Chapter 60 – The Bard

Lin Wei found Adele deep within the library.

She stood before a tall, black bookshelf, and upon hearing Lin Wei’s footsteps, she turned to him and said, “You’ve come.”

Lin Wei glanced at the tightly packed books on the shelf. They varied in thickness, and some of their spines showed obvious signs of wear.

“These are fairy tales and the poems of bards,” Adele said softly, her voice gentle. “Though they were already quite old when collected, few in the academy bother to read them.”

Lin Wei’s eyes held a hint of curiosity as he waited for her next words.

In the quiet of the hall, Adele’s voice seemed ethereal and distant: “And I am a frequent visitor here. I’ve practically memorized every book.”

“Do you like fairy tales?”

Adele didn’t directly answer his question. Instead, she turned her gaze back to the books on the higher shelves. “Fairy tales and poems occasionally hold truths. In my eyes, they are just as interesting as the Chronicles of Time.”

She continued, “For example, the silver-leathered book to your right… When I heard your alchemist friend describe the scene of your disappearance, I immediately thought of it.”

Lin Wei didn’t say much else. From Adele’s words this morning and now, it seemed she had some speculation about his disappearance—and while Sylvester knew nothing about the enhancement of his soul power, Adele could see it clearly.

He pulled out the thin volume, which contained rhythmic poems.

“The third chapter,” Adele said.

Lin Wei flipped to the third chapter of the book—its opening was a fairy tale poem:

In the spring when flowers bloom,

The gods gathered in the valley where the sun rises.

They competed and compared their strengths.

The God of Dwarves boasted of his mighty arms: “I forged an indestructible axe for the God of War. Our clan’s craftsmanship is unmatched.”

The God of Elves gazed at his reflection in the mirror: “We possess the longest lives and the most beautiful appearances. We love light and sing of life—what other race could be so perfect?”

The Mermaid God retorted in dissatisfaction: “If not for my race dwelling in the distant seas, unseen by all, how could such praise belong solely to the elves?”

The Fire God displayed his powerful magic: “No one’s magic is as fierce as mine. When I raise my hand, even the sturdiest ice must melt.”

The Water God immediately mocked: “You certainly can—if I did not exist.”

…

Lin Wei skimmed through these lines, which were nothing more than the gods’ boasts and disputes—a suitable bedtime story. That was, until he turned the page and saw the following passages:

The Goddess of Light polished her radiant sword: “No power compares to the sun—it is my blade and scepter. All races will bow and sing praises beneath its light, forever loyal.”

The Goddess of Darkness plucked her harp: “The living are under your dominion, but the dead are my followers.”

The gods, having heard this, turned their gaze to the God of Time—who had yet to speak.

The God of Time praised: “Gods, your greatness fills me with awe—the elves, the dwarves, the dragons, the faith of all things in the world belongs to the Goddess of Light. The east, the south, the west, and the north, the laws of space yield to the Goddess of Darkness’s harp. I alone have no weapons, skills, or magic.”

The gods were dissatisfied with this answer: “Every god has something special. How can you be the exception?”

The God of Time blinked his eyes: “Birth and death alternate in cycles. Past, present, future—all things in the world are within my sight.”

Lin Wei read these passages over and over, especially the parts about the Goddess of Darkness—the dead, space, and the harp.

He couldn’t help but feel astonished, because what he knew of the goddess was echoed in this fairy tale poem.

Adele noticed his reaction and said, “It seems my guess was not wrong… You’ve indeed experienced some kind of extraordinary encounter.”

His and Duan Yu’s sudden disappearance naturally led to thoughts of space magic, and after he had mentioned the plectrum’s use to Daniel, it was only logical for Adele to connect it to the Goddess of Darkness, especially if she was as familiar with these poems as she claimed.

Still, it was somewhat fantastical—a grown mage linking real events to fairy tales.

“It was indeed an extraordinary encounter,” he said, meeting Adele’s gaze. “Why do you like these stories and poems?”

“You are my student… Lin Wei,” Adele said slowly. “You know I come from the Astrology Tower, so you are not entirely unrelated to it.”

Alright—he was now inextricably tied to the Astrology Tower, and from her words, it seemed the tower was also connected to the fairy tales of bards.

Adele continued, “Few know that the first master of the Astrology Tower was a bard. Thus, we often hope to find fragments of his words in the poems passed down from the Dark Age, to gain some insight into his wisdom.”

“But in the books I’ve read, the master of the Astrology Tower was a wise scholar,” Lin Wei said.

“That’s because the first volume of the Chronicles of Time was his work,” Adele replied with a smile. “But he was indeed a bard. A line of his is engraved on the wall of the Astrology Tower’s main hall, and everyone who belongs here has it etched in their hearts.”

She paused before continuing, “The line is this… ‘We live in a great falsehood,’ signed ‘The Bard Aisa Yivis.'”

Lin Wei listened carefully. Without needing to ask, he knew Adele was about to share something of great significance.

“We took it as a warning from an elder, reminding us to always seek the truth. But I no longer think of it that way—I believe it is a statement. We live in falsehood; that is the truth.”

“Why do you think that?”

“This feeling emerged a year ago,” Adele said. “It was before your class arrived at Siren Island. Since then, strange scenes have often appeared in my dreams. As you know, in the eyes of those from the Astrology Tower, dreams and astral signs are of utmost importance. I cannot dismiss them, and as a summoner—what the ancients called a spirit channeler—I cannot deceive myself into believing these dreams are mere figments of my imagination.”

Lin Wei’s heart tightened—he had recently experienced a dream related to the goddess.

“The dreams contain many fragments—wars, death, and gods,” Adele said, looking at him. “We consider the first volume of the Chronicles of Time the sole precious text that describes the history and landscape of the mainland before the Dark Age, believing it to be absolutely correct. Yet its description of gods is limited to the people’s vague beliefs, never acknowledging their actual existence. But they do exist. My dreams, the bard’s poems, and your recent encounter all prove this—perhaps you’re unwilling to reveal the specifics of your experience, but I know it is indeed related to the legendary Goddess of Darkness.”

Adele’s eyes now held a bright, fervent light, different from her usual gentle depth—much like Sylvester’s when he spoke of the laws of space.

“It is indeed related,” Lin Wei replied. “So you believe the first master of the Astrology Tower wrote the Chronicles of Time but deliberately concealed the existence of gods?”

Adele nodded. “You’ve always been clever.”

“Then at least part of the history we know is untrue.”

“Correct,” Adele sighed softly. “I respect Aisa Yivis, but I also understand this fact: all records from the Dark Age were constructed by him alone. Their truth cannot be verified.”

Lin Wei voiced his doubt—unlike the convoluted speech of the imperial capital, mages often communicated with frankness, and it had taken him some time to adapt to this.

“If he truly concealed something, yet also left that line on the wall, it’s as if he admitted to his deception,” Lin Wei said to Adele. “And, Teacher… why are you so fixated on the issue of gods?”

“What I’m fixated on isn’t the gods, but everything that happened during the Dark Age,” Adele said. “That’s why I keep searching through the fairy tales passed down from that era, hoping to uncover some truths.”

“Whether gods exist, whether they are eternal, why the magic world became what it is, why there are five Elemental Valleys, what the Elemental Valleys guard, and whether they are related to the gods—none of these questions have reliable records. And until we know these things, we will never be able to address the current situation.” She spoke quickly, saying all this in one breath, then continued, “The Valley of Ice is already out of control. The Elemental Storm first affected the eastern seas and is gradually intensifying. Among the remaining families, only the Valley of Flame is still thriving. We dare not imagine what will happen many years from now.”