Chapter 506

Chapter 506: Morris’s Teacher

Vanna went down to the lower deck, to the Prayer Room deep in the crew area. After she closed the door, she quickly set up the ritual field needed for Psychic Communication.

On the Boundless Sea, where conditions were limited, the ritual still used materials she could find on the ship. She used a large candlestick instead of a brazier and her own prayer book instead of the required sacred relic. On the floor she spread a mixture of salt and grease to draw storm runes and build the sacred space. Since this was already her second time, she was not as clumsy as before.

The feeling of a gaze suddenly came from the side, making Vanna, the inquisitor who was busy arranging the ritual field, stop in place.

She turned her head toward the source of that gaze and saw a round mirror hanging on the wall in the corner. Light and shadow rippled in the glass. A black-haired lady with hair falling over her shoulders was looking this way with curiosity.

From the mirror came Agatha’s voice: “Sorry, I did not mean to spy on someone else’s ritual. I was just drawn here by the noise.”

“It is fine. This is not a secret ritual,” Vanna said with a generous smile as she greeted this very special new “crew member” who had recently joined the Vanished. “I am about to contact the Cathedral ark.”

“Mm, I know. The ritual process of the Church of Death is a bit different, but I can more or less tell what you are doing. However…”

As Agatha in the mirror spoke, she suddenly stopped, hesitating.

“However what?” Vanna asked in confusion.

“…Is it really okay to set up a ritual site like this?” Agatha stared curiously at the scene in the cabin. “Using a candlestick instead of a brazier is still acceptable. Using an ordinary prayer book instead of a sacred relic… that barely makes sense too. But using coarse salt from the kitchen instead of the ‘purified salt’ blessed by divine blessing, and cooking oil instead of holy oil… Are the rituals of the Deep Sea Church really this free?”

Vanna suddenly felt a bit embarrassed. She said: “This… is mainly because the supplies on the ship are limited. We used up the holy oil earlier, and I forgot to replenish it when we were in port. But in my experience, it works fine.”

“…Then it seems you truly are a Saint deeply favored by the Goddess,” Agatha could not help sighing. “Most priests would never dare to borrow a deity’s power in such a casual way.”

The muscles in Vanna’s face twitched twice. She could only keep a straight face and reply: “Uh, thank you…”

“I will not disturb you then.” Agatha in the mirror waved her hand, and her figure slowly faded. “I will go see what Shirley is doing. The captain asked me to watch her do her homework…”

The mirror turned into a patch of darkness, then slowly returned to its normal reflection.

Vanna watched the lady in the mirror leave and stared blankly for a moment. Then she turned to look at the ritual field she had just arranged so carefully and slowly frowned.

“Is it really that makeshift?”

She muttered to herself with some doubt, then curled her finger and flicked in the direction of the candlestick. An invisible force ignited the candles at once. In the next second, the flames swelled and leapt, far brighter than normal candlelight. The runes drawn around the ritual field began to crackle, and the sound slowly mixed with the rising roar of waves.

“It works pretty well…”

Vanna thought this to herself, and in the next moment she let her spirit sink. Her mind and senses slowly immersed themselves in the surging sound of the waves around her.

The ritual drew down a deity’s gaze. The runes borrowed that deity’s power. Vanna let this power pull on her spirit and used it as a medium to call the distant Cathedral ark, waiting for Pope Helena’s response.

Psychic Resonance used a ritual to borrow the power of the Four Gods. That power strengthened the weak mental abilities mortals were born with, so they could communicate with priests far away who shared the same faith. This ancient divine magic was a skill every ordained priest had to learn. Even in these days of constant technological progress, even now that humans had created modern tools like telegraphs and telephones, this long-distance link between priests was still an important way for distant city-states to share information.

Vanna felt as if she entered a long, dark tunnel. Her soul raced through it. The walls looked like layers of black rock, but as she sped past, faint ripples seemed to move over that “rock”. They looked… as if they were about to come alive.

She put away stray thoughts, focused her mind, and held back any needless curiosity or urge to reach out. Vanna silently recited the rules she had long since memorized and tried her best not to get close to any solid-looking edge of this “tunnel”. Then she “saw” a glow slowly appear ahead.

Unlike the time she went to the Nameless King’s tomb to attend a “gathering”, today’s Psychic Communication only pointed toward the great Storm Cathedral on the Boundless Sea. At the end of the “dark tunnel”, a hazy, unreal space quickly took shape, and an elegant, dignified figure appeared in her sight.

Vanna stopped in front of that figure. Her own shadowy form quickly steadied.

“I salute you, Your Eminence.”

