Alice in the Land of Steam

Chapter 360 Are all human beings the same?

After sighing a little about the magical prophecies of the Moryas, Linger asked, "So, what happens next? If no one inherits the position of wizard, what will become of the tribe?"

Saint Shalia had a confused look in her eyes and shook her head: "I don't know."

"do not know?"

"kindness."

The girl lowered her head, looking disappointed. "After the baptism ceremony, some people in the tribe accused me of usurping the heritage of the Moryas and plotting to steal their knowledge and witchcraft. They believed that this would be a precursor to the coming disaster, so they banned me from staying in the tribe. At that time, I heard them fearfully call me... a witch."

When the lamb heard this, it bleated in dissatisfaction. It had also experienced the same thing and was standing up for its master. When Ling heard the word "witch", he immediately thought of the witch society that Rochelle had mentioned. He quickly asked, "Does the Morya legend also mention witches?"

"Yes." The girl nodded slightly: "This is a legend as old as the King of Elves. They believe that it was the witch who caused the disaster of destruction, destroyed their hometown, and made the ancestors of the Morya people lose their physical and spiritual home. In other words, the witch is the culprit for their wandering fate. At the same time, it also symbolizes some kind of irresistible natural disaster. It is said that Sangil, the great wizard who is known as the closest to the King of Elves in the Morya clan, once left such a prophecy-"

She paused for a moment, then sang softly, "When the witch is reborn, she will cause wars to break out in the world, and the world will be filled with flames of war, so that all living things will perish. That is the greatest disaster, and also the last and oldest judgment. In the final chapter of the baptism, the star of heaven will fly from the ground to the sky. It is hope, and the only thing that will lead the innocent through suffering and gain eternity. Those who are guilty will not be recognized by it, nor will they be able to climb on its back. Guilty people, go to the temple on the edge of fate and pray, and witness the end of the world and salvation at the place closest and farthest from the sky."

In the vast night, the soothing and gentle voice was like the ups and downs of notes flowing from the strings of a piano, or like the chanting of an ancient and time-honored poem, gradually drawing Ringla into the prophecy: a witch was born to judge the world, and all things in the world would vanish.

"Is this prophecy true?" he couldn't help asking, and then realized that he had asked a very stupid question, because no one could prove the truth of the prophecy, and whether the judgment it mentioned would happen did not depend on human will.

Saint Shalia knew this, so she used the most common phrase as an answer: "Sorry, I don't know."

"It has been three thousand years since the death of the Great Wizard Sangir. I am afraid that even the Moryas themselves have almost forgotten this prophecy."

The White Tower Society, Master Pierre, the Pan-Continental Hypothesis; the Moryas, the Great Witch Sangil, the prophecy of destruction and judgment; the witch, the king of elves, the ancient age, the Pangaea; the philosopher, the witch society, the girl's kingdom... Lingge had to admit that humans always knew nothing about the world they lived in. It was not until this time that they discovered how complicated the truth was.

Three thousand years later, it's this time again.

Soon, the sound of chasing and flapping could be heard from deeper in the forest. It was the night owl that was hunting small animals such as mice, gliders or rabbits that were foraging at night. When the dark shadow passed through the forest, perhaps only a larger creature like a human could make it actively avoid it.

Three thousand years ago, in the disaster of destruction, the witch destroyed the homeland of the Moryas, and the great wizard Sangil died after leaving a prophecy; three thousand years later, the old wizard's prophecy mentioned that new hope was coming, and it was baptized with blood and entrusted to Saint Shallia.

The rotten grass glowed, dust floated in the air, the mushrooms and short-stemmed agarics under the rotten wood were growing silently in the night, and the sound of the waterfall pouring into the pool on the purple cliff was tinkling. Suddenly, there was a sound from the branch, and a night owl flapped its wings and flew away, the sound of its wings echoing in the quiet and empty forest.

Lingge could not confidently confirm that the person the prophecy pointed to was himself, but he vaguely glimpsed some clues about the connection between this prophecy and modern human civilization: if history was traced back three thousand years, it would happen to enter the ancient century that could not be proven by the historical community and existed only in a hypothetical sense, as well as the mysterious and unknown Pangaea.

