Alice in the Land of Steam

Chapter 964: Like a Poet?
There was silence on the top of the mountain for a while. After a while, Saint Shalia spoke slowly, with a hint of anger suppressed in her voice: "How cruel."

Xino also shook his head: "I originally thought that the Mountain Guards were different from other believers of the Return of Life Sect. The Xiatoto people have always been simple and kind. I didn't expect that they would do such a cruel thing and let a teenager sacrifice. This is really..."

It is really difficult to evaluate.

Shino couldn't think of how to describe it. She opened her mouth and quickly closed it. Only a hint of sadness flashed across her eyes, as if she felt sad for the innocent girl's experience. Because of Brandi, she had a good impression of Songtaya.

"Perhaps it's a little different than you think, Shino."

Ling Ge suddenly said, "In fact, this situation is very common in mountain tribes. In the past, when the Xia Toto people were still called the Snow Mountain Barbarians, they had a practice of abandoning some weak tribesmen during blizzards to ensure the survival of more tribesmen. Although those abandoned tribesmen voluntarily stayed for the continuation of the tribe, they still got this unpleasant name in the civilized world. Later, Saint Tumi taught the Xia Toto people hunting, gathering, animal husbandry and even farming skills, which enabled them to obtain more survival resources and thus abandoned this tradition. However, similar instincts may still flow in their blood and have not disappeared due to the changes of the times, but have a new interpretation."

To them, the unity of the order symbolizes the blizzard that was enough to destroy the tribe in the past. In order to survive this disaster, someone must make a sacrifice.

"But, I'm afraid Songtaya didn't volunteer, did she?" Xino couldn't help but say, "I think she clearly knows nothing and is completely kept in the dark by her own people. Can this be considered a tradition?"

If it is a voluntary sacrifice, no one can blame it, just like the successive heads of the Gustave family, who have inherited this glory and are prepared to sacrifice: for their hometown, for the people, for the honor of the family, or for the justice in their hearts. Such a sacrifice is glorious and deserves to be remembered by the people and history. As a knight, Xino yearns for it. However, what is the difference between an involuntary sacrifice and the crazy Eden Plan of the Witch Society?

"I think this is probably based on the special needs of the core of faith."

Sister Livia explained, "In the vision of the Mountain Guard, if we want to achieve the goal of using Songtaya as the core and transferring the faith of the believers through special channels, this core must have the basic nature of a container, that is, emptiness. Just like a blank piece of paper is better for painting, only an empty container can accommodate the faith of others. This emptiness is reflected in humans, which is the purity and innocence of their souls."

Saint Xia Liya was thoughtful after hearing this: "Purity refers to personality. Songtaya's personality is indeed pure and innocent, and she is not easily affected by those mixed powers of faith. And Immaculate refers to her cognition. If she knew the truth, she would probably doubt the meaning of her existence. Strong and extreme emotions can easily lead to disorder of the power of faith, or even rampage..."

It is not impossible for such a huge amount of faith power to run wild and devour the believers who provide faith power. Of course, this kind of runaway is like the ritual of inviting gods. In the end, it must be accompanied by the advent of the imagined gods. What kind of kingdom of God will the father of the mountains, who is controlled by extreme emotions, create? There are too many risks involved. No wonder they dare not tell Songtaya about this.

"Then," Xinuo frowned, her long eyelashes stained with gray dust, as if snowflakes had frozen into frost, "We can only watch and do nothing?"

"From an outsider's perspective, it seems so."

Lingge's words made the other two girls look as ugly as Shino's. However, he quickly added in a calm tone, "But there is still a chance. If nothing unexpected happens, tomorrow, Chief Wilhelm will come to us with the reply from the Mist Mountain Hermitage. I will mention this matter to him and ask for his opinion."

"Will this work?" Xino was the first to express doubt, and Saint Xia Liya and Sister Livia had the same reaction.

