Chapter 22
“But…there’s no difference,” Cecil touched his stomach. “Asan, add another identical lunch, though I don’t know if this guest can eat.”
Asan hesitated, but when Cecil looked at him quietly, the young guard avoided his gaze, responded, and left with his team.
Soon, only the two of them remained in the hall.
“You might be more familiar with this,” Cecil walked to the table and picked up an exquisite small box. “It traveled here from the distant East; I heard it’s very precious, and I only have a little.”
Berlin watched him open the lid and saw that it was tea leaves.
From this sentence, Berlin guessed it was highly likely that he wasn’t in the modern world.
Feeling that the other wouldn’t hurt him again, Berlin relaxed, optimistically thinking that not all ancient countries had the concept of a last meal. He focused on the previous sentence, “What do you mean there’s no difference?”
Cecil smiled again. Berlin noticed that after the guard left, his demeanor returned to its initial relaxed state, even peaceful, “I can’t leave this palace. Trying to lock you up somewhere and having you follow me, what’s the difference?”
“I said I was going to lock you up, but you don’t seem to hold a grudge. You’re a strange person too. Uh, Asan’s expression when he looked at you wasn’t pleasant, right? Don’t worry about him.” Cecil’s mention of Asan didn’t sound like the familiarity and trust Berlin had imagined; it was more annoyance than a capable subordinate.
“I know you’re human…not a monster.”
The last sentence was hard to hear clearly; his gaze fell on an unknown spot, and Berlin didn’t know what he was thinking.
Cecil withdrew his gaze and looked at him, “Be prepared, Asan will report your appearance to the temple. Although they might follow the divine oracle and do nothing…but if you can leave, it’s best to leave as soon as possible.”
Berlin was puzzled, not understanding why this person wanted to kill him one moment and let him leave the next, “Isn’t Asan your, uh, subordinate?”
He thought Asan obeyed Cecil, but Cecil seemed to have heard something funny, propping his chin and laughing, “He doesn’t obey me.”
“Are you really the one prophesied to make me sleep for a thousand years?” Cecil’s eyes held many things Berlin couldn’t understand.
If someone skilled at observation and interpretation were present, they might perceive ‘a quarter hatred, a third numbness, two parts sarcasm, and one part subtle hope’.
But Berlin couldn’t discern so much; he had just met the other, and only felt Cecil wasn’t being straightforward.
Berlin was a simple person; he preferred direct communication and disliked riddles.
So, after realizing he didn’t understand what the other was saying, he frankly admitted, “I don’t understand. Can you just say it directly?”
Cecil: “…”
He had probably never met someone as direct and blunt as Berlin, someone who refused to beat around the bush, and he seemed to appreciate it more than he showed.
Because Berlin found his goodwill had increased, from 0 to 1.
Berlin: So you’re a little happy, but only a little.
“You’re looking at my head again,” Cecil raised his hand, like a toddler learning to control its limbs, gesturing clumsily on top of his head. “This is related to your special ability, right?”
Berlin flatly denied it, since the other had no proof, “No, I just think your hair is a little oily.”
Cecil: “…”Impossible.”
Berlin insisted, his gaze earnest, “Really, when was the last time you washed your hair?”
Cecil actually thought for a moment. He even counted on his fingers, “One, two, three…”
Berlin was genuinely curious, “Three days?”
Cecil paused, shaking his head, “Three years.”
Berlin: “…”
He silently looked at the other’s actually smooth and silky hair, silently stepping back a few steps to put some distance between them.
After Berlin showed clear disgust, Berlin discovered that Cecil’s goodwill had dropped back to 0 from 1.
Berlin was shocked; this was the first time he’d seen goodwill increase so stingily and then decrease, “You’re so vengeful.”
Cecil’s goodwill rose again.
Berlin: “…”
He seems to like hearing me tell the truth, I’m not sure, let’s see.
Footsteps approached; this time, it wasn’t Asan’s guard team, but an attendant carrying food and water.
Berlin noticed that they hadn’t raised their heads since entering, remaining timidly silent, not even speaking a word to Cecil, leaving hurriedly after setting down the food.
He realized his initial understanding was indeed wrong; he spoke directly, “Why are they all so afraid of you? Do you often ‘dispose of’ people?”
Berlin didn’t understand or approve of the other’s actions; he simply didn’t hold grudges, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t hold them accountable.
Cecil picked up a grape, not angry, “I’ve never killed anyone. The priests say the prophecy is absolute, so you can’t be killed by me; I’m just a little unwilling…so I wanted to try. They fear me, not because of what I’ve done, but because I’m a ‘monster’.”
He didn’t seem to mind telling Berlin everything, “The temple worships the God of Light.”
It was a simple story.
