Chapter 177: “Critical Point”
This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation.
After a deafening explosion, an eerie silence enveloped the world.
Morris felt disoriented and detached, almost as if his consciousness was floating away from his physical body. For a moment, he lost all awareness of his surroundings, the time, and even his own identity. In this fleeting state, the elderly scholar found himself in a vast void, filled only with a chaotic interplay of light and shadow.
It seemed to take an eternity for Morris to reassemble the fragments of his soul. Gradually, his memories returned: he remembered who he was, where he lived, his profession, and the disturbing reason he had come to the antique shop that day—something there had almost ensnared his beloved daughter.
A stunning revelation stood before him: the family in question hailed from subspace!
The tumultuous roars and cacophonous noises surged, threatening to tear apart the very fabric of reality. Morris had only just regained his sense of self, and now he seemed on the brink of being shattered once more. But at that crucial moment, a thick mist swirled around him, encasing him and muffling the chaotic disturbances.
This protective veil was a manifestation of ignorance and folly, a gift from the God of Wisdom, Lahem. With this momentary respite, Morris could finally gather his thoughts and survey his surroundings. It was then that he noticed a pulsating beacon amidst the thick fog.
The beacon was composed of numerous luminous points, both large and small. At its center was a radiant red orb, about the size of a human head, encircled by myriad smaller blue, green, and red lights. This chaotic array blinked erratically, yet there was a sense of underlying order, a pattern that hinted at some profound meaning.
The rhythmic oscillation of these lights acted as a stabilizing force for Morris, grounding him amidst the swirling maelstrom of light and shadow. Then, in a moment of sheer awe, the truth dawned on him: he was face to face with Lahem, the revered God of Wisdom!
Every institute and research facility of the Truth Academy depicted Lahem consistently in their sacred scriptures. It was believed that this deity didn’t assume a humanoid shape but manifested as an ethereal array of lights beyond human comprehension.
Overwhelmed with reverence and emotion, Morris quickly prostrated himself, “My Lord! Have you come to guide me on this journey?”
The fluctuating lights, embodying the divine entity, did not verbally address the venerable scholar. Instead, they emitted a deep, resonating hum that penetrated straight into Morris’s psyche.
“Return, make contact, seek understanding, and relay the message…”
“You…” Morris’s eyes widened, fixating on the luminous entity in front of him. Although he strained to decipher Lahem’s intentions, the enigmatic god of wisdom seemed unwilling to indulge his inquiries further.
Suddenly, an overwhelming force of resistance enveloped him, violently thrusting him out of the tumultuous realm he had found himself in.
His body convulsed, and his mind felt on the verge of short-circuiting from the sensory overload that ensued. The blaring sounds of city traffic, the distant ring of bells, the gentle gusts of wind, and the distinct ring of a bicycle’s bell filled his ears. Then, he heard hurried footsteps approaching, accompanied by a concerned voice that reminded him of one of his students.
“Mr. Morris?! What are you doing here? Are you okay?”
Dizzily, Morris lifted his gaze and found Nina standing there, her face painted with worry. But in the blink of an eye, her figure morphed into a dancing flame, encased by a whirlwind of ash!
Panicking and unsure of what was reality and what was a mere hallucination, Morris quickly turned, only to be met with the eyes of a towering giant. Its chaotic eyes radiated with the mystical power of subspace. Strangely, the visage soon morphed into a concerned middle-aged man.
The very fabric of the environment around him seemed warped. Streets in the distance rippled as if caught in the throes of an earthquake. The very ground he stood upon pulsated, reminiscent of living flesh. The once-familiar doors and windows of the antique shop had transformed into swirling voids. And the sky… Morris could hardly believe his eyes. It had turned into a vast inferno, the heavens constantly ablaze, with grotesque, shapeless limbs of banshees occasionally emerging and screeching from within this apocalyptic vista.
Feeling the weight of the horrors around him threatening to pull him under, Morris forced himself to look at his wrist. He still had on the protective bracelet given to him by the God of Wisdom, but distressingly, only four of its beads remained intact.
Amidst the day’s chaotic events, there was a small silver lining: the beads had ceased their disintegration. The encroaching madness that had threatened to overwhelm him seemed to have been held at bay, for the time being. But he was under no illusions. The moment the last bead crumbled, his sanity might very well be consumed by the surrounding madness.