Wilhelm Dart, although he was Sontaya's father, was also the leader of the Wusu tribe and one of the twelve leaders of the mountain guards. It was impossible for him to be unaware of this matter. Since Sontaya had been chosen as the core of the ceremony, it meant that he had finally chosen the latter between his daughter and the entire mountain tribe. Could Lingge, as an outsider, persuade him to change his mind?

I'm afraid it's not that easy.

"No, it's actually possible."

The young man never did anything without confidence. He reminded the girls: "Don't forget, when we visited the Wusu tribe a week ago, Chief Wilhelm mentioned to us the relationship between the Mist Mountain Hermitage and the summoning ceremony, and he did not avoid Songtaya. Although this information is not critical, for the sake of safety, wouldn't it be better to let her avoid it? It can be seen that he may also hope that Songtaya can understand her situation and make changes, but he has never had the opportunity before..."

Xino understood immediately and continued, "And our presence is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for him?"

The young man nodded slightly, agreeing with this statement.

"It seems that Miss Sontaya's father also has a difficult life." Sister Livia felt a little relieved. At least, she didn't want Chief Wilhelm to have a personality like Mufasa the Judge, who would abandon everything he cared about, whether it was faith or emotion, in order to achieve his self-righteous goals.

She looked at Linge: "I'll leave this matter to you, Mr. Linge. If anyone among us can help Songtaya, it must be you."

You really think highly of me.

Lingge was a little helpless, but looking at the expressions of Saint Xia Liya and Xino, it seemed that they thought the same way. This made him unable to say a few humble words, as he always felt that it would become like showing off like Alice.

"Then I'll take my leave first." Sister Livia put away the tableware and put it back into the bamboo basket. Then she stood up, holding the basket with both hands, bowed slightly, and said goodbye to the three people: "Metien and the others are still waiting for me to go back and correct their homework. Although Miss Nevi'er is helping to look after them, will Shemi and Leticia really study hard? I'm a little worried. As for Songtaya's matter, I will wait for your good news on Yunjingkong Island."

She turned around, and her back figure carrying the basket gradually walked away, disappearing into the snowy moonlight. Xino originally wanted to give her a ride, after all, the mountain road at night was not very safe, but Saint Shallia told her that Sister Livia was not an ordinary nun. Although she had lost the protection of the soul of the Holy Son Gabriel, she still had some fighting power, which made the young knight feel relieved.

After learning the heavy truth about Songtaya, the three of them lost the mood to continue chatting and returned to their respective rooms to continue mapping the star map with the data and astronomical telescopes. But as expected, there was no progress. Sure enough, they still needed to get the saint's manuscript in the hands of the Wushan Hermitage to see results.

There is nothing wrong with the coordinates and data of the stars. What went wrong? What Saint Tomi did 10,000 years ago, it makes no sense that modern people with more advanced technology cannot do it 10,000 years later. Or has something changed? For example, the position of the constellations, the movement of the stars, or the expansion of the observable star field, but all the data have been clearly and detailedly recorded in paper after Galileo established the celestial calendar and astronomy developed into a professional discipline. Unless the period of change was between the time Saint Tomi founded the Spiritual Prayer Society and the time Galileo established the celestial calendar.

Curled up in the narrow hammock, the young man turned over with difficulty and sighed softly: As expected, there is still no clue, and there are too many clues missing. And there are other troubles, such as Songtaya's matter.

Sister Livia, Saint Shallia and Shino all felt that only Lingge could convince Sontaya's father, but to be honest, what the young people were most worried about in this matter was never the attitude of Chief Wilhelm.

It's Sontaya.

Some people may appear simple and innocent on the surface, but in fact they may have figured everything out a long time ago. Maybe they are strong and willful people?

The young man lay on the bed, looking at the ceiling, which had become a mottled blue-gray color after being eroded by years of wind and snow, and seemed to be very worried.

After a long time, a rhythmic breathing sound gradually began to be heard in the house, echoing in the long and quiet night along with the biting cold wind in the middle of the night.

