They still moved in groups of three to five, swaggering inside with a thoroughly boisterous, free-spirited air.
That aura was actually quite different from what one usually saw in explorers throughout the Ashless Lands. However, considering they were explorers hired by the Lamifa Chamber of Commerce, Siles wasn’t particularly surprised by their demeanor.
He cast a glance in their direction, happened to catch the eye of the squad’s leader. Seeing Siles, the man instinctively glanced at his side, and upon noticing Chendo was absent, a subtle smile touched his lips.
Yet he seemed to have no intention of speaking with Siles. He simply led his companions to a nearby table, sat down, pulled a stack of papers from his coat, and lowered his head to read.
…Those papers?
Siles frowned slightly. He turned to Andy and said, “Excuse me for a moment.”
Andy didn’t seem to mind, merely watching Siles’s movements with curiosity.
Siles stood up, walked over to the explorer, and asked in a low voice, “Excuse me…”
“Oh, it’s you,” the explorer said offhandedly. “Though don’t think that just because you’re that guy’s old flame, you can wangle any favors out of me.”
Siles was silent for a second before realizing “that guy” referred to Chendo.
He sat across from the explorer, measuring his tone while casting a glance at the manuscript. He then said, “It seems you know Chendo?”
“Of course I do. Everyone does.” Once the conversation opened, the explorer made no secret of it. He casually folded the manuscript, tossed it aside, and said, “I used to work with him. Mind you, his personality isn’t pleasant at all.
“If you can tame him and make him obedient, I’d genuinely admire you, sir. Though with your ability, who knows who’s taming whom.”
He let out a chuckle tainted with vulgarity.
Siles couldn’t help but frown. Dropping that topic, he redirected, “You are employed by Lady Eugenia Biedel, are you not?”
The amusement in the explorer’s eyes instantly froze. He asked in disbelief, “How could you possibly know that?!”
Siles didn’t answer directly. He merely said, “You were hired by that lady to come to the Ashless Lands in search of ‘the Non-existent City.’ Is this the clue you found?” He pointed at the manuscript.
“…You really are like a prophet,” the explorer said grimly. “Yes, exactly.”
Prophet. That single word stirred subtle ripples in Siles’s mind.
He hesitated briefly between the two topics of “prophet” and “mysterious manuscript” before deciding to stick to his original train of thought.
He said, “However, you might not know that recently in the House of Hales, explorers have been dying bizarrely after reading manuscripts from unknown sources.”
The explorer looked at him with some surprise, then glanced down at the manuscript. After a moment, he said thoughtfully, “Are you… are you warning me because of Lady Biedel?”
Siles felt no need to answer that directly. Confirming that this explorer squad was indeed hired by the noblewoman served to resolve his internal doubts and lay the groundwork for further discussion.
“It is because I, too, am searching for ‘the Non-existent City,'” Siles stated.
The explorer studied Siles for a few seconds, then nodded. “Albert Milne.”
“Siles Noel.”
Albert said with genuine intrigue, “So you’re the one who invented that card game! Impressive.”
Siles: “…”
How unfortunate. Before making a name for himself in academia, he had already become famous through parlor entertainment.
Siles paused imperceptibly, then merely shook his head without replying.
Albert let out a bored huff and switched topics: “So you mean this manuscript was designed to harm people?”
“Yes,” Siles said. “Though what piques my curiosity even more is where you obtained it.”
He had been immensely curious about this matter all along. On their first day arriving at the House of Hales, they had encountered a victim. But that victim was already dead. The investigation on Miles’s end had been dragging out with zero progress.
Searching for a suspicious individual among several thousand explorers at the House of Hales was no different from hunting a needle in the ocean.
After inquiring with the tavern owner Andy, Siles had originally planned to consider going to Corinna Canyon to investigate. Of course, that was merely a fallback option. With Chendo absent, Siles leaned toward prudent, conservative actions.
The dice check was his trump card. While formidable enough, it remained obscure and unpredictable in its nature; Siles didn’t wish to employ it lightly.
Therefore, he still intended to search for clues within the House of Hales.
And this explorer who had suddenly appeared seemed to possess information that took Siles by surprise.
…The manuscript, and… the prophet.
Albert said, “A mysterious young explorer. Claimed his name was Karl.”
