The guide arranged by Jerome Lanmere was an ordinary-looking woman who introduced herself as Mary.
She had a very cheerful personality and wore her hair in beautiful braided plaits. Siles noticed that she had heavy calluses on her hands, though he didn’t know the reason why.
The guide greeted them warmly and stated her identity. She was a caravan guide employed by Jerome Lanmere and knew the roads of the Ashless Lands very well.
Since Jerome Lanmere had been busy with other matters recently, and the caravan had been staying idle in Biedel City, she was dispatched to act as a guide for Siles and the others. She would take them to the House of Hales as quickly as possible and help them search for clues there.
Mary quickly led their horses out of the stable and handed them over.
It was evident that although Alva and Chester, who had lived in the city year-round, knew how to ride, their horsemanship was unrefined. However, it would be fine for a journey.
Siles looked at the horses with a slight touch of surprise.
Compared to the horses in Lamifa City, which closely resembled the horses on Earth, the horses of the Ashless Lands appeared incredibly strong, tall, and possessed far more magnificent coats, looking almost like some kind of mythical creatures.
He particularly noticed that where these four horses should have had manes, they now grew something resembling feathers.
He couldn’t help but frown slightly.
Noticing Siles’s gaze, the guide Mary introduced, “Sir, you must be very curious as to why the horses in the Ashless Lands have feathers. We call this kind of horse a Plumed Horse.”
Alva asked curiously from the side, “Why?”
Mary smiled slightly and said, “Because once, a horse ate a birdman. It devoured his lineage. Thus, that horse’s descendants also obtained feathers, along with a weight-bearing capacity and endurance far greater than that of ordinary horses.
“Only the big merchants and powerful adventurer groups in the Ashless Lands possess these Plumed Horses. Normally, we use them to transport goods, or to handle important business if we happen to miss the train schedule.”
Alva came to a sudden realization.
Chester murmured with a hint of surprise, “So even animals…”
The smile on Mary’s face remained unchanged as she said, “This isn’t rare, gentlemen. The animals of the Ashless Lands are much like humans; the smarter an animal is, the more easily it is affected by spiritual contamination.”
She turned her head and gently stroked the Plumed Horse’s coat, and the horse tenderly nuzzled her hand with its head.
Siles stared blankly at this highly intelligent Plumed Horse.
After a moment, he said in a low voice, “Perhaps we should depart.”
Mary nodded in agreement. She checked the time and then said, “It is now one o’clock in the afternoon. Perhaps we can arrive at the House of Hales before nine o’clock tonight. Of course, we might only be able to rest once or twice along the way.”
“That’s nothing!” Alva said excitedly. “Let’s gallop across the desert of the Ashless Lands!”
Of course, they first had to resolve the issue regarding Siles and Quinton.
The horse assigned to the two of them was clearly slightly stronger than the other Plumed Horses. Quinton stood in front of the horse with great interest, stroking its plumed mane with his hand to greet it.
Mary probably assumed Siles was a complete novice who had never touched a horse before—which was practically the case—so she was telling him some very basic information, such as not standing behind the horse and not intentionally startling it.
Siles listened humbly and quietly, finally saying in a low voice, “I understand.”
Quinton waved his hand at Siles and said to Mary, “Alright, Lady Guide, I can actually handle the basics for him. We need to depart early.”
Mary looked at him, nodded, and said, “I’ll leave it to you, Mr. Quinton.”
Ever since Alva had started using that form of address, the others followed suit and used “Mr. Quinton” as well. They didn’t seem comfortable calling Quinton directly by his name.
Quinton had already swung himself onto the horse. The back seat of the double saddle was empty. He looked at Siles and extended his hand: “Come.”
Siles hesitated for only a fraction of a second before taking his hand without a second thought. He used the leverage to sit onto the saddle, feeling his body pressed a bit too closely against Quinton’s.
He suddenly began to feel glad that it was early winter and they were already wearing relatively heavy coats.
