Chapter 87: Chapter 91: Disordered History
The so-called “public school” of the Plunder City-State was nothing like the real universities in the Upper City District—these schools, subsidized by the City Hall, were not intended to cultivate true scholars. Their greater purpose was to train skilled workers for the factories in the Lower City District and for the Church’s steam engines, while providing basic literacy education to the masses in the process.
Given this premise, one could imagine the level of resources available at the public school in the Cross District.
It was Duncan’s first encounter with Morris, but even at first glance, he could tell that the old man’s scholarly achievements were extraordinary. He was a real expert who could accurately identify an artifact from a pile of junk at first sight and precisely state its date and historical background. An expert like him would be more than sufficient for a university in the Upper City District.
To be matter-of-fact, having his wealth of knowledge in the Cross District’s public school was a sheer waste. Nina had said that hardly any of her classmates cared about what the old gentleman was teaching. For them, staying awake through a class was respect enough for the teacher’s efforts.
Moreover, Mr. Morris had been able to produce a significant sum of money to purchase a dagger from a century ago—someone who carried a checkbook around didn’t seem like an ordinary citizen.
Duncan thought for a while, finding it too abrupt to ask outright “How come you have so much money?” But rephrasing it with the art of language seemed more natural:
“Actually, I’m quite curious. How come a scholar like you stays and teaches at the public school in the Cross District?”
“You’re not the first to ask that,” Morris seemed to have grown accustomed to such questions, and with a faint smile, he carefully packed away his belongings while speaking, “There’s nothing special, really. I’ve just grown old and tired of the overly tense academic atmosphere in the Upper City District universities. Rather than compete with young folks for the already scarce resources, I prefer finding a quieter place to complete my own research… And besides, in my later years, it’s nice to pass on my knowledge to more young people, isn’t it?”
The old man seemed to withhold the full truth, but Duncan noticed the other did not wish to delve too deep and did not press on, merely commenting casually, “However, I heard from Nina that her classmates don’t really value the knowledge you teach… In this Lower City District where life is tough, isn’t searching for the glory of the Ancient Crete Kingdom a bit too far off?”
“Even in the deepest, darkest alleys, as long as a perceptive mind continues to think, ‘history’ is always valuable,” Morris shook his head, “It is because of the history of thousands of years that we have been able to reach today.
“Human life is fleeting. It is the continuation and reverence of history that allows the lifespan of civilization to far exceed that of individuals. This is also key to what distinguishes us from those strange, blind creatures in the deep sea—they have longevity but do not understand the recording of civilization, so they can never eradicate us.
“Of course, Mr. Duncan, you’re not wrong. Here in the Lower City District, few people are willing to listen to my lengthy discourses… But if I have taught even one student, I feel that my years have not been wasted.”
Morris spoke at a steady pace, then seemed to suddenly realize something, showing a mild and apologetic smile, “Sorry, professional habit—I’ve been a bit preachy.”
“Not at all, I think it’s a valuable ‘preach,’” Duncan quickly waved his hand, “In fact, I’d quite enjoy talking with you—you see, you’re a history expert, and I’m an antique dealer. In a way, we’re in the same line of work.”
“In the sense of being a ‘teacher,’ we are also in the same line of work,” Duncan silently added in his mind.
“Honestly, if I were to go by my first impression upon entering this antique shop… I really wouldn’t believe the word ‘colleague’ coming from your mouth,” Morris spread his hands, “But now, I do believe it to some extent—you at least have one genuine item.”
Duncan’s expression was composed as he thought to himself that it was not just one genuine article— the moment the old man wrote the check, Duncan had already mentally gone through all the storerooms on the Homeloss; if he weren’t worried about shocking the market, he might even have planned out the décor for the eighth branch…
Calming his mind, Duncan continued to maintain a casual demeanor with a gentle smile, “I hear from Nina that you have a greater expertise in ancient history, especially the history surrounding the Ancient Crete Kingdom?”
