“What’s wrong?” Quinton noticed his gaze.
Siles didn’t hide his thoughts. He pointed at the necklace around Quinton’s neck and said, “I once read in a book that that is Ligadia’s amulet?”
“Oh… oh, yes.” Quinton looked momentarily uncomfortable, but then naturally lifted the pendant. Seeming to feel that his posture didn’t give Siles a clear view, he reached behind his neck, unclasped the necklace, and handed it directly to Siles.
Siles took it, looking down at it. He didn’t know if it was Quinton’s body heat or if the material of the necklace was simply unique, but the black pendant still retained a comforting warmth.
It was indeed the symbol of Ligadia’s amulet, meant to bless strangers embarking on journeys.
“It’s a souvenir I brought from Kansas,” Quinton said.
“It looks very ancient,” Siles commented objectively.
“Of course, it could be said to be a Time Trace.” Quinton stood there with his arms crossed, his gaze fixed steadily on Siles. “It comes with an attached ritual: [Safe Travels].”
Siles was slightly startled and asked in confusion, “What kind of ritual is this?”
“An ancient ritual passed down through generations,” Quinton said in a low voice. “If you constantly wear this necklace during your journey, it guarantees safe travels and keeps you from danger.”
Siles understood, but then suddenly realized an issue: “Constantly?”
He shook the necklace in his hand, meaning: Then why did you just take it off?
Quinton laughed. He stepped closer to Siles and said, “You reminded me. Perhaps giving this necklace to you is the better choice.”
Siles was mildly shocked. “This isn’t very…”
“Reasonable?” Quinton thought for a moment. “But it’s my property. I always have the right to handle my own things, don’t I?”
Siles looked at him in silence, finally saying tactfully, “I mean, Quinton, you don’t need to go this far.”
Quinton paused, his eyes narrowing. Those emerald-green eyes quietly stared at Siles. After a moment, he said, “I just believe it’s necessary between friends—to use every means to ensure your safety.”
Siles felt a slight headache. On one hand, he wanted to say he wasn’t quite that fragile; on the other hand, he felt he could hardly persuade Quinton, given Quinton’s stubbornly strange temper.
“This is a personal item,” Siles finally said frankly. “I am not really accustomed to touching others’ personal items.”
He handed the necklace back to Quinton.
Quinton was visibly stunned. He stood there, frozen, and suddenly a very obvious sense of awkwardness radiated from him. After a moment, he took the necklace from Siles’s hand and shoved it casually into his pocket.
He said dryly, “I-I didn’t think… I mean… I didn’t expect you to mind this.”
Siles casually set his milk glass down, put on his coat, and said, “I just have a bit of a quirk about personal boundaries, Quinton. Have your previous companions never had such habits?”
“I didn’t have companions before.” Quinton first corrected that point. “So, I haven’t really interacted with people as a friend. I wanted to do everything I could for you—but I didn’t anticipate the things you would mind. I… I’m sorry.”
“You don’t need to apologize,” Siles said simply. “Of course, Quinton, I also don’t think you need to be… so overly attentive. I am already very grateful to you.”
Quinton looked as if he wanted to say something else. Finally, he gazed at Siles and muttered, “Alright—alright. I understand, Professor Noel.”
That vivid sense of sarcasm had returned to him.
He said, “You feel we don’t need to be so close, is that it?”
Siles rubbed his temples as he looked at him, finally shaking his head. “Quinton, exactly how old are you?”
Quinton blinked. “…Thirty. I should be.”
“Oh, well, I think your behavior is far more childish than your age,” Siles evaluated him, then smiled. “Alright, Quinton. We should go eat breakfast.”
Quinton looked at him gloomily, but eventually agreed.
As they went downstairs, Siles asked, “So, Kansas seems to have a lot of… things related to Ligadia?”
“Why do you say that?” Quinton asked.
“I mentioned before that I need to write a paper. It’s an academic requirement at Lamifa University,” Siles explained.
“It seems university professors don’t have it easy either…” Quinton replied immediately.
“Indeed,” Siles said. “Anyway, the research topic I chose this year is the wandering bards of the Sardinian Empire… well, mainly the group that used to be in Kansas City. I’ve been focusing on the poet Aldous Gershwin.”
