles stood at the vestibule between the carriages, his gaze fixed on the scenery rushing past outside the window. In this moment, he finally felt a slight sensation of being on a journey.
Not merely traveling from Lamifa to the Ashless Land, but rather coming from Earth to the world of Fisher.
He was heading toward an unknown destination, he would encounter strangers of various descriptions, and he would possess an unfamiliar journey. The sense of destiny’s unknown had never been stronger than at this exact moment.
To be honest, at least in this moment, Siles could comprehend why those travelers who journeyed far from home would desire the protection of Brancani.
He spaced out in a daze for a while before abruptly snapping back to reality and returning to his compartment.
The wall lamp had already turned on automatically. Night had fallen, and the sky outside the window was pitch black, leaving behind only a rare, scattered glint of light from an unknown farmhouse’s night lamp.
He figured his mother should have received his letter by now.
Siles sat down, pondering for a moment what to do for the evening—read? But he had already spent the entire afternoon reading. Thus, he simply sat there, quietly gazing out the window while lost in thought.
The book he had read this afternoon had brought Siles some entirely new insights.
Literature Under the Mist of the Era of Silence. Under the mist.
Before and after the appearance of the mist, the content, form, and style of literature underwent a cataclysmic transformation, as if the meanings and symbolism of certain words had suffered a collapse and dissociation.
Originally, death was merely death; after that, death was no longer just death.
To Siles, or rather, to He Jiayin who had crossed over, it was sometimes difficult to imagine what the mist of this world truly signified.
He had once believed it to be more akin to a natural disaster—like a sudden earthquake or typhoon that destroyed buildings and homes, while also shattering civilizations and glory. Humanity, in the aftermath, had rallied their spirits to rebuild their homes.
But he suddenly realized that it was highly likely to have been a prolonged apocalypse stretching across many years.
The world had once undergone a chronic death. And the surviving humans were merely lingering on under the protection of a single deity.
Siles thought of the city and civilizational ruins sleeping upon the seabed within the Deep Sea Dream. He ultimately couldn’t help but ponder a question: Where exactly did the mist originate from?
All historical records, even literary ones, described the mist as merely: a sudden outbreak of grey-black fog. If one were to ask others about this matter, their responses would be largely identical.
It seemed that everyone’s memory of this past historical event consisted solely of words like “sudden” and “grey-black fog,” rather than… a specific individual.
Siles thought reflectively that, yes, any historical event ought to be linked to a specific historical figure. At the very least, it should be connected to a specific location or incident.
Yet the mist of the world of Fisher was never like that. These mists that blanketed the world and shrouded the earth seemed to be taken for granted, appearing so silently in this world and receiving everyone’s tacit acceptance.
Siles recalled his earlier verification of the time of Akamara’s fall.
Before Akamara, the God of Dreams and Illusions, fell, He forced the humans of the entire world to suffer three days of nightmares.
In The Karacoc’s Diary, Karacoc had once mentioned that before his hometown was covered by the mist, he had continuously been startled awake by nightmares. And the time he began to wander coincided exactly with the time of Akamara’s fall: the year 356 of the Era of Silence.
Therefore, in Siles’s mind, the fall of a deity became linked to the birth of the mist.
Deities fell during the Era of Silence, and the mist also appeared during the Era of Silence.
A suspicious coincidence was that whether it was the fall of a deity or the appearance of the mist, in the mouths of the people of the world of Fisher (those who were not followers of the Old Gods), it was treated as an unshakeable, unquestionable objective fact.
If someone were to ask them, “Have the Old Gods truly fallen?” they would cast a strange look and say, Of course, the Old Gods have naturally fallen; now only Antinam remains as a deity.
Similarly, if someone asked them, “Does the mist truly cover the world of Fisher?” they would also cast a peculiar look, as if looking at an idiot, and say, Do you have absolutely no understanding of history? The mist truly covers our world.
This… uniformity in attitude inadvertently caused Siles to connect these two events together.
But did the fall of a deity lead to the birth of the mist, or did the birth of the mist cause the fall of a deity?
This was truly a question that his current self could not answer.
