novelraw Chapter 415: Vortex of Wisdom (6k)
Chapter 415: Vortex of Wisdom (6k)
Almost simultaneously, within the Sixth Heaven suspended in the dark deep space above the Fifth Heaven, the red-haired Archangel Michael—possessing three pairs of illusory large wings—rapidly cleaved through layers of dense Aether, making his way upwards. He swiftly landed before the massive gates of the Vortex of Wisdom. Subsequently, sweeping a glance around the deathly still Vortex of Wisdom, he seemingly harbored a sigh of lament over a long-parted separation.
Back then, before Archangel Gabriel was tormented to madness by the pain of losing her child, angels from other Heavens frequently came here carrying doubts and a thirst for knowledge, either consulting materials or conversing with this amiable wise one who resided in the Sixth Heaven long-term. Even the Archangel Michael—so proficient in war and forging—was frequently enlightened by Gabriel on many matters big or small. Thus breaking through the shackles of his own thoughts to discover new paths.
The amiability and wisdom of Archangel Gabriel were vastly renowned within the Sanctuary. Even the Elves residing on the Tree Continent across the distant shores of the surface had heard of this. In past years, there were even elegant anecdotes of Elf Marquises traveling ten thousand miles to pay their respects to Gabriel...
Only, all of this today was smothered by her madness and deathly stillness. The wondrous sceneries of the past were no more, inevitably instigating a tinge of sorrow within Michael.
Hesitating for a brief moment, Michael pushed open the grand doors of the Vortex of Wisdom. The spacious interior lacked illumination; there was solely the illusory eye behind the mid-air suspended Gabriel glowing. The entire Vortex of Wisdom was dim and gloomy, exactly like her presently ensnared heart.
The low temperature of the cosmos behind her blew the Aether blanketing the Sixth Heaven into the Vortex of Wisdom, rolling up several sheets of paper scattered on the floor. The gilded angelic text upon them remained clearly distinguishable. Sadly, ever since she went mad, this Vortex of Wisdom practically had nobody managing it anymore, hence rendering it rather disorganized.
"Gabriel, I'm here."
Even fully knowing there wouldn't be any response, Michael still extended a greeting like in the past. Looking at Gabriel lying on her side in the center of the Vortex of Wisdom cradling a piece of crystal, he opened his mouth to speak softly like so.
"Be good... quickly sleep..."
As it should be, Gabriel merely smiled while looking at the crystal in her embrace. Babbling foolishly and repetitively the words used to coax a child to sleep, she possessed zero intention of responding to Michael.Her child lost its life amidst its slumber. Hence, Gabriel's memory seemingly remained stuck on the night prior to her child losing its life.
She still remembered vividly, the little angel was throwing a massive tantrum that night, refusing to sleep no matter what. She coaxed for a very long time before he finally barely fell asleep...
Michael narrowed his eyes. Turning around and following the angelic text search categories on the bookshelves, he walked all the way toward the bookshelf housing books regarding the Tree Continent. On the floor before that bookshelf, two open books lay there. It seemed there was something reading them just a moment ago, but its silhouette vanished right now.
"..."
Michael's towering silhouette paused slightly at the bookshelf. Gently waving a hand, all the books on that bookshelf drifted out sequentially, automatically flipping their pages in mid-air. Only after a minute had elapsed did he lock onto several books that might contain information regarding the World Tree Teardrop, placing them in his hands. The rest automatically returned to the bookshelf.
He pinched one of the books and lowered his head, flipping through the contents previously recorded by Archangel Gabriel within.
"The Genesis of the Tree Continent"
"During ancient times, when the world was first born, the Chief God Ramastia used Authority transcending all to create three children He enamored, and endowed them with the innate duty to fend off Chaos. Having reached the limits of living beings, they had already touched the fringes of Authority, worthy of being dubbed Demigods, standing as the most direct and capable representatives of the several True Gods unable to interfere with the world..."
"Yet regrettably, as times changed, the three Demigod Lords all gradually grew weary of this ethereal duty. The dissatisfaction towards one another and Chief God Ramastia grew increasingly thick within their hearts day by day, and gradually transformed into their tangible and far-reaching actions."