Quinton’s voice was low: “Hold onto my waist, Siles.” He paused and immediately added, “This isn’t to say how attentive I am, but rather a practical…”
He suddenly stopped.
Siles reached out and wrapped his arms around Quinton’s waist. Quinton could feel Siles’s body temperature through almost his entire back, along with that very crisp, clear scent.
He fell silent for a moment.
Siles asked in confusion, “Quinton?”
Quinton snapped out of it and suddenly let out a low chuckle, saying, “Hold on tight. It’s time to depart.”
In reality, those thoughts mixed with romance and awkwardness vanished almost immediately. Quinton’s body blocked a significant amount of the cold wind for Siles, but Siles also felt uncomfortable from the jolting.
I underestimated the road conditions of the Ashless Lands, Siles thought with near helplessness.
To maximize time savings, their guide Mary, took them down a rather bumpy path. The desert, the mud, the withered grass, along with the occasional flash of human silhouettes and wild animals, made the entire world seem incredibly empty, leaving only the five of them.
They would occasionally stop to rest for a few minutes, allowing Mary to confirm that they hadn’t taken a wrong turn. At those times, they would dismount and rest for a while.
Siles was not accustomed to this method of travel, which made him grow even more silent.
During one particular dismount, he stood there quietly, gazing at a patch of grayish-black mist on the horizon.
“Are you alright?” Quinton walked over to his side and asked.
Siles snapped out of it and said, “I’m fine.”
“You might not be used to traveling by horse,” Quinton said. “In fact, not all explorers know how to ride, or need to. It’s just that our schedule this time is rather rushed.”
“I understand,” Siles said. He paused for a moment and then said, “It’s just that I thought of the future of this world. Perhaps I can guess one of the possibilities.”
“Guess?”
Siles suddenly let out a soft laugh and said, “Perhaps I know that kind of future. Regarding the revolution in modes of transportation.”
Just like Earth. Just like his home planet. This world and that world were so similar. Yet he knew these two worlds were entirely different.
“Do you have a concept in mind?”
“Mechanical vehicles driven by stardust as an energy source,” Siles said. “Also, it’s said that the Duchy of Konst and other nations are teaming up to deeply develop the Ashless Lands. Perhaps they will establish a developed railway network in Glaston as well.”
Quinton shrugged and said casually, “Then let’s hope this world moves toward that future—the future you imagine.”
Siles was slightly startled and subconsciously asked, “Why?”
“On one hand, I think vehicles are more convenient than horses.” Quinton’s emerald-green eyes stared at Siles through the dense air of the overcast day. “On the other hand, if destiny aligns with your thoughts and wishes—that might not be a bad thing.
“As I’ve said, I think it’s acceptable for fate to be controlled by humans. After all, I am human.”
Siles remained quiet for a moment, finally shaking his head: “Look at what we are talking about.”
The topic slipped away lightly from their hands just like that.
The sky gradually darkened. By evening, the twilight glow made the clouds on the horizon look like a spreading red mist, permeating a particularly heavy atmosphere.
They also took a relatively long rest at this time, about half an hour, to eat something.
Mary lit a campfire. The firelight illuminated their faces, bringing a faint brightness to the increasingly dark sky.
We ought to chat about something, someone probably thought.
Thus, Dr. Chester asked, “Ms. Mary, could you introduce the destination we are about to arrive at?”
“The House of Hales?”
The firelight danced across Mary’s face.
She seemed to ponder for a moment before saying, “This relay station is the hub of the southeastern side of the Ashless Lands, so to speak. When people first began to explore the Ashless Lands, they started from the border between the Duchy of Konst and the Duchy of Kansas.”
“However, the House of Hales appeared even before then. Rumor has it that this was a relay station used for resting by a great merchant of the Age of Silence when he traveled, and its architecture has been preserved to this day, becoming the prototype for the House of Hales.”
“That merchant… no one knows his name. However, some people speculate that his name was ‘Hales.’ Of course, there is no evidence to speak of for this sort of thing.”
“A great merchant?” Siles learned this piece of information with surprise.
Mary nodded.