“Karl,” Siles murmured. “Him again.”
“You know him?”
“Last year, around this exact time, he was hawking treasure maps at the House of Hales. Now he’s turned up again this year,” Siles said.
Albert said with mild disdain, “There are people like that every year. ‘Karl’ is just a very common alias.”
Siles nodded, acknowledging the possibility. Even if both went by Karl, they might not be the same person.
After pondering for a moment longer, he suddenly caught onto a question: “This Karl… are you certain he was only selling this manuscript?”
“What?”
“Before I came to the House of Hales, I heard someone here was selling ancient versions of maps.”
While they were chatting, Andy came over with drinks, placing them on their table. Overhearing Siles’s words, he couldn’t help but interject, “Mr. Noel, the situation goes like this.”
The two looked toward Andy.
Andy seemed to relish the role of informant, saying, “Indeed, someone claimed to have obtained an even older map. But that’s outdated news now! They’ve all already set off to search for clues!”
Albert didn’t seem surprised, merely muttering, “Just as I thought.”
Siles frowned slightly. “When did this happen?”
“A while back.” Andy thought for a moment. “I’m not sure of their exact departure time, but… it seems to have been around the time of Antinam’s Divine Birth.”
Around the divine birth date, Siles thought. Alfonso and Emmanuel seemed to have departed around that time as well. Could they have been together?
It wasn’t impossible.
Siles asked again, “Did the explorer who claimed to have the older map set off with them as well?”
“Naturally,” Andy shrugged.
He offered no more details and quickly returned to behind the counter.
Albert sighed, “As expected. By the time someone actually goes to seek the truth behind those rumors spreading like wildfire through the Ashless Lands, it’s always too late.”
His remark made Siles narrow his eyes.
Albert Milne was clearly a veteran explorer, comparable to Lady Mary before her employment with Lanmere. He looked to be in his thirties, in the prime of his life, with sharp eyes, neatly cropped hair, and an aura brimming with ambition.
Even so, he used such an appreciative, wistful tone to say that “time in the Ashless Lands is never enough.”
…Similar incidents must have occurred many times for him to form such a belief.
Wait, prophet? Why would he know the concept of a prophet?
Perhaps…
Siles pondered briefly, then said, “You know Alfonso Carte, don’t you?”
Albert revealed a look of utter astonishment. He stared at Siles almost in disbelief and said, “How do you know that?” He paused. “I can understand Lady Biedel’s matter.
“After all, the Lamifa Chamber of Commerce announced that publicly back then, so some explorers were bound to know or hear rumors. But Alfonso? How… how could you possibly know about him? That was a decade ago!”
Yes, a decade ago. At that moment, a faint sense of melancholy rose in Siles’s heart.
Ten years ago. What a distant time. If reckoned by Earth’s timeline, He Jiayin back then had just graduated from university, hesitating over how to make a living.
While in the distant world of Fischer, upon this strange land shrouded in fog, a group of people had similarly been so lost, so bewildered.
Siles let out a slow sigh: “Because of the prophet.” He paused, then explained, “I learned of the concept of the prophet from Alfonso. It’s a very peculiar concept. If you didn’t know him, it would be impossible for you to know such a phrasing.”
Only then did revelation dawn on Albert. His expression grew incredibly complex, and he said, “So… you are the prophet he was looking for?”
Siles froze, taken aback. “What?” He thought for a moment. “No, I didn’t mean that. I merely wanted to inquire…”
Albert, however, paid no mind to Siles’s original intent. He merely muttered, “Oh, that’s truly unbelievable. But you really do seem like a prophet. Knowing about Lady Biedel in advance, knowing my past connection with Alfonso…”
Siles: “…”
Wait…!
He said, “This is merely reasonable logical deduction.”
“Oh, logical deduction.” Albert gave him a strange look, then said, “Do you really believe in such explanations? Fate’s existence is something utterly illusory.
“Yet regardless—sir, regardless of everything, how could you know Lady Biedel, and how could you know Alfonso?”
Siles hesitated for a moment. “Coincidence.”