Drawing upon his years of scholarly experience, Morris quickly assessed his situation. Thanks to Lahem’s protective boon, he teetered precariously between lucidity and insanity. There was a chance he could regain his composure or, in a dire turn of events, become so corrupted that he’d transform into a monstrous being. But one thing was clear to him – his fate was no longer in his hands.
As Morris was deeply engrossed in his thoughts, moving at a deliberate and methodical pace, both Nina and Duncan observed the elderly historian with increasing concern. It was evident that his mental faculties were compromised.
Earlier, as the two were practicing biking, they were startled to find Morris suddenly appearing in the nearby clearing. Initially, Nina, recognizing her teacher, had eagerly begun to approach him, intending to offer a cheerful greeting. However, as she drew closer, she was taken aback by the unnerving and distant look in the elderly man’s eyes.
His gaze was vacant and glassy, disconnected from the reality surrounding him, as if he were sleepwalking with his eyes wide open.
While voicing his unease, Duncan said, “Could he possibly have had an abrupt onset of dementia?” Tentatively, he reached out, attempting to rouse Morris from his apparent stupor. When he received no reaction, he looked at Nina, seeking confirmation. “Has he ever behaved this way in school before?”
Clutching the historian’s arm reassuringly, Nina responded with a shake of her head, “No, my teacher has always been sound of mind and body. He couldn’t possibly have developed dementia so suddenly!”
Duncan, ever pragmatic, replied as he took hold of Morris’s opposite arm, “We can never be certain with the elderly.” Casting a worried glance at the darkening sky, he added, “Regardless, we shouldn’t linger here. It looks like it’s going to rain soon. Let’s get him indoors before the downpour.”
Nodding in agreement, Nina assisted in escorting the disoriented Morris to safety. Once inside, she quickly returned outside to shelter her bicycle. Meanwhile, Duncan had settled Morris into a chair near the counter. While still exhibiting signs of confusion, a hint of recognition now glimmered in the old man’s eyes as they fixed upon Duncan.
“Return, contact, understand, pass on…” These words reverberated in Morris’s mind, the last remnants of his coherent thought clinging to their meaning.
Could this be a directive from the God of Wisdom? A command for him to maintain this mysterious connection?
To Morris’s relief, through his wavering vision, Duncan’s appearance had stabilized into a recognizable human form. Although his immediate surroundings continued to undulate and distort, reminiscent of a living, pulsating cave, the environment was less disorienting than the abyss he had initially encountered. In this semblance of reality, he retained the ability to think and experience emotions, notably fear.
Duncan, the seemingly innocuous antique store proprietor, was turning out to be an anomaly, an entity that defied logical existence.
Similarly, his own cherished student, Nina, with her ever-present radiant smile and effervescent personality, was revealing herself to be far from an ordinary young woman.
Morris, seemingly chosen by the god Lahem himself, was bound to remain here and interact with this “family,” even though he teetered on the edge of descending into madness.
But as he grappled with his predicament, another audacious and exhilarating realization began to dawn upon him: he was granted the unique ability to glimpse into subspace, a realm typically forbidden to mortals!
As a scholar well-versed in history, Morris was acutely aware of the valiant endeavors undertaken by knowledge seekers of the ancient Kingdom of Crete. Through a lifetime of rigorous preparations, including consuming various potions and performing intricate rituals, these individuals aimed to utilize their last ounce of life force to achieve a state of equilibrium. This precarious balance allowed them to gaze into the prohibited zone, gifting their accumulated insights to the generations that followed. It was a noble act, a fusion of sacrifice and the bestowal of invaluable wisdom.
Now, Morris found himself at the very threshold that numerous sages throughout history had crossed, often at the expense of their lives.
Gradually, the bewildered expression that had previously clouded the old historian’s face gave way to one of steely resolve. Fear was replaced by a valiant spirit, reminiscent of the bravery exhibited by the scholars of yore when they confronted the unknown and menacing realms. These scholars were the warriors of wisdom, their weapons not of steel or gunpowder but of intellect and the written word.
He was prepared to take a stand.
“Hello, Mr. Duncan…” Morris’s voice held a newfound authority as he clenched his fist, fighting to keep his nerves at bay.
Yet, Duncan, who was oblivious to the tumultuous storm brewing within Morris’s mind, found himself increasingly unnerved by the intense and unyielding gaze directed towards him.
What was going through the mind of this elderly man? Why was he sporting such an unnerving grin?
Damn yea you were right getting near chapter 200 things are really starting to pick up in pace.
i am of the edge reading those chapters