franphil Chapter 43 Insightful Talk
Chapter 43 Insightful Talk
"What do you think of the scenery here?" Shelgra asked Chen Mo, looking at the young man standing in the middle of the grass.
Chen Mo glanced around.
A wind blew from the depths of the mist, rustling the blades of grass like countless snakes crawling through the grass.
The bare, black trees stretched their twisted branches toward the sky, like withered hands reaching out from the ground, trying to grasp something but failing in vain.
"It's quite desolate," Chen Mo said.
Shergra clapped and laughed.
His hands clasped together, his purple sleeves swung in the air in an arc, and the bells around his waist jingled incessantly, like a crazy, melodyless, yet joyful song.
"Haha, desolate." He repeated the word. "Yes, that's right. The human mind has always been this desolate."
"However, it is the power of thought that can transcend dimensions," he said, his voice lowering as if he were speaking of a secret, "and they are the ones who hold the dimensions together."
Chen Mo was stunned.
It's not because of that sentence.
It's because of the language Sergra used when he said that.
It wasn't the Norde spoken in Skyrim, nor the Imperial language spoken in Cyrodiil, nor the Aldermeris language of the High Elves, nor any language he had ever learned, heard, or seen in this world.
It is in Chinese.
Shergra speaks Chinese.
Chen Mo suddenly raised his head and looked at Shergra.
His pupils shrank to pinpoints. A chill ran down his spine from the soles of his feet, like an icy snake crawling through his body.
Shergra was looking at him.
His lips curled into a grin.
"Hahaha!" His laughter echoed through the desolate garden, crashing against the heavy, fog-covered walls that obscured the view of the other side, turning into a buzzing echo.
Your expression is absolutely hilarious!
He leaned back, the front legs of the chair buckled, and his body swayed violently.
The bells around his waist jingled incessantly, almost making him fall apart.
His laughter was so loud that Pelagius III peeked out from the corner of the table, glanced at him, and then withdrew.
"Don't worry." Shelgera's laughter subsided, but a smile still lingered on his lips. "We just want to get to know our new friends better. And—"
He leaned forward, the front legs of the chair falling back to the ground, and braced himself against the edge of the table with both hands. "Although we want to trace your origins, in fact, we can only trace them back to the level of language, and that's where it ends."
He frowned slightly. "Moreover, even the language itself isn't fully mastered. Every single word seems to contain an extremely ancient power. Deciphering it will be incredibly difficult."
Something clicked in Chen Mo's mind.
He remembered.
During his time at the enchanting table, he subconsciously wrote in his diary in his native language.
The sky is falling.
These gods, with nothing better to do, peep at others writing in their diaries.
Does Skyline still have the right to privacy?
Chen Mo's lips twitched.
He took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the damp, rotten, sweet air.
"Then, Your Highness, the Mad God," his voice was soft, as if he were using all his reason to suppress his surging emotions, "what is the purpose of summoning me here?"
He turned his head and glanced at Pelagius III, who was huddled in the corner of the table.
The mad emperor, dressed in a rumpled imperial robe, had recovered somewhat from the shock, but his shoulders were still hunched, and his dark brown eyes still dared not look at Chen Mo's right hand.
In the thick fog, the three enormous stone gates stood atop the wild grass, like three silent, tireless sentinels who had been waiting for who knows how many years.
According to the plot, the mad god should give him a staff at this point, and then he should walk through the three doors one by one, using the "power" given to him by Shergra—the kind of mad god's twisted, inverted, and irrational power that can change the reality of dreams—to "solve" the three psychological "problems" in Pelagius III's dream.
"Oh, no, no," Shelgera waved his hand. "How can we let our guests do such dirty and tiring work?"
He looked at Chen Mo, tilting his head like a cat examining a new toy.
"I'm just inviting you here for a get-together today. Haha, let's get together."
He raised his hand and pointed to the fog wall around him, which obscured the view of the other side.
He drew a large circle in the air with his finger, encompassing everything.
"They were all secretly eyeing you. They were all so nervous and awkward. Me? Haha, I'm not afraid at all. Friends are meant to sit down and eat together."
After saying this, Shergra swept his hand across the table, over the bottles of cheese and mead, like a child showing off his treasures.
"Come on, try this fresh cheese. Cheese is a wonderful thing. Look how delicious it is!"
He brought the cheese to his nose and took a deep breath. His eyes narrowed, the corners of his mouth turned up even higher, and his face showed an expression of ecstasy, as if to say, "This is the most delicious thing in the world."
Chen Mo stared at the piece of cheese, his mind racing.
He painstakingly sifted through the information in Shergra's nonsensical words, piecing them together bit by bit.
The gods have indeed taken notice of him.
They were on guard against something. They dared not make direct contact, but only the Mad God disregarded all this and extended an invitation to him.
So, Chen Mo frowned—was there anything about him that the gods needed to notice?
Chen Mo sighed.
In ancient scrolls, what else could possibly catch the attention of the gods?
He reached out, took the piece of cheese from Shergra, put it in his mouth, and took a bite.
It smells delicious.
He spoke slowly.
"The power of thought is indeed strong." Chen Mo looked at Shergra, at those light gray, transparent eyes that shone like stars.
"So, what about beyond thought?"
Shergra's smile faded.
It was as if someone had flipped a switch on his face; the wide grin, the upturned corners of his mouth, and the smile in his bright eyes all vanished in that instant.
Looking into those eyes, Chen Mo suddenly realized something for the first time.
He finally saw the true inner shell of this god beneath the madness.
"Beyond thought."
Shergra chewed on those four words, as if tasting a food he hadn't had in a long time, a food whose flavor had become somewhat hazy. He looked at Chen Mo for a long time.
"You asked a good question."
Hearing the madman's answer, Chen Mo's heart, which had been hanging in suspense, relaxed a little.
He knew that he had grasped the key to the gods' fate.