Chapter 238: The Philosopher

Chapter 238: The Philosopher

After silently examining it for several seconds, Klein stepped forward onto the staircase and carefully walked downward one level at a time.

The light around him gradually dimmed. Only gray, hazy color shrouded this world, which was silent to the extreme. The farther down Klein went, the more he felt as though he had been sealed inside a soundless room without light. Slowly, he could hear the gurgling movement of blood through his body and the powerful beating of his heart.

The latter grew faster and faster, slowly becoming stained with irrepressible anxiety and panic. Klein hurriedly restrained his mind and visualized layered spheres of light, stabilizing his emotions and restoring his state.

Beside him, the gray-white cliff wall representing Groselle’s subconscious realm stood coldly, silent as though dead. Yet from time to time, a point of light would flash within the surrounding gray fog.

Klein fixed his eyes upon it and saw, from one of those points of light, a giant tearing a human apart and stuffing him into its mouth, while Groselle watched in terror. At that time, the latter was not even three meters tall, clearly still a child.

The point of light flashed by, revealing twilight scattered over mountain peaks, frozen and unmoving. Even time itself seemed to grow sluggish here.

Klein was just about to search for more valuable information within Groselle’s subconscious when the sound of a beast-like panting suddenly rang beside his ears.

With a swish, an enormous hand stretched out from the surrounding gray fog. Its skin was gray-blue and covered in rotting traces, bearing obvious yellow-green fluids. It moved swiftly, grabbing toward Klein’s ankle.

Amid hoarse breathing sounds, identical hands rose one after another from the staircase below, grabbing upward as though seeking to drag Klein’s spirit body by force into the deepest, most unfathomable part of the mind world.

For a moment, those rotting hands were like a forest, like a sea, densely packed. They constantly struggled upward, reaching and emitting terrifying panting sounds that could make every hair on a person’s body stand on end. Frightened, Klein instinctively leaped upward, jumping over three steps.

However, the countless hands belonging to what seemed like giant corpses did not stop. They propped themselves against the staircase surface and wriggled upward like a tide, submerging every inch of space below.

Klein was about to extend his right hand and draw Death Knell, planning to use purification bullets with Slaughter to eliminate this endless swarm of “monsters,” when two questions suddenly flashed through his mind:

Where did these hands come from? Why would they appear in Groselle’s subconscious?

As soon as the questions appeared, inspiration followed. Klein vaguely understood something and immediately gave up on using Death Knell. He calmed his breathing and visualized spheres of light.

The rotting, enormous hands seized the opportunity to surge to his feet, grabbing toward his ankles and calves.

At that very moment, they vanished silently, as though they had never appeared at all.

“As expected, they were hallucinations produced by my being influenced by Groselle’s subconscious. Here, mind and mind not only directly face one another, they also fuse. Without corresponding Beyonder abilities, the deeper one goes, the easier it is to suffer emotional collapse, be corroded bit by bit by the other party’s subconscious, and eventually have the Mind Body severely contaminated, turning the entire person into an incurable mental patient. And that would very likely lead to losing control… This is different from spirit channeling. It cannot be avoided simply by staying clearheaded and rational, because one is already inside the target’s Mind Body…” Klein silently muttered, gaining some understanding.

He hesitated for a few seconds, then turned around and climbed upward along the staircase, no longer going deeper into Groselle’s mind world. He lacked Beyonder abilities that could soothe his own mind; forcing himself downward would be equivalent to suicide.

“I’ll consider further exploration after collecting mystical items in this area.” Klein confirmed his decision. He walked faster and faster, and finally leaped, returning to Groselle’s dream, back to the guards’ residence inside the Giant King’s Court.

He already felt tired. He immediately left the dream, passed through the wall of Groselle’s blacksmith shop, and once again examined the strangeness of the world inside the book.

“So far, I’ve encountered Groselle, Mobet, and Siatas. And earlier, when I was chatting with people everywhere, I also heard of the devout priest Snowman and the ‘philosopher’ Longzel. But there is no Anderson Hood, no Edwina Edwards, no Danitz, and certainly no Gehrman Sparrow…

“So is it only the dead who are ‘reborn’ in the book and given new characters? Or is it adventurers who once stayed here for a long time and fully displayed themselves in everyday life who are copied with a certain amount of subconscious?” Klein strolled along the edge of a street bathed in sunset glow, pondering this question that was extremely important to him.

If it was the former guess, that the dead would “revive” and become new characters, then Klein did not need to worry too much. But if it was the latter, he would have to reduce the frequency of his explorations in the book world and strictly control the amount of time he stayed each time.

“There’s no way to judge for now. I’ll respond according to the latter possibility first. Caution is never wrong…” Klein quickly made a decision and was about to return above the gray fog.

At that moment, he saw another familiar figure.

The black-haired, blue-eyed Longzel sat on a long wooden bench beside the street, staring blankly at the sky that looked as though it had been burned by fire. He seemed to be deep in thought.

