Chapter 18: Origins and Reasons

Chapter Eighteen
Origins and Reasons

Hearing Klein’s question, Dunn glanced out the window toward the corridor leading to Chanis Gate. Then he took out his pipe, filled it with tobacco and mint leaves, and brought it to his nose, inhaling deeply. His voice drifted faintly as he sighed.

“Only at home can I enjoy, without restraint, the wonderful scent of tobacco mingled with mint leaves… Klein, you know the creation myth, don’t you?”

“Of course. When I received my first education at the church’s Sunday school, I learned to read with The Revelation of Evernight. The chapters ‘Book of Wisdom’ and ‘Letters of the Saints’ both mention the creation myth.”

Klein slowed his speech as he searched through the original owner’s fragmented memories.

“The Creator awoke from chaos, broke through the darkness, and made the first ray of light. Then He wholly dissolved into the universe, becoming all things. His body became the earth and the stars. One of His eyes became the sun; the other became the red moon. Part of His blood surged into seas and rivers, nourishing and giving birth to life…”

At that point, Klein paused unconsciously. Partly because the memories afterward were blurred, and partly because this creation myth reminded him a little of the Pangu myth from his great foodie nation.

The imaginations of people in different worlds really did share certain common instincts when it came to myth and legend.

Seeing that Klein had run into a “difficulty,” Dunn smiled and helped him continue.

“His lungs evolved into elves. His heart evolved into giants. His liver evolved into treants. His head evolved into dragons. His kidneys evolved into feathered serpents. His hair evolved into phoenixes. His ears evolved into demonic wolves. His mouth and teeth evolved into mutants. His remaining bodily fluids evolved into sea monsters, with the essence becoming nagas. His stomach, His small and large intestines, and the evil parts of His body evolved into demons, evil spirits, and every kind of unknown wicked existence. His spirit became the Eternal Blazing Sun, the Lord of Storms, the God of Knowledge and Wisdom…”

“Humanity was born from His wisdom. This was the First Epoch, the Chaotic Epoch,” Klein said, speaking the final sentence himself. He felt both amused and faintly absurd.

As a keyboard folklorist, this was the first time he had encountered a creation myth arranged in such painstaking detail—detailed enough to list, one by one, exactly which part of the Creator had evolved into each noteworthy race.

It was like seating everyone in rows and handing out fruit.

And it was not only the scriptures of the Evernight Goddess that said this. The churches of the Lord of Storms and the God of Steam and Machinery contained similar descriptions, without separately exalting their own deity or degrading the rest.

That either meant the creation myth was truly historical fact, or it faintly revealed that before the Fifth Epoch, in a prehistoric era, the great churches had passed through long struggles and compromises before finally reaching agreement.

As these thoughts arose, another question abruptly came to Klein. His brow furrowed slightly.

“I find something strange. Why were the Eternal Blazing Sun, the Lord of Storms, and the God of Knowledge and Wisdom born directly from the Creator’s spirit, while the Goddess was not?”

According to the prehistoric records in The Revelation of Evernight, the Evernight Goddess did not awaken until the end of the Second Epoch. Together with the Lord of Storms, the Eternal Blazing Sun, and the other deities, She sheltered and aided humanity through the great cataclysm—what was commonly called the Third Epoch, the Cataclysm Epoch.

The Earth Mother and the God of Combat had also appeared in the same period. The God of Steam and Machinery, originally known as the God of Craftsmanship, would not be born until the Fourth Epoch.

With that, the relative standing among the gods seemed almost self-evident.

Older meant more orthodox. The hierarchy was perfectly clear.

This had caused a certain amount of difficulty among believers of the Evernight Goddess as well.

Dunn Smith held his pipe with his other hand. Instead of answering, he asked, “Recite the Goddess’s full honorific name.”

Klein immediately felt as though he had stabbed himself with his own hand. He hurriedly racked his brain and tried his utmost to remember.

“She is the Evernight Goddess, more exalted than the starry sky and more eternal than eternity. She is also the Lady of Crimson, Mother of Concealment, Empress of Misfortune and Horror, Mistress of Repose and Silence.”

Thank goodness. Klein’s mother had been a devout believer of the Evernight Goddess. While she was alive, she recited those words every evening and at every meal. Even though the original owner’s memories had shattered into fragments, they were not entirely lost.

“What does Lady of Crimson symbolize?” Dunn asked in a guiding tone.

“The red moon.”

The moment Klein answered, he seemed to understand.

“And which part of the Creator did the red moon evolve from?” Dunn asked again, smiling.

“A single eye!”

Klein and Dunn looked at each other and smiled.

That was not at all inferior in prestige to the Lord of Storms and the others, who had formed from the Creator’s spirit divided into three.

As for the churches of the Earth Mother and the God of Combat, they likely had similar explanations. Only the God of Steam and Machinery had “been born” too late and lacked a good excuse. For more than a thousand years beforehand, that church had remained weak. It was only after the invention of the steam engine, when they seized the first move, that they truly stood beside the others.

Dunn rubbed his pipe and said, “Humanity was born from the Creator’s wisdom, so humans possess clever and extraordinary minds, but lack other wondrous abilities. However, from the creation myth, we can draw one simple and clear conclusion: all things were born from the same source.”

“Born from the same source…”

Klein repeated the last few words.