Quinton had wanted to say something, but after being interrupted, he had intended to just continue his own topic. However, upon hearing Siles’s subsequent words, Quinton immediately froze, a highly complex emotion surging in his eyes.
They happened to be taking a turn on the stairs, so Siles didn’t catch Quinton’s expression. Had he seen it, he might have retracted his evaluation of Quinton as “childish.”
In that moment, this explorer—who had initially seemed powerful and mysterious, then childish and stubborn—emanated a deep, almost terrifying glint in his eyes.
He stared fixedly at Siles, then concealed the look before Siles could notice.
“Is that so?” he said softly.
“I believe they might have been believers of Ligadia…” Siles paused here. “However, I haven’t found any direct evidence. It might just be that many strangers who embark on journeys can’t help but worship Ligadia.
“I can’t determine if these wandering bards’ faith in Ligadia was a two-way street. Whether they ever received a response from Ligadia… that’s a different matter altogether.
“I am merely researching their footprints in the literary field, as well as the extent of Ligadia’s influence on this literature.”
Siles spoke at length, but didn’t get a response from Quinton. He turned his head and happened to see Quinton in deep thought. Startled, he asked, “What is it?”
“It’s very coincidental,” Quinton said. “My necklace… seems to have come from that group of wandering bards. The person who passed it on to me said so. Perhaps this could serve as circumstantial evidence of their faith in Ligadia.”
Siles wondered if a merchant had said that. But given Quinton’s certainty, perhaps it was someone close to him.
“But…” Siles said with a touch of surprise, “doesn’t that mean this necklace has a history of at least six hundred years?”
Quinton shrugged, seemingly indifferent to its age. “It’s a Time Trace, I told you. So, of course it’s quite ancient.”
Siles nodded.
“Regarding those wandering bards… the ones you’re studying. Maybe I can help you look for related information later,” Quinton added.
Siles looked at him in surprise and finally thanked him.
“Alright, stop thanking me,” Quinton said. “I feel like you’re thanking me every single day.”
Siles couldn’t help but smile faintly.
They arrived at the dining hall. The room was still sparsely populated; this had been the case every time they visited the dining room during their two-day stay at Old John’s inn.
Siles had just drunk a small glass of hot milk, so he just grabbed some bread to nibble on. Quinton had eaten breakfast long ago and sat across from Siles, looking profoundly bored.
Siles asked, “Where are the doctor and Alva?”
“Oh,” Quinton said nonchalantly. “They’ve already headed out. They plan to properly explore Biedel City this morning.”
Siles stopped eating. Why didn’t Quinton tell me this earlier? If he had known, he wouldn’t have been moving at such a leisurely pace. He had assumed his two companions simply hadn’t woken up yet.
Resting his cheek on his hand, Quinton watched Siles with intense focus, as if looking at something novel. He asked, “What do you plan to do this morning? Explore Biedel City?”
Siles thought for a moment, then shook his head. “No, I plan to organize some information and wait for news from Jerome Lanmere.”
“Just as I thought, Professor Noel,” Quinton said, almost teasingly. “Perhaps we can find a quiet place.”
Ultimately, they returned to Siles’s room.
Siles realized that even though Quinton wasn’t his roommate these past two days, Quinton still frequently appeared in his room. But Siles didn’t quite know how to bring it up.
He was used to interacting with mature, considerate friends, and Quinton was the exact opposite of those two words. Furthermore, Quinton’s brand of ‘consideration’ was a bit too much for Siles to handle.
He meant… they were just friends! Friends!
Could Quinton please stop acting with this strange attitude—as if there’s some ambiguous relationship between us! Siles thought, slightly annoyed.
Siles didn’t like men, or women. The premise of him getting along well with humans was strictly based on friendship. He had never considered romance, marriage, or anything of the sort.
But Quinton carried a confident audacity, as if taking off a intimately worn necklace and hanging it around Siles’s neck wasn’t a big deal at all.
Yet he didn’t treat everyone this way. Siles didn’t even understand how he and Quinton had become so unexpectedly close.
…Our companions definitely bear a lot of the blame, Siles concluded.
Alva was a lively young man visiting the Ashless Lands for the first time. He had joined their journey because of Dr. Chester, and the doctor was a responsible, good man.
