Gazing at the Sky

Viscount Andrew placed a special mark on the secret letter, rolled it up, and sealed it meticulously with wax. Once everything was done, Viscount Andrew let out a soft breath, recalling if he had missed or made any mistakes.

There shouldn't be any—everything agreed upon was written in the secret letter, and it was written truthfully and reliably. Viscount Andrew was quite confident in his storytelling ability; he felt anyone who read the secret letter would believe he was a firsthand witness to "that matter."

The rest depended on whether the old king in the capital was willing to believe the matter itself.

No, it should be said whether he was willing to admit the truth of the matter.

This was a somewhat risky move, but Viscount Andrew was not averse to taking risks—if he hadn't taken risks, he wouldn't have stood out among his seven siblings to become the heir of the Leslie Family.

He just hadn't expected his new adventure to be tied to the Cecil Family.

That family, which was already in decline, had withdrawn from the center of the kingdom's politics a hundred years ago, and in modern times had become so sparse in population that it was close to dying out naturally.

Viscount Andrew had always paid close attention to his "neighbors," not only because their territories were adjacent and they often had trade dealings, but also because the decline of the Cecil Family had worsened in the past two years. If things continued at the original pace, Viscount Andrew could expect to double the size of the Leslie territory within his lifetime—that young girl who hastily inherited the family business was not a qualified lord at all. Although she tried her best, she definitely couldn't hold onto her family's meager assets.

However, fate played a joke on everyone, and in a way no one could have predicted: when Viscount Andrew heard Cecil Territory had been destroyed by monsters, he was stunned; when he heard those monsters were very similar to the creatures from the Magic Tide recorded in history, he was still stunned; when merchants entering the city mentioned a Dragon appearing, he was also stunned; and when Rebecca Cecil and Heti Cecil brought a man who claimed to be their ancestor into the castle... Viscount Andrew displayed great composure and adaptability.

That was because he had finally gotten used to being stunned.

But after ending his conversation with that "Ancestor Lord" and returning to his chambers, Viscount Andrew felt he had made the right decision.

A noble lineage on the verge of extinction and a territory burned to the ground held no value; no more moisture could be squeezed out of them. If he wanted to recoup his costs, it would be better to transform from a greedy exploiter into a generous neighbor. Moreover, the existence of that "Ancestor Lord" was key—Viscount Andrew was now ninety percent convinced of the truth of the matter. Whether the Cecil family had that ancestor or not was an entirely different concept.

He sealed the secret letter in a silver tube, wrapped a magic thread around it, and then handed it to the old butler standing beside him: "Give it to the best ranger messenger—have them depart by Griffon, and ensure the messenger delivers it to Silver Castle after the first messenger arrives but before the Cecil family arrives."

The butler took the silver tube and was about to turn away when Viscount Andrew called out to him: "Wait a moment. Also, go to the silver vault—return the gold and silver belonging to the Cecil family as they are."

"Yes, Viscount. But is it enough to return them as they are?"

"Returning them as they are is sufficient. When they depart, I will prepare a little something in the name of travel expenses."

The situation had changed. The "fees" collected earlier out of a ridiculous greed had now become a hot potato. Returning them as they were was only the first step, but he couldn't do it too abruptly.

Viscount Andrew carefully weighed things in his mind, hoping that ancient person from seven hundred years ago could understand his sincerity.

The night was deep.

Gawain, wearing a robe, pushed open the balcony door of his room and stepped out onto the terrace on the second floor of the Viscount's castle.

There was no moon in the night of this world. In the deep firmament, there were only stars, more numerous than on Earth. Those twinkling stars cast a cold, clear radiance upon the land, and each ray of starlight was particularly unfamiliar to Gawain.

Since arriving in this world, he had always loved looking up at the sky—day or night. During the day, he watched the huge yet not overly dazzling "sun," and at night, he watched the moonless night sky.

His gaze moved among the stars, trying to find a stationary, exceptionally special celestial body among the twinkling stars.

But this was destined to be a futile attempt. There were so many stars, and he lacked sufficient data and calculation figures. He couldn't find the position from which he had once looked down upon the earth, and even if he found it, he couldn't distinguish it from the myriad stars.

But he couldn't help but do it, because he knew better than anyone that secrets were hidden in the sky of this world. There was something there, perhaps some kind of monitoring device, a satellite, a space station, or a ship. Although it was highly likely that it was now inoperable, it couldn't be ruled out that other things that were still operational were hanging in the sky.

He himself had been a part of that monitoring device—this was the closest guess Gawain had come to after many days of thought.