Siles fell into deep thought.
Both he and Quinton believed that the House of Hales was inextricably linked to Hoodoka, but why was it now connected to a merchant? A great merchant of the Age of Silence…
Mary continued, “I once heard people who permanently reside in the House of Hales say that stories related to Menavaca circulate in the nearby villages. It is said that Menavaca fell near there, and every year some merchants come to offer sacrifices.
“…Normal sacrifices, of course. As far as I’m concerned, the believers of Menavaca are perhaps the most harmless among all followers of the old gods. After all, they are just merchants whose minds are entirely filled with making money.”
Mary shrugged, speaking with a hint of a joke. The others all laughed as well, carrying a natural contempt and rejection toward merchants. Most people of this era possessed such thoughts; even Alva laughed quite brainlessly.
Siles remained silent, quietly watching the dancing campfire. He suddenly realized that walking amidst the most central enigmas of this world was a completely opposite experience and feeling compared to living in Lamifa City.
He couldn’t say how well he understood this world right now. But he could always generate this feeling: at least he understood a certain facet of this world. That facet might be the closest to, yet furthest from, actual life in this world.
He sighed in his heart.
As for the enigma of the House of Hales, after they set off again, Siles pondered over it amidst the heavy night as well.
If that rumor—that Menavaca fell near the House of Hales—was true, what did it mean?
Last night, he had read The Land Forgotten by the World. The book mentioned that Tauohetia, the former capital of the Sardinian Empire, was located on the southeastern side of the Ashless Lands—in other words, the area of the House of Hales.
The demise of Tauohetia stemmed from a mist that suddenly erupted in the center of the city.
The fall of a god and the eruption of mist always shared a connected, accompanying relationship.
…So, the fall of Menavaca indirectly caused the destruction of the Sardinian Empire?
Siles could arrive at such a conclusion based on logical reasoning. However, he found himself somewhat unable to comprehend the underlying meaning behind this conclusion no matter what.
Why did Menavaca fall?
However, from certain signs, a connection between the Sardinian Empire and Menavaca could indeed be seen. For instance, historical records regarding the “commercial prosperity” of Kansas City, as well as some analyses of the current chaotic situation in the Duchy of Kansas.
Another example was Thirteen Letters between Madame Debriss and Her Lover. This collection of letters, co-researched by Professor Cabel and Teaching Assistant Mervyn, was authored by Madame Debriss, who was a believer of Menavaca.
According to what the noble lady had said previously, Madame Debriss was even an agent of Menavaca.
Yet her collection of letters with her lover was preserved in the Duchy of Konst. The territory of the Duchy of Konst coincidentally used to be a part of the Sardinian Empire.
Although Siles did not know how Teaching Assistant Mervyn’s family had obtained this collection of letters, regardless, the agent of Menavaca was once again connected to the Sardinian Empire.
…Madame Debriss claimed to have witnessed the fall of Menavaca with her own eyes.
This piece of information seemed to hint at something. Siles, jolting on horseback, thought of it inadvertently.
The next moment, he suddenly understood what exactly this hinted at.
Given the transportation conditions of this world and this era, for Madame Debriss’s correspondence collection to appear in the Duchy of Konst meant that the “fall of Menavaca” she witnessed very likely also occurred within the region of the Duchy of Konst—in other words, the Sardinian Empire.
After all, Menavaca fell in the late Age of Silence—according to the textbooks, if Siles remembered correctly.
At that time, the mist had already covered many places in the Fisher World, one could even say most places.
Technology regressed and the economy was impoverished. Under such circumstances, Siles did not believe that Madame Debriss’s correspondence collection would travel through multiple regions only to end up perfectly preserved in a place far removed from where Menavaca fell.
The House of Hales. Tauohetia. Hoodoka. Menavaca.
The mist.
And… the stardust vein.
…Siles suddenly felt a wave of trepidation.
He did not continue to think further, because he knew that thinking out of thin air like this was meaningless. He could indeed rely on his own rich imagination to link everything together, but those were all hypotheses.
