Chapter 43 – The Sigh of the Stars

North.

The endless snowfall painted the low-hanging night sky, while the distant, continuous snow-capped mountains stood in silence amidst the relentless cold wind.

At the summit, a solitary tower, draped in snow, stood tall. As the snow gradually lessened, the flurries turned into fine snowflakes, and the stars slowly emerged from the night, kissing the towering spire.

The snowstorm, which had finally ceased, had lasted for many days, and the tower once again greeted the long-awaited stars.

Even a Mage who had never been to the North could, upon seeing this scene, immediately name the tower—for it stood closer to the stars than any other place.

At the top of the tower was a spacious terrace, where a young man in a light blue robe stood—from his appearance, he was indeed young.

He tilted his head slightly, gazing at the deep and vast starry sky. His eyes were paler than the starlight.

“Teacher,” footsteps sounded behind him, accompanied by the crunch of snow. A female Mage in a cloak approached. She had deep red hair and a calm yet gentle gaze—the kind of gaze that a woman who had weathered the years and retained her gentleness would have. “You’ve returned.”

“Qiu Na—how is the tower?”

“As unchanging as every day in the past.”

“You all always endure the monotony day after day,” he turned around, a pleased smile on his lips, “while I can never bear the loneliness.”

“The stars have granted you eyes that can pierce through time, allowing you to swim out of the ever-rushing river of time,” Qiu Na’s expression remained unchanged, her tone rhythmic, like a song. “Thus, you forever seek joy like a child, unwilling to live in the loneliness of the North.”

“Indeed, the days in the Main City of Kalaway are always so interesting—I greeted every female Mage I met, asked the bard for the stories played on his seven-stringed Harp, and interacted with the Mages returning from adventures at the Trade House,” he blinked. “This includes your daughter and her companions. Their lives are as fascinating and enviable as any young Mage’s.”

“The Magic Academy is always reliable, allowing us to send our unformed children there with peace of mind.”

“I’m glad I rarely show my face at the tower, or I would have been exposed when I met your lovely daughter—she would have said, ‘Oh, revered Creator God, who is this habitual liar? He’s not the appraiser Schneider but the irresponsible astrologer Adrishig, who abandoned the Star Tower in the North for the bustle and prosperity of the Main City. I shall report his whereabouts to my mother!'” He looked at Qiu Na with a half-smile. “I suppose you thought the same.”

The female Mage slightly bowed her head. “You are the master of the Star Tower, with the freedom to leave.”

Adrishig turned back to gaze at the low-hanging night sky. Occasionally, meteors streaked across the stars, leaving long trails of light. He spoke, his tone almost a sigh. “The stars—we watch them day after day, unraveling the secrets hidden in their intricate trajectories, yet we can never fully align them with fate.”

Qiu Na did not reply—perhaps she couldn’t, or perhaps she knew her teacher was speaking to himself.

After a long while, he spoke again, this time addressing Qiu Na. “If you miss your daughter, you can visit her on Siren Island—the new Seasonal Tide has yet to arrive, and the barrier has not yet risen.”

Qiu Na looked puzzled. “Didn’t you just meet her in the Main City not long ago?”

“I suspect she will return soon,” Adrishig said. “The journey is fraught with unpredictable dangers, and some things require the answers of elders—even if those answers may not exist.”

“Are you saying that Haitie, or her companion, has encountered an unsolvable question or danger?”

“Perhaps,” Adrishig gazed in a certain direction. “I’m sorry—it’s a question I cannot rashly answer.”

“I don’t know,” Qiu Na shook her head. “What question could you not answer?”

Adrishig continued to gaze into the distance, his expression calm, offering no further response.

Under the stars, only silence remained—as silent as the closed black wooden door in the Floating Sky Capital.

Haitie withdrew her hand from the door and looked at Daniel. Her beautiful red hair was disheveled, unlike its usual neatly combed state. “It won’t open. Perhaps he’s asleep.”

“The whole street could hear the knocking. How could that not wake an old man?—I bet he’s refusing to see us, just like Schneider, who said nothing after learning the whole story!”

“We’ll come again tomorrow morning,” Haitie said, her eyes showing faint traces of fatigue but also a strange, stubborn light. “If the result is the same, we’ll leave here and return to Siren Island. I’ll search through the library’s books for any records on Space Magic.”

