11. Melitele Temple Sighting (2/5)

Parting ways with the witcher, He Shenyan began to wander the city alone. He could sense quite a few mages residing within the city; their unmasked magic was simply glaring. However, He Shenyan had no interest in seeking out these peers to exchange knowledge for the time being. After the incident with Stregobor, his impression of the mages in this world was currently at a low point.

The sun gradually climbed into the sky as he strolled along the streets of Novigrad's Upper City. It was tranquil and picturesque, with trees and flowers whose names he didn't know growing wantonly along the roadside. The men and women passing by were all dressed in high-end silk clothing, and as usual, they continued to look right through He Shenyan. The black-robed mage wove through the Upper City alone, his eyes paying no heed to the grand buildings or the noblewomen holding tea parties in their villa gardens with sofas dragged out onto the lawns.

Ultimately, he shook his head and turned to leave, heading straight for the Lower City. This place was a completely different world from the one before. People were barely clothed, the roads were mud, and beggars and the homeless were visible everywhere. It was only just past noon, yet many scantily clad women stood in the shadows of the alleys soliciting customers. They wore smiles, offering lewd laughter to every man who passed, yet their eyes held a profound numbness. Some men with short hammers and daggers hanging at their waists squatted in the alleys, eyeing every passerby with ill intent.

Only one place was an exception.

It was an old temple; the stone bricks clearly showed they had weathered many years of wind and rain, yet despite their age, they were not dirty. It was evident that someone cleaned them diligently every day. A statue stood on the stone steps in front of the entrance, and people coming and going would slow their pace as they passed, offering a respectful glance. This was true regardless of gender, and even regardless of race.

The base of the statue was flat and made of stone. Standing upon it were three women: a carefree, smiling young girl, a mature pregnant woman, and a hunched, elderly crone. He Shenyan stood beneath the statue, examining it closely. He saw a weeping woman run to the base of the crone's statue, sobbing and trembling. She stroked the crone's robe, kneeling on the mud-caked ground, murmuring in agony: "Oh! Goddess! Please, I beg you, make him stop hitting me."

He Shenyan stood behind her and could see the bruises on the woman's neck. He remained silent for a moment, cast a low-level healing spell on her, and channeled a tiny sliver of magic to attach to her, ensuring she would suffer no further harm. Once finished, he dispelled the minor trick and walked through the temple gates as if nothing had happened. Several nuns in black robes were busy sweeping the floor, and he heard muffled sounds coming from the back of the temple.

A nun spotted him and hurried over: "Good day! Sir, how may I help you?"

"Hello."

He Shenyan pondered for a moment before saying earnestly: "I know this may come across as sudden, but I would like to ask about your doctrine."

The nun looked at him blankly, then suddenly smiled after a moment: "Sir, you must be from very far away; I can tell. Both by your appearance and your question. This is the temple of the Goddess Melitele."

"As for doctrine, we have no such thing. The Goddess did teach us that we should be kind, tolerant, and helpful to others. But we do not do so because it is her requirement, but because it is her expectation, and at the same time, we hope to become better people ourselves."

The black-robed nun spoke gently, the wrinkles on her face slowly smoothing out as she spoke. A few strands of silver hair fell over her forehead as she continued: "Is there anything else you would like to know?"

"No, thank you."

To the nun, this strange man in black robes had simply walked in, asked a strange question, and left. But to He Shenyan, this was more than just a strange question.

He had once made a bet with a devil. The content of the bet was: Do you believe that no matter how terrible the circumstances, there will always be someone who maintains the kind side of human nature?

Unexpectedly, the devil believed it.

He smiled and looked back, two points of starlight igniting in his eyes as he peered through the wall in front of the temple to the space behind it. There was a small infirmary where many priestesses were busy providing free treatment to the poor who could not afford it, and many people suffering from mental anguish were pouring their hearts out to a priestess. They did all of this without asking for anything in return.

He Shenyan felt that he must learn about this Goddess and her religion.

A bald, lanky man was humming a tune as he sorted a pile of books on a cart. His name was Balk, and he was the owner of this small, unassuming bookstore. The shop was located in Hierarch Square; it had no name and no sign. Yet everyone who had visited left with a deep impression. Unlike the so-called 'reading salons' that chased current trends, this was truly just a bookstore. Aside from books, there were no other services.

"Ding."

The bell on the door chimed. Balk looked back to see a man in black robes walk in. Balk nodded at him, wiped his hands on the white apron at his waist, and walked over to extend a hand: "Good day, guest. Balk Twillens."

"Good day, He Shenyan."

After a brief introduction, He Shenyan spoke: "I would like to find some books about the Goddess Melitele and her religion."

Balk laughed and pointed to a bookshelf on the second floor: "The third shelf of that bookcase, the thirteenth book from the left—that book should contain the knowledge you seek. It will be twenty-five Crowns."

He Shenyan flicked his fingers, and the book flew down on its own. Balk was somewhat surprised: "Oh, you are a mage."

"Why? Do few mages come to you to buy books?"

"No, guest. It's not that it's rare; you are the first one in the twenty-one years I've been running this bookstore," Balk said.

"Oh?" He Shenyan became interested. He touched the cover of the book, looking at the two lines of beautiful calligraphy, and asked: "How so?"

"This might be a bit offensive, please forgive me." Balk paused before continuing: "Because mages are usually only busy cozying up to kings and mayors. Even if they buy books, they wouldn't come to me."

"I agree with the first half. As for the second half, didn't I just come?" He Shenyan made a small joke. He took a white cloth bag from his robes, which contained the money he had exchanged at the dwarven bank on his way. He grabbed a handful of coins, exactly twenty-five.

"Thank you." Balk accepted the money and placed it in the corner of his cart without even looking at it. He hesitated for a moment before asking: "I don't understand, as a mage, why would you..."

"Perhaps it's because I'm a bit different." He Shenyan winked at him and walked out the door with the book.