If he hadn't had the experience of looking down upon the earth, if he had possessed Gawain Cecil's body immediately upon arriving here, he would not have had this kind of awareness or felt corresponding pressure. But he happened to know some things, and as an Earth soul with a modern mindset, he couldn't control his curiosity about the sky... and his worry.

What was hanging in the sky? What impact would it or they have on the earth? Would it or they always hang there so peacefully? What would be the purpose of its or their creator—if there was a creator?

All of this gave Gawain a sense of urgency that he couldn't express to outsiders, as if an Earthling had suddenly learned that an alien spaceship was hovering directly above their heads. Even if that ship had been motionless for hundreds of thousands or even millions of years, people living on the ground would find it hard to rest easy.

He had to understand the origin and whereabouts of it or them to sleep soundly.

And even without this worry, simply out of curiosity, Gawain couldn't ignore the sky.

"By the way, are you looking up at the sky every day—either at the sun or the stars."

Suddenly, a girl's voice came from behind him. Gawain looked back and saw the half-elf rogue sitting on the railing of the terrace, her back to the outside, smiling at him. Her legs dangled below the railing, showing no fear of falling.

Gawain glanced at her: "Sneaking onto someone's balcony in the dead of night to scare them is not very polite."

"The night is my domain; shadows are everywhere, and I can go wherever I want," Amber swayed on the railing, her body melting into the shadows, and the next moment she appeared on the other side of the balcony. "Besides, you, a great hero from seven hundred years ago, are you really afraid of someone suddenly talking to you at night?"

Gawain felt a little embarrassed to admit that he had indeed gotten goosebumps just now...

"By the way, what exactly are you looking at every day?" Amber asked, seeing Gawain remain silent, and then changed the subject. "Looking at the sun during the day is to determine direction; are you doing divination by looking at the stars at night? Do you know divination?"

"What do you think is in the sky?" Gawain asked her back.

"The sky? Isn't it just stars and the sun and such?" Amber replied casually. "Oh, right... you're not going to tell me the palaces of the gods are also in the sky and try to preach to me, are you? I'm not interested in that—I believe in the Goddess of Shadow and Night, also known as the Night Lady. The Night Lady's divine realm is in the deepest part of the starless night, a place completely different from the sky in the real world. I consider it worshipping the gods if I just close my eyes and pray every day!"

"You're really a follower of the Goddess of Night?" Gawain looked at Amber with some surprise. Although he himself had no faith, he knew a lot about the world's religions from Gawain Cecil's memories. The myriad gods and various sects amazed him and made him keep his distance, but he hadn't expected that this thief, who didn't seem pious at all, was actually a person of faith.

"I just believe casually. Anyway, the Night Lady doesn't require offerings, doesn't issue divine pronouncements, and doesn't need regular worship or sacrifices. It doesn't cost me a single copper, so why wouldn't I believe in her?" Amber said lightly, uttering words that would be considered blasphemous by true believers. "Besides, the path of shadow has something to do with the Night Lady's divine authority. Sometimes I feel like my prayers actually make me a little stronger—although later every time it turns out to be an illusion caused by being drunk."

Gawain curled his lips and decided not to bother with this loose-lipped half-elf.

She was simply a disgrace to elves—whatever her other bloodline was, it was also a disgrace to its corresponding bloodline.

"Hey, hey, why aren't you talking anymore?" Amber wasn't going to let him off the hook. "You haven't answered yet, what exactly are you looking at?"

Gawain glanced at her sideways: "Have you ever heard a saying that after people die, their souls return to the sky, wandering among the stars, and that each star is actually the soul of an ancestor..."

"Never heard of it. I heard that after people of faith die, their souls are taken by the deity they believe in, and then they party in the divine realm. As for those without faith, their souls are uniformly taken by the God of Death and then combed of all memories by the God of Death's wife with an iron comb before being thrown back to the mortal world—which is why some say all living beings, regardless of their faith, are default followers of the God of Death," Amber chattered. "But your saying is also very interesting. Do souls go to the sky after death? Is this some religious saying from seven hundred years ago?"

Gawain was a little embarrassed: "No, this is..."

"Ah, right! You've died before!" Amber's eyes widened as if she had discovered a new continent, looking at Gawain. She swayed and came right in front of him, leaning in and asking eagerly, "Did you go straight to the sky after you died back then? What is it like when people die? Tell me!"

"Go away, go away!" Gawain pushed Amber away by pressing on her face. "After people die, they know nothing, understand? I was just talking nonsense because I was bored just now!"

"Tch..." Amber glared at Gawain for a long time, and when she confirmed he really didn't want to tell her, she turned her head away. "Old people are so boring."

Gawain: "Say that again?!"

With a whoosh, Amber disappeared.