This world—Siles thought to himself once again inadvertently—concealed countless secrets. The past of the people, the past of the world, the past of the deities. Every corner of time would bring the gaze and attention of destiny.
…The compartment door was suddenly opened.
Siles looked up in surprise and saw Quinton walk in.
There seemed to be a spark of anger in Quinton’s gaze, and he said with some dissatisfaction, “Have you been to the dining car? The topics of conversation there are truly enough to turn one’s stomach.”
Siles said, “Because of what happened in Lamifa, isn’t it?”
Quinton nodded, then offered his commentary: “Disgusting followers of the Old Gods—I look forward to the day they can see reality clearly and consciously vanish into some corner of this world, rather than acting as an eyesore.”
The way he spoke actually piqued Siles’s curiosity. He weighed his words for a moment, ultimately failing to suppress his bewilderment, and couldn’t help but ask, “I have heard that in the Ashless Land, there are also many followers of the Old Gods active?”
Quinton glanced at him, muttered something under his breath, and then sat down across from Siles. Using a tone that suggested “I am truly bored, which is the only reason I am willing to answer such a foolish question for you,” he spoke sluggishly: “Indeed so.
“The vast majority of the Old God followers in the Ashless Land are located in Glaston, or even Gainsde. A large portion of them are mixed together with the people of those tribes in the Ashless Land.
“Of course, there are also some who are explorers. ‘Explorer’ is merely a very rigid title; explorers differ wildly from one another. Some adventure groups are also believed to be connected to the Old Gods.
“However… if you ask me, people who stay in the Ashless Land for extended periods cannot be separated from the Old Gods. It’s just that they won’t necessarily become followers of the Old Gods, throwing themselves into that entirely meaningless resurrection enterprise.”
He spoke in a highly sarcastic tone, clearly not believing that “enterprise” was a venture in the literal sense.
Siles nodded thoughtfully and said, “Is it because of… the power of the deities?”
“You could say that,” Quinton said. “Since you intend to go to the Ashless Land, then you ought to know of the existence of the Inspired and the Protected, right? To this day, in the Ashless Land, there are still explorers who call themselves the Protected.
“Of course, they are actually all Inspired. It’s just that they only borrow the power of the Protected from a single specific path, and thus believe themselves to be merely the Protected.
“They have entirely forgotten that their power actually originates from Antinam, rather than other deities. But what can be done about it? They ultimately feel that the power is already within their control.”
As he spoke, Quinton laughed with a hint of playfulness, full of malice. It was hard to say whether that malice was directed at the long-fallen Old Gods, Antinam, or those overconfident explorers.
Siles fell silent for a moment because of Quinton’s unexpected aggressiveness.
He had already discovered that this arrogant, cold explorer, while not necessarily a bad person, always carried a hint of an inexplicably foul temper and a mocking tone—as though he held some truth unknown to others, thereby giving him a righteous sense of superiority.
Siles did not wish to judge another’s personality. At any rate, Quinton was a powerful and veteran explorer of the Ashless Land; if he was willing, he might be able to provide Siles with some useful information.
Thus, after a moment’s hesitation, Siles asked, “I would like to inquire—have you ever heard of the followers of Hoodoka being active in the Ashless Land?”
The moment the divine name “Hoodoka” left Siles’s mouth, Quinton suddenly reined in all expressions on his face, narrowing his eyes slightly as he stared at Siles.
He carried a subtle emotion closer to vigilance, like a feline animal pricking up its ears, and asked, “Why do you want to know this?”
Siles thought about it, then said, “A former professor of mine learned some information regarding Hoodoka and subsequently went to the Ashless Land. Since then, his whereabouts and whether he is alive or dead remain unknown.
“My purpose in traveling to the Ashless Land this time is actually, in part, to investigate his whereabouts.”
Quinton nodded slowly, then said, “The House of Hales?”
“Yes,” Siles said in a low voice. “That is the purpose of my journey to the House of Hales.”
Quinton’s emerald-green eyes stared at Siles with great interest as he said, “What a coincidence. I also came to Lamifa for this matter, and I am likewise about to head to the House of Hales for this matter.”
