Book 3: Chapter 216: The First Sage and the Senior |
Listening to a few girls in the same class chirp about it beside her, Yvette Loxivia thanked them for the heads-up, then quietly found an empty corner of the classroom. After a while, she saw the female instructor she’d met once during the aptitude test—“Margaret Blanche”—walk in. With a smiling greeting, the teacher began today’s lesson: the creation myths of the Radiant Continent.
These liberal-arts courses were Yvette’s main reason for coming to the College of General Studies. She could self-study, of course, but having professionals to clear up confusion was better than puzzling alone and not even realizing her mistakes. The other students weren’t so attentive: plenty began to zone out partway through, and some were slumped over their desks—who knew if they were listening or napping.
Forty minutes later, the class ended, and she had learned the parts of world myth that every church agreed upon—those without dispute.
According to that portion, in the continent’s mythology, the world has no beginning—or rather, heaven and earth existed from the start. After endless ages, one day the first god, the “First Sage,” was born, and only then did everything that followed begin.
The First Sage, wielding supreme power, created all life and fashioned “Eden” to protect it. In the process, the first five divinities were born: the “Witch of the End,” formed from the First Sage’s inner malice; and four children created from his blood—the Lord of Unity, the Ancestral Holy Spirit, the Tree God, and the Demon God—namely, the four True Gods of the present Mortal Realm.
Later, the Witch of the End coveted the First Sage’s might and stabbed him in the back, destroying Eden. All living things were forced to flee to the surface. The four True Gods joined forces to battle the Witch of the End, won in the end, and exiled her to a prison.
That prison is the fabled “Land of the End.”
As for the enmity between the Demon God and the other three True Gods, that was another betrayal. In the end, the three, softhearted, spared their brother and drove him to the barren, harsh Western Continent to fend for himself. But the Demon God never felt gratitude, secretly backing demonkin in a counteroffensive—leading to the human–demon war that has raged for millennia.
Yvette, however, had her doubts. If she ever traveled to the Abyssal Continent, she would almost certainly hear an entirely different version of the myth among the demonkin—one where the Demon God was the one betrayed.
When the class ended, Yvette glanced at those preparing to switch rooms, hugged her books, and calmly walked up to the lectern.
Margaret was still reviewing her notes. Noticing Yvette approach, she smiled. “Miss Loxivia, do you have a question?”
“I do.” Yvette nodded. “I’d like to ask—since the Demon God has long supported demonkin invasions of the Eastern Continent, why have the True Gods continued to allow it?”
Looking into the chestnut-haired girl’s calm eyes, Margaret blinked and asked, “Miss Loxivia, which deity do you worship?”
She wasn’t trying to check her background or tattle. It was just that, when True Gods came up, this utterly ordinary-looking girl’s expression remained unexpectedly placid, with no trace of reverence. That surprised her.
She suspected the girl was either a rare unbeliever or a devotee of some fringe, lesser-known deity: the Snow Emperor worshiped in the northern snows, the Sun God of the Sunflare sect, and so on. Those second-tier churches are usually found in the snowfields, the Free Alliance, and the Southern Alliance—less common around here.
“The Silver Witch,” Yvette said at once.
“—Ah. Well, alright.” Margaret had no retort.
She herself was a nominal follower of the Silver Witch—she was an Academy lecturer, after all. And the Silver Witch is the God of Serendipity; what’s wrong with a little faith?
Incidentally, within the Academy there’s a little-known position reserved for the Silver Witch: “Foundation Mentor,” established by the Legendary Mage and equal in rank to her “Founding Dean.” If you asked whether the Silver Witch had an official church, the Academy of Truth could count as half of one.
“It isn’t that the True Gods are condoning it,” Margaret explained. “If a god-war were to break out again, ordinary life would be shattered and the world drowned in suffering. The True Gods are compassionate and cannot bear to see that. The wicked Demon God understands this as well, which is why he keeps probing with this method.”
Yvette couldn’t help arching a brow. The human–demon war has lasted thousands of years, with casualties among ordinary folk numbering in the hundreds of millions, and that still hasn’t tested the True Gods’ bottom line?
Is their bottom line a bottomless pit—or is there some constraint that prevents them from acting? Mutual deterrence, perhaps…
With little time left in the break and Margaret needing to prepare her next class, Yvette didn’t press further. She thanked her and soon left the classroom.
After politely declining a few classmates’ invitations to eat off-campus, Yvette had lunch alone in the school cafeteria, then headed to the College of General Studies’ great library.