Albert grunted with that rough, boisterous, cut-the-nonsense attitude. He said, “So, you first learned about Lady Biedel, learned about this expedition team, and then learned about Alfonso, knowing about that tribal ruin he once discovered…
“Fine, as you say, coincidence. And the result? All this information just happened to be used right here, used to gain my trust, to make me believe you really are that prophet, to make me willing to help you…
“Honestly, sir, do you really think this is just coincidence? Fate… fate has no coincidences, according to what that tribal ruin said.”
A subtle sense of powerlessness crept into Siles’s heart.
What he wanted to say was that this was information he had long possessed, and he was merely employing it reasonably at this juncture. He knew so much information; could every single piece be used in the future? Was every single detail an arrangement of fate?
He didn’t quite believe in such… deeply metaphysical explanations. Even if extraordinary powers genuinely existed in this world, still… if fate could truly be orchestrated, that would be rather terrifying.
Therefore, after a brief silence, Siles bypassed the topic altogether, simply saying, “I do not consider myself a prophet.”
Albert’s eyes basically said: Sure, whatever you say.
Siles pivoted his question: “So, you and Alfonso met a decade ago?”
This was not “seven years ago.” Alfonso and the others had indeed discovered that tribal ruin ten years ago, but due to various reasons, they delayed three years before publicizing the news.
Thus, when Albert mentioned the ten-year mark, Siles realized that Albert was indeed an insider.
Truly surprising, Siles couldn’t help but think.
He had always wanted to find an insider to learn about the issues surrounding that tribal ruin. He had assumed all the insiders were missing, yet now light had broken at the end of the tunnel.
He awaited Albert’s response.
“Yes,” Albert said. “Though perhaps we should find another place to talk about this.”
He cast a glance at Andy behind the counter, showing an obvious look of distrust. Andy called out loudly, “Alright, alright! Gentlemen, you can talk outside. But Mr. Noel, please remember, you still owe me a useful piece of information!”
Siles said, “Of course, I will return shortly.”
He looked over at Mary’s group, confirmed they would remain at Andy’s tavern, and then left the tavern with Albert. They walked down from the second floor to the first, conversing in low tones amid the noisy clatter of the explorers playing cards in the central clearing.
Albert said, “Ten years ago, I was still an inexperienced explorer… Anyway, back then I still had a bit of a good heart, so when I ran into the severely injured Alfonso and Emmanuel, I saved them.
“By the way, the night before last I heard your conversation with Andy mentioning Alfonso and his group. However, I wasn’t sure of your identity, so I didn’t initiate a conversation with you.”
His attitude had undergone a complete hundred-and-eighty-degree turn. Siles was almost caught off guard. He couldn’t help thinking: Is the identity of a ‘prophet’ truly that important?
Albert continued, “They were somewhat grateful for my rescue… or perhaps they didn’t think too much of it at the time, so they told me about their ordeal.
“Naturally, when I first found out they had actually discovered a tribal ruin, as someone who had just arrived in the Ashless Lands back then, I couldn’t help thinking, ‘Why doesn’t good fortune like this ever land on me?’ Hahaha!”
He laughed heartily, clearly treating his thoughts from back then as casual conversation.
Siles remained silent, offering no further opinion on the matter.
After a moment, Albert said, “Then, I came to know about the existence of the ‘prophet.'”
“…What exactly is a prophet?” A hint of perplexity arose in Siles.
“I’m not sure how Alfonso explained it to you,” Albert said, pausing briefly as if hesitating on how to phrase it. After a moment, he finally decided, “He discovered those concepts on an old piece of parchment.
“And in fact, it wasn’t just the concept of a ‘prophet’… It should be said that the tribe believed they had received ‘divine revelation,’ and they recorded all of that content on that tattered parchment.
“Because of the erosion of time, by the time they obtained the parchment, the contents were already somewhat damaged and unclear in many places.
“But the general meaning was that the world was sinking into darkness, and at some future moment, a prophet would appear to bring change to this world.
“…That was it.”
Siles thought to himself that it was a remarkably familiar “savior” trope.
He didn’t doubt the authenticity of the story. Rumors of a “savior” among primitive tribes sounded completely normal. It was just that the religious atmosphere of this world didn’t lean in that direction.
He couldn’t help asking, “So where is that parchment now?”
“Burned,” Albert said. “Ten years ago, when they left that tribal ruin, they burned it. I haven’t read that parchment either; I only heard them recount a portion of the information.”
Siles froze slightly. “Did they consider it dangerous?”