"Dragon God Fafnir left the Crevice without authorization multiple times, relaxing his duty to guard it; Although the World Tree ostensibly still abides by the laws left by the Chief God, criticizing the Dragon God's omissions on multiple occasions, in private He discarded His own true name, proclaiming Himself Jianmu, causing even the Elves and the multitude of living beings on the Tree Continent to never know His true name..."
"Being descendants of Demigods, we have more or less inherited their emotions; to my knowledge, there are quite a number of angels within the Sanctuary who harbor discord with the Elves, only hampered by that thin piece of paper the Demigods haven't pierced through to this day. Thus the world maintains peace within such a fragile balance."
Gabriel didn't pen down the situation of the Chain of Heaven here, but Michael knew in his heart: the situation of Lord Chain of Heaven is absolutely not any better either. Otherwise, he wouldn't have personally returned from realms beyond to build the Sanctuary ten thousand years ago.
Skimming over these contents recorded by Gabriel that he also knew deeply, Michael flipped the pages with an extremely potent sense of purpose, looking toward the contents at the rear.
"Residing as the eldest sister, Lord World Tree possessed an item bestowed by a True God named the 【Loom of Fate】. Yet even I have never witnessed the true visage of that loom, nor know its specific efficacy; the loom was operated by the World Tree only once over thousands of years... producing a derivative imbued with the divine Authorities of the World Tree and Fate descending upon the world. This is the World Tree Teardrop, rewarded by the World Tree to the Elves for worship."
"Previously, I once heard the Elf King mention that gazing at the World Tree Teardrop for a prolonged period would miraculously cause Elves to involuntarily be bathed in tears. Upon questioning them, they actually said they saw the hazy sceneries of the past when they were yet to be born."
"Yet Elves are living beings fabricated by the World Tree using Authority, how could this be so? Or is it to say, they saw the appearance of their souls before being plucked away from the Spirit World by divine Authority? This makes me ponder involuntarily again: If only souls within the Spirit World possess the trait of consciousness, then what exactly is the essence of consciousness?"
Gabriel's records ended here. Michael conversely pinched the book, speechless for a very long time.
His Tier was extremely high, fully possessing Nineteenth-Tier, already having a relatively mature comprehension of the invisible Rules laid down by the gods around them. Aside from those few Transferred Persons hailing from beyond the world, the vast majority of them were shackled within these rules—acting according to the rules, innately rejecting orderless Chaos...
Michael, as well as many angels, had all attempted to forge creations possessing clear intellects. Yet this wasn't a simple matter. They were unable to replicate the consciousness within souls. Lacking the Authority of Life, they were even unable to replicate the vessel of a soul to fashion a receptacle capable of presenting consciousness...
Everything seemed so impossible, yet that book...
Within this exceedingly serene pondering, Michael's train of thought completely stagnated. He grew increasingly curious regarding the method of forging Fisher mentioned. It felt as if countless cat hairs were gently brushing against his heart, and also like the toy he turned to maximum output gliding across his body, making him feel an endless itching sensation.
"Rustle rustle..."
Right at this moment, the bookshelf behind him unexpectedly emitted a minuscule noise, interrupting Michael's deep thought.
Carrying terrifying oppressive might, he looked behind him, only to see an expanse of peaceful bookshelves and books. It seemed it was merely the Aether outside blowing into the library, rolling up a trailing gauze curtain ever so slightly.
Angel Gabriel had almost completely lost her intellect. Naturally, she wouldn't do something like this. Moreover, it seemed he also hadn't seen that conscious item kept by Angel Gabriel...
Michael curled a finger. The Aether before his body immediately wrapped up terrifying high temperatures and rushed toward the bookshelf ahead in the blink of an eye. Gabriel's books all harbored the protection of her golden text, naturally remaining perfectly safe and sound. Roughly, that conscious item wouldn't have any issues either... provided he could endure the high-temperature roasting.
"Aaaah, so hot, so hot, so hot..."
Yet less than a second had passed when that Eimhart—who was still masquerading as a book sandwiched between two books—jumped up unable to bear it. Flipping open his book cover towards the back page, the mouth above it puckered up, constantly blowing air toward that spot. Unknown how he—who lacked organs—managed to accomplish this.