The doctor had initially worried Siles would face danger in the Ashless Lands, but after Quinton appeared, he tossed this “trouble” to Quinton, focusing his own attention on Alva’s safety.
Invisibly, Siles became bound to Quinton. And their companions tacitly accepted it.
But occasionally, while interacting with Quinton, Siles felt a subtle sense of unease. This unease might have been hiding in his heart since the very first time he met Quinton.
…Quinton found out his secret.
This fact kept nagging at Siles. Of course, it wasn’t exactly Quinton’s fault. But Siles inevitably felt bothered by it.
As they sat down on the sofa, Siles couldn’t help but sigh inwardly.
Forget it, he thought. Perhaps Quinton himself had no such awareness. It was just Siles’s habit of overthinking and analyzing. Maintaining the status quo might not be a bad thing; after all, he couldn’t stay in the Ashless Lands forever.
He and Quinton were ultimately not on the same path. They could maintain a friendship and keep in touch, but eventually, they would embark on their respective journeys toward their own destinations in life.
…Or so Siles thought at the time.
Thus, when he finally spoke, his heart was already calm.
“Perhaps we should analyze all this from the perspective of the masterminds behind the scenes,” he said. “Assuming there is a group of Huddokar’s believers who have always been active in the shadows of the Ashless Lands.”
Quinton nodded, adding, “Then, from that perspective, just how long have they existed?”
Siles pondered for a moment, then chose his words carefully. “‘The Non-existent City’… I mentioned my two friends to you before. Their names are Alfonso and Emmanuel.
“Emmanuel’s older brother, Isherwood, obtained information related to ‘The Non-existent City’ at Hales House, and then subsequently disappeared. That happened ten years ago.
“Last year, also at Hales House, rumors of a treasure map surfaced. This was the experience of the travelogue’s owner I mentioned, Fredman. By coincidence, he acquired that treasure map, and was severely injured afterward.
“Emmanuel believes that was the information related to his brother’s disappearance. Therefore, the two of them came to the Ashless Lands, attempting to retrace the circumstances of Isherwood’s disappearance.”
Quinton understood. “That means, this group has been active ever since the rumor of ‘The Non-existent City’ began.” He added, slightly surprised, “That would be several hundred years!”
Siles nodded.
“The Non-existent City.” He had heard news related to this rumor from countless people.
Alfonso Carte, Emmanuel, Bertram Finn, the noblewoman, unnamed explorers… everyone provided a piece of the puzzle.
According to rumor, The Non-existent City was a treasure legend that emerged alongside the development of the Ashless Lands. Due to the carelessness of the original cartographers, a verifiable error remained on all surviving maps.
A city was neglected by the map, becoming “non-existent.”
As the Ashless Lands were developed and explored, its territory expanded, and humanity discovered more and more areas. Simultaneously, the mist constantly altered the ecosystem, leading to frequent map updates. Consequently, this error became increasingly difficult to spot.
Even if someone did find the city missing from the map, like Alfonso and Emmanuel, they determined—for reasons Siles didn’t yet know—that it was not the fabled “Non-existent City.”
Perhaps they didn’t find Isherwood’s body there, or perhaps the tribal ruins Alfonso described didn’t match the rumors of “The Non-existent City.”
In short, people used to be obsessed with this legend for a long time; but, as more explorers died during their adventures, people slowly began to view it as an unsolvable mystery.
However, in recent years, as the mist dissipated and more land was exposed, people once again began pursuing “The Non-existent City.”
…And were certain people secretly fanning the flames behind all this?
Siles said thoughtfully, “Even though the mist has been clearing recently, the Ashless Lands still has countless rumors and half-truths, right?”
“Yes,” Quinton replied.
“So, why ‘The Non-existent City’ in particular?” Siles murmured. “And why did it suddenly become popular again at this exact moment?”
Quinton nodded slowly, shifting his posture as he continued to watch Siles. “You have a point. ‘The Non-existent City’ is probably the most widely circulated and oldest legend in all of the Ashless Lands.”
Siles said, “But in the past decade, it hasn’t just been rumors of ‘The Non-existent City’ coming out of the various relay stations. This means the group realized people’s enthusiasm for it was waning.
“So, they introduced other treasure maps and mysterious charts into the public eye to keep pushing them to… go to their deaths. And after a few years, when a new batch of explorers arrives in the Ashless Lands, they push ‘The Non-existent City’ back to the forefront.”