The temple was the actual power controlling the empire, this power above the royal family had lasted for hundreds of years, until rumors spread that the God of Light had fallen, and there were no gods in the world.
Or rather, the very idea of gods was a fabricated deception.
This news might have leaked from the royal family, who wanted to regain power, or perhaps a traitor emerged from the temple. In any case, the temple’s position was precarious, desperately needing to prove the existence of the nebulous “gods.”
Fortunately, they unexpectedly found a child with golden eyes in the slums.
He was wearing tattered clothes, his hair unkempt and dirty, matted together; his hair was an ominous black.
This didn’t fit the priests’ definition of a divine child, but he did possess unique golden eyes.
The temple had run out of time; the royal family’s iron hooves, having been suppressed for years, were about to break free.
So, in desperation, they brought him back to the temple, a dirty pauper stepping onto the most sacred land.
He was cleaned, dressed in clean white robes, and everyone said he would receive “God’s baptism.”
From then on, he could partially shed his mortal shell and become God’s vessel on earth.
‘This is the greatest honor, my child,’ a kind-faced priest whispered.
The temple didn’t put all their hope on one person; they found many children, all with characteristics that fit the requirements of a ‘divine descent’.
Cecil survived hunger, and watched countless children scream and die before him.
Not everyone could withstand the power of the gods, even a remnant.
Fortunately and unfortunately, he was the only survivor.
The infusion of divine power was painful; from then on, he was no longer human.
He still remembered the priest’s expression, changing from ecstasy to terror, as if they had seen a terrifying truth.
To protect their existing power and status, the priests turned a blind eye and pretended not to know.
After fulfilling the king’s request for rain, all unfavorable news about the temple disappeared, and even the king gave up his struggle for power, becoming a puppet once more.
No one dared challenge the power of the gods.
Greed made the priests forget their fear; they presented Cecil to the outside world as the divine child, but never allowed him to appear publicly.
They were afraid that seeing Cecil would make people associate him with something they shouldn’t.
Since Cecil was brought to the temple, he had never left the palace.
The priests strictly forbade anyone from contacting him; even speaking to him would result in death. Only later, when Cecil appeared docile and showed no signs of rebellion or trying to escape, were guards like Asan assigned to occasionally speak a few words to him.
Nominally for protection, actually for surveillance.
No one knew the truth better than Cecil.
As the only one with divine power, the temple claimed to the outside world that he was the divine child favored by the God of Light, but he possessed divine power not from the God of Light – but as the incarnation of the God of Darkness on earth.
To be precise, the God of Light and the God of Darkness were originally one.
His eyes were dazzling golden eyes, symbolizing light, yet his hair was as black as ink, not fitting the temple’s proclaimed image of holiness.
The secret that could overturn the temple was that the God of Light and the God of Darkness were of the same origin, their nature not as the temple claimed – the God of Light representing good, and the God of Darkness representing evil. Light and darkness, from their birth, had always been and would always be symbiotic, inseparable.
Within the golden light power, a thick, ominous black mist was hidden.
That’s why the temple never let Cecil appear, keeping him in the palace.
Cecil said this with malice – because he could tell that Berlin had grown up in a carefree environment; he had the pure, clear eyes of someone who had never experienced suffering.
He even anticipated that hearing about the evils of the world might crack Berlin’s mental construct.
Berlin listened quietly and attentively, without interrupting him, and remained silent for a moment after listening.
Cecil watched him intently, wanting to know what he would say.
Berlin looked around with a heavy heart, “You said you couldn’t leave here; how long have you been here?”
He didn’t react in any of the ways Cecil had anticipated.
Cecil didn’t expect him to ask this first, propping his chin and answering, “At least fifteen years.”
Berlin’s eyes widened, “…”
He looked at Cecil with the eyes of someone looking at an orca – many orcas in aquariums were captured from the sea when young and kept in small tanks. Orcas are social animals, highly intelligent, emotional, and prone to loneliness; prolonged loneliness can cause psychological problems. Orcas aren’t inherently aggressive towards humans, but under prolonged abnormal captivity, they can become irritable, aggressive, and even kill people, or headbang themselves to death.
At first, Cecil, in Berlin’s eyes, was an incomprehensible, murderous lunatic; besides his good looks, he had no redeeming qualities.
But now, he felt he understood everything.
Fifteen years, he hadn’t left this place, and almost no one had contact with him.
He could still speak, communicate normally, and hadn’t gone mad. This was really incredible.
Berlin felt a little empathy and sadness, “Your life must have been so hard.”
Even if you constantly feed Berlin tiramisu, dress him in pajamas worth hundreds of millions of dollars and let him live in a mansion worth billions…boredom is still boredom!
Ordinary necessities don’t prevent people from feeling joy, but boredom can drive people mad.