Expressionlessly, Michael splayed his fingers. Eimhart flew into his hand spinning like a top, scaring him into incessantly screaming with a drake-like voice,
"Let me go! Let me go! Help! Fisher!! Book murder!!"
Looking at the Eimhart who completely couldn't escape his palm despite desperately struggling, Michael felt the terror within him that was no different from a normal living being. He seemingly was completely unable to decipher how this tiny book bereft of a soul before his eyes managed to harbor consciousness.
Several seconds elapsed before Michael interrupted his own scrutiny, evaluating,
"Ugly exterior, hollow interior, how exactly was your consciousness produced?"
"Your mom is!"
Eimhart, being gripped by Michael, turned his head and cursed right away. But Michael harbored zero intention of getting angry, merely opening his mouth to say to him,
"Still knows how to get angry? Interesting... Answer a few of my questions truthfully and I'll let me go, how about it?"
"Pah, I won't say anything."
"Oh? Looks like you have a pretty good relationship with that human male, named... Fisher? Do you want to know how he is doing right now?"
Lifted by him, Eimhart fell silent for a moment. Twisting his head over in mid-air, he vigilantly looked at the Michael before him, hesitating,
"...What do you want to ask me?"
"Do you have a name?"
"Book Viscount Eimhart, or the Great Eimhart."
"Do you still remember how long you've lived?"
"Thousands of years or longer?"
"Do you remember things from the past?"
"Of course! I'm not an idiot, I remember everything!"
Michael raised his eyebrows and continued to ask,
"Do you know where you are? Can you see things and recognize the objects you see?"
"Of course I can, could you stop constantly asking these 'as it should be' things? I..."
Michael quickly realized that the item before his eyes possessed the capabilities to clearly perceive the world, think for itself, and provide feedback. And this kind of capability was an ability not possessed by the conscious Relics they previously attempted to forge.
Is the World Tree Teardrop truly this miraculous, capable of breaking through the shackles of a soul to bestow him with the ability to think?
"Are you done asking? Can you tell me about Fisher now?"
Michael's deep thought was interrupted. Lowering his head, he spoke up,
"There's still one last matter I need your help with."
"Wha—wu wu wu!"
Eimhart's action of opening his mouth came to an abrupt end. Because in the next second, the finger Michael pinched on Eimhart's book cover sunk into it bit by bit. That bizarre power twisted concrete laws. The rules from all directions all consequentially twisted to manifest their most unyielding appearances. Similarly, everything lingering upon Eimhart's body also cleared up bit by bit.
Amidst Eimhart's agonizing screams, pale golden cracks lit up on his book cover bit by bit. Within those pale golden cracks, Michael saw countless illusory, intertwining, silken threads. He saw a golden ocean bereft of the distinction between space and time. He was rapidly about to behold the essence of Eimhart's consciousness...
"Wu wu wu wu wu wu wu!"
Eimhart's screaming didn't interrupt Michael's action of exploring the mysteries of consciousness in the slightest. His finger sank toward the golden ocean beneath the book cover bit by bit, attempting to reach deeper places.
"Buzz buzz buzz..."
Yet exactly at this moment, a sudden chill ran down Michael's spine. A sensation of extreme danger instantly surged into his heart, causing his six fiery wings on his back to continuously sway slightly, swaying non-stop exactly like a candle flame in the wind...
All the heavy bookshelves in the surroundings violently shook. The entire Vortex of Wisdom also began emitting trembling mournful wails. The spinning Sun Ring below ground to a halt bit by bit, emitting ear-piercing "kaka" sounds traveling through the Aether, solidifying the artificial medium flowing in the surroundings...
Michael violently retracted the finger submerged within Eimhart's book cover in one fell swoop. The pain-delirious Eimhart tumbled several times in mid-air before landing on the ground. Twitching a few times, he barely propped himself up. Opening his mouth, he raised his head, only to see that the terrifying angel previously floating in the center of the library had silently stood before him, unknown since when.
She still hugged that crystal in her embrace. But at this moment, her gaze was no longer on the crystal. Instead, she looked expressionlessly at the Michael before her.