Siles was truly taken aback this time. He weighed his words before asking, “Is it that the followers of Hoodoka intend to do something?”
Quinton said, “I am currently investigating a certain past secret.” Mentioning this, his gaze turned somewhat deeper. Under the dim light, those jade-like pupils silently watched Siles. “Regarding the fall of Hoodoka.”
Siles was slightly startled.
The fall of Hoodoka? Wasn’t this exactly what Professor Cabel was investigating?
He thought for a moment and said, “Hoodoka… I recall He fell during the early period of the Era of Silence?”
“Yes. The year 134 of the Era of Silence,” Quinton said. “I haven’t uncovered the specific location of His fall. Judging from some circumstantial evidence, it is highly likely to be somewhere in the Ashless Land.”
Siles pondered, feeling it necessary to be somewhat candid about the information he had obtained. He didn’t know exactly what Quinton had uncovered, but their current goals appeared to be aligned.
Thus, Siles said, “I obtained some information from that professor. He managed to acquire a manuscript from an archaeological excavation site somewhere in the Ashless Land, which mentioned some… inside information.
“It seems that the fall of Hoodoka was connected to His followers.”
Quinton looked at Siles with slight surprise, then said with a half-smile, “I didn’t know that Hoodoka’s fall was related to those followers. However… in truth, I am currently tracing the whereabouts of the relics from that archaeological discovery.
“I heard that a portion of them was sold to Lamifa, so I came here specifically, but I returned empty-handed. I didn’t expect it to be linked to your professor.”
Siles also felt a hint of surprise. He said, “That professor has been missing for nearly four months. It was after his disappearance that I found the manuscript among the items he left behind.”
He bypassed the twists and turns of Professor Cabel’s disappearance case; there was no need to explain it in detail to Quinton right now.
Quinton merely nodded, casually skipping over the topic: “That’s not important either. What matters is that archaeological discovery. It was a site discovered at the beginning of this year, located in the eastern part of the Ashless Land, near the Duchy of Kansas—do you know of the Duchy of Kansas?”
“I know of it,” Siles said simply.
Quinton continued: “Therefore, the Kansas authorities quickly dispatched an archaeological team, led by a veteran archaeologist in the country, Professor Macleod.
“However, precisely because the site is located in the Ashless Land, by the time Professor Macleod arrived, quite a few explorers—or rather, grave robbers—had already stolen a portion of the unearthed relics.
“…In passing, according to Professor Macleod, this site is a ruined temple.”
A temple. Siles was slightly startled.
This was the first time he had heard this concept mentioned in reality.
The deities of the world of Fisher differed somewhat from the concepts of “gods” on Earth. They did not seem to enjoy faith, nor did they derive any power from human belief—at least according to the information Siles had gathered.
They were more like a group of powerful entities possessing immense strength, and because of this strength, they received the worship of humanity.
Therefore, although sacrificial activities had appeared very early on, they were entirely one-sided sacrifices and adoration by humans.
The people of that time utilized rudimentary altars. Most followers did not engage in large-scale construction; records of building temples or palaces for deities were scarce in history.
For instance, the followers of deities like Brancani mostly chose to emulate the actions of their deities, embarking on their respective journeys or subscribing to philosophies of asceticism.
In other words, the followers of this world practiced the philosophies and ideas of their deities, rather than immersing themselves in scriptures, prayers, or constructing landmark buildings.
Of course, one couldn’t say there were none at all. For example, erecting statues or recording the sayings of deities and their agents were things followers would also do. But… overall, they leaned toward practice and action.
Followers of Death truly went to revere death; followers of Art truly went to study art; followers of Gluttony truly indulged in fine food; followers of Dreams truly spent all day dreaming…
The religious atmosphere of deity worship in this world was not particularly dense.
Siles surmised that this was highly likely connected to the “true” existence of deities and extraordinary powers in this world. Manifesting miracles was no longer some miraculous skill; followers themselves could achieve it, the difference being merely… possessing a lesser amount of power?
Just as the followers of Menavaca, the God of Commerce and Oaths, were all devout but non-fanatical merchants, countless followers of deities in the past had merely revered strength.
