Alice in the Land of Steam

Chapter 1358 Are all mortals sacrifices?
"Perec, how's your study progress?"

"Ah, teacher, I've finished reading all the books you gave me! Look, it's this pile over there. What do you think? Aren't I amazing?"

"In that case, this is your next task."

The young man coldly ignored the little girl's excited, self-satisfied expression. He lightly tapped the ground with his staff, and another shower of books appeared out of thin air, their pages rustling and turning into a chaotic melody in the girl's ears. Her excited expression vanished instantly, and she cried out with a mournful face, "Too many, teacher! How can I possibly read them all?"

"One year."

The young man said calmly, "You spent half a year learning the basics, so I'll give you a year to learn these advanced topics. I'll come back to see you after a year, and with your talent, you shouldn't disappoint me, Pereike."

Having said that, he turned to leave without a trace of hesitation. The girl was taken aback by his resolute attitude, and then a complex mix of emotions welled up inside her. Six months ago, he had done the same thing, leaving behind a pile of books and abandoning her to study alone. If it weren't for the guards bringing her food and clothes at the same time every day, the girl would probably have thought she had been abandoned.

However, it shouldn't be like this.

He had clearly stated before that I was the most suitable, the most important, and the most unique candidate, capable of helping him explore the mysteries of this world's constant evolution and elimination. Why, then, is he now ignoring me and letting me drift aimlessly? Could it be that I have disappointed him? I've already tried so hard, forcing myself to learn so much in half a year, just to make him turn around and look at me once… and in the end, all I get is a fleeting turn away?

"Wait, wait a minute!" the girl couldn't help but call out. She saw the young man stop and turn around, his gaze still indifferent. A little frightened, she still mustered her courage and asked, "I...I want to study with the teacher...is that alright?"

The more he spoke, the weaker his voice became, until it was almost inaudible.

"No." The young man's cold reply made the girl turn pale: "You haven't met the standard yet, and you can't be of any use to my current research."

Function... He used this word to describe what Pereira meant to him.

It's just a tool. If it's useless, put it aside; you'll only think of it when it's useful.

But, but… The girl’s emerald eyes gradually welled up with tears. She gently bit her lower lip, then suddenly mustered her courage and shouted, “Then, if I can be of any use, will the teacher let me study by your side?”

The young man was silent for a moment, then slowly nodded: "Okay."

The girl's tense shoulders relaxed, and she instinctively hugged the book in her arms tightly, as if it were her only support.
"Then I will try my best!"

Work even harder than before!
"I'll definitely be able to help my teacher someday!"

Even if it's just a tool that's needed.

"Please look forward to my performance, teacher!"

Even if it's just a tiny bit of expectation.

That's fine too...

……

When the experiment was conducted for the first time, the young girl, who was just coming of age, was shocked and terrified because the experimental subject placed on the experimental table was... a person.

A living person, who, though unconscious, still has a faint heartbeat.

The girl stared blankly at the person, a thin and frail boy. He was likely of elven race; although his appearance resembled hers, his skin was covered with a soft, living layer of moss, like fine down. She had read similar descriptions in books and recognized it as a unique characteristic of a race called Wood Elves. The moss on their bodies would change color depending on their health; normally it should be a moist, bright green or a warm, grassy yellow. But this boy had suffered something terrible; his moss was a listless, grayish-white, like dense mycelium, sending chills down her spine.

His breathing was heavy and his heartbeat weak; he was clearly on the verge of death and would soon die if no action was taken.

She asked blankly, "Teacher, should we...save him?"

"Do not."

The young man said calmly, “I am researching the root cause of pathological mechanisms. Whether at birth or death, the basic substances that constitute a living organism remain unchanged. Therefore, theoretically, every living organism should have the same resistance to disease. However, in reality, even excluding acquired factors such as growth environment, medical level, and physical fitness, there are still obvious differences between races based solely on innate factors. Take the Wood Elf race before you, for example. They are not only immune to many diseases, but they can even analyze the principles of diseases to give their bodies new adaptations. They will never be infected with the same disease a second time. Many people say that this is a gift from the Creator, a racial talent of the Wood Elves, like the brute strength of giants, the wings of Feathered Elves, or the ability of Mirror Elves to resonate with the sea, and cannot be replicated. I don’t think so. I would tentatively speculate that it is an ability that the Wood Elf race has evolved through continuous adaptation and elimination. If we can analyze its evolutionary principles, perhaps we can replicate this process.”

Because the girl had earned her own approval through hard work and become a qualified assistant, the young man's explanation was more detailed than before. In the past, he might have answered the girl's question with just a sentence or even two or three words.

The latter, however, was not pleased; instead, an unpredictable sense of dread arose within him: "So, you want me to..."

"Use your ability on him, Perec." The young man's voice was flat, as if he were simply conveying a most ordinary instruction: "Infect him with multiple diseases. I need to observe the specific mechanisms by which this adaptive ability operates in his body, recording every fluctuation of magical energy and every abnormal change in physiological indicators. This is the first step in the analysis."

"..."

The girl's breath hitched, a familiar chill rising from her spine, gradually freezing her soul. It was a feeling she had felt long ago, an uncontrollable sensation when faced with people's hateful gazes and evil curses. She thought she should have become numb long ago, abandoning it with the passage of time, but unexpectedly, the same feeling arose again today. But perhaps this wasn't a sudden impulse, but rather a long-planned scheme planted by fate in her path.

"You mean... you want me to kill him?"