“Actually, I’m not sure of their thoughts either,” Albert said. “Afterward, they seemed to want to keep it secret and instructed me to do the same. And I indeed kept my word. Before you, I never mentioned this to a single soul.
“From another perspective, Emmanuel didn’t seem to quite believe in the existence of a ‘prophet,’ whereas Alfonso and I were different.”
Siles nodded slowly.
Albert shifted the topic: “‘Prophet’ is a very fascinating concept, don’t you think? In this world, there has never appeared a deity associated with fate. Yet a prophet is precisely that. A prophet is fate.”
Siles said, “Perhaps so.” He turned and asked, “Besides that parchment, did Alfonso obtain anything else? Perhaps… a fountain pen?”
“Oh, sir, you actually knew that thing existed.” Albert’s eyes filled with immense wonder, cementing his belief even further that Siles was indeed the “prophet.”
Siles didn’t know how to defend himself, so after a moment’s thought, he simply remained silent.
Albert’s awe lasted only a moment before he said, “Yes, of course, there was indeed a fountain pen.”
“What was it used for?” Siles asked, then paused abruptly. “…I understand. To write those ‘revelations.'”
Albert nodded.
Siles fell into deep thought.
He felt a very peculiar contradiction—Alfonso and Emmanuel were certain that the tribal ruin had nothing to do with “the Non-existent City.” Strictly judging from the information he had gathered so far, there was indeed no apparent connection between the two.
Yet why was Professor Cabel so deeply interested in the tribal ruin Alfonso had publicized? Why did even the cultists of Hoodoka suffer a rift seven years ago because of this matter?
…Was that tribal ruin related to Hoodoka? Or perhaps, related to Menavaca?
Siles couldn’t think of a possibility.
After pondering a moment, he asked, “Mr. Milne, where did you meet them back then?”
“That canyon… that heart-shaped canyon,” Albert said. “I forgot what it’s called. Back then I had just arrived in the Ashless Lands and come to the House of Hales. Seeing a heart-shaped canyon nearby, I thought it was quite interesting, so I went to check it out alone.
“That was quite reckless. If it were the current me, I wouldn’t dare do something so brash. But ten years ago, I was different. I met them near that canyon.
“Presumably, only fresh explorers who just arrived in the Ashless Lands would be interested in that place. I went back to look at it later; it was just an empty canyon with a somewhat peculiar shape, nothing interesting about it…
“…Sir, why did you stop talking?”
Siles snapped back to reality. “My apologies. I merely realized a problem.”
Albert gave him a suspicious look.
“There is indeed an error on the Barnett version of the map,” Siles murmured softly. “However, the Barnett version is not the only map in the world… What if that explorer truly obtained a more ancient map?
“What if he doesn’t belong to the mastermind’s faction—yes, Karl is—and this explorer simply happened to acquire that map by chance, a map where no such heart-shaped canyon exists?
“Then the explorers would realize that is the ‘error.’ They would set off toward that place to investigate.
“…That is why Alfonso and Emmanuel said they were wrong.”
Having said this, Siles paused.
Albert looked at him in confusion, appearing utterly unable to comprehend what Siles was talking about.
Not far away, the explorers were still noisily playing cards. They laughed and shouted, their faces brimming with excitement. Yet… it was merely a matter of these few days.
Some remained here to keep playing cards; some went off toward the uncertain future of Corinna Canyon; some attempted to investigate everything that had transpired in the past.
…Siles felt once again that for this world, the importance of “information” was incomparable.
He let out a subtle sigh, then asked, “Did you ever hear Alfonso mention how they found that tribal ruin?”
Albert shook his head.
Siles wasn’t surprised either. He said, “Perhaps we can head back now.”
Albert shrugged: “Fine by me. So I guess I won’t be reading that manuscript after all. Sigh, Lady Biedel’s commission still hasn’t made an inch of progress…”
Siles said, “‘The Non-existent City’ is a lie.”
Albert froze abruptly, staring at Siles almost blankly.
“Someone is using this rumor to send explorers to their deaths,” Siles said. “They are fueling the flames behind the scenes, keeping people obsessed with the treasure in the legend. The more obsessed they become, the crazier they get, walking straight into a dead end.”
Albert stared blankly for a moment, then muttered softly, “That’s certainly no good thing.”