Michael's pupils constricted slightly. Astonishedly looking at the Gabriel who landed on the ground and began walking anew before him, he took the initiative to speak after remaining silent for a second or two.
"Gabriel?"
"..."
Yet Gabriel didn't say anything. She merely blankly stared at Michael, acting just like a pitiful patient harmless to people and animals. It wasn't until the terrifying pressure in the surroundings retracted into her body bit by bit that the massive quantity of illusory eyes morphing into a deep-red angry visage upon her back reverted anew into the aimlessly wandering state of the past.
She floated up bit by bit and blankly looked toward the crystal within her embrace anew, muttering in a low voice,
"Be good... don't be afraid..."
Michael looked at the Gabriel floating back to the center of the Vortex of Wisdom anew. Pondering for several seconds, he looked at his finger that still felt cold. Subsequently, he waved his hand, tossing the book beside him he had just read back onto the bookshelf.
Whereas the Eimhart sprawled on the ground, hurting terribly just prior, recuperated his vitality bit by bit. He turned his head and cursed right at Michael with a stinky face.
"Your mom! You liar! How dare you falsely claim to be Holy Progeny! I spit on it! You liar! You shameless scoundrel!"
Eimhart silently retreated bit by bit toward Gabriel's location anew while cursing. He vigilantly looked at the Michael before him, worried he would get handy with him again.
Michael let out a soft harrumph, too lazy to engage him. His technique was precise. Though he didn't know why he would feel pain, he definitely hadn't damaged a single bit of the structure on this fellow's body.
He didn't get angry; conversely, he looked toward Gabriel. He seemingly completely didn't expect Gabriel would actually come down from up there. After all, when he needed her to go to the high platform for meetings previously, it was always Sariel teleporting her over. Typically, she just stayed here motionlessly, hugging that crystal talking to herself. Truly didn't expect today...
Michael shook his head. Brushing the white robes upon his body, he looked at the Eimhart on the ground and said,
"Your Fisher is doing perfectly fine, you don't have to worry..."
Right after his words fell, he was already nearly walking to the doorway. Just as he was about to exit, he precipitously turned his head anew. Looking at Gabriel, he asked,
"Gabriel, I want to obtain the Elves' World Tree Teardrop while hiding it from Sariel. This conscious book possesses angel casting stria internally; that Fisher isn't as simple as a Transferred Person, and the secret hidden behind the World Tree Teardrop isn't that simple either... You were once the wisest angel among us, I hope to know your opinion."
Like in the past, Michael issued a question to Gabriel. Yet exactly the same as however long in the past, she still failed to present Michael with an answer. She merely remained curled up in mid-air, blankly hugging the crystal in her embrace as she murmured,
"Be good... be good..."
"...Farewell, Gabriel."
Having failed to await an answer, Michael didn't linger. He nodded his respects toward the Gabriel lacking a clear consciousness, subsequently shutting the doors to the Vortex of Wisdom, swiftly disappearing within the Sixth Heaven.
"Damn it! Truly a despicable angel! I unilaterally declare that guy is no longer an angel I respect!!"
The foul-mouthed Eimhart flew up as if about to spew fire. The moment Michael left, his words grew significantly louder, acting as if he was viciously cursing Michael right to his face.
But this wasn't real, after all. After cursing a few sentences, the panting Eimhart shook his head, murmuring,
"Can Holy Progenies not manufacture me? Yet I was clearly manufactured by a Holy Progeny... Hiss, but I truly don't remember exactly which Holy Progeny Lord manufactured me anymore. But there's no way Fisher could know how I was manufactured... Just what do I do? Damn it, how much longer do I have to be locked up here?! Fisher, come rescue me quickly..."
Once having thought that it would be very difficult for Fisher to come rescue him, Eimhart's emotions took a bit of a tumble. Clenching a book in his mouth, he subconsciously arrived near Gabriel, preparing to alleviate his own sorrow via reading... Ever since he discovered Gabriel completely lacked clear consciousness despite her terrifying strength, his reading spots grew exceedingly casual.
