Chapter 97: Special Effects—Exactly the Reason to Become King |
“Since you’ve said so much already, just say whatever it is you want directly.” Celt placed the Harvest Scripture gently on the seat beside him. “No need to string me along—at your level, pretending to slip up on purpose is a bit funny.”
Allenay raised a hand to hook a few strands of golden hair at his temple, twirling them around his fingertip.
“Funny? Isn’t that even better?” He gave a slight smile, his amber eyes fixed on Celt’s.
Celt inexplicably felt as though he saw a starry sky in those eyes.
This wasn’t a metaphor, nor was Celt being seduced by Allenay’s ambiguous gender.
It was a starry sky in the literal sense.
His amber eyes were dotted with twinkling white specks.
Celt remembered that he had a Law Mark called “Stargazer” and a Law Rhyme called “Morning Star,” and these were probably the special effects from them.
It was pretty nice to look at.
Special effects—exactly the reason to become king.
“Mm… yeah.” Celt nodded casually.
He conceded straightforwardly, his body relaxing as he leaned back.
The chair’s backrest was hard and uncomfortable to lean against.
But that didn’t matter—Celt could make his own back soft, adapting himself to the chair.
As he tilted his head, Sereia, perched on top of it, swayed gently like a translucent soft hat, bobbing her body and her tentacles.
To maintain balance, the jellyfish’s flexible tentacles instinctively waved faintly in the air, while the light at the edge of her bell flickered on and off like breathing.
Allenay’s gaze lifted, looking at Sereia on top of Celt’s head.
He didn’t seem to have activated his spiritual vision, yet he could still see her.
“She’s adorable.” Allenay’s voice softened even more.
When meeting parents, compliment their kids; when meeting dog walkers, compliment their pets.
Allenay knew this game well.
“Thanks.” Celt stroked the tentacle wrapped around his neck. “Getting back to what we were talking about—I think you probably want something from me too, right?”
“Otherwise, you wouldn’t have brought up that topic.”
Allenay secured the charcoal pencil with the clip attached to his sketchpad, tilted his body slightly to the right, leaned against the armrest of his seat, propped his head on one arm, and looked at Celt, who was sitting one seat away to his left. His braided hair, gathered at the back, hung loosely at an angle.
“Mm… there is something.”
“I recall your name is Celt Frein. Can I call you Celt directly?” he asked in a gentle tone.
“Yeah, no problem.” Celt nodded. “Then I’ll just call you Allenay.”
“It’s my honor.” Allenay placed one hand on his chest in an elegant gesture.
His voice was beautiful, inexplicably making one’s face flush.
It was just normal speech, yet it felt like listening to a song.
This seemed to be an ability of his Law Rhyme.
Similar to Celt’s ability to influence emotions, but leaning more toward seduction.
Even Celt’s ability to regulate emotions was originally copied from him.
Clearly, Allenay used it far better than Celt, to the point where Celt had unconsciously lowered some of his guard against him.
A man with a seduction skill—no matter how you thought about it, it was strange.
But his voice really was pleasant, and he was genuinely good-looking, so Celt could overlook that minor anomaly.
Yet Celt quickly noticed this abnormality.
Everything seemed logical, but Celt knew he couldn’t possibly feel that way toward Allenay right now.
When he was still “Wu Lang” and “Samuel,” he had played too many roles—he knew exactly what emotions should arise at what times.
So, he swiftly adjusted his own feelings.
Suppressing that strange psychological influence.
Sereia also noticed this effect.
Several spines grew from her tentacles, lightly pricking Celt.
“Thanks, but I’m already fine.” Celt, feeling as if he’d been lightly shocked, laughed and stroked Sereia’s tentacle.
Sereia wiggled happily.
Allenay watched their interaction, a peculiar glint flashing in his eyes.
A gentle person—whether by nature or due to the influence of Law Marks and Law Rhymes—it couldn’t be denied that Celt was indeed a gentle person now.
Since he was gentle, that guaranteed cooperation.