“And the alchemist’s journals and records of magical items. A peculiar magical item should have left traces in history,” Daniel lowered his ice-green eyes. “Especially those related to the Harp—those that require the ‘Plectrum’ Lin Wei mentioned to play… When my classmates return from the Valley of Ice, I’ll question them about where that thing came from.”

Haitie covered her face with her hands, her voice trembling. “They might be lost in the endless spatial turbulence, but I can’t accept it… I’d rather believe that the Iron Law is lying.”

“This is all my fault,” Daniel said slowly. “If I hadn’t organized the ring that day, or if I had stopped Lin Wei before he touched it, they would still be here, safe and sound.”

“It’s not your fault,” Haitie lowered her hands, calming her voice as she looked up at the stars. “‘What happens in this world will happen to you.’ My mother once recited such a poem. If that thing could cause such consequences, then as long as it exists, no matter the conditions for its activation, it will happen—maybe in the past, in the future, even if it wasn’t Lin Wei and Duan Yu, it could have been you and me… could have been anyone. There’s no need for blame or guilt.”

The two turned and left the shabby alley. The usually carefree Fire Mage and the ever-energetic green-robed alchemist were now completely silent, walking away with the same heavy hearts. The light from the windows of the houses along the street stretched their shadows long on the ground.

“Do you think Haitie, upon learning what happened, might jump up in anger and burn that hateful Daniel’s hair off with Fire Magic?”

Lin Wei sat cross-legged on the stone bed—it was very hard, so Abel had come in handy. The entwined emerald vines covered the bed, making it much softer. He also took out the fur from the previous magical wolf, pondering how to process it into something that could either cover the bed or serve as a blanket.

“She can stay calm and might even try to find us.”

The two sat facing each other, Duan Yu’s right hand in Lin Wei’s grasp, with the Book of Contracts spread open between them. Lin Wei traced the symbols of the Common Language of the Continent on Duan Yu’s palm, while casually chatting about other things.

“But we won’t be found—since this cursed place was sealed, no Mage has been able to break the barrier and set foot here. Even if Haitie and Daniel seek help from the Academy or others…” At this point, Lin Wei added, “I’m still wondering, if the Plectrum brought us here, could its creator be related to this place?”

“Perhaps,” Duan Yu said. “If it has a purpose, we’ll find out eventually.”

“Right—we don’t need to speculate too much. As long as it doesn’t intend to trap us here or prevent us from leaving, everything is manageable.”

“Has it changed since we arrived?”

“No,” Lin Wei shook his head. “It’s still pitch black, and when I try to pluck it again, there’s no special reaction.”

“Your courage remains as great as ever,” Duan Yu remarked.

“At that time, I thought, even if it did react, sending us back to the Floating Sky Capital would be the best outcome. If not, we’d just be in another unfamiliar place,” Lin Wei smiled. “And at that moment, I tightly grabbed your robe to make sure I wasn’t sent away alone.”

—He was very grateful that Duan Yu had grabbed him when he plucked the strings. If he had been thrown into this cursed place alone, it would have been difficult to maintain the motivation and strength to find a way out. Now, although the prospect of leaving seemed distant, life wasn’t unbearable.

As they talked, the first page of the Book of Contracts was fully traced.

“That’s it—this page only has a few words. The format seems like a preface, maybe with a signature at the bottom.”

The two began the Book of Contracts during their sparring breaks, with Lin Wei waiting for Duan Yu to translate the symbols into human language.

Duan Yu spoke: “Life is far from its end, but I can say without hesitation that what I am about to write is the beginning of my life’s work.”

He paused, his long and handsome brows furrowing slightly. “Signature… Katanaphia.”

Lin Wei’s eyes widened.

This name was one no Mage could fail to recognize.

In mythology, the elemental deities—the Wind God Dirichlet and the Water God Asa, the Earth God Eisenstein, and most importantly, the two goddesses representing the other two types of magic beyond Nature Magic—the Goddess of Light Astherea and the Goddess of Darkness… Katanaphia!

This was likely not a repeated name. On the continent, it was common to name children after legendary figures or heroes—every hundred boys in the Empire would share the name of the Founding Emperor. But in the Magic World, they avoided using existing names when naming their children.

So, this was likely a book written by a figure only found in legends and myths? Did she truly exist?

“Wait,” Lin Wei suddenly remembered something. “That time we saw, the old man’s shop name…”

“Eisenstein’s Tomb.”