Deep Sea Embers

“Last question, if something is really polluting history, how do we solve this problem?”

“Is there really someone… contaminating history?” Morris raised his head sluggishly and faced Duncan in confusion, “Who are you referring to?”

“No matter who it is,” Duncan said lightly, “it could be subspace, it could be the Black Sun, it could be other heretical gods, in short, if something is trying to pollute history, how can it be solved? How do the Flame Bearers cope with such a crisis?”

Morris was stunned for a moment, shaking his head hesitantly: “This… I’m sorry, I can’t answer you. This is beyond my knowledge, and even the Flame Bearers, I’m afraid only the most powerful saints or chosen ones know the secrets of history. Most of the Flame Bearers, like the guardians of the Storm Church, are only doing daily work such as eradicating heresy and purifying pollution; after all, real historical pollution is almost impossible…”

“…… You’re right, my question is too in-depth so it is difficult for you to answer these questions,” Duncan sighed softly. He realized that his curiosity had spiraled out of hand, and he might have unintentionally caused harm for the old gent by adding psychological pressure. “Then let’s stop here today.”

An unprecedented sense of relaxation suddenly swept over Morris’s mind, allowing the poor fella to heave a sigh of relief.

His mind has been groggy since just now, his thinking intermittent, and there are many questions lingering in his head that couldn’t be organized. At this time, Duncan’s willingness to end the conversation was a godsend.

Meanwhile, the shop owner had turned away to glance out the window.

In terms of hour, it was still a while before sunset, but the gloomy sky had made it completely dark outside. Even the gas street lamps had lit up in advance, illuminating the gloomy streets in contrast to the dark clouds overhead.

“It’s a bad day,” Duncan withdrew his gaze and looked at the old gent, “do you want to stay? Nina should have finished prepping dinner.”

Morris’s heart suddenly pounded as he recalled a popular phrase in the Truth Academy, which was used to describe those scholars who chased the most crazy and legendary knowledge – swimming in subspace, bullshitting in front of evil gods, watching the gods fight, and rubbing the soup bowl together at the dinner table.

Let’s pretend this antique shop was subspace, and let’s pretend Mr. Duncan’s rank was equal to the gods, as let’s pretend this subspatial shadow was having a bout against the God of Wisdom, then Morris most certainly has now achieved three of the four wonders from that popular phrase…

All that’s missing was an exchange of the soup bowl!

“Actually…” Morris carefully watched his phrasing.

“Actually, you want to leave, right?” Duncan nodded without waiting for the old man to finish. He’s not so clueless to be this blind, “Although I want to say that the weather is bad and you should stay for a bowl of soup, I’m sure you much prefer to get some relief from the pressure of being in my presence?”

Morris quickly got up and nodded: “Frankly, every minute is torment. Of course, I don’t mean to offend, it’s just…”

“No need to explain, I understand,” Duncan waved his hand with a slightly helpless expression on his face. “If we can change to a more relaxed environment of meeting, then I would love to chat some more about history and the gods. I’m very interested in knowledge. Of course, there is no malicious interest on my part. But from the look of things, this meeting won’t work.”

“Truthfully, I had fallen into a trance several times already and nearly forgot the truth I saw… Your curiosity and friendliness are true like a friend, and the first time I ever met someone as friendly as you…”

The old man felt honestly tied inside. He wanted to find more positive points to say, but he didn’t have the vocabulary in his mindset that’s fitting.

“If you can’t find the right wording then don’t, there’s no need to force yourself. Just don’t report me after leaving, okay?” Duncan chuckled at the troubled historian.

“No, no, no! I would never do that!” Morris waved his hand again and again when he heard this, “You did save Heidi’s life regardless of the truth, and you have always showed a friendly attitude, I have no reason to report it. Not to mention…”

The old man suddenly hesitated, smiled bitterly and spread out his hand: “Looking at your appearance, I don’t think you’re afraid of anyone reporting you…”

“It would make me feel troubled though,” Duncan said casually, “but it’s probably not a big problem.”

Then he paused and glanced up in the direction of the second floor: “If the weather improves tomorrow, Nina will go to school as usual.”

“Nina…” Morris blinked, causing the old historian to remember the flaming arc he saw. With a vague guess of the truth, he decides to muster up the courage and ask, “Nina, she… is she part of what those Suntists worship…”

He didn’t get to finish because Duncan had started shaking his head.

“Nina is Nina, you don’t have to be curious about the secrets behind her,” Duncan said softly. “Just treat her as usual. That way nothing will happen.”

“…… I see,” Morris lowered his head slightly and felt a sense of great relief after hearing Duncan’s statement. “Then it’s time for me to leave. Please say goodbye to Nina on my behalf. My current state… is not very suitable for ‘seeing’ her again.”

Duncan nods and got up to personally see the old gent out as proper etiquette.

There are almost no pedestrians left on the streets, only the glow of the street lamps illuminating the cloudy city that’s starting to pick up wind and frost.

Morris tightened his coat at the cold temperature and pressed the top hat he was wearing, but before walking to his car, he couldn’t help but glance back at Duncan. It’s still the peacefully smiling man of the shop, and this time, the streets were no longer twisting and warping in the terrifying manner as it was in the beginning.

“Mr. Duncan,” Morris said suddenly, “you actually like this place, don’t you?”

“Yes, I quite like it here,” Duncan laughed and waved his hand at the old man, “so go home and go safely. Pland will be safe tomorrow, and every day after that.”

Morris tipped his hat off for that as gratitude and immediately entered his parked car on the side of the road.

Duncan didn’t turn and go back inside right away; instead, he watched the vehicle depart until it’s completely out of sight. He’s pondering something in his head after this unexpected meeting.

The first question was whether the old man would report him after he went back…

The conclusion he got was the possibility being extremely small. If he’s just an ordinary cultist, or even a slightly more advanced Suntist priest, then Morris would have one hundred percent reported back to the authorities. But today, it seems that his image in the eyes of the other party wasn’t an ancient god, but a friendly shadow that just wants to live in the city. This pushed the odds down to zero.

Of course, Duncan had a very good logical reason for that thinking. Unlike the required manpower to exterminate a few cultists or a priest – merely a team of guardians – who could defeat an evil god of subspace? The bishop up in the cathedral? Forget it!

In fact, Morris had better odds of succeeding by reporting this to his God of Wisdom than to the church.

And even without considering all this, Duncan actually didn’t care if he’s reported.

After all, Vanna the inquisitor, who was at the apex of the guardians in the Storm Church, was honestly quite weak in his eye.

Now, compared to this trivial question, Duncan was actually more concerned about Nina’s current state.

A flaming arc that’s constantly gushing out fire… This is the “truth” that Morris sees in Nina with the True Eye given to him by the God of Wisdom.

“Sun fragments…” Duncan raised his head and peered up into the dark sky, “What exactly is the sun in this world…”