Quinton nodded. “Indeed. This year at Hales House, another explorer appeared claiming to have found a map far older than current versions, believing it could be used to find ‘The Non-existent City’.”
“I heard about that too,” Siles said.
He had heard it from the noblewoman. At the time, he didn’t know where that explorer was. It was only later, when Alfonso wrote a letter detailing their discoveries at Hales House, that Siles learned it happened there as well.
He wondered if Alfonso and Emmanuel had found the survivor from Isherwood’s expedition, or the explorer who claimed to possess the older map.
Quinton summarized, “So, the core of their scheme is ‘The Non-existent City’. And this so-called ‘Non-existent City’ is very likely an architectural site connected to Huddokar’s temple.”
Siles agreed with this assessment.
They reached this conclusion based on their current information.
Firstly, for the past ten years, news regarding “The Non-existent City” had continuously surfaced. However, the rumor had been circulating for hundreds of years; logically, there shouldn’t be so much new information appearing now.
If it could be found, it had been hundreds of years—how could people not have found it? If it couldn’t be found, people should have lost interest long ago and turned to other mysteries and ruins.
The fact that news of this ancient rumor kept surfacing clearly meant someone was manipulating things from behind the scenes, creating something out of nothing.
Secondly, after people gradually lost interest in “The Non-existent City,” other “map-related” rumors took over, continuing to push explorers to adventure and discover.
But judging from the two incidents Siles and Quinton knew of, both pointed to locations related to Huddokar.
Fredman: He obtained a treasure map at Hales House and died from severe injuries. Before he died, he told the merchant Jerome Lanmere that he saw “statues” in that place.
The expedition team Quinton had previously traveled with: They acquired a map from Hales House. This incident was even more obvious; the map rumors were drawn up by Huddokar’s believers, and they ultimately found the temple built by those very believers.
And their fate was much more direct: everyone turned into statues.
Finally, reasoning backward, why did this group of hidden Old God followers spend hundreds of years hoping people would search for “The Non-existent City”? It clearly wasn’t a genuine treasure trove.
Statues, statues, statues.
Siles said thoughtfully, “They turned those explorers into statues, almost like a… sacrifice?”
“A prolonged sacrifice,” Quinton said. “Are they trying to awaken Huddokar?”
Siles pondered for a moment, then suddenly brought up a quote:
“I erect statues for my god; my god strips away death for me.”
“Is that what the professor you mentioned discovered?” Quinton asked.
“You could say that,” Siles said. “I checked his borrowing records at Lamifa University and found a book. That book contained the manuscript of a Huddokar believer, which mentioned this exact phrase.”
Quinton nodded.
“I had always been focusing on the second half of that sentence,” Siles mused. “I thought it was… Huddokar’s believers preparing for their afterlife, or that Huddokar was bestowing power upon them.”
“…Preparing for their afterlife.” This suddenly amused Quinton. “Professor, that’s very interesting. It has quite a symbolic meaning.”
Siles was taken aback, not understanding why he was laughing. He gave him a strange look and continued his train of thought: “But the first half… ‘I erect statues for my god.’ This implies that turning into a statue is actually an offering to Huddokar.
“In other words, it is an act to please Huddokar.”
…Please, Siles thought.
In the process of crafting potions for REVELATORS, there was also a step involving ‘pleasing’. Of course, when Siles observed Grenfell making a potion, he hadn’t noticed Grenfell doing anything specific to please anyone. Perhaps it was one of the ingredients placed in the crucible.
Regardless, potion makers pleased AntinAM, and AntinAM bestowed the power of time upon the potion.
It was like a miraculous equivalent exchange, completely in line with the concept of alchemy—even though alchemy didn’t exist in this world.
In the dual dynamic of believer and deity, the believer pleases the deity, and the deity responds. It functioned as an established rule. Therefore, this group of Old God followers constantly turning people into statues was essentially…
“They are trying to please Huddokar, trying to get Huddokar to respond to them.” Siles’s voice unconsciously lowered. “For hundreds of years, they received no response, so they just continued this behavior.”
Unknowingly, a chill ran down Siles’s spine.
A sacrificial act sustained for hundreds of years was far more terrifying than Greyson Food Company’s sudden attempt to detonate an entire city.