He merely had to maintain a further distance from her when sleeping. After all, listening to those hollow murmurs, even the great Relic Book Viscount couldn't fall asleep. For the rest of the time, he generally ran everywhere. Yet he basically didn't read many books. While reading, he'd start spacing out, constantly going on to think about when Fisher would finally come to pick him up.
Clenching a book in his mouth and placing it on the ground, he sighed deeply while flipping open the pages to start reading. Without having read many lines, he precipitously thought of something again. Turning his head to look at the Gabriel floating in mid-air behind him, looking at her pitiful appearance of being unbearably pained due to losing her child, he nonetheless opened his mouth to say,
"Thank you just now, Lord Holy Progeny... Sigh, I didn't expect you'd still be willing to help me even when you are this sad. Thank you."
The Gabriel in the sky hugging the crystal in her embrace looked at him, quietly scrutinizing him with a glance. Right when Eimhart felt she seemingly was about to say something, Gabriel abruptly turned her head away.
"Don't be afraid... Baby, we won't look at ugly things... Don't be afraid..."
"Your mom!!"
The thoroughly defense-broken Eimhart suffered a secondary injury. Angrily bounding up, he yelled and shouted.
He absolutely couldn't stay here a single second longer. He felt Fisher right now must be exactly like him, definitely worrying about him too. He definitively had to persevere on!
"Does this outfit look good?"
Meanwhile, the Fisher whom Eimhart thought of incessantly was currently cupping his chin, watching the beaming Helaire place a set of clothing before his body and ask as such while gesturing.
"...Wasn't I the one coming to look for clothes to wear? Why are you asking me?"
"Isn't it because you refuse to wear our standard white robes? Otherwise, the clothing here consists entirely of garments favored by beauty-loving angels; you probably wouldn't like them, right? The garments you want require me to personally go to the other Heavens to retrieve them later. But you know this, the Sanctuary has very few angels, we work very slowly. I'm no exception, especially when spotting nice-looking clothing."
"..."
Fisher possessed zero words for a retort. He shot a glance at the garments beside them. Between the garments of the Fifth Heaven lay two types. One was relatively neutral loose white robes. Only due to not sporting an inner pocket designed within, Fisher wanted to swap to other clothing. The other was an elegant skirt-dress leaning toward the female orientation. One-piece pleated type, very pretty, yet seemingly didn't suit him either.
"Don't angels rarely have determined genders? These are items angels leaning towards the female orientation like to wear?"
"Exactly... Lord Michael also likes to wear these when not forging oh."
"Hold on, he's an angel leaning towards the female orientation?"
"He also likes wearing the type you like, especially during war. Majority of the time, the impression Lord Michael gives me lies with the 'a fierce tiger in the heart, delicately sniffing a rose' type... Reining over war and forging, an existence of paramount masculinity yet enjoys playing with that kind of toy. Using your human perspective, I presume it's very difficult to comprehend, right?"
"...Indeed, a little bit."
"Uhm... Mr. Fisher."
Right when Helaire placed down the apparel in her hands, from another room gracefully walked out a changed Asuka Karasawa donning an elegant short white robe. This seemingly was still her first time wearing this type of attire. Ordinarily at the temple, she'd wear either a monk's robe; at school, school uniforms. She rarely went out or anything. Therefore, even now wearing this type of attire, she'd subconsciously feel restrained and embarrassed.
I just feel like... it's drafty everywhere... so scary...
Hearing this, Fisher looked over. There he saw Asuka's flushed little face. In actuality, that short robe enshrouded the majority of her body. But those exposed lotus-root-like arms had also turned beautifully pinkish owing to her bashfulness, utterly adorable.
For some unknown reason, Fisher abruptly thought of Jasmine.
"This set of clothing seems a bit... too loose. How about I... go change to another one?"
"Sure, little cutie... it's totally fine even if you change multiple times. Who knows, maybe Fisher and I could gorge our eyes out because of this~"
"Eh eh eh?!"
Cupping his chin, Fisher watched the bashfully running away Asuka Karasawa and the side-covering-her-mouth-laughing-mischievously Helaire. He temporarily didn't open his mouth. Unknown if it was due to Helaire hitting the mark or he was considering other matters.
However, he roughly was also presently similarly missing the long-parted Eimhart, right?