Chapter 453: Pointing to Divinity
This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation.com
Agatha vanished into the swirling wind, carrying light grey dust that gradually disappeared from Duncan’s view.
As the last remnants of the dust settled, Vanna broke the heavy silence. “She’s changed so much since our last meeting,” she said, her voice tinged with uncertainty. “Her final words were striking—they don’t sound like the Agatha we knew.”
Duncan, always pragmatic, replied, “Life’s experiences can reshape a person. Given what she’s been through, it’s not surprising. Her responsibilities now extend beyond those of a simple gatekeeper.”
Vanna, trying to gauge Duncan’s reaction, asked, “Aren’t you concerned at all?”
He responded calmly, “She’s remained steadfast. Profound shifts in understanding often lead to greater resolve. She might be burdened with the survival of the city-state, but she remains rational. Her closing remarks were clear.”
Vanna was silent for a moment. Duncan turned to her and asked pointedly, “Your real concern isn’t about Agatha, is it?”
After a brief hesitation, Vanna confessed, “My concerns are personal. I see a reflection of my own faltering faith and actions that border on heresy.”
Duncan waited, giving her space to speak.
Vanna continued, “I used to believe that all challenges could be met with strong faith and an unyielding spirit. I thought the gods set the cosmic order and we functioned harmoniously within that design. But now I realize this cosmic order is as ephemeral as sea foam. Mere belief and tenacity can’t save our city-state. The world as we’ve known it is being questioned…”
“Our belief in the eternal ‘Sun,’ the ‘metal ore’ that drives our era possibly being a gift from ancient deities, the realization that gods can’t shield the city-state from all perils, and the uncharted mysteries in the ocean’s depths, which no holy book has mentioned. Your arrival even challenges my long-held beliefs about subspace.”
Duncan replied thoughtfully, “On that last point, remain questioning. As for the rest, you’re largely right. Our understanding of the universe is inherently flawed. We can’t rely on a singular, unchanging ‘truth’ to explain everything. If such a truth exists, it’s beyond our grasp. So, having our beliefs shaken is a necessary step in our civilization’s progression.”
Vanna absorbed Duncan’s insights, lost in contemplation. After a long pause, she whispered more to herself than to him, “Then where do the gods fit into all this?”
Duncan replied candidly, “I don’t really know. My encounters with them, if any, have been distant. But two things I’m sure of: the four gods are real entities in this world, and they have, to some degree, been guardians and guiding forces of our civilization.”
Vanna’s face registered confusion. In her two decades of life, she had never heard anyone speak of the four gods with such detachment. This type of evaluation seemed almost blasphemous. Yet, coming from Duncan, who had experienced the enigmatic subspace, she couldn’t help but be affected.
His words struck her as chillingly analytical.
Her introspection was disrupted by Duncan’s voice, gently chiding, “Vanna, don’t overcomplicate things. You still have faith in Gomona, right?”
Without hesitation, Vanna replied, “Yes, my faith remains steadfast.”
“That’s just it. Your faith hasn’t wavered, and Agatha still puts her faith in Bartok. The fact that your gods haven’t forsaken you despite your evolving thoughts suggests that your introspections aren’t misaligned with their teachings,” Duncan spoke with conviction. “Questioning and doubting doesn’t equate to heresy. The truly devout maintain their faith even after wrestling with uncertainties.”
“It’s vital to strike a balance between strong faith and healthy skepticism. Embrace the world for what it is, acknowledge that your perceptions might be limited or biased, and accept the inevitability of your own doubts. If Gomona can hear your prayers about the Vanished, what isn’t within your capacity to accept?”
Vanna’s eyes instinctively darted towards the elevated city district, where the imposing Silent Cathedral stood tall atop Frost Peak.
She imagined Agatha making her way back to that cathedral via the “Grey Wind.” Would Agatha seek solace in her prayer chamber, reflecting on her recent alliance with the enigmatic “Shadows of Subspace” before the statue of Bartok? Would she ponder the future of the city-state and decide that “any hindrance to its survival is heretical, while all else can be tolerated”?
After what felt like an eternity, Vanna redirected her gaze from the distant cathedral and softly asked, “…Does the deity truly remain indifferent?”
“I can’t say for sure, but if I were in their shoes, it wouldn’t bother me,” Duncan shrugged nonchalantly. “From our perspective, neither the God of Death nor the Goddess of Storm seems particularly concerned. Perhaps their priorities lie elsewhere.”
As Vanna sank into deep contemplation, Morris, who had been observing silently, couldn’t resist commenting, “I never took you for someone who’d hold such profound views on faith. I always assumed you were indifferent to such matters.”