It had to be said: although the College of General Studies sits at the bottom of the Nine Divisions’ pecking order, its library is one of the best humanities and social-science libraries on the continent—comprehensive inside, with a wealth of materials to consult.
After the anti-counterfeiting marks on her student ID were verified, Yvette entered the first floor of the great library. Corridors branched in many directions; every wall was a towering bookshelf, and rolling ladders stood by for retrieving volumes. Study rooms lined the corridor ends, with many students reading inside—though a quick glance showed most were reading light fiction; few were truly researching or studying.
After browsing the sections, Yvette decided to start with the records of the “Divine Judgment War” during the Day of the End, hoping to glean the location of the “Divine Judgment battlefield.”
She believed the truth of the god-war would never be made public. Anything released would surely be vetted by the True Gods’ churches. So whether the Legendary Mage had truly fallen—at the very least, she had to go to the site herself.
She gathered several relevant books—some oral histories, some compilations of public church records—and carried them into a study room.
Before she could sit, someone inside—a girl reading—caught her attention.
Judging by the two stars on her badge, she was likely a second-year. She had fine features and long teal-blue hair. Her posture as she read radiated a restrained, noble grace; her pale legs beneath her pleated skirt stayed neatly together—the picture of a well-bred noble miss. The book before her was The Age of War, evidently a historical compendium on continental warfare. Such books are usually a slog, but the teal-haired girl read with deep focus. Her lovely profile set a few nearby boys itching, trading looks as if urging one another to go make the first move.
Yvette lifted a brow. Before those boys could act, she pulled out the chair beside the second-year and, when the girl looked up, asked, “May I sit here?”
“Of course.” Seeing that the newcomer was just a plain chestnut-haired girl, the senior gave a small, gentle smile.
After sitting, Yvette didn’t rush to open her own books. Instead, she glanced at the senior’s spread-open The Age of War
—its contents concerned the First Human–Demon War. Noticing her gaze, the senior’s lips curved slightly. Smiling, she said, “Interested in the human–demon wars too, junior?”
“I am.”
“Then be careful. Even in the Academy’s library, a lot of what’s recorded in these books is one-sided or mistaken. You have to cross-check multiple volumes to reach sound understanding,” the senior advised.
“What kind of problems?”
“Mm—lots. For example, demonkin marched east because of insufficient grain production, but some books just paint them as brainless monsters like foul fiends. That’s obviously illogical.”
“And?”
“And the claim that demonkin abduct human women to breed—that’s wrong, too. Plenty of demonkin lineages can produce hybrids with humans—say, demonkin and bloodkin—but they have no interest in human stock. Only demonized Gobul would do such a thing, and they hardly represent ‘demonkin’ as a whole.”
“You’ve got a keen eye, senior,” Yvette said.
Catching Yvette’s smile, the senior showed a faintly awkward look, perhaps realizing she’d been a bit chatty, and lowered her gaze to the page. “Mm. That’s all I’ve noticed.”
“Alright, senior—if I find anything, I can share it with you,” Yvette said softly. “Also, may I ask you about someone?”
“Who?” The senior looked at her, puzzled.
After Yvette said the name, the teal-haired senior’s pupils tightened for an instant. Then she put on a puzzled expression. “Who—would that be? Someone you know?”
“Mm. He should be adept at earth and lightning magic.”
“I—I don’t know anyone by that name.” The senior turned her head away, facing the book before her again.
“Alright.” Yvette nodded, lowered her eyes, and resumed reading.
That uneasy quiet lasted about five minutes. Then Yvette, still reading intently, heard the senior beside her speak again: “Junior, what—what’s your name?”
Yvette nodded calmly and watched Nixia return her books and leave in a hurry, drawing a chorus of throat-clearing sighs from the boys nearby who’d never mustered the courage to go say hello.
Useless lot. From them, Yvette seemed to glimpse the very green self she’d been in ages long past.
Pathetic, she thought, not sure who she was scolding.
Before long those boys left too; clearly, Yvette’s plain face was no substitute for that pretty senior.
She set her book down and gazed at the window where tree shadows danced. The corner of her mouth lifted, sketching a curve of keen interest.
A demonkin girl, using Light-and-Shadow Magic to alter her skin and hair, then coming to the Academy of Truth to research demonkind?
What else can you say—this continent’s greatest den of hidden dragons and crouching tigers is, as expected, fascinating.
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