“Killing anyone is not my intention, but if he can’t take it and dies in the end, it is an unavoidable part of the experiment.” “But, but… I, I can’t do it, I can’t do it…” The girl shook her head blankly, muttering to herself as she kept backing away, as if she wanted to escape from this cold and pale laboratory, to escape into the sunlight, so that she could breathe heavily and relieve the feeling of drowning.

"Can't do it?" The young man frowned. "Why? After two years of study and training, you should have already mastered your abilities. Releasing disease agents to infect others is not a difficult thing for you."

"It's not a question of whether it can be done, teacher, he... he's still alive..."

“He’s still alive, of course. If he were dead, we wouldn’t need him as a test subject.” The young man suddenly understood, his brows furrowing even deeper: “Are you afraid?”

"Um……"

"When I rescued you, you were about to die by a soldier's sword or become a sacrifice for cultists, but at that time there was no fear in your eyes, only peace. Why should someone who doesn't even care about their own life and death be concerned about the life and death of others?"

"That's not how it is, teacher..."

“Only those who are mediocre, pedantic, and ignorant would use so-called humanity to limit their steps in seeking the truth; in reality, it is nothing but cowardice. What is needed on the path to truth and the root is pure and absolute reason, not weak and superfluous humanity.” The young man looked at her calmly: “Perec, I call you by this name, do you know what it means?”

"..."

"Plke, in the language of the Moria, means a pure and immortal soul. In the scrolls left behind by the first great shaman, Keples, he hypothesized that if a mortal could endure a hundred trials of the world, constantly eliminating the weak and superfluous, he could obtain a flawless soul, evolving from a mortal into a true holy spirit. However, people are foolish, often burdened by worldly affairs, indulging in wealth or vanity. They merely doubt or resist things they cannot understand. Only an absolute truth can guide them onto this path of evolution. Pereke, I once firmly believed that your power contained fragments of truth. Once pieced together, it could create the realm envisioned by the great shaman Keples. All impure, defiled, and insignificant things would be eliminated, while all pure, flawless, and great things would endure forever. This world is constantly changing; elimination and survival are the essence of life. Even today, do you still not understand this?"

"..."

Pereira remained silent, her arms trembling, her shoulders trembling, her lips trembling… Every part of her body was filled with fear and terror, yet miraculously, she felt no urge to flee. Instead, she recalled that despairing, overcast day, in the wind carrying the scent of blood, the young man's outstretched hand. He had given her a name, given her a goal, given her a reason to exist—to become a useful tool in the search for the highest truth.

This is the moment to prove yourself "useful," the only way to gain even the slightest bit of his approval.

Although the price is surrendering to one's past.

These hands had killed so many during countless years of solitary wandering, but never by Pereike's own volition. The rampant diseases and pervasive plagues were not her companions, but rather the cause of suffering. Today, she only needed to gently extend her hand to accelerate the process for a life already on the verge of death, and she would gain her teacher's approval. Passive versus active, countless people versus one person—when the disparity in numbers is vast enough, individual will seems insignificant. From this perspective, the choice her teacher gave her seems much gentler than the choice fate had given her.

"Sorry……"

The girl looked up blankly at the boy on the lab table, murmuring repeatedly, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."

Metatron watched this scene indifferently as his student gently placed his hand on the boy's forehead, as if closing his eyes and soothing all his unease.

He couldn't help but think that people's choices are like illnesses, and everything has a traceable pattern.

But not everyone can be cured of it.

……

Years later, standing in the night, gazing at the tide outside the port of Mozon, Pereira would suddenly recall her teacher's words and feel a deep sadness. So many years had passed; the memory had faded rather than been forgotten, like a storybook that had been read so many times that even the pages had yellowed, let alone the words and pictures on them.

Pereira didn't want to recall what happened after that. She just suddenly understood why she had thought of this past event again: Tentis's pale face at this moment was exactly the same as the face of the wood elf boy who lay on the experimental table many years ago, waiting for an unknown fate.

They were all sacrifices, destined to be offered up in exchange for the right to realize their ideals. However, the wood elf boy had no choice; he could only be sacrificed by others, such as his own teacher. But Tentis had a choice; she could choose to refuse anyone from offering herself up and then push herself onto that path herself.

Although, once someone becomes a sacrifice, their fate will be tragic, regardless of whether they have a choice or not.

Pereira withdrew her gaze, no longer daring to observe Tentis's expression.

“I have to go,” she said softly. “I will let you know when I’m ready, Tentis.”

Tantis didn't move, but sat on the cold edge of the dock, looking up at her. The dim lights in the distance cast swaying shadows on her long black hair and the plain white hem of Pereira's dress. Time seemed to freeze between them for a moment, with only the monotonous sound of waves crashing against the piles, the whistling of the wind through the abandoned dock warehouses, and the faint, indistinct voices from further away that seemed to belong to another place.

“Yes,” she replied, her voice low and clear, cutting through the background noise of the harbor. “Go, Perec.”

Her last conversation with her consisted of just these few simple words.

Tennys remained seated on the cold, damp edge of the dock, her gaze following the figure that gradually faded into the darkness and became indistinct, until it completely disappeared behind the shadows of the harbor lights and the outline of the abandoned warehouse. At that moment, her fingertips unconsciously curled up, feeling a chill that went straight to her heart.

The waves crashed relentlessly, rusted metal groaned in the wind, the distant, indistinct sound of ship horns rang out, and the omnipresent, salty sea breeze seemed to carry the smell of disinfectant… Yet, none of this could withstand the sudden, heavy weight of a profound emptiness that made it almost impossible for her to breathe.

The Witch of Reality sat alone, motionless for a long time.

Give me some cats