He suddenly let out a soft laugh, then posed a question in a relaxed tone.
“Celt, why do you think some special combinations of Law Marks can form a Law Rhyme?”
“Huh?” Celt raised an eyebrow but didn’t let go of his hand resting on the tentacle.
Why are we suddenly in the “let me test you” phase?
Are you also a Brahmin from the 2D world?
Allenay added:
“Or rather, why do you think there are things like ‘special Law Rhymes’ that exist innately?”
“Those aren’t the same thing, are they?” Celt asked in confusion.
He probably knew he was asking a common-sense question for a Law Contemplator, but he was just a little rookie.
“No, from a certain perspective, they are indeed similar.” Allenay shook his head with minimal movement.
“Sigh… I’m just a newbie—I don’t know anything.” Celt shrugged.
“Is that so.” Allenay nodded ambiguously.
“Have you ever noticed that although such ‘Law Rhymes’ are indeed ‘Law Rhymes,’ their method of acquisition leans more toward Law Marks.” Allenay’s voice was very soft.
“They aren’t self-condensed, but acquired by fulfilling specific conditions, just like Law Marks.”
“For example, ‘having the required prerequisite Law Marks’ or ‘being born with some special trait.’”
Celt nodded, indicating that this wasn’t hard to understand—he got it.
He understood now. This wasn’t a Brahmin’s “let me test you” session; Allenay knew perfectly well that Celt knew nothing, so he was sharing useful information.
This was probably a small gift before cooperation.
The gift was so subtle that Celt almost missed it—no wonder people called him an ambitious man.
Mastery of social graces.
Well… but if I were really an idiot who couldn’t read between the lines, wouldn’t this gift have been wasted? Celt thought.
Seeing that Celt didn’t seem interested in the guessing game, Allenay continued:
“Since you’re not interested in guessing, I’ll just tell you directly.”
“A Law Seeker—the key is ‘seeking.’”
“Seeking from whom? How do you seek? Why would they give it to us?”
“So, this is the answer.”
“It’s a ‘transaction,’ an ‘investment.’”
“A ‘Law Seeker’ seeks Law Marks from the ‘world,’ condenses their own Law Rhyme during the Contemplating the Law period. Then…”
“During the Law Inscriber period, they merge into this world, and after death, they return their own Law Rhyme to the world.”
“It’s like planting a fruit—burying the seed, applying fertilizer, helping it grow strong, and finally picking the fruit.”
“That’s the essence of existing ‘Law Marks’ and some special ‘Law Rhymes.’” He explained to Celt step by step.
He had originally thought that Celt, as a Law Seeker of [Absurdity], would be interested in such little games. He had miscalculated—done something unnecessary.
“So, you’re saying that all the ‘Law Marks’ that ‘Law Seekers’ can obtain externally, and those ‘Law Rhymes’ that can be acquired by meeting conditions, all come from some powerful Law Inscriber from the past?”
Celt pondered the meaning of these words.
“Yes.” Allenay nodded.
“Law Seekers are always polluting this world, and the world itself won’t just sit back and do nothing.”
“If you hope to reap something, you always have to pay some price.”
“No one is selfless—not even the world itself.” Allenay said softly.
Is this a reminder that by gaining “Royal Blood” from him, I will definitely have to pay a price?
Celt thought about Allenay’s words.
But his gaze shifted to the priest at the front.
“I see…” Celt glanced at Ethen not far away. “If you say that, Father Ethen would be hurt.”
“Not at all,” Allenay covered his mouth with a light laugh. “Father doesn’t care about such things.”
Withdrawing his gaze from the priest, Celt looked back at Allenay.
“So you mean that the world itself has self-awareness?” Celt inquired.
“I don’t know.” Allenay’s answer was honest. “But with so many Law Inscribers merging themselves into the world, even if it originally had no consciousness, after absorbing a certain number of Law Inscribers, it should have developed one.”
“It could be the world’s own consciousness, a consciousness formed by the subconscious connection of all living beings, or even the consciousness of the Law Inscribers or Law Carvers themselves.”