Over these four hundred years, how many explorers had stumbled into such traps? How many had become cold statues, dying in shadows unknown to anyone?
And how many secondary tragedies had been triggered, like those affecting Alfonso, Emmanuel, and Dr. Chester?
Siles paused for a moment, then sighed softly.
“It seems we’ve figured out their goal,” Quinton asked. “What do you think?”
“What do I think?” Siles considered for a moment. “Perhaps we need to hurry up even more.”
Quinton gave him a peculiar look and said, “You truly are a kind person, Siles.”
Siles was startled and looked up at him.
“I wasn’t particularly moved by it,” Quinton said somewhat flatly, his attitude almost casual. “Siles, perhaps you don’t realize what the atmosphere of the entire Ashless Lands is like.
“Of course, those Old God followers are detestable and deserve to die. But aside from them, the Ashless Lands harbor endless risks. You really don’t need to sympathize too much with those explorers.
“In a sense, they died for their own greed for money and wealth.”
“Your point is certainly valid,” Siles said. “It’s just that, my perspective is… human hearts cannot withstand such testing.”
Quinton paused, looking at him with what could be described as confusion.
“People will naturally indulge in their desire for money, wealth, treasure, and fame. It’s human nature, I can’t harshly criticize it,” Siles said quietly. “But if no one was maliciously pulling the strings, they might have simply ended their lives during an ordinary existence.
“Rather than dying as cold, despairing statues. That was a deviation in their fate. They walked onto an incorrect path, but they were maliciously pushed onto it by others.
“I can’t say they were completely innocent; they did succumb to the greed in their hearts, after all. But they didn’t necessarily deserve to die.”
Quinton stared at him in silence. Finally, he suddenly laughed. “I misspoke, Siles.”
Siles looked at him in confusion.
“You are a kind-hearted person,” Quinton said softly. “You shouldn’t have come to the Ashless Lands. But perhaps, the Ashless Lands needs someone like you. I like this quality of yours.”
Siles hesitated for a second, lowering his gaze somewhat embarrassedly. He thought this was merely the one-sided evaluation of a man who once lived in a peaceful world, judging this chaotic and dangerous one. It wasn’t as if he had actually done anything.
Quinton finally said, “I’m very glad… Siles. I am very glad I met you.”
After a bit more conversation, Siles and Quinton changed the subject.
…In truth, Siles didn’t really want to discuss whether he was kind or not with Quinton. It was just his personality.
Anyway, Siles shifted the topic. “Based on this, where do you think those Old God followers are most likely hiding?”
“It’s hard to say,” Quinton cooperated. “Perhaps in some relay station, perhaps in some temple. Or perhaps, right in the so-called ‘Non-existent City’.”
Siles nodded thoughtfully.
They didn’t continue discussing the matter further.
Siles said, “We ultimately need more information. Perhaps once we reunite with Alfonso and the others, we can get some of the latest news. That might be tonight.”
Quinton nodded in agreement.
Siles took the map out of his bag—the Barnett version. This version still appeared to be the most complete. He and Quinton discussed how long it would take to travel to Hales House.
Naturally, they also brought up the map that falsely used the name Quinton Praia.
Quinton looked at the fake map critically, then reluctantly admitted there weren’t actually any errors on it. But—he said—that was absolutely no reason to tolerate such behavior.
Siles naturally agreed. No matter what, it infringed upon Quinton’s reputation.
Unfortunately, they had no way of tracking down the merchant who sold it.
Quinton did, however, educate Siles on several rituals for finding people and objects. Furthermore, he brought up another issue: luggage when traveling.
Explorers like Quinton, despite being powerful REVELATORS, weren’t omnipotent. Carrying Time Traces around was a significant burden, especially for explorers who prioritized mobility.
Quinton said that when he usually traveled, he would only carry three to five Time Traces on him—covering functions like offense, defense, confirming directions, maintaining sanity, etc. The rest would be left at home.
Some explorers might even only carry one or two, buying and discarding others as needed. “The Ashless Lands has a ridiculous amount of Time Traces anyway,” Quinton noted.
This meant that even powerful REVELATORS couldn’t unleash one hundred percent of their power on the road.