However, his expression didn’t look overly shocked, merely showing brief surprise upon hearing it. Indeed, rumors in the Ashless Lands were a mix of truth and falsehood; no one knew how much weight they carried.
And the rumors regarding “the Non-existent City” were merely longer-lasting and claimed more lives. To the explorers of the Ashless Lands, it was likely just something that could serve as casual conversation down the line.
Furthermore, they would mostly mock the foolishness of those who had died before them.
Siles sighed inwardly.
Moments later, they returned to The Clinking Glasses. The atmosphere inside the tavern remained as usual, though the two dead-drunk explorers from earlier had already left.
Albert parted ways with Siles and returned to his companions, downing a glass of beer in one gulp without a word. Afterward, he shoved the manuscript into his bag, his gaze turning grim. He seemed to intend to settle scores with that fellow, though he waited for Siles.
Siles, meanwhile, walked over to the counter.
Andy’s eyes lit up with excitement; he clearly held immense interest in the information Siles might provide. He asked, “Sir, tell me quickly.”
Siles weighed his words carefully. He indeed possessed a wealth of information, but what to divulge was another matter entirely. Information related to the current investigation was best kept quiet.
He glanced toward his companions, then said, “Noel cards.”
Andy clapped his hands: “Oh, now that’s fresh news. You invented that way of playing; do you have any insights?”
“The true name of Noel cards is Fate Cards,” Siles said. “Furthermore, a secret is hidden within the cards… a secret concerning the gods.”
The secret Siles referred to was simple: Timiafa had consumed Elco. Those who paid attention might deduce this information directly from the initial rules of the Fate Cards, though the vast majority of people would likely just scratch their heads in frustration.
Andy’s expression gradually turned to shock. He said, “Wh-what? What secret?”
Siles said in a low voice, “My companions and I are not the original inventors of this deck, so I cannot state with certainty what the secret entails.
“However, perhaps while playing, one might slowly come to understand the meaning of this secret. Gambling with money is strictly off-limits; that would be deemed an ‘insufficiently devout act,’ making it impossible to uncover its true meaning. The inventor of the cards ought to have expected as much.”
Andy’s eyes flickered as he fell into deep thought.
Looking at him, Siles suddenly realized that although he had uttered the word “secret” unintentionally, he had in a practical sense become the guardian of this “secret,” as he indeed knew what the answer to the riddle was.
…He had become a Keepers of Secrets once again.
Siles let his mind linger on this thought briefly before setting it aside.
He pulled out his pocket watch to check the time, discovering it was nearly ten o’clock. The morning’s conversations had yielded a rich harvest, especially the discussion with Albert. Of course, matters were unlikely to be resolved so easily.
He nodded politely to Andy, rejoined his companions, and left the tavern.
Before long, Albert caught up with them. His companions hadn’t followed, seemingly planning to act separately.
Albert said, “I plan to go find that explorer. How about it, do you want to come along?”
Siles accepted Albert’s invitation. However, five people moving together would appear a bit too conspicuous.
Doctor Chester proactively suggested, “How about Alva and I go wait at the third-floor inn for a while?”
He was naturally referring to Audrey’s Inn. The innkeeper there was a past friend of Alfonso and Emmanuel.
Albert seemed to know about this too, saying, “Audrey?” He said offhandedly, “That lady is indeed trustworthy. If Isherwood hadn’t died, she and Emmanuel probably would have married long ago.”
Doctor Chester and Alva exchanged glances.
Siles thought it over, then said, “Lady Mary, please go with them. Albert and I will go look for the person.”
In his view, Doctor Chester and Alva faced greater danger, as they were currently being targeted by the mastermind behind the scenes. Siles himself was as well, which was why they needed to stick together.
However, he could grant Albert the most basic level of trust. At the very least, Albert knew the concept of a “prophet.”
Doctor Chester seemed to hold a slight hesitation regarding this arrangement. He looked at Siles as if wanting to speak, but ultimately just said, “Professor, please stay safe.”
“I will,” Siles said.
After splitting up into two groups, Albert asked Siles with great interest, “So you’re actually a professor?”
“Yes,” Siles replied, though he didn’t elaborate on his profession, turning instead to ask, “Do you know where that explorer is?”