……

The next day, Lingge got up very early. When he opened his eyes, the sky outside was still dim. The night, which had not yet completely faded, filled the space between the sky and the earth, as if covered by a gray fog. Looking around, he could barely see things within a radius of four or five meters. As for places farther away, they were all blurry shadows.

Without disturbing the two girls who were still sleeping, the young man walked to the edge of the mountain alone, raised his head slightly, and quietly looked at the dawn scenery of the Eastern Alps. The gray mist was dotted in the pair of pale golden eyes, as ethereal as floating water. This color of mist sometimes made the young man think of the sky of Linville City, which seemed to be always shrouded in such a gloomy and bleak atmosphere. But he soon found this idea a little ridiculous. How could the magnificent natural scenery be linked to the industrial waste gas produced by human civilization? It was a bit unreasonable.

He couldn't tell whether he was missing his hometown or just had a rich imagination, which led him to connect the two unrelated things. The young man suddenly came to his senses and found that the fog in the mountains began to move slowly. From the trajectory of the fog, he seemed to see the shape of the wind and the beautiful changes of light in the distance.

The clouds in the sky rolled, filled with mysterious colors. At first, they were cold blue-black, like the hard and stubborn rock wall seen after sweeping away the snow; then they turned into mysterious dark purple, exuding an intoxicating atmosphere; gradually they turned into a warm, soft light pink, like the tender and shy face of a girl. But the young man didn't have too long to appreciate them, as a ray of golden morning light quickly tore through the rolling clouds, bringing a brilliant and dazzling brilliance.

As if it were a signal or a horn urging the start of war, thousands of bright lights were like thousands of huge hands, tearing apart the clouds and mist in front of them, and coming to this land that had been kissed by the night with a grand gesture. They were like invincible holy knights, galloping across the sky and mountains of the Eastern Alps, sweeping through them in a mighty manner, expelling every inch of silence and darkness that still belonged to the night, and bringing endless dazzling light.

The whole world became brighter, and it seemed to happen in an instant, so that it was difficult for people to react. Often, you would feel that you were still in the pitch-black night one moment, counting the passage of time, and the next second you would jump to the bright dawn, watching the morning sun shining on the snow, refracting the colorful light. There was no transition in between, but it didn't feel abrupt, but rather it felt like it was supposed to be this way.

Dawn in the Eastern Alps, as it should be.

"No matter how many times I see it, I feel that this is the most spectacular sight in the world." A voice came from behind. Linger turned around and saw Chief Wilhelm walking towards him. His steady steps on the snow were like stepping on a soft carpet, which absorbed the sound of his footsteps so much that he made no noise.

"I wonder if you feel the same way, Mr. Ling?"

He stood beside the young man with his arms folded across his chest, gazing at the distant dawn with him. His towering stature made him look taller than the big cedar tree standing on the top of the mountain. To the people around him, he was an extremely oppressive presence. Perhaps only someone like Lingge could stand shoulder to shoulder with him without batting an eyelid.

"I feel the same way." Looking at the valleys in front of him covered with white, green, gray and brilliant gold, more colorful and beautiful than oil paintings, the young man said softly: "I used to imagine all the beautiful and magical things. I once stopped at the ancient palace in Sosen Mountain and saw the shadow of blooming primroses at the bottom of the cliffs where the wind never stopped... But until this moment, I realized that human imagination can never match theirs by one ten-thousandth."

"The first light in these ancient mountains—"

He seemed to be talking to Chief Wilhelm, but gave people a feeling of talking to himself: "It is the sword that ends the darkness, the flame that burns the decay, and the messenger that brings light; it is also the audience who witnesses the chaos, the undead who ignores death, and the writer who composes the tragedy... Without it, no one would feel that the long night is a torment; but in the same way, without it, we would not know that we are in the darkness and ignorant. It awakens us, but also makes us fall."

Wilhelm Dart took a deep look at the young man and commented, "You really sound like a poet."

Give me some meow