novelODS Chapter 38 Madness and Order
Chapter 38 Madness and Order
The demons joined forces, gathering the power of all the demons, and carved a wound on Jegelrag's body of order that could never heal.
That wound was not physical, but spiritual—from Jegellag's order, his opposite was born.
Shergra.
Madness, chaos, irrationality.
The more orderly Jegellag became, the more insane Shelgra became.
The more rational Jegellag became, the more insane Shelgra became.
The more silent Jegellag became, the louder Shelgra became.
Two completely opposite personalities coexist in the same body, like two stars bound together, revolving around each other, restraining each other, and devouring each other.
Order and madness were so engrossed in their internal struggles that they had no time to bother other demons.
Jegellag wants to restore order, while Shelgra wants to create chaos.
Jegellag wanted the world to be as precise as a clock, while Shergra wanted it to be like an overturned palette.
They fought for countless ages, with no winners and no losers.
They are two sides of the same coin; you can't eliminate one side and keep the other.
So the gods were safe.
And Shergra—that madman, that artist, that unpredictable being—his very existence is an endless civil war.
Chen Mo remembered these things.
These contents, which players have discussed, analyzed, and researched repeatedly in the background story of The Elder Scrolls, have been etched into his mind.
At this moment, this knowledge meshed together in his mind like gears, turning clattering, and told him a conclusion: the beggar in front of him, his master, is one of the most dangerous beings in this world.
"Would you be willing to help me?" The beggar's voice—De Wenying's—sounded again, softer and more cautious than before, as if he were confirming something.
Chen Mo looked at him, at those eyes that shone like stars in the moonlight, at that face that was mostly covered by the brim of a tattered hat, at those hands that were gripping a wooden stick, their knuckles white and trembling slightly.
"So, what do you want me to help you with?" he asked. His voice was soft and flat, as if he were asking a question he already knew the answer to.
Devon's fingers tightened slightly on the wooden stick.
"Can you help me find my master?" His voice was even softer than before, as if he were telling a secret that no one else could hear.
"His people need him. His empire is now engulfed in conflict. Now he won't even see me, saying I've disturbed his vacation."
Chen Mo listened to these words.
Subjects, Empire, Conflict, Vacation.
These words, spoken by a beggar, carried a strange, incongruous weight.
It's like someone in a theatrical costume reciting lines that don't belong to the character.
Where is your master now?
Devon's eyes lit up again.
He leaned forward slightly, the shadow of his hat brim shifting away from his eyes to reveal a pair of complete, deep brown pupils that shone brightly in the moonlight.
"The last time I saw him," he said, his voice lowering.
"He's visiting a friend at the Blue Palace. But not some common man like the lord. No, such a person is not worthy of seeing him."
Chen Mo's lips twitched.
His Highness Elisifer's reputation has been unfairly damaged.
The High Queen, ruler of Solitude, and nominal supreme leader of Skyrim, is merely a "commoner" in the eyes of the Mad God's priests.
But he also knew that Devon was telling the truth.
In the eyes of the madman, everyone is the same.
Emperor, queen, beggar, priest, hero, villain—in his realm, before madness, all identities, statuses, titles, and powers are like paper soaked in water, easily torn apart.
His master met with friends who were not lords, not queens, not any living people.
It was a dead person.
A dead man who died hundreds of years ago, who was once the lord of Dugu City, later became the emperor of the empire, and finally went mad, is now reliving his eternal madness in his dream.
Pelagius III.
The emperor of the Third Age, the infamous "Mad Emperor" in Tamriel's history.
Before he went to the capital to become emperor, he served as the lord of Dugu City.
His madness stemmed from childhood trauma—his mother's oppression, court intrigues, and the weight of power weighed on him layer by layer, crushing his sanity bit by bit.
His dream world was a twisted, absurd, and symbolic labyrinth.
In the game, you need to use the "power" given to you by Shelgra—a strange ability to change the reality of dreams—to "solve" the "puzzles" in his dreams using the "logic of a madman."
Chen Mo accepted this quest because it was one of the few quests in The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim where you could obtain a Daedric artifact without fighting.
You don't need to kill anyone, fight any monsters, or go through any caves.
All you need to do is enter the dream of a dead person and solve a few "psychological problems" using "the logic of a madman," and Shelgra will give you a staff—Wabajek.
The staff's effect is random—it turns an enemy into a chicken, or blows an enemy into a fireball, or turns an enemy into a pile of gold coins.
You never know what effect it will have in the next second, because it is the embodiment of madness itself.
Chen Mo had done this task countless times in the game.
Every time, he would think to himself: Dragonborn really can do any kind of job.
Slaying dragons, killing vampires, negotiating, catching thieves, delivering messages, finding cats, and helping one madman solve the psychological problems of another madman.
Now, it's his turn.
He looked at Devin Ying, at that weathered face, mostly obscured by the brim of a tattered hat, now bearing an expression of anticipation.
"Is he at the Blue Palace?" Chen Mo asked.
Devon nodded.
"The Room of Madness. The locked room at the very back of the side wing of the Blue Palace. The key is—" He paused, as if recalling something, "in the office of the steward, Foco Hohu."
"I understand," Chen Mo said. His voice was calmer than he had expected.
"I will help you."
Devon's eyes lit up.
"Thank you so much..." His voice trembled. "Oh, by the way, please take this with you."
"You need this hip bone. You can only enter the Pelagios side hall with it."
Then he stretched out his hand—as if by magic, his hand emerged from behind him, holding a huge bone.
It was a human hip bone, grayish-white, with a smooth surface, as if it had been touched repeatedly for many years.
Chen Mo stared at the hip bone and remained silent for a second.
My lips twitched again involuntarily.