Though now that he thought about it, the Eternal Blazing Sun was a strange case. By rights, given the Pure White Eye, the Sun should have been second only to the "Two-Five Dragon" in its sensitivity to his presence in reality — yet it had made no contact of any kind. No goodwill, no hostility, nothing. As though it had no idea who he was or where he'd come from.
That didn't add up. Even the God of Steam and Machinery had sent Bonova to reach out.
Unless it was too preoccupied with its own problems to interfere with reality at all.
There was also the matter of Adam — after the battle at Polyport, where he'd staged a convincing defeat and let the Dragon of Imagination Ankewelt walk away with 0-08, Adam had gone straight to the Eternal Blazing Sun. Something was off there.
With no more leads to pull on, Ebner set the question aside for now. He gave the Dream Tapir an absent pat on the head, told it to keep watch on the Eternal Blazing Sun's descendant, and withdrew from the Collective Subconsciousness Sea back to his own residence.
He arrived to find the farewell banquet for the giant Groselle — hosted by the former Dragon-Slaying Hero party from The Groselle Travelogue — winding toward its end.
He had barely stepped into the dining room when the elf Siatas jabbed a finger at Groselle with the unmistakable tone of someone who would follow through on her threats.
"Groselle. Everything else aside — you had better come back. You hear me? You still have to come to the one-month celebration for my child with Mobet."
She had returned temporarily from the sea partly to see Groselle off and partly because she had recently discovered she was pregnant.
"Of course." Groselle scratched the back of his head with a sheepish grin. "Once I return to the Giant Court and formally lay down my duties, I'll definitely come back."
Mobet Zoroast steadied his slightly tipsy wife with one hand and sighed. "I know I've said this several times already, but — do you really have to go?"
"I'm sorry, Mobet. I'm a giant. No matter what, I have to go back and see the Court at least once." Groselle shook his head, his single eye as steady as ever.
Mobet recognized that look and didn't press further. He turned and tapped the taciturn ascetic beside him on the arm. "You could say something too, you know."
"I will pray to the Lord," Snowman said at last, his voice rough and low, "and ask for His protection over you."
"Snowman, Groselle is a giant," said Frunziar, who had been drinking steadily out of sentiment. "Your Lord isn't going to protect him."
"The Lord's light shines upon all peoples — human, elf, giant alike." Snowman's tone was devout and unhurried.
Frunziar opened his mouth to respond, but Ebner stepped in ahead of him. "In the Forsaken Land of the Gods," he said pleasantly, "that protection might actually be worth something."
Snowman turned sharply. Something like hope flickered behind his eyes. "Mr. Bryan — do you mean the Lord still exists? That He is in the Forsaken Land of the Gods?"
Ebner's mouth curved, and he shook his head. "No. The Ancient Sun God was betrayed by the Angel Kings and consumed. What remains in the Forsaken Land of the Gods is the largest fragment of what He once was."
The largest fragment. Snowman repeated the words under his breath, then went still, his gaze losing focus entirely.
The room had gone quiet. Even Siatas, who was rarely quiet about anything, glanced at him with something approaching concern.
The ascetic said nothing for nearly a full minute. When he finally spoke, his voice had dropped half a register, though it was perfectly steady.
"I understand."
Ebner let that sit for just a moment, then shifted. "The good news," he said, his tone warming, "is that a few Angel Kings who did not betray Him are working to restore your Lord. If you make a wish, I can send you to one of them."
Restore the Lord. Snowman blinked, and then something ignited behind his eyes. His voice wavered slightly. "Which Angel Kings?"
"The Red Angel, Medici, and the Fantasy Angel, Adam. Their paths toward restoring your Lord are different — and they are opposed to each other. Think carefully about which one you want."
Ebner gave a brief account of the particular tension between Medici and Adam.
"There's nothing to think about." Snowman's answer came immediately. "I'll follow the Fantasy Angel. He is the Lord's firstborn son. As for the Red Angel — the True Creator He serves is not my Lord. I've come to understand that much over this time. The Lord would not be as He is."