Duncan looked at Morris with genuine interest. “Why wouldn’t I be? I’ve always been fascinated by any ideology that attempts to elucidate the world’s mysteries.” He paused, noticing the confusion on the faces of both Vanna and Morris (Alice, as usual, remained oblivious). With a playful smile, Duncan teased, “There’s no need for concern over the affairs of the city-state right now. Perhaps it’s time we delve into the ‘Book of Blasphemy.'”
…
In the quiet, Shirley nodded off, the fourth math card still in her hand.
A faint clinking of chains filled the air. Dog, ever so gently to avoid disturbing her slumber, used a paw to stabilize the dark chain. Sitting upright, he carefully draped a blanket over Shirley with his mouth. With another paw, he cleared the table of the math cards, ensuring they wouldn’t be tainted by Shirley’s drool.
As Dog set about organizing the room, his attention was drawn to the math cards on the table. Each card displayed basic arithmetic problems. He paused and mused, “Has she managed to answer most of these correctly?”
Intrigued, he whispered softly to himself, then glanced at Shirley. She had shifted in her sleep, murmuring indistinct words, with a delicate trail of saliva shining at the edge of her lips.
“She must’ve put in quite an effort,” he concluded.
Shaking his head with a mixture of admiration and amusement, Dog lay back and, after some internal debate, stretched out a paw to pick up a book from a stack on the floor. The book was his.
At first glance, the book looked ordinary—a common paperback that could be found in any bookstore within the city-state. The title “Algebraic Computation” was embossed on its front.
Dog leaned down, his eye sockets glowing a deep, unsettling red, casting flickering shadows as he studied the book’s cover. He hesitated briefly and then slowly flipped it open.
Suddenly, he snapped his head up, scanning the room with heightened vigilance.
The bookshelves seemed undisturbed. The room’s dark nooks remained tranquil, beams of sunlight penetrated the window, and the gentle rhythm of waves could be heard from outside.
“Alright, the surroundings are secure, potential distractions are minimal, and the book is still related to mathematics… it’s time for the third attempt,” Dog muttered, prepping himself.
With renewed determination, Dog dived deep into the book’s content, absorbing the formulas, internalizing the symbols, and working through the calculations. He sought to unravel the mysteries of the universe using the collective knowledge passed down by generations.
Initially, distractions and stray thoughts fragmented his concentration. But soon, the intricacies of math began to weave a cocoon of focus around him. The subject drew him in, engrossing him completely.
As numbers and symbols swirled in his mind, painting a vast tapestry of comprehension, Dog felt an unfamiliar sensation. It was as if he wasn’t alone in his quest for knowledge.
Someone else was reading the same lines.
Someone else was processing the same thoughts.
An unseen presence was observing his journey with quiet interest.
Perplexed, Dog tilted his head.
Beneath the stark white pages, between the neatly printed words, and amidst the intricate web of knowledge crafted by symbols and diagrams, a radiant red glow, encircled by a myriad of tiny, luminous points of light, regarded him with an intense focus akin to an eye.
Dog stiffened.
He was transfixed by the mesmerizing red gleam.
Drawn inexorably closer, he felt as though he was floating towards this constellation of radiant points.
But this sensation was short-lived.
Suddenly, an overpowering force originating from the mysterious chain he wore jerked him back to reality, breaking the spell that the pulsating red light had cast.
Stunned, Dog gasped, his senses reeling from the abrupt interruption. Almost reflexively, his gaze darted to the black chain draped around his neck.
It was this very chain, and the mysterious power it harbored, that had saved him in that crucial moment—evidence of Shirley’s protective influence.
Yet, upon inspection, the chain lay slack on the floor, showing no signs of recent movement.
Further along the chain, Shirley remained undisturbed, nestled comfortably on the table, still lost in the land of dreams.
She had not stirred, not even slightly.
Maybe it wasn’t Shirley but rather his nature as an entity from subspace / descendant of the Nether Lord that saved him?
I’m quite sure that that red glow is the God of Knowlege, and we know that the Gods and the Nether Lord are not friends (likely even enemies if that part about the Kings written in that Book of Blasphemy is true)
Thus maybe the Nether Lord protected Dog from that Gods influence?
But why tho? Why is Lahem trying to take Dog? Is it because he needs a pawn as spy inside the Vanished Crew?
He already got Morris if he wants a spy. It was Lahem who guided Morris to go to the Antique Shop and seek help from the entity there.
“Frankly, if Gomona can hear your prayers about the Disappeared, what isn’t within your capacity to accept?”
About the Disappeared? I’d say instead “onboard Vanished”, because I can’t recall any Disappeared with capital D.