Chapter 179: “Feeling Guilty”

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Duncan reflected on the intricate narrative he had read in an ancient tome:

In the Deep Sea Era, four principal deities safeguarded the world. Among them was Lahem, the god of wisdom, notable for harboring two contradictory powers, much like the storm goddess and the death overlord. Lahem was celebrated as the bestower of wisdom, guiding seekers of truth and knowledge. Conversely, he also bore titles such as the “God of Foolishness” and the “Gospel of Dullness.”

Despite Lahem’s immense power, few dared to devote themselves to him. To become a disciple of Lahem required proving one’s worth through rigorous trials. However, those who succeeded received two unique blessings.

The first blessing was the invaluable gift of wisdom. This enabled recipients to perceive truth in its pure form, amass extensive knowledge, understand the essence and mechanics of everything around them intuitively, and recognize crucial truths that could shape their destiny.

The second blessing, seemingly paradoxical, was the gift of dullness. This served as a protective shield of ignorance, insulating its bearer from certain truths not yet meant to be revealed and from the corrupting influences of subspace. In a world teeming with unseen perils, where mysterious threats lurked beneath the waves and ominous clouds veiled the skies, possessing the gift of dullness was a significant advantage.

The Deep Sea Era was marked by inexplicable phenomena and visions. The depths concealed lurking madness, and the skies were perpetually menacing. In such a setting, the boons granted by Lahem were of profound importance. Although few in number, Lahem’s disciples were undoubtedly the elite of society.

Lost in these thoughts, Duncan’s focus shifted momentarily to the muffled sounds of Nina moving in the kitchen above. The street outside the antique shop was settling into a tranquil evening, and the warm ambiance of the ground floor shop provided a comforting contrast.

Seated behind the counter, Duncan clasped his hands together and looked intently at the elderly Mr. Morris. The god of wisdom’s protection, he mused, was a priceless treasure. Yet, it seemed that the very nature of Lahem’s followers, with their insatiable thirst for knowledge and the inherent risks of their pursuit, made them more vulnerable to frequent dangers.

Even with a god’s protection, there were forces too powerful to be deflected. If Mr. Morris were a character in some fantastical tale, he might have already sprouted monstrous tentacles extending a foot in length.

A realization struck Duncan. While he had always sensed something unique about himself, he now wondered, “Do all of Lahem’s disciples possess the ability to see my true nature, just as you do?”

Mr. Morris, rubbing his forehead thoughtfully, replied, “Only the rarest among them, those who receive exceptional favor from the god of wisdom, have such an ability.” He added, his voice clearer but tinged with a peculiar resonance, “You might find it ironic, but most of Lahem’s disciples aren’t truly… susceptible to your influence.”

With a peculiar expression, Duncan emphasized, “So, you’re ‘blessed’ in a special way,” the word ‘blessed’ sounding almost mocking, making him uneasy. “These ‘blessings’ of yours seem rather dangerous… But tell me, why didn’t they affect you during your last visit?”

Mr. Morris was momentarily taken aback. He wasn’t sure if Duncan was innocently uninformed or purposefully feigning ignorance with some ulterior motive. Given the delicate nature of their current situation, Mr. Morris found it crucial to guard his thoughts and remain vigilant. He composed himself and responded, “As disciples blessed by Lahem, we don’t always maintain an activated ‘True Eye’. The last time I was here, I was simply a visitor without divine intervention. However, today is different.”

The elderly historian forced a melancholic smile and pointed to his eye. The monocle he had once used to amplify ritualistic effects was removed, yet a faint luminescent white glow emanated from one of his eyes. Upon close inspection, a surreal halo floated between the sclera and the dark pupil, resembling a protective barrier or a mark of his divine connection.

Intrigued, Duncan inquired, “So, you’re unable to turn off this effect now?”

Mr. Morris shook his head, his expression somber, “I’ve attempted multiple times, but it remains. Even if I succeeded, the outcome wouldn’t change. I’ve already glimpsed… what you truly are.”

Duncan, his voice tinged with remorse, responded, “I truly apologize. That wasn’t my intention. Once you depart, will you heal naturally? Or will you require specialized intervention?”

Mr. Morris paused, deep in thought. As a young researcher, he had speculated how the vast annals of history might lead him to encounter enigmatic and potentially dangerous entities. He had pondered the terror of facing a being from an incomprehensible depth or another dimension. But he never imagined that when the time came, it would unfold like this—

Here he was, facing a mysterious entity capable of driving one to madness. Yet, this “entity” was displaying manners, even showing empathy towards a human inadvertently traumatized by its existence.

Could humans truly grasp the “compassion” shown by a being from another realm?

Gathering himself, Mr. Morris replied, trying to sound reassuring, “I’ve felt better since you restrained your… aura. I believe I’ll recover in time.”

Duncan seemed genuinely relieved, “I’ll have to be more cautious in this city then. Having individuals like you, with such keen senses, can be rather challenging.” His ever-present curiosity took hold once more as he questioned, “Your visit today wasn’t just casual, was it? Why did you activate your ‘True Eye’ before entering the store? What or whom were you seeking?”

