RoleplayNovel Chapter 39 Accepting the Mission
Chapter 39 Accepting the Mission
Moonlight fell on the bones.
It's creepy.
The word spun around in Chen Mo's mind.
He reached out and took the hip bone.
The moment his fingers touched the bone, he felt a cold sensation.
The surface of the bone is as smooth as porcelain, but it weighs much more than it looks.
De Wenying watched as he held the hip bone in his hand, a look of relief appearing on his face.
He bowed deeply to Chen Mo.
It's not like a beggar bowing to a giver, but more like a priest paying homage before a deity.
His back hunched over, and his hat nearly fell off his head. He held it down with his hand and then straightened up.
"Well then, thank you again for your help. I look forward to hearing good news from you."
He turned around and walked to the other end of the street.
His wooden stick tapped on the stone pavement, making a "tap, tap, tap" sound.
His shadow stretched long and long in the moonlight, almost disappearing into the shadows at the end of the street.
Chen Mo looked at that figure from behind, his lips moved slightly, and then he spoke.
"Then tell me, Devin."
The old beggar's figure stopped.
Like a puppet whose pause button has been pressed, all its movements froze in that instant.
"Is it you who needs my help, or your master?"
De Wenying's body trembled slightly.
He didn't turn around; he just stood there with his back to Chen Mo.
Chen Mo looked at him.
All he could hear was the sound of the sea breeze and the muffled crashing of waves against the rocks in the distant harbor.
De Wenying didn't tell Chen Mo his name, but Chen Mo still called out his name so naturally.
After a while.
Chen Mo thought that De Wenying would not answer anymore.
Then Devon turned around.
His movements were slow and steady, and his expression changed.
His back was straight, no longer that humble, hunched posture.
The beggar-like demeanor he had been putting on was gone.
Instead, there is a more solemn and serene dignity.
He stared at Chen Mo for a long time.
Then he bent down and bowed deeply.
Like someone praying before an altar, he poured all his humility, all his piety, and all his waiting into this bow.
"As you have foreseen, sir."
Chen Mo looked at him.
The moonlight fell between the two people, like a silvery river separating them on opposite banks.
The hip bone in Chen Mo's hand was warm.
In his mind, the knowledge about Sergra, Jegelrag, Pelagius III, the Chamber of Madness, and Wabajek meshed together like gears, turning clattering away.
"Your master," Chen Mo said, his voice soft and flat, "knew from the beginning that I would come?"
Dewenying looked at him.
He did not answer.
It's not that he didn't want to answer, but that he didn't need to answer.
All answers
It's already in that bow.
Chen Mo did not ask any further questions.
He turned around and walked towards home.
Behind him, Devon stood in the moonlight, watching his departing figure. His eyes shone in the moonlight. Then he bent down, picked up the hat that had fallen to the ground, dusted it off, and put it back on his head.
His back hunched over again, his shoulders shrunk back down, and his chin lowered once more.
He became that inconspicuous old beggar on the streets of Dugu City, waiting for alms, someone no one would give a second glance to.
He turned around and walked towards the other end of the street.
His wooden stick tapped on the stone pavement, making a "tap, tap, tap" sound.
……
……
Moonlight streamed in through the window and fell on Pelagios's hip on the desk.
The light was grayish-white, cold, like a thin layer of frost.
The hip bone gleamed with a dull ivory luster in the moonlight. Froki's enchanting notes lay open on the corner of the table, a few pages fluttering in the wind before closing again.
The room was very quiet.
The fire in the bakery next door had gone out, the hammer in the blacksmith's shop had long since stopped, the old woman across the street was already asleep, and even the noise from the sailors in the direction of the giant rat had dissipated in the blink of an eye.
The city of Dugu is quiet in the dead of night, like a ghost town.
Only the sea breeze blew in from the harbor, passing through the cracks in the windows, making a faint, flute-like wail.
Chen Mo sat in the chair, his hands crossed under his chin, supporting his head.
His face was hidden in the shadows—the moonlight only illuminated half of his shoulder and a corner of his clothes, like a sculpture fixed to a chair, where even the rise and fall of his breath was barely visible.
He was thinking about many things.
Pelagius III, Sergra, Jegelagh—these words meshed together like gears, carrying his thoughts deeper and deeper, to those places he had been avoiding, unwilling to face, but now had to confront.
He knew the essence of this world of ancient scrolls.
From the very first day he arrived, from the moment he stood at the window of that unfamiliar house in Dugu City, watching the spire of Gloomy Castle pierce the leaden sky, he knew.
This is a world where gods truly exist.
It is not a metaphor, not a symbol, not something as vague as "faith".
It is a real, concrete existence that will appear before you.
The Holy Spirits slumber in the realm of light and rarely interfere in earthly affairs, yet they truly exist.
The demons, active in their respective realms of annihilation, may appear before you at any time in various forms—as a beggar, a merchant, a traveler, a cat, a wisp of mist, or a persistent voice in your mind.
They are everywhere and at all times.
He knew that once he came into this world, he would inevitably have to come into contact with them.
In this world, you cannot escape the gods, just as you cannot escape the wind, the rain, or death.
You can choose not to believe in them, not to serve them, not to accept their tasks, and not to take their rewards. But you cannot avoid them.
They will find you, appearing before you at the most unexpected time and in the most unexpected way.
He thought he had plenty of time.
He thought he could first become stronger, first familiarize himself with the world, first find his place, and then face the things he would have to face sooner or later.
But he didn't expect this day to come so soon.
He stared at the Pelagios hip bone on the table, his eyes gleaming.
The moonlight fell on the bones, making them shine white, like a polished ivory.
He looked at it as if it were a silent messenger waiting for him to make a decision.
The question he asked Devon
"Is it you who needs my help, or your master?"
And Devon's silent reply confirmed his guess.
It wasn't Devin who was looking for him; it was Shergra who was looking for him.
None of this is a coincidence.
It was an invitation.
An invitation from the madman.