Albert shrugged: “We’ll find him eventually. I have to settle accounts with him.” He cracked his knuckles.
Siles remained neutral, merely stating, “I prefer to extract some information from his mouth.”
Albert said, “Then it seems our goals don’t conflict.”
Among the crowd playing cards in the first-floor central clearing, they located the explorer who had sold the manuscript to Albert. He looked quite young, and Siles couldn’t help but frown slightly upon seeing him.
Albert threw a punch straight into the young man’s cheek. Caught completely off guard, the man took the hit and flipped the card table over. The surroundings abruptly fell silent.
Albert said grimly, “Karl… Ha, is your name really Karl? Young man, you sold the wrong thing to me.”
The young man’s face still bore the flushed excitement from playing cards, but seeing Albert, he was entirely stunned. After a moment, he began trembling and begging for mercy, claiming he was merely blinded by greed.
He had bought the manuscript from an explorer named Karl, but after hearing about the incidents at The Clinking Glasses—the dead man, the manuscript, the statue—he became terrified out of his mind and rushed to resell the manuscript.
Albert asked coldly, “So you mimicked that ‘Karl’s’ name and sold this garbage to me?” He angrily pulled the manuscript from his bag and slammed it onto the ground. “Quite bold, young man.”
The young man shivered violently, then suddenly yelled after a moment, “What else did you expect me to do!”
As Albert was about to speak, Siles extended a hand to stop him, then asked in a low voice, “Where is that ‘Karl’?”
The young man suddenly grew vigilant: “Who are you?”
“Siles Noel,” Siles said simply.
“Oh, you invented Noel cards.” The young man seemed to suddenly grant Siles his trust.
The surrounding explorers were also watching the scene unfold, whispering among themselves and discussing Siles’s young and handsome appearance. This made Siles frown slightly. However, he had no time to dwell on such matters now.
The young man muttered something under his breath, then stood up, brushed off his clothes, and wiped the blood from his face.
Albert said, “This isn’t over.”
“Go after the real culprit!” The young man widened his eyes. “Why don’t you go settle accounts with that Karl?”
“Aren’t you the one claiming to be Karl?” Albert glared at him coldly.
The young man wanted to say something, but ultimately lapsed into silence.
At that moment, Siles said calmly, “The other explorers have gone upstairs.” He glanced at the second floor; although it was during ritual hours, without wearing [Akamara’s Spectacle Frames], the fabric appeared as nothing more than ordinary, faintly glowing cloth.
He thought that these explorers… while they indeed found enjoyment in card games, were fundamentally still explorers.
Albert cursed, then strode upstairs, saying, “Let’s go! We need to head over too! I suspect that Karl isn’t even there, but we still have to check, don’t you think?”
Siles hesitated briefly.
He was almost certain that specialty shop had issues. With Chendo absent, he ought to remain cautious and stay as far away from such dangerous places as possible. Even if he possessed the power of dice checks, he remained a creature of flesh and blood, subject to injury and death.
However…
Siles pondered for a moment and ultimately followed in Albert’s footsteps.
His reasoning was that he hadn’t expected this Karl to directly reveal the existence of the second-floor specialty shop. Now that the crowd of explorers had rushed over, it would surely startle the snake in the grass. Going over now and blending into the crowd might allow him to uncover some clues.
…He couldn’t remain in safe places forever, waiting for clues to appear on their own. Albert’s appearance had already cleared up part of his confusion, but he couldn’t rely on luck forever.
Ten minutes later, Siles felt a faint tinge of regret over his previous decision.
He was always rational, always calm—always so. If only he hadn’t ended up trapped in this pitch-black room right now.
However, that regret flickered through his mind only for an instant. He quickly composed himself.
Ten minutes prior, he and Albert had gone together to the second-floor specialty shop, blending into the crowd of explorers and listening to an explorer arguing loudly with the shopkeeper.
It seemed quite a few people were aware of the recent consecutive deaths in the House of Hales. It was just that prior to this, no one possessed relevant clues, so naturally no one had the inclination to investigate.
The explorers of the Ashless Lands couldn’t be bothered with the lives of others, at least until such crises threatened themselves.
Yet at this moment, a clue had emerged. Thus, the angry explorers—perhaps still carrying the righteous fervor from the card tables—flocked over, interrogating the shopkeeper.