Hypotheses without evidence were completely meaningless.
Siles calmly and resolutely swept those hypotheses into the trash bin of his brain, then let out a soft sigh of relief and looked into the distance.
He thought they were about to arrive at the House of Hales.
After another two hours, Mary suddenly shouted, “Do you see it? That is precisely the main building of the House of Hales!”
The liveliness of the House of Hales surpassed Siles’s imagination.
The main building here looked like a massive tent. That high tent roof could be seen from several hundred meters away. At the top of the tent, dazzling lights illuminated a delicate symbol of a scale with one end tilted down.
The moment he saw that scale, Siles became certain that the House of Hales truly shared an inseparable connection with Menavaca.
Mary introduced from the side, “We call this massive tent the Pavilion, and it is the main building of the House of Hales. It’s the building left behind by the great merchant of the Age of Silence that I mentioned earlier.
“The massive scale at the top of the Pavilion is rumored to be the symbol of Menavaca, and it has now become the symbol of the House of Hales. This relay station is incredibly lively; thousands of people might come and go every day.”
As they drew closer, the surroundings indeed gradually became bustling.
Surrounding the Pavilion, various small tents and some low buildings joined together were scattered all around the House of Hales.
Mary said that those small tents belonged to explorers who came to this place and were unwilling to stay in high-priced inns, so they brought tents to camp; while those buildings were established by people who permanently resided in the House of Hales, and some were built by native tribal residents settled here.
Compared to the desert where Biedel City was located, the House of Hales looked more like it was situated within a wilderness plain. If it were daytime, when people looked as far as the eye could see, they would inevitably only see withered yellow grass nearby.
Whereas at night, they could see almost nothing. the thick darkness felt as if octopus ink had been squirted directly onto their eyes.
But the closer they got to the House of Hales, the brighter everything appeared.
According to Mary, they first went to the low houses, found one of them, and stabled their horses there. They also left their luggage here temporarily. It was said to be one of the properties purchased by Jerome Lanmere here.
Siles looked at this low house with a bit of concentration. Its height was only about two meters. For an ordinary human, although it wouldn’t cause them to bump their heads, it was indeed a bit too low. Perhaps this was a characteristic feature here at the House of Hales?
Chester asked curiously about the price of purchasing property here, and Mary replied casually, “Around tens of thousands of Duke coins, converting it to the currency of the Duchy of Konst.”
They couldn’t help but gasp.
Mary led those four Plumed Horses into the stable and tended to them for a while. They waited for Mary, so they discussed the property prices regarding this matter.
Dr. Chester lamented that he probably wouldn’t be able to afford a house in Lamifa City.
“Are houses in Lamifa City very expensive?” Siles couldn’t help but ask. Because he had also considered purchasing property in Lamifa City.
Although the dormitory at Lamifa University was convenient, it was too small after all. Siles had only stayed for one semester, yet he felt that his belongings—especially books, literature, and reference materials—had already filled the small study.
He really wanted an apartment with an independent large study.
And Dr. Chester clearly knew about the relevant market.
Under Chester’s explanation, Siles gradually came to understand that real estate in Lamifa City was mainly divided into two types: apartments and detached houses. The former was similar to No. 13 Milford Street, and also similar to No. 6 Hayward Street where he currently lived.
Overall, although apartments were cheaper, they only had a few decades of property rights, and their areas were also relatively narrow.
Furthermore, the people living in apartments were always a mixed bag. No one knew whether the neighbor they greeted every day was some terrifying follower of an old god, plotting to awaken the old god amidst endless madness.
Therefore, if one truly wanted to buy a house, apartments were hardly taken into consideration. (“At least this is the case for you, Professor Noel,” Chester specifically reminded him.)
Clearly, a theoretically very decent university professor wouldn’t be well-suited to move into a crude apartment. That might cause Siles’s reputation to align with Professor Cabel’s.
…Even though Siles himself didn’t care about it.
However, apartments indeed did not quite match Siles’s requirements, primarily due to privacy and safety concerns.