Thinking that this former Loen soldier’s ashes were currently in his possession, waiting to be sent back to the Church of Storms cemetery in Backlund, Klein sighed soundlessly. He walked over and sat beside Longzel, asking as if making casual conversation, “What are you thinking about?”

“I’m thinking: who am I, where did I come from, and where should I return to…” Longzel did not withdraw his gaze. He spoke as though talking in his sleep.

Before Klein could ask more, Longzel shook his head and laughed softly.

“I have always felt I do not belong here, that I am not my present self, and that there is somewhere waiting for me to return.

“They laugh at me for always thinking about these useless questions, so they gave me the nickname ‘philosopher’…”

As he spoke, he looked at the setting sun and fell into silence once again, staring in a daze.

Klein said nothing. He quietly sat there with Longzel and watched the sunset for a while. Then he vanished without a sound.

Longzel did not notice that the person beside him had already left. Like a marble statue, he gazed into the distance, unmoving for a long time.

…

After finishing resupply, Alger Wilson commanded the Blue Avenger to leave the Resistance’s private harbor without lingering long in the Rorsted Archipelago.

He had to return to Pasu Island within the required time to report his duties.

At that very moment, inside the captain’s cabin, he watched with anticipation as an illusory door formed from spiritual materials and swelling candle flames appeared above the altar.

It was both the door of sacrifice and the door through which bestowal was received!

Amid an illusory creak, the mysterious door slowly opened, revealing endless depth and darkness within.

Light burst outward, then immediately drew back. When everything calmed, two items had appeared on the altar at some unknown time, while the door covered in strange symbols had vanished.

Alger remained extremely composed. He seriously thanked Mr. Fool, then ended the ritual according to procedure before reaching out to pick up the two items on the altar.

One was a neatly folded sheet of paper. The other was a transparent “jellyfish” containing azure seawater.

Alger first examined the latter and discovered that inside, wind would sometimes stir into whirlpools, silver-white lightning would flash from time to time, and distant, melodious singing would occasionally drift out.

“This voice has a feminine feeling… Looks like the owner of this characteristic was a lady.” Alger could not help letting out a breath of relief, because that meant it was not some quasi-high-ranking member of the Church of Storms who had been killed.

The Church of Storms had no female quasi-high-ranking members or high-ranking members!

After putting away the Ocean Songster Beyonder characteristic, Alger unfolded the paper, skipped over the section on main ingredients, quickly scanned the supplementary ingredients, and finally stopped his gaze on the ritual section.

To him, now that he already had the Beyonder characteristic, what the main ingredients were was completely unimportant; he could look at them later. The supplementary ingredients were all relatively easy to gather and did not require much attention. Only the ritual was of utmost importance:

“Consume the potion inside the belly of an Obninsk…” Alger silently read the ritual’s contents, and the corresponding information swiftly surfaced in his mind.

The Obninsk was an ancient sea monster capable of swallowing an entire sailboat whole. It had an enormous, twisted body, up to three heads, and tentacles tangled together in clusters. It was the protagonist of many legends at sea.

Most of this kind of sea monster had already been tamed by the Church of Storms and had fixed activity zones. Whether they possessed intelligence close to humans remained unknown.

“No wonder the Church controls the Obninsk rather than other sea monsters… No wonder the Sailor pathway has many Beyonders among pirates, but only a handful can reach Sequence 5. They either directly obtained inherited characteristics, or they are subordinates of the King of the Five Seas and the Queen of Mysteries… Then where should I go to find an Obninsk that does not belong to the Church?” Alger frowned slightly, thinking about how to advance while bypassing the Church of Storms.

His first reaction was to use Admiral of Stars Cattleya to find the Queen of Mysteries Bernadette and learn from her where an Obninsk outside the Church of Storms’ control could be found. His second reaction was that this carried the risk of exposing himself, because the corresponding Obninsk sea monster was very likely the Queen of Mysteries’s servant and would report everything it saw to its master.

“Mm. That will be the final option when there is no other way.” Alger’s thoughts churned quickly, and he soon had another idea.

That was to pray to Mr. Fool!

This revived existence had secretly taken control of Sea God Kavituwa’s original authority and could drive underwater creatures. It was possible that He knew where an Obninsk not belonging to any faction could be found!

“There’s no need to hurry. If I advance now, the uncontrolled dispersal of spirituality will be impossible to hide from others. I’ll wait until after reporting my duties and leaving Pasu Island before trying to pray…” Alger calmed himself, memorized the Ocean Songster formula, then brought the paper to the candle flame.

Watching the flames consume the formula faster and faster, Alger’s gaze grew increasingly deep.

After he finished handling the remaining traces, his eyes landed on a nautical chart and locked onto one location:

Bansy!

Alger had already planned to stop by Bansy on the way back to Pasu Island and look at the current state of that port.

He had already informed the sailors of this plan. No one had any objections, because they were equally curious as to why Bansy Harbor had suddenly been destroyed, and curious about what it had now become.