“Any of these is possible.”
“I see…”
Celt’s fingers unconsciously brushed over the overlapping page edges of the Travel Guide on his side.
He flipped up a corner of the book, then let the pages slide quickly past his fingertips.
“That’s a very interesting theory,” he murmured.
As he chatted with Allenay, his mind was busy with other thoughts.
“Then, before the very first Law Inscriber was born, how did Law Seekers obtain their Law Marks?” Celt asked.
He already had more than one possible answer in his head.
Asking this was just to show that he was listening attentively, providing Allenay with emotional value.
“As for that question, the Law Seekers of [Ultimate Wisdom] are still debating it to this day,” Allenay replied.
“A considerable number of scholars believe that Law Marks back then also needed to be self-condensed, or that Law Seekers would skip the ‘Seeking the Law’ stage entirely, becoming Law Contemplators the moment they stepped onto the path of Law.”
“That’s the current mainstream view.”
“That’s the current mainstream view.” Celt repeated his words, catching a small loophole. “So, what’s your view?”
Allenay propped his head on one hand.
“Another theory is that Law Inscribers are born in the future, and their influence reaches back through the past.”
“The evidence for this theory is that, from the very first recorded Law Seeker, the number of Law Marks has never been recorded as increasing or decreasing.”
Celt raised an eyebrow in surprise, glancing at Father Ethen not far away.
“So you’re saying that Father could actually do something like that?”
“Unfortunately, as far as I know, no.” Allenay winked with his left eye. “So I lean more toward the first explanation.”
Considering his own situation, Celt nodded: “I lean toward the first one too.”
He looked down at The Lunatic’s World Travel Guide resting on his lap, thinking about how this book could record and replicate “Law Marks” and “Law Rhymes.”
And not like the way Law Seekers share “Law Marks”—where, for constantly changing Law Marks, only the state at the exact moment can be recorded.
It was as if it had completely “read” the Law Mark; once recorded, it fully understood it. Even if it changed later, the book could keep up, and whenever it was copied, it would show the state it should have at that moment.
His fingers gently traced the cover.
Could this be some kind of microcosm setting?
Like the foundation of the world?
Celt pondered.
But it didn’t quite feel that way—the book didn’t seem to match that kind of prestige.
And strictly speaking, the process of the book replicating “Law Marks” and “Law Rhymes” didn’t align with what Allenay had said.
Lifting his head again, Celt noticed that Allenay had already picked up the pencil he had put away.
He was meticulously drawing on his sketchpad, and the subject was unmistakably Celt himself.
Celt curiously leaned in closer, seeing that he had easily captured his own features.
It wasn’t realistic, but it was true—you could tell at a glance it was him.
He remembered that Allenay had a Law Mark called “Painter.”
Could this be a way to curse him with a voodoo doll?
But even if it were, Allenay probably wouldn’t do it right in front of him.
So it probably wasn’t.
Not sensing any threat, Celt patiently watched.
Soon, a few minutes passed.
Allenay finished his drawing and stopped, looking at it. Suddenly, he fell silent. His brows drooped slightly, as if lost in thought.
Celt blinked, looking at the picture that was at least seventy percent true to himself, and sincerely applauded.
“Wow, that’s really nice,” Celt commented.
“Thanks.” Allenay replied softly.
“You seem a bit down. What’s wrong?” Celt asked curiously.
“No, I just noticed something interesting.” Allenay turned his head to look at Celt, giving a gentle smile.
His expression was even softer than before.
He remembered clearly that last time Celt came to the church, the Celt he had drawn was like a puppet, an avatar, or a doll—something clearly being controlled from behind.
But now, in his “Painter’s Eye,” Celt could almost be considered half an independent entity.
Creating life… huh…
How interesting.
Celt didn’t know what Allenay was thinking, but he instinctively felt that he might have been seen through again.
However, he wasn’t particularly concerned about keeping his information a secret.
Seen through, so what? He’d never tried to hide it anyway.