“Based on that conclusion, humanity, under the shelter of the gods and in the struggle against giants, demons, mutants, and the like, gradually discovered a way to obtain extraordinary power. They used corresponding parts of evil spirits, dragons, monsters, magical trees, flowers, or crystals, combined them with other materials, and concocted potions. By drinking and absorbing those potions, they could grasp different abilities. This is common knowledge among all schools of mysticism.”

Dunn did not give an elaborate description. He only introduced it in brief.

“In that process, relying on painful lessons, our ancestors discovered that directly consuming high-grade, irregular potions often led to tragic outcomes. There were only three possible results.”

“Which three?” Klein asked curiously.

“First, spiritual death and bodily collapse, every piece of flesh turning into a terrifying monster. Second, one’s personality is instantly altered by the power contained within the potion, becoming cold, sensitive, irritable, cruel, and indifferent to all things. As for the third…”

Dunn set down his pipe, picked up the porcelain cup beside him, and took a sip.

“Felmer coffee from the Paz Valley. Bitter, but very fragrant. The aftertaste is excellent. Would you like a cup?”

“I prefer highland coffee from Feynapotter. Of course, I have only had it a few times at Welch’s home,” Klein declined politely. “What is the third?”

“Spiritual disorder. Madness on the spot. More demonic than a demon. That is loss of control.”

Dunn placed emphasis on the words loss of control.

Before Klein could speak, he put down the coffee cup and continued.

“After long experiments and exploration, and after the appearance of the Blasphemy Slate, humanity finally perfected the potion system, forming a number of sequence chains by which one could advance step by step, growing steadily. The lower the sequence number, the higher the grade of the potion. Today, each of the seven major churches controls at least one complete sequence, along with incomplete ‘pathways’ collected over hundreds or thousands of years.”

“The Blasphemy Slate?”

Klein keenly caught the term.

At the “gathering,” the Hanged Man had also mentioned it.

According to the Hanged Man, the Blasphemy Slate was the key factor in the formation and completion of the potion system.

That was not quite the same as what Dunn had just said.

“It is something produced by certain evil gods. As for when it appeared, what it recorded, what special qualities it has, even I am not very clear. If you ever discover any clues regarding it, you must report to me immediately. It has the highest response priority.”

Dunn gave a vague explanation.

“I just mentioned one kind of loss of control. Now I will explain the remaining four.”

“Mm.”

Klein put the question of the Blasphemy Slate aside and focused on listening.

“Although humans possess only clever minds and no other extraordinary abilities, that is not absolute. There are always certain fortunate ones—or rather, unfortunate ones—who are born with higher inspiration. Mm, that is the ability to sense spirits. They can hear sounds others cannot hear, see things others cannot see, and possess certain extraordinary traits.”

As Dunn spoke, he looked around the empty room, making Klein’s scalp prickle.

“In other words, they are equivalent to half a Sequence 9 Beyonder, possessing fixed characteristics. Ah, Sequence 9 is the lowest grade in the chain… In short, they can only choose the corresponding, fixed sequence pathway. If they consume a different potion, the light result is mental abnormality. The serious result is loss of control. More serious still, direct death.”

“Understood,” Klein said, nodding slowly.

“The third type of loss of control is similar to the second. Once you choose a sequence chain, you can only continue along that ‘pathway.’ You cannot turn back. If you consume a potion from another pathway at the appropriate sequence, there is a high chance that you will gain blended, strange, distorted abilities. But what is nearly certain is that you will enter a half-mad state: perhaps sensitive and irritable, perhaps cruel and bloodthirsty, perhaps silent and melancholy.

“And you will have only that one chance. Afterward, whether you consume a potion from your original pathway or from your current sequence, there will be only one outcome: loss of control. The only question is whether it appears as spiritual death, physical collapse into a monster, or transformation into an evil spirit.”

As Dunn spoke, he picked up the coffee cup again and took another sip.

Klein, listening with growing alarm, was silent for several seconds before asking, “What about the fourth kind?”

“The fourth… Heh. This is one of the most common problems. We drink potions and obtain abilities that originally belonged to extraordinary species. That is an unnatural evolution. More or less, we will be influenced by the lingering spirit within. Perhaps no symptoms appear and outsiders cannot perceive anything, but hidden traces surely remain within the heart. Before one completely masters the extraordinary power brought by the potion and removes those subtle traces, rashly consuming the corresponding potion of a higher sequence will accumulate madness and accumulate loss of control…”

Dunn suddenly fell silent.

After a pause, he sighed.

“Within the Nighthawks, the rule is that even if a team member renders great merit, they may only receive promotion after three years have passed since their previous potion, and after undergoing the corresponding examination. Even so, every year quite a number of people lose control because of this.”

Truly frightening…

Klein drew a breath.

“And the final kind?”

The corners of Dunn’s mouth rose without the slightest smile.

“The fifth is also a common cause of loss of control. For Beyonders, inspiration improves to a greater or lesser degree. The smaller the sequence number, the greater the improvement. As a result, they can hear voices others cannot hear, see things others cannot see, and encounter things others would never encounter. At every moment, they are subject to the temptations of the mysterious and the lures of illusion. Once some other stimulus appears, or a greedy desire rises, they move step by step toward loss of control.”

As he spoke, Dunn turned his full attention toward Klein. His gray eyes reflected Klein’s figure.

His tone became bleak.

“The founder of the modern Nighthawk system, Archbishop Chanis, once said:

“We are guardians, but also a group of poor wretches forever fighting danger and madness.”