Siles observed from within the crowd, confirming that the shopkeeper’s reaction was excessively cold. He couldn’t tell whether it was because the shopkeeper himself was a follower of an Old God, or simply because this was the norm in the Ashless Lands.
In short, the explorers’ questioning received no proper answers, and after a short while, the dense crowd gradually dispersed. Some sighed, intending to return to the first-floor clearing to continue playing cards.
Siles also intended to leave at that point. But just as he turned back, someone pushed him forcefully from behind.
Caught off guard, Siles stumbled. In that split second, his thought was that Chendo was always saying he lacked vigilance, and it seemed that was indeed the case.
He didn’t fall, but as he leaned against the fabric wall to steady himself, his vision suddenly went pitch black. Immediately after, he realized he seemed to be trapped inside a dark room.
Setting aside his annoyance at his own lack of vigilance, Siles felt a slight sense of strangeness.
Calming down, he realized he couldn’t see anything, so he instinctively reached for [Akamara’s Spectacle Frames] hanging around his neck—and grasped empty air. In this dark space, he couldn’t find the spectacles he always carried with him.
During this process, he walked around the pitch-black space. Lacking vision, he first chose to measure it with his footsteps. Before long, he discovered it was roughly a square room five meters by five meters, utterly empty, with nothing inside.
Where exactly was this place? Why had he arrived here in the blink of an eye?
After confirming that there was no immediate danger in this place for the time being, Siles continued to check the items on his person—nothing, absolutely nothing. His black umbrella, the shield fragment, his pocket watch, and even his wallet were all gone.
He was somewhat surprised by this discovery. The surroundings remained pitch black; he couldn’t see a thing.
Such an environment easily induced panic. Siles forced himself to maintain calm, rational thought. He instinctively pinched the bridge of his nose, then froze abruptly.
Wait…
He touched his facial features, then realized with astonishment that this was not the face of Siles Noel. This… this was the face of He Jiayin. It belonged to that Earth novelist!
His expression darkened at that moment. He formed a conjecture regarding his situation.
Someone had pushed him from behind; it was an attack.
The mastermind behind the scenes had very likely chosen to ignite everything at that moment due to the exposure of the specialty shop. Choosing to attack Siles was meant to trigger panic among the other explorers, and the method of attack could be compared to Doctor Chester’s ordeal.
That steel-gray mist might have enveloped Siles at that exact moment as well.
However, unlike Doctor Chester, who had encountered the incident in the washroom—a far more enclosed space with little exposure to the Stardust in the outer fabric—Siles had suffered the attack right in the main hall. He had even accidentally touched the fabric while trying to steady his body. He was enveloped by the Stardust transformed from Hoodoka’s divine throne.
Thus, his most likely situation right now was…
He had turned into a statue at that exact instant.
At this thought, what crossed Siles’s mind was that he actually hadn’t died.
…No, he actually hadn’t died?
So where was this place? His consciousness space? Did this world truly have such a fantastical setup?
Siles felt a bit troubled, touching his face with a sense of unfamiliarity. He hadn’t expected to appear in the form of He Jiayin here, which felt both familiar and strange, evoking a distant sense of warmth.
He continued to contemplate the possibilities that had led to this situation.
If he had truly turned into a statue, it meant something had gone wrong with his physical body. An ordinary person’s soul would likely be unable to survive upon detaching from the “physical body,” resulting in instant death.
However, Siles’s soul…
He didn’t know how high his Spirituality was, but his Will…
It was worth noting that upon stepping out, he had specifically used the ritual [Calm Heart]. He possessed a Will attribute as high as 97 for a short duration, which he suspected might be infinitely close to that of a deity.
Chendo, who possessed the bloodline of an Old God, had a Will of 99. And Siles was virtually on par with him.
…That was why he could appear in this dark room, Siles thought. It was his powerful Will attribute supporting him, prompting him to seek a final solution at this juncture.
Yet this dark space… Siles felt a bit stumped.
He felt he could still perform checks. He suspected he could carry out a Constitution check to combat his current peculiar state. However, he was currently unable to perceive the outside world.
In other words, he could not sense the existence of “Siles Noel,” as if his soul and body had completely separated. Consequently, he couldn’t find a target for the check.