Siles should also have the self-awareness now that he was a Revelator; his room stored some materials that couldn’t quite see the light of day. In fact, this was the fundamental reason why Siles wanted to move.
Think about the manuscript of the painter Leon, think about that copy handed to him by the scribe Bart… those were all highly dangerous things.
As for detached houses, according to Chester, that was actually purchasing permanent land from Lamifa City rather than purchasing a house. Therefore, this kind of residence could allow a family to live in it for generations, at least from what it looked like now.
Consequently, the price of this kind of residence naturally remained high.
“Around three thousand Duke coins,” Chester said. “A better one might need five thousand. Residences with prices in the tens of thousands exist as well. However, such prices can only be targeted at those nobles or grand merchants.
“And people of such status would probably choose large mansions in the northern or southern suburbs of Lamifa City, and wouldn’t need to live in the crowded Lamifa City at all.”
Siles nodded in agreement and thanked Chester.
“Are you interested in purchasing property?” Chester asked.
“I have that thought. However, in the short term, I probably can’t gather that much cash,” Siles said. “The dormitory at Lamifa University is still quite good.”
Chester nodded and said, “Indeed so.”
Quinton, who had been listening the entire time, looked at Siles thoughtfully upon hearing this.
Mary came out of the low house, thanked them for their patient waiting, and then led them toward the Pavilion.
Quinton walked to Siles’s side. In the night and the dim and bright lights, Siles couldn’t quite see his expression clearly. However, he did hear Quinton ask, “Are you short on money?”
Siles looked at him with surprise, and then suddenly thought of his conversation with Chester just now, feeling slightly startled. He seemed to understand what Quinton was about to say, so he said, “I’m not exactly short on money, Quinton.”
Quinton was not discouraged; he merely continued, “But you said you can’t afford a house in Lamifa City.”
“…It just takes a bit of time to save up.” Siles felt a touch of helplessness.
Truth be told, he currently still had the dividends from the Greyson Food Company from back then, combined with the money earned from his novel The Rose’s Revenge, which would be more than enough to afford a detached main residence.
However, Siles did not plan to spend that dividend of two thousand Duke coins. He intended to use it on the shop on Dawson Street in West Lamifa City, which could also be said to be used to help those street urchins in West Lamifa City.
Therefore, relying purely on his manuscript fees plus salary, Siles still needed to save up a bit before he could purchase a residence that met his wishes.
Quinton nodded thoughtfully and then said, “I understand.”
Siles looked at him with a bit of suspicion, or perhaps one could say he looked at him like a startled bird. He wanted to know what exactly Quinton understood, but felt that perhaps he was overthinking.
In the end, he didn’t manage to ask his doubt aloud, because at this moment they had already arrived at the front entrance of the Pavilion.
The closer they got, the more the brownish fabric of this massive tent blotted out the sky. By the end, Siles even looked at the tall tent with a bit of shock, unable to imagine how the people of the Age of Silence had managed to construct it back then.
Perhaps this had utilized the assistance of extraordinary power. Perhaps this was just an ordinary enlargement ritual, turning what was originally a low tent into the gargantuan appearance it had today.
The guard at the door lifted one of the fabrics at the entrance and said politely, “Welcome to the House of Hales.”
They walked inside.
Almost as expected, Siles discovered that the interior of the Pavilion did not have just one level, but was divided into three levels. The internal space appeared extremely massive, instantly reminding Siles of the space behind the door at the History Society.
This bustling place was constructed almost entirely out of a marvelous fabric, yet it did not appear fragile in the slightest.
Paths woven from firm, heavy fabric allowed people to walk on them. Different textures and colors of fabric separated different sectors and shops. The fabric doors of some shops were lowered, making them appear quiet. The fabric clearly possessed soundproofing capabilities as well.
Meanwhile, the fabric doors of some shops were rolled up, revealing the scenes inside. Siles spotted taverns, gambling dens, inns, and so forth; this place was clearly very lively, and was a venue for explorers of the Ashless Lands to enjoy themselves.