Naturally, after the deities fell, this atmosphere altered to a massive extent. The piety of the followers was distorted over the long passage of time into a more fanatical guise.
Therefore, when Quinton mentioned that the archaeological site was a ruined temple, Siles couldn’t help but feel a modicum of surprise. After all, he had rarely heard of past followers building temples for deities.
But it wasn’t completely nonexistent. Even if past followers weren’t as crazed as those today, extreme beliefs certainly existed.
Siles asked in a deep voice, “A temple of Hoodoka?”
Quinton seemed completely unsurprised that Siles could guess this, and he nodded: “The Temple of Belan. In certain ancient texts… as well as the journals of an agent of Hoodoka, the Temple of Belan was precisely the place where Hoodoka Himself resided.”
Siles was slightly startled, and he said with some surprise, “The place where Hoodoka… resided?”
Quinton cast Siles a sharp, almost piercing glance. He said, “Humans need dwellings, so deities naturally do too. A deity’s dwelling…”
“…A deity’s paradise?” Siles asked.
Quinton stopped, then burst into a sudden laugh. Using a playful tone, he said, “Mr. Siles Noel… I suddenly view you in a whole new light. Where did you learn of this concept?”
Noticing that unusual tone, Siles pondered for a moment.
The explorer before him was mysterious and powerful, possessing a wealth of information regarding the Ashless Land. Furthermore, he seemed highly knowledgeable about secrets related to deities.
Siles didn’t believe it necessary to get along exceptionally well with him, but regardless, he ultimately wished to learn some information he was curious about from this explorer’s mouth.
Thus, in the end, he said candidly, “In a record of a conversation between someone who was likely a follower of Brancani and others.”
He clearly saw Quinton’s emerald-green pupils contract abruptly when he mentioned Brancani, as if completely astonished. Quinton fell silent for a moment, then said in a peculiar tone that seemed to imply it was expected, “That likely came from a nobleman’s book collection, didn’t it?”
Siles nodded.
He had learned the concept of “a deity’s paradise” from the book The Poet’s Fate gifted to him by Professor Calverley; the conversation record of the Brancani follower mentioned therein had indeed occurred between a poet and a nobleman.
Quinton muttered something under his breath, like “what a coincidence.” He then said, “Then I truly ought to thank you for your candor. This piece of information you provided is of quite significant help to me.”
Now it was Siles’s turn to feel perplexed. Why would this help Quinton?
However, Quinton had no intention of resolving Siles’s confusion. He merely said, “The Temple of Belan was precisely Hoodoka’s ‘paradise.’ His sanctuary, His resting place, His…”
Quinton weighed his words. His Konst language was excellent, standard and without any accent. But in this moment, he seemed at a loss for words.
Finally, he simply said, “…Former residence.”
Former residence, Siles thought. Such a term was truly evocative. It seemed to imply that the deity had indeed resided there in the past, yet the era of the Old Gods had ultimately passed.
However, Siles had no intention of parsing words with Quinton right now. He merely said, “Hoodoka’s paradise was a temple, so His followers likewise established temples as… proof of their faith?”
Quinton glanced at him: “If it were me, I wouldn’t use a word like ‘faith.’ To be honest, if you have truly interacted with the followers of Hoodoka, then you ought to know that they merely view Hoodoka as their protective umbrella.”
Siles was amused by certain elements in Quinton’s tone, but he suppressed his smile, merely gazing at Quinton calmly.
That calmness almost made Quinton uncomfortable. He seemed not to comprehend why Siles would display such an attitude, so with a slight perplexity—and a reluctance to show it—he stared deeply at Siles.
Then he shifted the subject: “However… what you said is also correct. They did indeed construct quite a few temples as crude imitations of the Temple of Belan.”
Siles thought that this peculiar phrasing made it sound as though Quinton had actually seen the Temple of Belan himself.
However… if the concept of the Temple of Belan was just like the Deep Sea Dream—a “place” that did not exist in reality but was born from a deity’s power—then perhaps someone truly had interacted with it.
Just as Siles had inadvertently come into contact with Akamara’s power and was subsequently pulled into the Deep Sea Dream.