“No need to stand on ceremony, Vanna. This hardly counted as a public setting.” Helena’s phantom returned the salute, then asked curiously: “Why did you call me so suddenly? Did something happen on that ship?”

“Everything on the ship is normal—but something else has happened.” Vanna took a light breath, steadied her feelings, and then spoke slowly: “I am here to deliver a warning from Captain Duncan. The Vanished is warning the entire civilized world…”

Warm yellow light lit up the old shelves and ancient scrolls. On the wide walnut desk, delicate alchemy tools kept a complex chemical reaction going. In the large, old-fashioned study, an elderly elf with a plump figure and kindly face sat calmly by the desk. He was the leader of the Truth Academy and the Pope of Rahm, the God of Wisdom: Rune.

The old elf was gazing at the alchemy apparatus on the desk, but in his eyes the scene reflected there came from far away—

“The Vanished is warning the entire civilized world. We have confirmed a sign of awakening from the Elder God ‘Abyssal Lord’ in the Deep Sea beneath Frostholm. This process of awakening may appear again under any city-state. There is evidence that the Abyssal Lord’s flesh exists in all things…”

The short, plump, kindly elf silently listened to the voice from far away. His expression slowly grew serious. When the other side finally finished speaking, he rose from the desk and walked toward a bookshelf at the far end of the room. “Morris, if we made the most extreme parts of this message public, the whole world would see them as the most horrifying heresy in history. Even the Annihilators would think it was a bit too extreme.”

“There is no such thing as heresy on the road to Truth, teacher. In the ‘classics’ created by mortals, there are only two kinds: those that have already been overturned and those waiting to be overturned. You are the one who told me that.”

Morris’s voice sounded calm and powerful, with a hidden edge of stubbornness and courage. It made the elf elder think back to many years ago, when this gifted young human was still studying at the Truth Academy. Back then, he carried the same drive, digging for every answer and boldly questioning every problem.

Such curiosity and drive were blazing and dangerous in a scholar. Countless gifted youths used that force to climb the peaks of Truth at great speed. Many of them were struck down by the dangers of knowledge itself during the climb. Others managed to calm down and, under a mentor’s protection and mental guidance, learned to rein in their talent and sip the trickling stream of Truth with care.

A much smaller group, outstanding students like Morris, chose a third path—

In two years they mastered shooting with all kinds of light and heavy weapons, the use of blades and other cold weapons, demolitions, occult studies, self-defense arts, and mixed fighting techniques.

They were the pride of the Truth Academy and its affiliated combat school.

Rune stopped in front of the tall bookshelf and reached out to pull out a record book.

He opened it and slowly flipped through. On each page, the faces and figures of past students looked back at him. Their youngest days were preserved in the magic-filled pages. Some stood shyly. Some waved at the viewer. Some made funny faces. Some laughed out loud.

A young human stood in a classroom doorway with his arms crossed, looking this way with full confidence. Under the black-and-white image were the words “Morris Underwood” and his student record.

“Yes, I did teach you that. Mortals’ classics come in only two kinds: those that have been overturned and those still waiting to be overturned… There is no heresy on the road to Truth, because real Truth does not need anyone’s approval. It simply exists, forever…”

Rune murmured to himself. One of his eyes looked at the student on the page, while in the other eye the same student’s present face was still reflected—white hair already touched his temples, completely unlike the energetic youth in the record.

The lives of humans were very short. For elves, forming deep bonds with humans was actually hard and painful. These friends and students always grew old quickly, and before the elves could react, they turned into a handful of dust. Memories and partings came very suddenly. Every bit of sorrow arrived late, and always with regret that could not be undone.

Yet Rune still gladly accepted and taught apprentices from human society.

Because even in their short lives, these apprentices could show learning abilities that amazed the elves. The desire to explore and the many possibilities born from that short span of life were, in Rune’s eyes, precious traits in the pursuit of Truth.

Morris’s voice sounded in his mind again: “Captain Duncan thinks we must share every piece of information we have with the Four Gods Church and only keep some things back when we talk with the city-states and the Explorer Association. The Four Gods Church has both the power and the understanding to know how to handle this warning.”

“…That sounds quite reasonable, but has he considered another possibility?” Rune said slowly. “The contents of this warning are too shocking. They sound even more extreme than the heresies preached by the Annihilators. The Church might see it as a kind of… hostility, even as a new heretical doctrine. For some more conservative priests, their first reaction will not be to accept it as a ‘warning’. They will be more likely to treat it as an attack on their faith.”

“He does not care.”

“Oh?”

“The storm is coming, and thunder sounds first as a warning—but the thunder itself does not care whether mortals hide or not. That is the captain’s attitude.”

“…Reasonable.”