Chapter 700: Things Only Remembered
Chapter 700: Things Only Remembered
Given the transcended abilities such as spells, rituals, and curses, nothing was “impossible” in this world.
Thus, trying to use the traditional method of “eliminating all impossibilities, leaving only the inevitable” became unachievable.
However, Annan wasn’t the type obsessive about having concrete evidence.
He trusted his instincts more.
Rather than pursuing the idea that “there’s only one truth,” a concept that could be elusive, “finding out the motive” was a more effective and practical approach.
“Alright.” Annan said suddenly, distracting Elle, “I’m going to help you take a bath and fix your hair.”
Hearing this, Elle was immediately shocked.
—What, what, what, what? Take a bath?
She panicked immediately. All the complicated thoughts in her mind were swept away.
[…Huh? Wait, wait a moment—]
“It’s fine, Elle. You can trust me… you can feel all this anyway, right? I won’t do anything to you.”
[It’s not that… but… no matter what… it’s not impossible… but, but this…I think…]
Elle was troubled. She hesitated, not knowing what to say.
Annan chuckled slightly.
She is so cute.
“Elle” opened the quilt and got out of bed with bare feet. Since she was still wearing her pajamas, the real Elle hiding in [Elle’s] heart was not so embarrassed that she shut down herself immediately.
She narrowed her pupils slightly and looked around.
Perhaps the biggest difference from the Gallery Nightmare was that there were more toys in the room.
They were the kind of items that weren’t really useful or entertaining. You might not have played with them more than a few times after buying. They seemed like impulse purchases — the kind of new toys parents bought to appease their kids when they said, “I want this.”
The key point was that it revealed another hint.
This meant that not only Elle would be able to leave the house, but she also went out and about with her parents.
In real history, in the final period — Elle was not allowed to leave home at all.
She was like a canary in a cage.
And the “Elle” here was a bird that could fly freely.
“That’s really nice.” Annan exclaimed out of nowhere.
[…Yeah, that’s pretty nice.]
Elle’s whisper echoed quietly in her heart.
Her mood settled a bit, and her reaction wasn’t as intense.
Glancing at the half-drawn oil painting and half-written lyrics on the desk, Annan couldn’t help but chuckle.
He realized that this was Elle’s evidence for thinking that he was “out to collect inspiration”.
…That’s not wrong either.
However, Elle, with her suspicions, asked a few more questions but still couldn’t figure out why Annan was laughing.
Annan quickly finished showering. With Elle’s guidance, he combed Elle’s hair and put on her outdoor outfit before leaving the house.
Before heading out, Annan specifically checked his watch. 𝒷𝓮𝒹𝓃ℴ𝓿𝓮𝓁.𝓬𝓸𝓂
—2:50 p.m.
Do different purifiers have different free time every day?
Well, that makes sense.
“Elle” left the house. What greeted her was the golden wheat field.
The midday sun was bright and warm, creating a serene atmosphere reminiscent of a fairyland far removed from the mundane world. Elle’s white dress and hair were gently caressed by the cool breeze.
She straightened her hair and listened quietly for a while.
“Actually, you should realize something is wrong while you are here.”
[Where, where…?!]
Elle hadn’t recovered from the shock of Annan helping her take a bath previously, so she responded with some embarrassment.
[I’m just an idiot anyway, okay—]
“Indeed.” Annan chuckled softly, his emerald-green eyes narrowing leisurely, “Otherwise, maybe you could have handled this nightmare on your own… perhaps.”
[What is it exactly…]
“It’s too quiet, Elle. Listen.”
Annan closed her eyes, lightly touched her right earlobe with her right hand, and tilted her head slightly to the right.
“There’s no sound, right?”
[…so what?]
“Did Amos plant this wheat field?” Annan smiled and said, “Since someone planted it, why didn’t anyone come to harvest it? Then why is there no sound of people around?
“If there’s such a vast wheat field here… then why can’t I hear any sounds of insects or birds? And most importantly — the rustling sound of wheat swaying in the wind, have you heard it?”
The answer was nothing.
It was just like a landscape painting.
But it was only at the level of [semi-finished product].
This world was only a fragment… a fragment of a dream like a fairy tale.
“You might not know this, Elle. In wheat fields, there are always insects, and there would be field mice, sparrows, rabbits… and even wolves.”
[Wolf?]
“That’s right. The farmers in the Papal Kingdom and the United Kingdom would call back their children who wanted to play or trample in the wheat fields because of the wolves inside. Even now, there’s a ritual in the Papal Kingdom and the United Kingdom to this day, called the ‘Young Wolf Wine’.”
Annan spoke in a tone one might use to tell a child a story. Yet, a meaningful smile lingered at the corner of his mouth.
“Some elderly people in the Papal Kingdom and the nobles in the United Kingdom believe that there are souls in the rice. The reason why they eat hand-pounded rice instead of machine rice in the rice mill is because they think the rice mill grinds it too much. The soul in the broken rice will escape. This soul is called the ‘Spirit of the Valley’, and it usually appears in the wheat field in the form of a wolf…that is, ‘the Wolf of the Valley’.”
“Farmers who believe in the Valley Wolf will cut off the “Valley Mother” in the field last. The so-called ‘Valley Mother” is the wheat stalk that bends first when the wind blows over the field. They believe that within it hides a “Valley Spirit” in the form of a wolf. Those who get injured and bled without noticing during the harvest have been bitten by the Valley Wolf.”
“They take seven stalks from the ‘Grain Mother’, anoint them with oil, and lay them on the bed as if they’re a child. The family then observes three days of traditional customs, just like they’ve really welcomed a new child into the world.”
“The stalks that have gone through the ritual are called ‘Young Wolves’. Just one of these stalks is considered to be worth an entire wheat field… The wine made from the ‘Young Wolves’ is called ‘Young Wolf Wine’, and it’s seen as the most valuable thing in a farmer’s home.”
[Whoa! That sounds amazing!]
Elle praised.
She asked impatiently.
[Then, what’s the use of Young Wolf Wine?]
“The answer is that it’s useless.”
[Why?]
“Because the Valley Wolf Deity is fictional. It is actually an incarnation of the Tragedy Writer when he was a mortal. It does not have any divine power at all. It is a ‘non-existent deity’.”
“Then the question is, why do people believe in the existence of the Valley Wolf? Think about it, Elle.”
Annan said, his footsteps still not stopping.
Elle curled up in her heart, thinking hard and seriously.
[Is it because no priest was born among them? And mortals will not be given divine art, so…]
“You’re getting there but that’s not the right answer.”
A smile full of malice and compassion appeared on the corner of Annan’s mouth.
“The correct answer is — even if they don’t get any divine art, even if reason has already told them that the Valley Wolf does not exist at all. But they would choose to believe that the Valley Wolf does exist.”
“Because apart from the Valley Wolf, they have no other deities to turn to. If they were to find out that the valley wolf was a falsehood, then everything they’ve done up to this point would seem so foolish and blasphemous. The peace and tranquility they’ve enjoyed up to now would be completely disrupted.”
So, the more someone believed that the Valley Wolf might not exist, the more someone could see through it all — the smarter they were… the more likely they were to have upheld this lie.
“Then, let me ask you one more thing.”
[What?]
“Does Eternal Duke exist? Or —”
“Does His presence or absence give any meaning?”
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