Chapter 82 – The Hourglass Reversed

The room was densely packed, with no windows. The ceiling served as the source of illumination—a starry sky, but here, it was a slowly flowing river of stars.

The walls of the room were lined with reddish-brown wooden shelves, filled with hourglasses of all sizes. At a glance, there were hundreds, even thousands of them. The largest ones required one to look up to see their tops, while the smallest were no bigger than a finger. Milky white sand flowed down at varying speeds within their containers. The moment one stepped into the room, the subtle “shhh” sounds from all directions filled the ears.

“This used to be my favorite room,” Adrishig said as he glanced around the hourglasses, his eyes filled with a strange sense of nostalgia. “You already know my background, so there’s nothing left to hide. From a certain perspective, I’ve traveled across the entire continent and done many interesting things, but time is just too long—I had to find something even more fascinating to do, like conversing with these enchanting hourglasses.”

“Their sounds make me very uncomfortable.”

“If you stay here long enough—you’ll get used to it. I call it the ‘sound of fate.'”

Lin Wei gently flicked one of the hourglasses in front of him, flipping it over.

He thought that seeing an hourglass and flipping it over was a natural, unconscious action for anyone, nothing to be blamed for—but the moment the sand began to flow in the opposite direction, the “shhh” sounds in the room paused for a brief moment, and then something astonishing happened:

Without anyone touching it, an hourglass above spontaneously flipped over, and then the action began to spread—until almost all the hourglasses were swaying uncertainly. The largest hourglass creaked as its axis turned a full half-circle, nearly crushing Lin Wei beneath it. By the time the thousands of hourglasses stopped turning, with only a few still moving, and the sounds returned to normal, a long time had passed.

“You’ve already discovered its fun on your own… I placed a small spell here,” Adrishig said, standing behind Lin Wei. He was slightly taller and leaned down slightly, resting his chin on Lin Wei’s shoulder, his arm attempting to wrap around him.

The gesture was far too intimate, and Lin Wei didn’t feel he had any significant relationship with someone of such a complex background. He frowned and pushed the arm away.

“When I see young and vibrant mages, I can’t help but want to get closer—I hope you don’t take it as an offense,” Adrishig sighed.

Lin Wei had no intention of engaging in this meaningless conversation and spoke bluntly, “Continue with the magic.”

“Right, the magic… I connected all the hourglasses, and they follow the rules I set,” Adrishig picked up a small hourglass and pointed to the largest one. “For example, when this one empties, the one in my hand will flip.”

He then looked at two frequently flipping hourglasses side by side. “Look at those two—the weight of the sand that hasn’t flowed down in one must always equal the weight of the sand that has already flowed down in the other.”

“I spent a very, very long time—roughly the lifespan of two Tower Masters—establishing the most perfect, error-free rules. Once these rules were set, the flow continued on its own, endlessly. If one hourglass is disrupted, the entire flow is affected. They go through a period of chaotic activity before eventually returning to normal.”

“The one you disrupted wasn’t even the most crucial—I once flipped each of them one by one, and the second-longest disruption lasted thirty years.”

Lin Wei met his gaze, which looked at the hourglasses as if they were beloved toys, and felt that the man was talking about the hourglasses, yet not just about the hourglasses.

“As for the longest disruption, I don’t know how long it would have lasted. After waiting for a very, very long time, I thought that perhaps there was indeed a flaw in my rules, and the hourglasses simply couldn’t find their way back to the right path. I felt sorrow, fell into despair, and eventually just dispelled the magic and re-applied it. Only then did they return to normal.”

Adrishig’s mood soured, like a petulant child, his voice muffled, “After that, I stopped liking it as much.”

Lin Wei suddenly felt a pang of pity for the man.

Infinite time had turned him into a profound yet eccentric child.

Adrishig nudged him with his elbow, “Seriously, have you considered learning the Great Prophecy from me? Spirit Channelers have a unique talent for such things. Adele’s Great Prophecy is excellent.”

Lin Wei couldn’t quite follow his train of thought. The sudden temptation was indeed immense, but after some consideration, he declined, “But I really don’t have the time to learn anything else.”

The Book of Contracts and magic arrays filled his days, leaving little time for his primary focus of summoning contracts. He hadn’t actively sought out Teacher Adele in days.

“I know,” Adrishig said gently, looking at him. “The Book of Contracts will make you feel as if you’re very foolish. You’re still greedily studying things meant for elemental mages, and the rest of your time is filled with confusion, worry, random thoughts, and sweet love that occupy your mind and heart.”

As he spoke, he seemed like a loving elder, but the content of his words was startling. Lin Wei felt as if his past and present had been thoroughly dissected, picked apart, and neatly laid out.

“But refusing is useless,” Adrishig blinked. “I’ve already taught you the very core of the Great Prophecy.”

Lin Wei shook his head in confusion.

“Time, space, fate, rules—everything you want to know and don’t want to know is displayed in this room—don’t you understand?”

