Chapter 731: The Enigmatic Ancient Artifact

Daniel came to a stop in a plaza.

He settled onto a bench and closed his eyes to rest, but his fingers tapped lightly on the armrest beside him.

Invisible streams of data flowed through the network. A distant consciousness, standing by, responded to the bishop’s summons. With a subtle ripple in the air, a female cleric in a white robe appeared before Daniel, bowing respectfully. “Bishop, you called for me?”

“Hm,” Daniel opened his eyes slightly and nodded. The woman before him was Dana, a subordinate he had nurtured for years within the Sleeper’s Order. Her loyalty was unquestioned, and he had promoted her to the network security division. Still, she was only an assistant—no one with clearance to know about her master’s true identity. “Dana, there have been some rumors circulating in the network lately.”

“Rumors?” The cleric frowned, momentarily puzzled.

Daniel projected several pieces of information he had just seen—clear text floating in front of Dana.

To be honest, Daniel hadn’t paid much attention at first. The psychic network connected countless followers, many of whom were either bored or overly neurotic. Every day, countless useless bits of information flowed through this vast network, and the most sensational, bizarre ghost stories were often just part of that noise.

But when he casually checked the statistics on these rumors, he couldn’t help but take notice.

These seemingly baseless tales had appeared more than once in the past two weeks.

Dana studied the information carefully, then nodded after a moment’s thought. “Yes, Your Excellency, there have indeed been such rumors recently. But after investigation, they were all found to be unfounded.”

“Investigation?”

“Yes,” Dana replied. “The Watchers patrolled the Dream City extensively but found no abnormal voids. The network administrators reviewed all connection logs—no one suddenly disappeared or experienced abnormal disconnections. The followers who claimed memory loss were later found and examined; no brain abnormalities were detected. The supposed amnesia was likely caused by mental imbalance and delusions from prolonged network connection.”

“Just delusions and rumors…” Daniel murmured. “But there’s more than one report…”

Dana opened her mouth as if to say something, but both of them paused.

An invisible breeze swept through the Dream City. A citywide broadcast announcement echoed from the Great Temple at the center, spreading through the entire network. Every Sleeper in the city instinctively looked toward the temple, Daniel included.

In his vision, a message from the Pontiff appeared:

“Regarding recent rumors of psychic network anomalies, voids appearing in the network, sudden disappearances of connected individuals, and memory loss after disconnection—all are falsehoods. Members of the Order are advised not to believe such claims…”

When the announcement ended, Dana blinked and looked at Daniel. “Bishop, it seems the High Pontifical Council’s investigation has concluded. These are indeed just rumors.”

“Rumors…” Daniel muttered softly, waving a hand. “Very well. I have no further business. Attend to your duties.”

“Yes, Your Excellency.” Dana bowed and stepped back, vanishing amid a shimmer of rippling light.

Daniel shook his head and scanned the plaza.

A faintly glowing, swirling orb of light drifted across the ground, moving swiftly and silently.

That was one of the so-called Watchers—not manually controlled, but rooted in the psychic network, operating according to specific logic. Like autonomous magical constructs, they tirelessly patrolled the entire network and the Dream City itself, covering even more ground than the Sleeper followers.

The Watcher approached the bench where Daniel sat and gently bumped his leg. Receiving no response, the orb retreated slightly before nudging him again.

Not very smart, but dutiful.

In theory, the Watchers never overlooked any anomaly in the psychic network. These rumors might indeed be the fabrications of bored minds, but… it was still worth reporting to their master.

Daniel rose and took a step forward, his figure dissolving into a ripple of phosphorescent light.

…

In Cecil City, inside the high-tech laboratory of the Arcane Technology Research Institute, a group of senior magitech engineers, runesmiths, and traditional mages and scholars borrowed from other institutions gathered around an experimental table, eyes fixed on the object before them:

A massive tome bound in black leather, its age impossible to determine.

Gawain stood among them, alongside Rebecca and Jenny, who both stared wide-eyed. On his right were the inscrutable Kamail and the ever-impassive Veronica. At their feet lay Tyr, dragged along to fill the numbers but now fast asleep, snoring softly.

The “Ultimate Tome” was a mystery to all. No one recognized it, nor could anyone explain its principles. Even the most learned scholars were baffled.

So Gawain had gathered experts from various fields, hoping these accomplished professionals could at least offer some insight or a new approach to unlocking the book’s secrets—not necessarily to decipher it outright, but to find a way forward.

He had even brought Tyr along, hoping the sea witch’s arcane knowledge might help—though that seemed a misguided hope.

The salty fish glanced at the Ultimate Tome once, declared ignorance, and promptly fell asleep. She’d been out for nearly an hour now. Not even cold water, or boiling water for that matter, could rouse her.

Gawain had tried. It was hopeless.

And she sprawled across the floor, taking up a lot of space.

Gawain shook his head, nudged Tyr’s tail aside with his foot, and stepped forward. “Anyone have any ideas?”

Pittman, standing at the front, turned and stroked his perpetually growing beard. “Your Majesty, honestly, there’s nothing to be gleaned here.”

Gawain sighed. “Not even your experience can offer a clue…”

The implication was clear: even with your double life as a traitor to two cults, your experience isn’t enough?