He turned to Ebner and bowed with real gravity. "Please guide me to the Fantasy Angel."
"Wish received," Ebner said with a smile.
Telling Snowman about the Ancient Sun God's fragmentation had been an impromptu decision, made the moment he registered that something might be seriously wrong with the Eternal Blazing Sun. The purpose was to use Snowman as a probe — to see how Adam responded, and whether the Sun's troubles were Adam's doing. With the All-Knowing Eye behind his Discernment, whatever Adam did next would give something away.
As for whether Snowman would actually find Adam — that wasn't a concern. Snowman was a genuine believer of the Ancient Sun God who had lived inside The Groselle Travelogue for thousands of years, and the Travelogue's creator, the Dragon of Imagination Ankewelt, was currently one of Adam's avatars. With that many threads connecting them, if he still couldn't engineer a meeting, he had no business calling himself a Discerner who could move fate.
With Snowman visibly energized, Mobet shared in his friend's renewed spirit — but couldn't resist turning to Ebner with a look of mild grievance. "We gathered to see off one person, and the moment you walked in, there were two guests of honor. You owe the table a few drinks for that."
He's already picked up the elven way of talking. Ebner kept the thought to himself, picked up a glass of Aurmir without argument, and drank it straight down.
Then he gave Mobet the look of a man who has just decided to be helpful, and turned to Siatas. "Pregnancy must be exhausting at four months?"
Siatas pressed a hand to her stomach and grimaced. "The early stage was manageable, but now it's uncomfortable and inconvenient basically all the time."
"I have a suggestion that might take the weight off," Ebner said, with a perfectly straight face.
"What suggestion?" Siatas asked, brightening.
Mobet looked over too, though something in his expression had already begun to tighten.
"Beyonders of the Thief pathway are capable of stealing a fetus — womb and all — and transferring it into their own body," Ebner said. "You could simply have a Dreamstealer carry the child for you." He finished the sentence and cut a glance at Mobet, who had gone completely still.
Siatas's eyes lit up. She turned to her husband immediately. "Is that true?"
"The stealing part... purely as a mechanical matter... might be possible," Mobet said, with the careful pronunciation of a man walking through a minefield. "But everything after that — that is entirely beyond my abilities—"
"Then we'll try it and figure out the rest as we go. And if we can't work it out, you can go home and ask your great-grandfather." Siatas was already enthusiastic.
Mobet managed a pained noise of assent, then turned and gave Ebner a look of profound reproach.
Ebner gazed placidly past him and took another sip of his drink.
The banquet ended shortly after, the Mobet household's domestic drama providing a natural conclusion. Groselle shouldered his packed bag, said his farewells one last time, and disappeared into the depths of the residence alongside the quietly materializing Alvin Abraham.
The ascetic Snowman, now alone, wasted no time. He asked Ebner to take him to Adam the moment Groselle had gone.
Ebner obliged on the spot, placing him on a long road in Intis with a single instruction: "Follow this road, and bow to the ground with every step. When you reach the end, you'll find a church. The person you want to see will be there."
Said to most people, that would have earned him a string of insults. Snowman received it with complete sincerity, thanked Ebner, and began his pilgrimage with the unhurried conviction of a man who had never doubted a sacred instruction in his life.
Ebner watched the figure growing smaller in the distance, one bow at a time, and narrowed his eyes. Unless Adam deliberately refuses the meeting, Snowman will reach that church eventually. It's just a matter of when.
He spent the remainder of the night in Trier, going over with Irene and Fanny how to weather the coming war and where the best opportunities within it might lie. By sunrise he was back in Backlund.
After a brief rest, he stepped into Alvin's Palace and retrieved the Book of Virtues — taken from Daphne, vice-president of the Secret Order and bearer of the title Ancient Scholar — and settled in to study it carefully.
The intelligence gathered in the Memory Labyrinth had been clear: the Night Emperor's soul and the Nation of Disorder's imprint were both hidden somewhere within these pages.
(End of Chapter)