Different patterns were painted on the fabric doors of the shops, hinting at the goods or services sold inside.
People came and went. Siles spotted peddlers carrying back-baskets, high-spirited merchants, and alert-looking explorers. Of course, there were also some people of unknown identity; they just walked past, carrying the natural tension of the Ashless Lands and an aversion toward outsiders.
Lights of unknown source illuminated the internal space of the Pavilion. Siles checked to confirm, only to find that it originated from the surrounding fabric—glowing fabric! Truly incredible.
Since coming to this world, he hadn’t heard of anything that could self-illuminate, except for…
Alva muttered, “I suspect that the original great merchant was probably a cloth merchant.”
The young man’s whimsical idea made them all smile.
Alva’s words also interrupted Siles’s train of thought. Siles did not think further, merely looking at this wondrous scene thoughtfully.
Mary smiled and said, “There is indeed such a speculation. However, people have no way to verify their guesses.”
The bizarre sight inside the Pavilion kept them from rushing into action. They stood at the edge of the corridor at the entrance, gazing ahead in wonder.
Overall, the interior of the Pavilion was a bit like a space formed by three layers of donuts stacked together, hollow in the center, with a ring of buildings and shops around the perimeter. The place where they entered was precisely the lowest part of the first layer of donuts.
Here, they could directly see the lively performances, juggling, and so forth taking place in the hollow section. That area was packed with countless humans in strange attire, and instances of mutation were by no means rare.
The Pavilion’s ceiling was extremely high and spacious, and most of the upper area was empty. Siles was surprised to see that there was actually a person with wings flying continuously in the upper area.
Mary suddenly said, “The birdman’s wings are growing really well this year. To think he can fly for so long.”
A passing explorer heard Mary’s words and immediately chimed in, saying, “Yes! The previous birdmen were useless after flying for just a few minutes, ptui, those wings were as good as not growing at all. This current one finally looks a bit like a bird.”
Mary nodded with an open smile and said, “I hope this birdman can live a bit longer.”
The tone of their conversation appeared completely casual, as if this was common gossip for all people living in the Ashless Lands. Siles tilted his head up, watching that continuously flying birdman.
Looking from afar, that was a young person stripped completely bare, whose gender couldn’t be discerned, nor could any emotion brought by that lonely flight be seen.
For a split second, Siles felt as if that birdman had broken through the fabric of the Pavilion and flown into the endless high sky. But in the blink of an eye, he realized that the white fabric still firmly constrained the space of the birdman’s flight.
Siles didn’t look anymore. He lowered his eyes and sighed in his heart.
At this moment, he finally thoroughly felt the cold and dark undertone of the Ashless Lands. He could understand why such a situation arose, and could maintain a cold silence at this instant, but a certain part of his heart remained incredulous because of it.
Quinton let out a cold laugh from the side and said, “So… this is the Ashless Lands.” His tone suddenly softened, “Siles, this is the Ashless Lands.”
Siles remained silent for a moment, turned his head to look at him, and then said, “I know.” His tone was very flat, devoid of any emotion, “I know this is the Ashless Lands.”
Those emerald-green eyes stared at him fixedly. The man with grayish-white hair pressed almost right in front of Siles, and finally, he let out a laugh. He said, “I’m glad you realized this.”
On the other side, Alva was looking at the juggling and performances in the central open space with great interest. He glanced over to Siles’s side.
Chester said at the right time, “I’ll follow Alva, you guys…?”
“We are going to find someone,” Siles said. “Where can we meet up later?” He looked toward Mary.
Mary said, “There is a shop belonging to Mr. Lanmere on the third floor that sells potions. Just give my name. We will meet up there then. It’s getting late, let’s meet in an hour.”
Chester and Alva both nodded.
Mary added, “You two gentlemen can look around here; generally speaking, the Pavilion of the House of Hales is still safe.”
Thus, they went their separate ways.
Mary looked at Siles and asked, “Where would the person you’re looking for be?”