Siles then brought up his previous theory with great interest—could one prepare Time Traces for their future self in advance? But that brought up a similar problem: they couldn’t possibly know what would happen in the future or what rituals would be needed.
Quinton nodded in agreement and said, “Perhaps only the gods know the developmental trajectory of fate.”
These words stirred a slight ripple in Siles’s heart.
Fate—as far as he knew, a god related to fate had never appeared in the Fisher World.
Even if AntinAM’s divine domain of the Past and History sounded somewhat related to fate, that was, after all, only the past. What about the present and future? Since time was missing a piece, it certainly couldn’t be called fate.
This thought once again led Siles back to his dice. Yes, of course. Did they symbolize fate?
Through the dice, Siles could determine someone’s future development. It could almost be considered a method of “precognition.” But, ultimately, why did the dice appear by his side?
Why did he become the Keeper of Secrets for this world?
Siles was utterly baffled by this, and he had absolutely no starting point to solve the riddle.
As time passed, he rarely even bothered to think about it. Only occasionally, when thinking of fate or AntinAM, would the hidden confusion in his heart be triggered once more.
But he didn’t want to torture his brain with an unsolvable puzzle.
Instead, he asked Quinton, “Your home? Is it in Kansas?”
“Yes,” Quinton said. “If there’s an opportunity, perhaps you can travel to Kansas sometime.”
Siles nodded with a hint of interest. After all, he had already met quite a few people from Kansas. He was somewhat curious about that legendary, chaotic nation.
Around ten o’clock in the morning, Dr. Chester and Alva Gillini returned. They had bought quite a few things, mostly Alva. He said he was going to mail them back home as souvenirs.
The two of them had returned to pick up the items they purchased yesterday so they could take everything together to the carriage agency and mail them out.
When they came back, Alva was sweating profusely.
They gathered in Siles’s room.
Alva said, “It’s so hot! Now I finally understand this terrifying desert weather.”
Chester smiled and said, “But, Alva, I’m afraid you are thoroughly enjoying this journey as well.”
Alva’s smile was completely unclouded. He said, “Yeah. I really am. Lamifa City and Biedel City are entirely different. Some things you can never understand or feel just by looking at the symbols for city distributions, mountains, and rivers on a map.”
This didn’t sound like something Alva would say, causing the other three to give him a strange look.
Quinton was even more direct: “Has the young man actually gained some experience in the Ashless Lands?”
Alva boldly rolled his eyes at Quinton and said, “Alright, alright… I just meant that seeing the map reminded me of things at home…
“Speaking of maps, I just realized that the three of you have all shared secrets, but I haven’t yet.”
The other three were stunned.
Secrets, indeed. Siles with Hales House, Quinton with the temple ruins, Chester with the archaeological expedition. They had all more or less mentioned their connections to the Ashless Lands.
But… Alva?
They all thought Alva was just young and vigorous, wildly curious about the Ashless Lands, which was why he decided to explore despite his family’s objections. But now, it seemed there was a hidden motive behind Alva’s presence as well?
Siles, who was already mentally prepared for this, simply looked at Alva with mild curiosity, waiting for the young man’s reason.
Everyone was looking at Alva, which seemed to make him a bit proud. He coughed, then pointed at the Barnett version of the map sitting on the coffee table.
He said, “Barnett—was my ancestor.”
“Huh?” Chester looked at the Barnett map in surprise, then at Alva. “But isn’t your last name Gillini?”
“Ah… about that…” Alva scratched his head, a little embarrassed.
Siles said, “I’ve heard this story… Alva?”
“It’s fine, it’s fine. Actually, anyone who bought the Barnett map should have heard it,” Alva said. “My ancestors… let’s just call them Grandfather and Grandmother for now.
“Grandfather Barnett was deeply fascinated by the Ashless Lands, which is why he drew this map. For the sake of this map, he practically abandoned his wife and child. Grandmother Corinna was extremely dissatisfied with this, and eventually resolved to separate from Grandfather, despite his endless pleading.
“Anyway, their child’s surname was changed to my Grandmother’s maiden name, which is Gillini. So down to my generation, my surname is also Gillini.
“But in reality, we all know we have a Grandfather Barnett in our ancestry. The printing factory in our family was specially opened back when my grandmother still supported my grandfather’s career, specifically to print the Barnett maps.