Though from another perspective, ordinary people did not possess willpower attributes as high as Siles’s. If they truly came into contact with a deity’s power… it might not necessarily be a good thing.
Thinking up to this point, Siles couldn’t help but let out a soft sigh. He turned to ask about another matter: “So, may I ask, what exactly did Professor Macleod discover in that archaeological site?”
He lifted his eyes to meet Quinton’s gaze, and the end of his sentence paused involuntarily.
The night had grown late. Over the course of their conversation, the time had already reached eight o’clock in the evening. Siles could still hear the roaring rumble of the train’s operation. The carriages swayed rhythmically, never stopping. He beheld the emerald-green eyes of Quinton opposite him.
Conversing like this within such a confined, quiet little space with someone he had met for the first time today always brought a slight sense of unfamiliarity to Siles.
He did his best to ignore this issue, yet it remained inevitable that he would feel a faint, deeply buried awkwardness whenever he inadvertently locked eyes with Quinton. He would not let this show on the surface.
However, this was perhaps the instinctive reaction of a human from Earth’s internet era arriving in this slightly backward age.
Communication between people in this era was always highly face-to-face; even writing a letter allowed one to see the distinctions in each person’s handwriting. It was entirely unlike the internet era—where everyone’s face was hidden within identical streams of data.
In contrast, Quinton didn’t show much reaction. He merely sat there lazily, his gaze flickering unpredictably. His pupils would reflect a highly complex and brilliant glint under the illumination of the occasional light flashing past outside the carriage window.
He replied, “Inside the collapsed temple, some ancient patterns, utensils, corpses, skeletons… these things are highly vital to those historians and archaeologists, helping them untangle the history and past of a certain timeframe.
“However, for us…”
He made a gesture, presumably signifying “explorers” or “Inspired.”
“We only need to focus on the manuscripts, time-traces, antiques, and the like within,” Quinton said. “And these items, as I mentioned just now, have largely been stolen by grave robbers.”
Siles let out a sigh of slight regret.
Quinton pulled out a manuscript casually tied together with a fine cord from a backpack beside him, handed it to Siles, and said, “This is a copy of a manuscript found within that temple ruin.
“It was precisely after obtaining this manuscript that I thought of investigating the specific circumstances of Hoodoka’s fall. However, I didn’t expect…”
He muttered something in a low voice. Subsequently, he stretched his arms.
“Take your time reading it, Mr. Noel.” He seemed to deliberately pause with a hint of playfulness after Siles’s surname, but that playfulness seemed to be something only he himself could comprehend, appearing merely somewhat arrogant to anyone else.
Siles took the copy and softly offered his thanks.
Quinton waved his hand at him, then said, “I’m going to step out for a walk.”
After Quinton left, Siles imperceptibly breathed a sigh of relief. With a faint, wry smile, he couldn’t help but pinch the bridge of his nose. A mysterious, powerful, and temperamental Inspired… truly brought an immense amount of pressure.
…This is certainly not the start to the journey I envisioned, he thought with genuine emotion.
Throughout his exchange with Quinton, Siles had remained sitting upright and formal, appearing calm to the point of expressionless. But he knew in his heart that his vigilance toward Quinton had only increased.
Quinton clearly understood a great deal of the inside scoop regarding deities. And Siles, who did not possess a thorough understanding of the Ashless Land, didn’t know if this was the norm for those explorers.
But why was Quinton so candid with Siles? Even willing to hand this copy over for Siles to read?
…Ultimately, is he or is he not the man who observed my judgment process?
Siles lowered his eyes and pondered for a long time, yet he was ultimately unable to arrive at a definitive conclusion. Crucially, he could detect absolutely no clues from Quinton’s behavior; the other party seemed to know nothing about Siles.
Yet occasionally, when he spoke Siles’s name, he carried a strange, playful, and profound meaning.
From another angle, if Quinton had traveled to Lamifa solely because of the Hoodoka followers’ matters, then he likely had no connection to the Dawn Revelation Society?
Then why did he appear at the palace kitchen doorway? Could Hoodoka have become entangled in some way with the Greyson Food Company? That… portrait used to deceive the diners?