Pittman showed no shame, answering calmly, “Bertilla and a whole bunch of the End of All Things’ higher-ups have been studying this for centuries without progress. What use is my experience?”

The meaning was clear: a cultist’s career isn’t measured by how often they switch sides, but by actual time served. Though he’d jumped between two cults, his real work experience was limited, and he’d never come into contact with a top-tier artifact like the Ultimate Tome.

“Your Majesty, I’m sorry, but we have no leads either,” Jenny approached, head bowed. “Though some parts of the book bear runes, they’re in an unknown script with too few samples to analyze patterns. I also suspect those runes aren’t the book’s true functional structure. Its power likely comes from a more complex, advanced mechanism.”

Kamail nodded, his voice buzzing from the shimmering arcane aura around him. “The manufacturing techniques are lost to us. We can’t understand how it works. It may come from a civilization far more advanced than ours, or one with a completely different technological path. If the latter, analyzing it will be even harder. We might not even tell if the patterns on the pages are mere decoration or functional structures, or whether the cover is protective or conceals deeper secrets…”

Veronica gripped her platinum staff, regret in her voice. “Moreover, it’s damaged. The End of All Things may have been too rough with it, destroying an invaluable ancient relic. If it still functioned, analyzing it would be much easier.”

Gawain’s expression grew awkward.

Fortunately, most eyes remained fixed on the book.

“Kamail’s guesses make sense. Maybe both are right,” Gawain cleared his throat, steering attention away from the lament over the damaged artifact. “The End of All Things found the Ultimate Tome in a very ancient underground ruin. It was protected by an ancient device no one understands or can replicate.

“There’s a theory that before the First Great Expansion, even before our current mortal civilization, the world has seen many cycles of civilizations. So we can boldly speculate that this book is an advanced relic from one of those previous civilizations.”

The technicians whispered among themselves. Such talk of prehistoric civilizations was somewhat heretical, but in Cecil’s academic circles, challenging orthodoxy wasn’t unusual. Though some found it incredible, if it aided research, scholars didn’t mind entertaining such ideas.

“Too bad there’s only one copy. Once it’s damaged, it’s gone,” Rebecca sighed. “Otherwise, slicing it open might reveal something…”

“Hey, hey, it’s already broken,” Amber chimed in eagerly. “Maybe cutting it open now—”

Before she could finish, Gawain pulled her aside. “No mischief!”

“Right now, we can only study the book’s structure and principles indirectly,” Kamail buzzed. “First, we’ll use a crystal resonator to test for crystallized rune structures inside. Then, an arcane detection array to stimulate it with specific energies and observe any reactions. It’s a conservative but effective approach. If our instruments are precise enough, we might map out some hidden magical patterns. Even partial results would be a huge step forward.”

This seemed the only viable plan—though slow, at least it was a start.

The research plan was quickly finalized. The experts began to leave in turn, and soon only Gawain remained in the lab.

Along with the salty fish who had slept through the entire session, having been accidentally stepped on multiple times without waking.

Gawain glanced once more at the Ultimate Tome on the table. After everyone left, a sturdy steel fence rose around the table, glowing shields enveloped the enclosure, and armed guards stood outside. The book was well secured.

He turned to leave, but as he took a step, a cool sensation brushed the edge of his palm.

Looking down, he saw a long snake tail swaying beside him, its chilly tip poking at his hand.

The tail’s owner was rubbing her eyes, rising from the floor.

The salty fish had awakened.

“I actually have a suggestion,” Tyr yawned widely. Just as Gawain thought she was getting up to greet him before returning to sleep, she spoke seriously, “Why not ask the Mithril Treasury?”

Gawain frowned. “The Mithril Vault?”

“We sea hags don’t really keep up with the rise and fall of land civilizations. Ancient relics aren’t exactly my specialty,” Tyr retracted her tail, curling herself up carefully as she spoke lazily. “But there’s another ancient race that’s been watching the surface world all along… The dragons are behind the Mithril Vault. Officially, they’re just safekeeping clients’ entrusted items, but if you look at history, they’re actually collecting relics from various civilizations. So… do you think their vault might hold another copy of the ‘Ultimate Tome’?”

Tyr paused, her eyes fixed on Gawain. “Or maybe something from the same era as the Ultimate Tome.”

Just as Gawain had suspected, for an ancient and powerful civilization like the sea hags, the dragons behind the Mithril Vault were no secret at all.

He looked at the creature who had been sound asleep just moments ago, seeming utterly lazy. “So you weren’t really sleeping just now, huh?”

“I was sleeping,” she replied, “but I’m naturally sensitive. Even in dreams, I can hear things and think about them.”

“That’s pretty impressive,” Gawain smiled, then nodded gently. “Thanks for the tip—maybe I should get in touch with that agent after all.”

“That’s your problem now,” Tyr said, stretching her tail as she waved a paw and shuffled toward the door. “Anyway, good luck.”

Gawain watched as the sea hag waddled out of sight, then moments later heard her voice echo down the hallway: “Hey, why are there footprints on my tail!?”

…Who was it that said she was so sensitive even in her sleep again?

(End of chapter)