“Strictly speaking, there’s only ‘after’ and no ‘before’,” Maurice immediately corrected, “The Ancient Crete Kingdom marks the beginning of the Deep Sea Era civilization. Before the ancient kingdom was the Great Vanishing event, a breakpoint in civilization, and no one can clearly describe what the world was like before that point—only contradictory terms in the wild stories passed down by the City-States.”
Duncan pondered, “A breakpoint in civilization… almost like a ‘horizon limit’ stretching across the river of history…”
Maurice, hearing this term for the first time, asked, “Horizon limit?”
“It’s a concept. Applied to the ‘Great Vanishing’ event, you can think of it as an invisible wall through time. Everything on the other side of the wall can’t transmit information to this side—whether it’s optical observation or the causal connections of objects, they all get cut off at that boundary. You can never stand on one side of the boundary and know what happened on the other, as if the timeline of all things only suddenly appears from that border.”
“Quite an interesting analogy!” Mr. Maurice’s eyes widened slightly, even glowing faintly with excitement, “A horizon limit straddling history… a wall through time… indeed, very apt! Mr. Duncan, forgive my initial misperception and… undervaluation of you. You’re more professional than I imagined. Do you also frequently study ancient history?”
“No, I don’t know much about ancient history. I just have a flexible way of thinking and sometimes come up with wonderful metaphors,” Duncan modestly replied, knowing he should appear somewhat uninformed right now, “But I am really curious about the Great Vanishing period… You just mentioned that the orthodox academic world does not have any accepted history from before the Great Vanishing, but there are many contradictory records in the ‘unofficial histories’ of the City-States. What are those records like?”
“Just tales from those unofficial histories… Nevertheless, I’ve also studied some,” mused Maurice, speaking slowly, “For instance, there was a record in the Plunder City-State that was a manuscript copy from the year 1069 of the New City-State Era, the original of which is untraceable. That manuscript describes the world before the Great Vanishing as follows:
“The world was a sphere, floating in the vast cosmos, adorned with countless celestial bodies as stars in the night sky. There was one sun in the sky and three moons. Mankind occupied three continents, among which one was perennially icebound. Thus, people built a device called ‘the Dome’ to envelop the continent, creating the ‘Eternal Spring.’ The energy for this Dome was modeled after the sun in the sky, fueled by a component in seawater, nearly everlasting…”
Maurice paused briefly here, seemingly giving Duncan time to think, remember, and organize his thoughts, before continuing:
“Near Cold Harbor, on an island, explorers found a record etched in stone, also describing the world before the Great Vanishing. Scholars exhausted themselves deciphering it, only to be perplexed—
“The stone tablet described that a place called ‘Mother Star’ had been exhausted, and the people were all aboard a colossal vessel known as ‘Abinex.’ This giant ship could traverse the cosmic sea, fueled by dust and gas captured from the void. The ship sailed for forty-seven thousand days and nights and was suddenly caught in ‘a tremendous flash and whirlpool.’ Soon after, the vessel disintegrated and vanished in the vortex, while the survivors lived on from the sea, leaving memories of their home in the caves.
“Of course, these accounts pale in comparison to the strange tales left by the elves of Light Breeze Harbor.
“Elves, with their millennium-long lifespans, should have a more detailed and reliable history than other short-lived races. Yet, for some reason, the history of Light Breeze Harbor is the most fragmented and bizarre of all City-State histories. Many of their scrolls have even been twisted by an unknown force into unreadable ‘lost volumes,’ which had to be sealed and stored due to severe contamination. However, in the nursery rhymes passed down by word of mouth among elves, the world before the Great Vanishing is described thusly:
“The world was a dream, a breath of the great demon Saslouka in his half-awake, half-dreaming state. The elves were born out of this Dreamscape, sustaining Saslouka’s slumber. But one day, the demon suddenly dreamt of a great flood, woke up startled, and consequently, the flood leaked from his dream into the real world. The elves were swept out of their peaceful and harmonious homeland by the flood into the real world… The demon Saslouka disappeared upon awakening, and the elves could never return to that tranquil home, settling down in the Deep Sea Era that followed the flood.”