Lin Wei nodded.

Adrishig sighed and pressed his forehead, “You foolish little brat—I’m giving you this room. You have plenty of time to ponder these questions.”

Lin Wei stared blankly at the hourglasses, recalling the way Adrishig had addressed him along the way, from “little one” to “little thing,” and now “foolish little brat.”

He had also learned some astonishing truths, been tempted by the Great Prophecy, and now owned a room filled with hourglasses in the Astrology Tower.

Adrishig stood with him for a while, then lightly opened the door and prepared to leave.

“Wait,” Lin Wei called out to him. “You haven’t answered the initial question.”

“Instead of thinking about the perfect answer, you’re fixated on a superficial explanation,” Adrishig clicked his tongue, answering irritably, “Of course—if there’s space magic, there might also be time magic, like jumping from one time to another just as one moves from one place to another. Unfortunately, it’s as difficult as an ant trying to flip the largest hourglass.”

As he stepped out the door, Lin Wei called out again, “Hey.”

“What?”

“Why are you telling me all this?”

Adrishig leaned halfway against the doorframe, “For fun.”

Lin Wei: “…”

He thought that if Katanaphia had the ability to foresee the future and knew that the strange bard from back then had turned into this, she might not have helped him escape the Goddess of Light…

Well, there was one thing to be grateful for—this man could at least be confirmed to be on Katanaphia’s side, opposed to all other gods.

He aimlessly continued to watch the flowing, occasionally flipping hourglasses. After who knows how long, the door opened again. He turned to find that it wasn’t Adrishig, but Duan Yu.

Lin Wei: “Did Schneider send you here?”

“He left a message for you.”

“What message?”

“He said that he’s going to the Floating Sky Capital to visit an old friend for the next few days. Don’t leave here easily—there are bad people outside.”

Lin Wei: “…Anything else?”

“Tell that little thing that if he can’t figure it out, he shouldn’t bother—it’ll drive him mad.”

Lin Wei gritted his teeth, “That old man.”

Duan Yu: “Old?”

“Exactly!” Lin Wei finally burst out angrily. “He knows everything! We came all the way here to tell them what’s happening outside, but he—”

“He’s the damned Aisa Yivis, the Tower Master from the first generation to now, the author of the deceitful first volume of Chronicles of Time, the name written on the shipwreck registry—I have no doubt he’s been involved in the construction of the Valley of Elements, the sunken ship, and those magic arrays!”

After saying all this, he deflated like a popped bubble. “With someone like him still alive, there’s nothing left for us to do—we might as well fly back to the academy and obediently study our magic arrays, leaving the gods who crawled out of nowhere for him to deal with.”

Duan Yu didn’t respond until Lin Wei’s gaze clearly conveyed a desire for an answer.

“He also said, ‘If that little thing wants to dump some troublesome matters on me, tell him—don’t dream about it. My strength hasn’t improved at all over the years. In the face of the gods, all I can do is hide in the tower and wait for death.'”

Lin Wei wanted to bite Duan Yu in frustration, “Is there anything else—not a single word less!”

Duan Yu: “…Yes.”

Lin Wei gritted his teeth, “Say it.”

“By the time you finish relaying all this, that little one will be very angry—thankfully, I’ve already prayed to the goddess to keep him from dying of anger, so he’s not very angry yet. If you’re willing to hug him, he’ll immediately feel better and be very grateful to me.”

After a mental struggle, Lin Wei finally gave up and stood in front of Duan Yu, “Then why aren’t you coming over…”

After successfully calming his emotions, Lin Wei reluctantly admitted, “Alright, I do feel a bit grateful to him.”

He looked at Duan Yu, “Do you know how you actually came to be? The entire Valley of Metal, and your family.”

“He answered three of my questions. I used one of them to trick out some truths from the end of the Dark Age… Of course, part of it was my own guess.”

“He’s searching for the goddess—the war among the gods, regardless of what happened to the others, the Dark Goddess Katanaphia disappeared. At the same time, as we discussed many days ago in the swamp, dark elements truly existed on the continent, but they vanished along with the goddess, perhaps taken by her. The elements were originally harmonious, but with one crucial piece missing, they could no longer find balance with each other, descending into chaotic elemental storms.”

“To quell the elemental storms, people tried to add another element to restore balance, but it required too much power… They received the help of the Spear of Longinus. The Holy Spear sacrificed half its power, making the metal element, which was close to its own essence, one of the primary elements.”

“But I suspect things didn’t improve, because he said it was a failed attempt. Only after such a failure did the mages finally decide to abandon the environment of dense elements, building the Valley of Elements in exchange for the continued survival of magic.”

Lin Wei paused suddenly at this point.

The dark elements disappeared, chaos ensued, the Valley of Elements was established, and peace was restored—it was somewhat similar to the flipping and stopping of the hourglasses.

Adrishig said this room was everything—what else was he trying to tell him?