novelODS Chapter 40 Then let us pay our respects.
Chapter 40 Then let us pay our respects.
"So the gods have finally noticed me."
Chen Mo murmured softly. The sound was so soft that it was almost drowned out by the wind blowing in through the cracks in the window.
He tilted his head back and leaned against the back of the chair.
The moonlight shifted from his shoulders and fell onto the floor.
His face emerged from the shadows, and his eyes, in the moonlight, resembled two washed stones, like two bottomless wells.
The evening breeze swept across the sea off Dugu City, squeezing in through the cracks in the windows, carrying the unique scent of the horizon.
It was the scent of pine needles and earth, the aroma of sea salt and fish, the smoke from the campfire mingling with the smoky fragrance of the bakery, carrying the unique, cool dryness of an early autumn night, evoking thoughts of distant places.
He looked up at the starry sky.
Those countless points of light, peeking through the gaps in the clouds, stretching from nearby to the unseen distance.
He saw those constellations—the Thief Constellation, the Warrior Constellation, the Mage Constellation—those star charts that he was so familiar with in the game, now unfolding realistically, concretely, and vividly above his head.
But that wasn't his goal.
He is looking for a star.
His gaze moved across the night sky, from east to west, from north to south, searching for that one star among the countless points of light.
The stars that are intertwined with his fate.
"Were you watching too?"
he asks.
The sound was scattered by the wind into the long night.
……
The next morning, Chen Mo got out of bed with a normal expression.
Sunlight streamed through the gaps in the curtains, drawing a golden band of light on the floor.
He sat on the edge of the bed, put on his boots, fastened his belt, and hung the longsword enchanted with stamina absorption at his waist.
His movements were the same as every morning, neither fast nor slow, neither light nor heavy, as if what he was about to do was just an ordinary thing.
He pulled a grayish-white canvas backpack from under the bed, its edges frayed with loose threads. He had found it at the market and originally intended to use it to store soul stones and enchanting materials.
He lifted Pelagios' hip bone from the table; the grayish-white bone gleamed warmly in the morning light.
He stuffed the bones into his backpack, tightened the drawstring, and carried it on his back.
The bones were pressed against the fabric of the backpack, and even through the canvas, he could feel their warmth.
When he pushed open the door, the bakery downstairs had already opened for business, and the aroma wafted out of the open window, condensing into white mist in the cold air.
The blacksmith's furnace was burning brightly, and the clanging of hammers bounced across the stone pavement, echoing from one alley to another.
Several early-rising women were drawing water from the well, the sound of buckets clattering together mingling with their laughter.
The mornings in Dugu City are the same as every other day.
Chen Mo walked through the market, up the stone steps, and entered the gates of the Blue Palace.
He did not go to see Foko Huohu, nor did he go to see Elisif.
He knew that if he went to them, he could also obtain permission to enter the Pelagios side hall.
But he didn't.
It wasn't that he didn't want them to know; it was mainly because it would be troublesome to explain.
He can't exactly say, "I'm going to a haunted side hall that's been closed for hundreds of years, to meet a mad god, to enter the dream of a mad emperor, and to get a mad god's staff."
Moreover—Fokko Huohu absolutely does not want the relics left behind by the mad prince's dark tyranny to see the light of day again.
Pelagius III was known for his cruelty and madness during his time as lord of Solitude.
He executed nobles who defied him, burned down villages that opposed him, and imprisoned those subjects he considered "disloyal" in dungeons, leaving them to rot in the darkness.
His dark tyranny left an indelible scar on the history of Dugu City.
After his death, the Blue House decided to close the side hall where he had lived, not entirely out of superstition.
Strange noises always emanated from that place—footsteps, voices, laughter, and cries. Some people heard whispers behind the side hall door while patrolling at night, and others saw shadows flashing through the side hall window while cleaning in the early morning.
Everyone suspects that the ghost of Pelagios is still haunting the place.
Buddha was a pragmatic person; he did not believe in ghosts, but he believed in order.
The very existence of that side hall was a form of chaos, a threat to the order of the Blue Palace.
So he locked it and then pretended it didn't exist.
Chen Mo didn't want to put Buddha in a difficult position.
He walked through the main hall of the Blue Palace, past the walls adorned with portraits of the rulers of Dugu throughout history.
He walked into the east corridor on the first floor of the Blue Palace.
This corridor was much darker than the main hall, with only a few nearly burnt-out candlesticks on the walls on both sides, their light flickering in the draft.
The carpet on the floor had thinned, revealing the gray-white stone slabs underneath.
There was a musty, dusty smell in the air, the kind of damp, rotten smell that's typical of places that haven't been visited in a long time.
At the end of the corridor, there is a door.
The paint on the door has peeled off, revealing layers upon layers of old paint of different colors, covered by the passage of time.
Spiderwebs covered the door frame, and dust accumulated on the doorknob.
Above the door is a bronze plaque with the inscription: "Pelagios Side Hall. Closed. No one may enter without the steward's permission."
Chen Mo stood in front of the door and looked at it for a moment. Then he took a key out of his pocket.
He got this from the head maid on duty.
Given his current status in the Blue Palace, he naturally didn't need to explain to the maid why he needed the key, and easily managed to smooth things over.
He inserted the key into the lock and turned it.
The lock cylinder emitted a dull click, as if it hadn't been touched in a long time.
The door opened.
Chen Mo pushed open the door and went inside.
Behind the door was a narrow, dark corridor. Every few steps along the stone walls on both sides was an empty candlestick covered with cobwebs, and the ground was littered with broken pieces of wood and dried moss.
He walked to the end of the corridor.
There is a fork in the road here. To the left is a staircase leading upwards, and to the right is a passage blocked by planks and debris.
The wooden planks were nailed together tightly, one overlapping the other, the gaps filled with dust, as if they had never been opened since the day they were sealed.
Chen Mo turned to the left and went up the stairs.
At the end of the stairs is the second-floor corridor.
The corridor was very long, so long that Chen Mo, standing at the entrance, could not see its end.
Chen Mo stood at the entrance of the corridor, listening to his own breathing, his own heartbeat, and the sound of blood flowing in his veins.
He heard his own footsteps.
—Tap, tap, tap—
His boots made a crisp, rhythmic sound on the stone slabs, a sound that bounced back and forth in the narrow corridor like a stone thrown into a well, bouncing against the well wall before finally falling into the deep, deep water.
He walked slowly.
Then he realized something was wrong.
His vision began to blur.
It's as if someone has added an invisible, intangible substance to the air. That substance enters his eyes and coats his retina with a thin film, making everything blurry, distorted, and twisted.
He froze for a moment.
It was just a fleeting moment.
Then his feet stepped onto the grass.
The grass was soft, damp, and covered in dew.