…An awkward predicament, Siles evaluated his situation.
He let out a faint sigh and simply sat cross-legged on the ground. He tried performing a check on his current self, but whether because he could no longer be considered a “person” or due to some other reason, he failed to execute the check.
Well, perhaps it’s because I’m basically a ghost now, Siles told himself a dry joke.
Not knowing how long he had stayed in this dark space, Siles even began to feel groggy. At a certain moment, a sudden wave of exhaustion washed over him, followed by a heavier, more oppressive force that seemed to suppress his Will.
He adapted with difficulty for a moment before finally feeling able to catch his breath.
He thought: What happened? What’s going on?
Then he realized that in all likelihood, the effect of the [Calm Heart] ritual had expired. The four points of Will added by [Calm Heart] only lasted for ten hours. In other words, it was already around four o’clock in the afternoon.
…Time had passed so quickly? Siles felt somewhat surprised.
What surprised him even more was that he was still alive.
He thought thoughtfully that it appeared the importance of the “Will” attribute was even higher than he had originally anticipated.
However—he thought helplessly—this dark, enclosed space left him utterly helpless.
I must be more cautious in the future, Siles admonished himself. If… there even is a future.
Right at that moment, he realized that since it was already four in the afternoon, was Chendo about to return? At that instant, a subtle emotion rose in his heart.
Something hovering between guilt and unease. He felt he was on the verge of death, which couldn’t help but make him feel guilty toward Chendo for failing to keep himself safe; yet he also felt that letting Chendo witness his death would be far too cruel.
The moment this emotion surfaced in his mind, he suddenly spotted a strange thing in this dark space. He thought sluggishly for a moment before realizing it was a speck of light.
—Light?
Siles snapped back to awareness, staring at that single speck of light, unconsciously sitting up straight. Then, he stood up and walked toward that direction. He stopped five meters away, unable to advance further, yet he could still gaze at that speck of light from afar.
Looking from a distance, it resembled… the light atop a lighthouse?
That radiance seemed to shatter the long-standing darkness.
Siles stared at the scene in surprise. He wondered who was helping him. A vague yet certain name surfaced in his mind. Yet at this moment, he stated in a low voice without hesitation: “Check Siles Noel’s Constitution attribute.”
The familiar sound of rolling dice echoed—the check succeeded!
[Keeper of Secrets, Siles Noel (University Professor) is performing a Constitution check.]
[Constitution: 75/…]
Siles was somewhat surprised to find that his Constitution attribute was actually quite high as well. However, he had no time to dwell on it now and quickly selected a suitable number from the displayed values.
[Constitution: 75/70, success.]
[Congratulations, you didn’t actually let yourself capsize. Of course, the fact that you managed to hold out until now is precisely because “Will is your strongest weapon.” The kindly dice hopes you take note that the phrase “capsize” shouldn’t be thrown around lightly. It is time to leave this awkward predicament!]
Siles had no leisure to pay attention to the dice’s prompt. The moment the check succeeded, he faintly heard the sound of something shattering near his ear. Immediately after, his soul sensed a sudden, pulling sensation.
He sensed cold air and complex scents—the smell of blood, to be precise. There were also low sounds of people weeping and conversing. He wondered what had happened.
He felt his body was immensely heavy, as were his eyelids. Yet a thoroughly warm aura surrounded his side. After a short while, he finally experienced the feeling of warmth returning to his cold body.
He struggled to open his eyes, and within his gradually clearing vision, he spotted a pair of emerald-green eyes.
He met those eyes for a moment, then managed to say with effort, “Chendo…?”
A burst of sudden delight erupted within those beautiful eyes, mingled with a complex and profound emotion that Siles found difficult to describe.
The familiar sound of rolling dice resonated in his mind once more.
[Keeper of Secrets, Chendo Praia (Scion of an Old God) needs to perform a Will check.]
[Will: 99/100, critical failure.]
[In truth, you know very well what driving force you have been waiting for—the recognition of fate, do you not? When Chendo obtained that critical success, he was fated to welcome this critical failure. You chose a “0” for him, so he will return a “100” to you.]
Before Siles could realize what the dice’s prompt actually signified, his vision went dark in the next second, and a soft, dry sensation pressed against his lips.
…He kissed him. At last. Unable to endure it any longer.
