Chapter 179 “Feeling Guilty”

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Duncan thought back to the detailed account he had read in the ancient book:

During the Deep Sea Era, there were four primary deities who stood as guardians of the world. Among them was Lahem, the god of wisdom. This deity was unique because, similar to the storm goddess and the overlord of death, he held two starkly opposing powers within him. On one hand, he was revered as the bestower of wisdom, guiding those who sought truth and knowledge. On the other, he had sacred titles like the “God of Foolishness” and the “Gospel of Dullness.”

Even though Lahem was a powerful god, only a few brave souls chose to devote themselves to him. To even be considered a disciple of this god, one had to demonstrate immense worth by successfully navigating a series of demanding trials. But, once someone managed to pass these tests and was welcomed into the fold, they were rewarded with two special blessings.

The first blessing was the invaluable gift of wisdom. This granted recipients the ability to perceive the truth in its raw form, amass vast knowledge, intuitively grasp the nature and mechanisms of everything around them, and recognize pivotal truths that could shape their destiny.

The second blessing, seemingly in contrast, was the gift of dullness. This manifested as a protective barrier of ignorance, insulating its possessor from certain truths not meant to be unveiled yet and from the corrupting influences of subspace. In a world fraught with unseen dangers, where mysterious threats hid beneath the waves and foreboding clouds shielded the skies, possessing the gift of dullness was a remarkable advantage.

The Deep Sea Era was a time characterized by unexplainable phenomena and visions. The depths concealed lurking madness, and above, dark clouds always threatened. In such an environment, the boons granted by Lahem took on a profound importance. His disciples might be limited in number, but they were without a doubt the cream of society.

While lost in these thoughts, Duncan’s attention was momentarily diverted by the muffled sounds of Nina moving about in the kitchen above. The street outside the antique shop was settling into a peaceful evening, and the warm ambiance of the ground floor shop provided a comforting contrast.

Sitting 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 an invaluable treasure. Yet, it seemed that the very nature of his followers, with their inherent thirst for knowledge and the risks of their profession, made them even more susceptible to frequent dangers.

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

A realization dawned on Duncan. While he had always known there was something unique about him, he now found himself wondering, “Do all of Lahem’s disciples possess the ability to see my true nature, just as you do?”

Mr. Morris, rubbing his forehead as if in thought, replied, “Only the rarest among them, those who receive exceptional favor from the god of wisdom, possess such an ability.” He then added, his voice clearer but still tinged with an odd resonance, “You might find it ironic, but the majority of Lahem’s disciples aren’t truly… susceptible to your influence.”

With a peculiar look on his face, Duncan emphasized, “So, you’re ‘blessed’ in a special way,” the word ‘blessed’ sounded 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 caught off guard. He wasn’t sure whether Duncan was innocently uninformed or if he was purposefully feigning ignorance with some malicious intent. Considering the delicate nature of their current circumstances, Mr. Morris found it crucial to guard his thoughts and remain vigilant. He gathered 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 the aid of divine intervention. However, today is a different story.”

The elderly historian forced a smile, somewhat melancholic, and pointed towards his eye. The monocle he’d once used to magnify the ritualistic effects had been taken off. Nevertheless, a faint luminescent white glow could be observed emanating from one of his eyes. If one looked intently, they would notice a surreal halo floating between the sclera and the dark pupil, almost as if it was 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 to do so multiple times, but it remains. Even if I were successful, the outcome wouldn’t change. I’ve already glimpsed… what you truly are.”

Duncan, voice tinged with remorse, responded, “I truly apologize. That wasn’t my intention. Once you depart, will you heal naturally? Or will there be a need for some specialized intervention?”

Mr. Morris took a moment, lost in thought. As a young researcher, he had always speculated how the vast annals of history might lead him to cross paths with enigmatic and potentially dangerous entities. He had wondered about the sheer terror of facing a being from a depth beyond human comprehension or from another dimension. But he never envisaged that when the time came, it would play out like this—

Here he was, confronting a mysterious entity with the potential to drive one to insanity. But rather than being a malevolent force, this “entity” was displaying manners, even showing empathy towards a human who had been inadvertently traumatized by its existence.

Could humans genuinely understand the “compassion” shown by a being from another realm?

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

Duncan seemed genuinely relieved, “I’ll have to exercise more caution 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 a casual one, 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, all he observed was an unassuming middle-aged man, whose face displayed genuine intrigue and worry. 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 gave away 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, albeit she doesn’t seem as deeply immersed or as 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, seeing through 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 an adverse entity or force within this store. But to find out…”

He paused, taking a moment to glance at Duncan, the implication of his discovery evident in his expression.

Duncan, meanwhile, was engrossed 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 surprising and alarming. Duncan was oblivious to this development until now, and from the looks of it, Heidi too remained in the dark!

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

The protective aura of Lahem enveloped him with a sense of tranquility, causing Morris to sigh in relief.

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

“Yes, Heidi is entirely unaware,” Mr. Morris affirmed, his voice firmer, especially when discussing matters concerning his daughter, “She hasn’t perceived the weakening of her psychic barriers, nor is she privy to 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 replied courteously, “Think of it as my way of reciprocating the kindness you exhibited at the museum.”

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

Duncan’s earnest desire was palpable. By understanding his “true image” through the lens of different individuals, he hoped to gain a clearer perspective on his anomalous abilities and uncover the enigmas surrounding his being.

Mr. Morris found himself battling a momentary paralysis of thought. The haunting, ethereal tableau he had beheld just outside the antique shop’s threshold replayed in his mind’s eye, threatening to dismantle the precarious equilibrium he had arduously established within himself. But Duncan’s unyielding stare 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 manifested as a towering entity encircled by swirling tendrils of radiant light. It’s like your form is cloaked in a celestial tapestry resembling a star 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 an understanding acceptance, 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 bit? Nina appeared how in your vision?!”

Taken off guard by Duncan’s unanticipated reaction and a hint of worry creeping into his tone, Morris reiterated, “She was like… an intense surge of flames, erupting with overwhelming vigor. Is there something amiss 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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