The beginning of the year, a temple ruin, related to Hoodoka.
Siles thought to himself that he couldn’t help but think of that portrait, because that portrait had likewise been obtained by Elgar at the beginning of this year.
Perhaps Quinton knew that this portrait had been sold to Lamifa, which was why he had specifically come to the Duchy of Konst? Logically, this seemed plausible; but then why would he head to the House of Hales?
Moreover, Siles’s appearance on this train was because he had chosen the highly safe yet lengthy route of “Lamifa – Maltz – Biedel – House of Hales.”
Why did Quinton also choose such a route? He could clearly have selected a much faster path, given that he possessed such formidable strength and a deep understanding of the Ashless Land.
Siles found it somewhat difficult to comprehend.
Furthermore, if Quinton truly had no connection to the Dawn Revelation Society, then did the Dawn Revelation Society fail to receive Siles’s letter, or did they simply have no intention of participating in resolving this matter? This didn’t seem to align with the impression the Dawn Revelation Society had left upon Siles.
…After thinking for a long time, Siles felt his nerves were truly a bit too sensitive. He recognized countless questions yet was entirely unable to answer them, merely burdening his brain in vain.
Thus, he shook his head and ceased thinking further. He turned to examine the copy Quinton had handed over.
This copy was obtained from a ruined temple constructed for a deity by His followers. Siles had originally assumed the contents would be records of followers singing praises to the deity, or other topics related to faith.
However, once he began reading, he felt a tinge of surprise.
It did not originate from a follower. In truth, the source of this manuscript was a worker who had constructed this temple. It was that worker’s diary.
This was a portion of the diary, of course. The remaining parts were highly likely to have been destroyed over the long passage of time, or damaged during excavations, archaeological work, or the activities of grave robbers.
In short, this diary somewhat patchily recorded the construction process of the entire temple and mentioned a few strange occurrences that caught the worker’s attention.
The diary did not mention the ultimate fate of the workers after the temple’s construction was completed.
They might have left, and this worker forgot to take his diary with him, leaving it buried for many, many years until the temple collapsed and the ruins were finally discovered, bringing the diary back to light.
They might also have been killed; otherwise, it would be difficult to explain why the diary would appear inside the temple—could these followers truly be so careless as to allow an unrelated diary to be stored in the temple for so many years?
Siles pondered. The appearance of this diary within a temple was itself hinting at something.
Siles spent roughly an hour reading through the diary completely.
As the content of the diary wasn’t particularly extensive, Siles had initially thought he would finish it very quickly. However, it ultimately cost him quite a bit of effort.
The primary reason was that the diary’s owner hailed from the distant Era of Silence and didn’t possess a high level of education; many of the words and terms he utilized forced Siles to ponder for a long time to grasp the intended meaning. This severely slowed his reading progress.
Nevertheless, in the end, he still felt that this reading session was worthwhile. He also understood why Quinton was willing to hustle and bustle, coming specifically to Lamifa to search for relevant materials.
The special events and associated omens primarily mentioned in the diary could be divided into three categories.
The first category involved certain individuals whom the workers encountered during the construction of the temple who clearly did not belong to the ranks of Hoodoka’s followers.
In the diary, the worker named Duva stated that the followers of Hoodoka were highly conspicuous because they always wore black clothing and preferred to walk in the shadows. They detested the sun, the daytime, and everything associated with morality and the stars.
Therefore, when other people came to visit, these strangers appeared exceptionally striking.
Duva described several types of people, including “people who looked very fat,” “people who looked very thin,” and “people who walked in a swaying manner.”
Siles speculated on the identities of these three types of people—could the very fat people refer to merchants? Siles couldn’t help but think of Billy, the stout manager of the Greyson Food Company, as well as Bolin Elgar.
From this perspective, the very fat people might refer to the followers of Timiafa.
After all, the basic industry and agriculture of this era had not yet developed to the point where ordinary citizens could become fat. generally speaking, only wealthy individuals with comfortable lives—such as noblemen and a segment of merchants—possessed obese statures.