“A tavern,” Siles said first, and then recalled the information revealed in the letter sent by Alfonso Carte. After a moment, he supplemented, “It has been open in the House of Hales for at least ten years.”
Alfonso’s letter mentioned that they had learned in a tavern that someone from Isherwood’s expedition team back then had survived. The owner of that tavern had personally witnessed the appearance of that companion.
Considering that Isherwood had been missing for ten years already, the encounter between the tavern owner and that survivor very likely occurred ten years ago.
Precisely because Isherwood setting off for the expedition back then had caused a huge stir—even the noble lady had allegedly mentioned Isherwood’s actions—the fact that someone from the team survived back then would leave a very deep impression on the tavern owner, allowing him to recall it even ten years later.
Of course, this was Siles’s speculation. Whether they could specifically find this tavern owner also depended on subsequent actions. Regardless, they had to actively give it a try; Siles didn’t know where Alfonso and Emmanuel actually were right now.
“A tavern that has been open for ten years…” Mary pondered for a moment, then suddenly smiled, “That’s not very common. Please follow me, we need to go to the second floor—Clinking Cups, it should be called.”
“Clinking Cups”. It sounded a bit casual, Siles thought. However, it also made it very easy to remember.
On the way to the second floor, Siles couldn’t help but feel anxious due to the fabric floor, occasionally casting his eyes downward. Of course, this tension couldn’t be seen on his habitually cold, expressionless face.
But Quinton kept his eyes on him the entire time.
Therefore, while going up the stairs, Quinton suddenly extended his hand and said, “Do you want to hold onto me?”
Siles looked at him with slight surprise.
Quinton looked at him, and after a moment, suddenly laughed: “We’ve already held waists, so holding hands shouldn’t matter, right?” He shrugged casually, “Whatever works for you.”
Siles remained silent.
Mary, up ahead, stopped her footsteps, looking at this stalled situation between them with strangeness.
Quinton’s hand still remained in front of Siles.
At this instant, the surrounding crowd flowed like a river, someone was waiting for them to move forward, not far away, yet Quinton waited so patiently, almost overturning all of Siles’s old impressions of him.
He thought of that stable, steady back on the horse. Throughout the long journey, aside from the jolting of the road, Siles hadn’t detected any other discomfort and had even forgotten his initial awkwardness.
Only at this moment did Siles realize Quinton’s invisible attentiveness.
Quinton, perhaps, didn’t have this self-awareness. He might just feel that it was a matter of course. He might not have any awareness of closeness or distance either. He just felt he should do this for Siles.
Because…
Because this was Siles. His Professor Siles Noel.
Siles didn’t have time to think too much; he reached out and grabbed Quinton’s wrist.
…Wrist?
Quinton silently raised his right hand, then raised an eyebrow with a hint of playfulness, saying, “Professor Noel, what do you think this is?” He moved his fingers like waves.
Siles said very calmly, “Fingers.”
Quinton looked at him with surprise, then let out a laugh. He said, “Never mind.”
They seemed to reach some invisible agreement, and then tactfully dropped the topic, catching up with Ms. Mary’s footsteps. Mary’s gaze swept over their hands, and then she revealed a very meaningful smile.
However, she didn’t make any comments or teases regarding it.
They arrived at the second floor, and Siles let go of Quinton. Quinton’s gaze fell thoughtfully upon his right wrist, and after a moment, he gently touched it with the pad of his finger.
…Siles’s body temperature, he thought.
Clearly, they had been more intimate on horseback, yet at this moment, Quinton detected a slight touch. Merely because of the temperature on his wrist.
“We should go in,” Siles reminded him.
Quinton turned around to see Siles, especially that still calm and cold face. Suddenly, he felt a wave of irritation in his mood, as if that emotion resembling secret joy from just now had completely vanished, and he had even become quite a bit more ill-tempered.
But in the end, he suppressed his emotions and followed Siles’s footsteps.
“Clinking Cups” was an extremely quiet bar. The patrons here carried an unexpected, leisurely temperament.