Mr. Morris’s heart rate quickened, anxiety building.

As he met Duncan’s gaze, he saw an unassuming middle-aged man, whose face displayed genuine curiosity and concern. However, surrounding that seemingly benign face and interspersed between the antique store’s shelves, nebulous, sinuous forms began to manifest once again.

It wasn’t until Duncan spoke again that Mr. Morris’s reality stabilized, and the unsettling visions faded.

“You seem hesitant, guarded, almost like you’re trying to avoid addressing my question,” Duncan observed, scrutinizing Mr. Morris’s evasive gaze. The way Mr. Morris’s eyes darted and the tension around them revealed more than he intended. Duncan felt he might have already pieced part of the puzzle together, “Does this have anything to do with Miss Heidi?”

Mr. Morris, caught off guard, stammered, “How did you…?”

Duncan continued, his tone even and analytical, “Heidi, from what I gather, is a practicing psychotherapist, and she too appears to be under Lahem’s discipleship, although not as deeply immersed or experienced as you. Reflecting on our previous encounters, I recall her departure alongside Miss Vanna. Something about her demeanor then struck me as unusual. Your earlier hesitation to my inquiries only confirms my suspicions.”

With a heavy sigh, Mr. Morris, recognizing the transparency of the situation and Duncan’s sharp intuition, admitted, “You’re right in your assessment. Upon Heidi’s return from her last visit, I discerned that part of her mental defenses had been breached. My initial thought was that there was a malevolent entity or force within this store. But to find out…”

He paused, glancing at Duncan, the implication of his discovery evident in his expression.

Duncan, meanwhile, was lost in contemplation.

The knowledge that Heidi, who had only performed a simple hypnotherapy session for Nina in this antique shop, could have compromised her psychic protection was both surprising and alarming. Duncan was unaware of this development until now, and it seemed Heidi too remained in the dark!

Mr. Morris, now slightly more composed, watched Duncan intently. Duncan’s contemplative state offered him a brief respite, allowing him to regain his mental equilibrium. He discreetly glanced at the stone bracelet adorning his wrist, counting the gemstones – four colored stones remained intact.

Lahem’s protective aura enveloped him, instilling a sense of calm, causing Morris to sigh in relief.

Duncan, breaking from his reverie, inquired, “She’s entirely unaware of this situation, isn’t she?”

“Yes, Heidi is completely unaware,” Mr. Morris affirmed, his voice firmer, especially when discussing matters concerning his daughter, “She hasn’t noticed the weakening of her psychic barriers, nor is she aware of the true purpose of my visit today.”

“In light of this, I shall refrain from approaching her on this matter. My apologies will be directed solely to you,” Duncan responded courteously, “Consider it my way of reciprocating the kindness you showed at the museum.”

Taking a moment, Duncan’s eyes shimmered with genuine curiosity as he asked, “Would you be willing to elaborate on your earlier vision? I’m genuinely interested in understanding how I appear in the perceptions of various ‘seers’. My own reflections don’t provide the clarity or insights I seek.”

Duncan’s earnest desire was evident. By understanding his “true image” through the perspectives of different individuals, he hoped to gain a clearer understanding of his unique abilities and unravel the mysteries surrounding his existence.

Mr. Morris found himself momentarily paralyzed in thought. The haunting, ethereal scene he had witnessed just outside the antique shop’s threshold replayed in his mind’s eye, threatening to disrupt the fragile equilibrium he had painstakingly established within himself. But Duncan’s unwavering gaze compelled him, and with a deep breath, he began to articulate his vision, his voice resonating with a gravitas born of raw experience, “What I saw… was truly beyond ordinary comprehension. You appeared as a towering entity encircled by swirling tendrils of radiant light. Your form seemed cloaked in a celestial tapestry resembling a starry blanket. And all around you, the familiar streets of our city were grotesquely warped, as if reality itself bent in your presence. In your arms, Nina was not the girl I recognized. Instead, she blazed like a fiery beacon, resembling an arc of flames bursting forth with unparalleled intensity…”

As he processed the initial segments of Mr. Morris’s depiction, Duncan nodded with understanding, as though this portrayal somewhat aligned with his perceived stature in other realms or legends he was familiar with. However, as the description shifted to Nina’s fiery transformation, Duncan’s composure cracked. He was visibly taken aback, nearly gasping in disbelief and spluttering in response. Managing to find his voice amidst his evident shock, he managed to say, “I’m sorry, could you repeat that last part? Nina appeared how in your vision?!”

Taken aback by Duncan’s unexpected reaction and a hint of concern creeping into his tone, Morris reiterated, “She was like… an intense surge of flames, erupting with overwhelming vigor. Is there something wrong with that image?”

For a moment, Duncan seemed utterly confounded, his eyes wide with astonishment and devoid of any immediate response.

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