He rubbed his brows and felt a little headache. He thought that if he continued to think about it, he would not be able to sleep well at night. After all, he was not a heartless guy like Alice. No matter what happened, he could not disturb her mood when she was playing games or sleeping.

Saint Xia Liya suddenly spoke up and brought the topic back to the topic: "After leaving that tribe, I wandered around the world, looking for traces of other young royal powers, and didn't pay attention to their situation. But I think if those young people who are eager to integrate into civilized society had not changed their original ideas, I am afraid that the tribe would have fallen apart long ago."

The tribe has lost its wizard, has no one to guide it, and lacks cohesion. There is no other way to go.

Lingge said dully: "In that case, the Moryas are no different from ordinary people." Although that ancient and mysterious nation left behind many prophecies and mastered incredible knowledge of astrology and alchemy, it was still fragile and vulnerable in the face of the torrent of the times, just like when it faced the disaster of destruction.

Saint Shalia whispered, "Humans are generally the same."

Linger stopped talking and looked up. Through the dense branches and leaves, he saw the night sky was so deep that it seemed transparent, and the stars seemed dim. There was no clock tower on the island, and Linger didn't like to wear pocket watches, so it was difficult to know the exact time, but he thought it must be late at night. If he didn't rest, he might not have energy tomorrow.

He doesn't like sleeping in.

So he stood up straight and left the tree trunk he was leaning on. The rough friction on his back disappeared, and the young man said to the shepherdess, "Let's talk about this for now. It's time to rest."

Saint Shallia blinked and said, "So, shall we discuss the matter of the philosopher and the witch society later?"

"I don't think we need to discuss this." Linger shook his head: "After all, we have no way to verify it. Besides, it's a very distant thing for us."

According to Alice's notes, the most recent philosopher should be Raman Thaler, who invented the externally suspended carriage in the 18th century, but it was nearly a hundred years ago. Modern people may have a very distant memory of him, even if they often use his invention.

"Maybe it's not far away." Saint Shallia said.

Lingge didn't react for a moment: "What?"

"You know Rochelle very well, Lingge, so who do you think is his biggest enemy?"

"Unity of the Order." This question does not even need to be thought about.

"Then why did he only remind you to be careful of the Witch Society, but didn't mention anything about the alliance of cults?"

Saint Shallia's words were like a bolt of lightning that split the chaos in Ling'er's mind, making him understand something in an instant: "You mean, the power of the Witch Society has infiltrated the Church Alliance, and may even affect some major decisions of the Church, such as-"

For example, what, he paused, without saying, but they both knew it: the Religious Decree.

Only in this way can we explain why Rochelle was still resentful of the Witch Society before her death, and reminded Lingge to be careful of their existence.

Moreover, this practice of secretly influencing, guiding and manipulating history is indeed in line with the style of the Witch Society: from the four philosophers of the Renaissance and the four academic organizations they established, to the three major powers unified by Marshal Napoleon, Joan of Arc, and King Barbarossa the Red Bearded; from the Steam Cult that grew strong after Watt invented the steam engine, to the current alliance of cults that attempts to monopolize the power of faith with the "Religious Decree"... The shadow of the Witch Society has always been floating behind these forces, interfering with the direction of history.

Are the forces infiltrated and controlled by them aware that such an organization that runs through the fog of history exists in their bodies, and even crosses and spreads like blood vessels? Is the relationship between the two sides one-sided deception and exploitation, or cooperation based on interests?
What is the purpose of the Witch Society taking such a huge risk to guide history? And why must it act in the name of the Earth philosopher?
Every thought flashed through the young man's mind, as complicated as an unsolved mystery in a textbook, but in the end, it all ended in a silent sigh. People who are in the night cannot appreciate the depth and grandeur of the night more clearly, especially when facing history.

Ling Ge turned around and said in a low voice: "Thank you for your reminder, I will pay attention to it."

"You're welcome. Actually, I should be the one thanking you." Saint Shallia looked at his back, her emerald eyes sparkling, as clear as the stardust floating under the water: "Thank you for chatting with me, Lingge."

　Give me some meow
　　
　
(End of this chapter)