“I’ve always been able to get my hands on all sorts of maps—Lamifa City’s, the Duchy of Konst’s, and occasionally, when the adults weren’t looking, I’d peek at maps of the Ashless Lands. Cartography and printing have always been our family’s primary business.
“This tradition stems entirely from Grandfather Barnett and Grandmother Corinna. It’s just that… in the end, they fell out.”
Alva shook his head somewhat dejectedly.
After a moment, he added, “That’s why my family was so opposed to me coming to the Ashless Lands, and why they wouldn’t let me come into contact with any news about it. Because they believe this place is cursed, that it can even destroy families.
“But it’s been several hundred years, and eventually, my parents agreed to let me come to the Ashless Lands. However, they warned me never to be like Grandfather Barnett back then… drowning in the mysteries, wealth, and mist of the Ashless Lands.
“…Ultimately, the entire world does not operate on the same rules as the Ashless Lands.”
As he spoke, he slowly fell silent, looking as if the experiences of his past few days in the Ashless Lands had finally made him care and understand.
Siles also thought of the topic he had just discussed with Quinton, and of the past experiences of Dr. Chester, who was sitting right there.
The Ashless Lands. It was full of mysteries and treasure, but also full of tragedies and death. People didn’t necessarily understand the latter, but were already obsessed with the former.
He sighed softly.
Seeing the atmosphere grow heavy, Dr. Chester said, “Alright, those things are in the past. We must always look forward.”
Alva was the first to recover. He said, “That’s right! We can figure all of this out! Believe in yourselves!”
Siles couldn’t help but smile at the young man’s lively tone.
Jerome Lanmere hadn’t arrived yet, so the four of them discussed going to the dining room to eat while waiting for him.
However, just as they were preparing to head downstairs, they suddenly heard a heart-wrenching wail coming from below. Alva rushed curiously to the balcony and peeked over.
After a moment, he suddenly stood straight up, turned his head, and said dryly, “It’s that… Joseph. He’s crying loudly at the entrance of the inn.”
They all remained silent for a moment.
Siles sighed and whispered, “It seems that the statue of the woman really was Lila.”
Chester said in deep distress, “Why exactly… did Lila turn into a statue?”
Ten minutes later, they met the merchant Jerome Lanmere. He was still in the first-floor parlor.
Lanmere wore an almost haggard expression, his eyes bloodshot, looking as if he hadn’t slept a wink all night.
Siles asked, “How is it?”
Lanmere scrubbed his face with his hands and said, “I’m afraid you’ve already heard… Joseph’s crying. That woman statue is Lila. As for why she turned into a statue…”
Siles looked at him.
“…Joseph said his mental state had improved quite a bit recently, so Lila took the initiative to find him a job so they could live a normal life. Joseph is uneducated, and his mind was ultimately subjected to some pollution, so Lila planned to have him work as an ordinary laborer…
“Perhaps because of this, Lila came into contact with those… workers who were about to become statues. What exactly they discussed, we have no way of knowing now, but I fear this is the only explanation.”
Lanmere couldn’t help but sigh.
The rest of them fell into silence.
“Mr. Noel,” Lanmere said suddenly, “perhaps I too am about to become a statue. But no matter what, I hope you can uncover the truth—the truth will be enough to console the dead.”
Siles was silent for a moment, then nodded earnestly, whispering, “I will.”
Lanmere then said, “Perhaps you should go eat a meal, and then prepare to set out. I have already prepared horses for you, and a guide is waiting for you at the stables.”
“Thank you, Lanmere,” Siles said. “Are you going to head to Hales House with us?”
“No, I don’t plan on going,” Lanmere said, suddenly gritting his teeth. “I am going to thoroughly research certain rumors and news about the Ashless Lands over the past few centuries, as well as those archaeological ruins. Once I find something, I will have someone deliver a letter to you.”
It was unclear what his current anger was based on—sympathy? Or frustration that his business had been disrupted? Regardless, it was a genuine anger. And this anger could aid Siles and his companions’ actions.
Siles couldn’t evaluate Lanmere’s personality or character, but at the very least, the great merchant was helping them right now.
So, Siles thanked him.
After eating lunch, they packed their belongings and headed to the stables to find the horses and guide Lanmere had arranged for them.