As for the very thin people, standing in opposition to the followers of Timiafa, could they perhaps be the followers of Brancani?
Siles guessed as much, but it was difficult to find actual evidence proving that followers of Brancani would appear within a temple of Hoodoka. No matter how crazed the followers of Brancani were today, during the Era of Silence, asceticism and sin sounded like two deities that were entirely incompatible.
If Siles could more or less guess at the fat and thin people, he was entirely at a loss regarding the “people who walked in a swaying manner.”
They might also be followers of some deity, but what kind of followers would exhibit such behavior?
The second category of special phenomena appearing in Duva’s diary was the… strangely hurried attitude of Hoodoka’s followers throughout the entire construction process.
They did not require the workers to treat this temple with meticulous precision and care. On the contrary, they merely demanded speed.
Seeking only speed while disregarding quality—to construct a temple dedicated to a deity with such an attitude?
Even Duva, a bricklayer, wrote this in his diary: “The employers do not resemble devout followers. Their attitude toward spending money is also not as generous as the followers of other deities.”
A stingy yet urgent attitude and emotion permeated all the employers Duva came into contact with.
By the end, this emotion even affected Duva and his companions. In the diary, Duva mentioned that he actually made a mistake during his work today—something he had never imagined happening in his entire life.
Strange visitors and strange employers; these were two types of anomalies appearing in Duva’s diary.
And the third category consisted of Duva’s own personal observations. He hadn’t realized the crux of the issue himself, merely writing it casually into his diary, but this point caused Siles to feel a slight lingering fear.
Clearly, the events had transpired hundreds of years ago, becoming an established fact that he could no longer interfere with, yet Siles couldn’t help but worry for the Duva of that time.
One night, Duva suddenly woke up to use the latrine. The site where the temple was being constructed was a chaotic mess, and a half-awake Duva took a wrong turn, accidentally arriving at the shadow on the backside of the temple.
The moonlight in that moment dissolved behind half the shadow of the temple.
Duva cast an inadvertent glance and spotted a human figure slumped there. He let out a yawn, assuming in his grogginess that someone had accidentally fallen there, and loudly called out to the person.
As he called out, Duva walked toward the spot. It was a cold, moonlit night, and Duva figured the person was likely frozen stiff, given that all four limbs appeared exceedingly rigid. But coming closer to inspect, he was astonished to discover that it was actually a human-shaped statue lying flat on its back on the ground, its expression frozen in terror.
Duva was instantly startled awake. He cursed at why someone would leave such a thing here, then shook his head and turned to leave—throughout their construction of the temple, batch after batch of statues with varying expressions had been shipped over to serve as decorations for the temple.
Therefore, being accustomed to statues, Duva assumed in that moment that the statue was merely one of the shipped items that had been inadvertently left behind.
The following day, Duva even went out of his way to remind the foreman, asking him to find someone to haul the heavy statue back.
In Duva’s diary, he specifically recorded that after he mentioned this matter, the foreman stared at him with immense surprise and asked a question that left a deep impression on Duva.
“Mr. Duva, so, did you step into that shadow behind the temple?”
Duva shook his head in a bewildered yet certain manner.
Thereupon, the foreman clapped him on the shoulder with a smile and said, “Congratulations, Mr. Duva. You ought to eat more and work less today.”
Duva entirely failed to comprehend the foreman’s meaning, nor did he know what danger he had encountered. He recorded the incident in his diary and noted with considerable annoyance that “those upper-class folks just refuse to explain things clearly.”
Centuries later, as Siles read this brief tale concealed within the gaps of time, he couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief for Duva, while also generating further associations.
If Duva had truly stepped into the shadow behind the temple, what would have happened to him? Would he have become a similar statue, or would something else terrifying have occurred?
And where did that statue originate from…? Shadows and statues certainly possessed a highly obvious connection, but if humans could truly be transformed into statues so easily, how could only a single statue appear during the entire construction of the temple?
Could it be that those statues being shipped over…
As Siles was lost in thought, a sudden, chaotic commotion erupted outside.
Thud, thud!
At this exact moment, someone pounded forcefully on the door of the compartment Siles was in.