Mary introduced from the side, “The main patrons targeted here are the permanent residents of the House of Hales. It’s unlikely for transient explorers to come here, but the long-term residents actually prefer this place.”
Siles nodded thoughtfully.
He thought this might explain why Alfonso and Emmanuel would come here. What they needed was relevant news about the House of Hales over the past ten years, rather than just one or two accidental incidents.
The internal decoration of the shop was also still fabric. Disregarding that soft, tough material sensation, it looked almost like a white wall. However, the feeling of Siles stepping on it made him clearly aware that this was some peculiar fabric.
The moment he walked into the tavern, an uncomfortable association cropped up in his mind: he thought it felt much like walking inside the stomach wall of some massive creature.
That soft fabric?
No, that soft esophageal muscle.
…Siles thought that the Greyson event had truly left too large a psychological shadow on him.
He didn’t think further, casting his gaze into the tavern. Under the slightly dim light, the wooden tables of the tavern carried a warm, or perhaps one could say filthy, stickiness.
Three or five patrons sat separately, drinking their liquor quietly. A tavern without shouting and noisy arguments truly made Siles feel unaccustomed, but it seemed everyone present tacitly accepted this rule of silence in the tavern.
Behind the bar counter, a short man greeted them: “Good evening, guests.”
He looked more like a dwarf from a fairy tale—a gnome, meaning. His height was probably only about one meter four, his head was somewhat large, and his overall body proportions looked a bit malformed.
Siles thought, Does this count as a bodily mutation in a certain sense?
He didn’t have time to think further; the three of them sat down at the bar counter seats. Siles was in the middle, while Quinton and Mary sat to his left and right, respectively.
“Ms. Mary, I see you again.” The tavern owner greeted Mary with an unexpectedly respectful tone, and then added, “And, Mr. Quinton, your presence truly surprises me.”
Mary revealed an open smile, while Quinton nodded casually.
The tavern owner then said to Siles, “Young gentleman! I have never seen you before. Is this your first time coming to the House of Hales?”
His use of “young” to describe Siles caught Siles himself a bit by surprise. He realized almost with a start that this body was actually only 24 years old, still a very young age.
It was just that his own mindset was relatively mature.
He said in a low voice, “Indeed so. Is there any recommended liquor?”
Quinton, beside him, cast a rather disapproving look, but ultimately said nothing.
“You’ve come at just the right time!” the tavern owner said. “These past few days happen to have newly brewed liquor available for tasting. It’s a very beautiful and clear cherry wine. Would you like to try it?”
“Of course,” Siles said.
The tavern owner then produced three smoothly polished wooden cups, filtered three cups of cherry wine from a nearby barrel, and placed them in front of them one by one.
They all took a sip.
Siles’s expression didn’t change as he thought, The alcohol content doesn’t seem high.
…If he were to resell Chinese white liquor in this world, could he make money? Siles, who was just thinking about purchasing property, pondered along these lines.
Of course, he didn’t know the recipe for white liquor. A great pity.
An amused emotion flashed through Siles’s heart.
He set down the wooden cup and then asked as if casually, “Lately, quite a few people must have tasted the newly brewed cherry wine, right?”
The tavern owner’s movements paused for a split second, and then he said with a face full of smiles, “Sir, to tell you the truth, since you’ve come together with Ms. Mary and Mr. Quinton, you can speak directly about what it is you want to ask me.”
Siles paused slightly, then let out a laugh as well. He said candidly, “It seems I was overthinking. Well then, owner, what I want to ask is whether over the past period of time, there were two…”
His words were suddenly interrupted by a certain patron who collapsed to the floor, twitching.
The tavern owner’s expression changed, and he jumped directly out from behind the bar counter to check on that patron’s condition.
After a moment, he suddenly slumped onto the floor, his face deathly pale.
Siles heard Quinton say in a low voice, “That fellow is dead.”
“What happened?” Mary muttered to herself in bewilderment, “How did this fellow die?”
Siles narrowed his eyes slightly—he noticed a section of the dead patron’s exposed arm. It was a lead-gray color, looking just like a sculpture.