No matter how luxurious it is, no one envies it, there’s nowhere to spend the money; what’s the use, it’s so cold.
Berlin: Unflauntable wealth is worthless.
Berlin’s resentment and discomfort lessened considerably; he looked earnestly at Cecil, “I came here from a dream; I’ll probably leave when I wake up. But I’ll come to see you often; when I get back, I’ll collect many jokes to tell you! So you won’t be…”
He wanted to say “lonely,” but thought it sounded bad, so he changed it to “won’t be lonely.”
He understood. Although he still didn’t approve of his sword-wielding behavior, he did understand somewhat. Even prisoners in prison can organize group activities like tug-of-war. Here, there’s 996 work, and they don’t even let people go out; it’s no wonder people go crazy and become abnormal.
No wonder he looked at Berlin with an incomprehensible expression when he said, “I know you’re not a monster,” it’s because he knew he was the monster in others’ eyes.
No wonder he said, “Few dare to look at me directly like this”…Berlin thought it was because of his high status; it turned out that others avoided him. The people in the temple relied on him, used him, but also feared, rejected, and guarded against him.
He was a convenient tool, a double-edged sword that needed to be cautious of cutting the user, but not a person with free will.
No wonder he didn’t react when he discovered that he would also be injured when Berlin was injured. He probably didn’t care if his life was in danger; living here was meaningless, only exceptionally long.
Having even one beautiful thing would give one a strong will to live, but someone with nothing would probably hardly worry about whether they could see the sun rise tomorrow.
Cecil was indeed a very special person, Berlin thought. He thought the other would be happy to have someone to spend time with, but his goodwill only increased by 1 point.
“Do you know how I was discovered by the temple?”
Cecil didn’t say he believed or disbelieved, only asking Berlin a question.
Berlin shook his head.
Cecil smiled faintly and slowly said, “I hid like a little mouse; the temple people loathed places like the slums, I hid well, and originally no one would have found me.”
“It was the person who gave me a piece of bread when I was about to starve to death who told the temple where I was hiding.”
“For a piece of information, worth a gold coin.”
Berlin froze.
Cecil’s expression was calm, smiling lightly, “He was also the person who said we would support each other, yet for a gold coin, he betrayed me.”
“We met for the first time today, less than half a day, and I tried to kill you upon meeting.”
“Although I didn’t really hurt you, I did do that. Such actions can’t be offset just because no harm was done.”
“I don’t think we can be friends.”
After listening, Berlin didn’t react as Cecil had imagined, showing no hurt or giving up.
He just looked thoughtful and asked, “You’re so powerful, can’t you escape yourself?”
Berlin recalled walking from the courtyard to the hall, “At least there are no guards inside the hall, and the guards are just slightly stronger ordinary people.”
“I don’t need anyone to guard me,” Cecil’s gaze fell on the ring in his hand, “See this ring? I put it on the first day I came here. As I grew older, the ring always stayed on, unable to be removed.”
He smiled with cynical self-mockery, “With this, if I take half a step out of this palace, I’ll turn to dust.”
The priests controlled him with the ring, confining him, allowing him only to work for the temple. That’s why he hated this ring.
Berlin didn’t expect the ring to be a shackle. He thoughtfully looked at the old ring on his hand, similar in style, “So it’s all because of this ring. Do you know how to take it off?”
Cecil, “I can’t take it off by myself.”
His eyes were gloomy, “If cutting off my hand would bring freedom, I would have done it long ago.”
But Berlin shook his head, “There must be a way to take it off, you just don’t know.”
Unexpectedly, Cecil said, “I know, but it’s impossible.”
“It’s not a secret,” Cecil said, “My inherited divine power is incomplete, limited, unable to break free from the ring’s shackles. I need believers – or rather, wholehearted trust and love. Even if only one person, I can obtain enough divine power to break free from the ring’s restraints.”
The more people believed in and loved him, the stronger his power would become.
Berlin hadn’t reacted much when listening to the story, but now he paused, “No one has ever liked you?”
“No,” Cecil said softly, “Not a single one.”
Berlin: “…”
So sad. How could it be like this.
But…Berlin looked at him seriously, “In everything, what you give and what you receive are corresponding. There’s no such thing as trust born out of nothing; you need to give to have the possibility of receiving. Otherwise, what you gain, you will lose.”
He knew a person’s character was related to their upbringing, and the environment and people they encountered would shape and change a person.
So it was a paradox.
Cecil needed to give trust to receive trust. But no one around him wanted to get close to him, and he didn’t trust anyone.
No friends, no family, no joy, never able to open his heart to others, because of a painful betrayal.
That’s why his goodwill towards Berlin was 0.
Since Cecil could never take the initiative to give trust, Berlin thought he could try to approach the other, to help him.
Berlin liked orcas very much.
But he never went to the aquarium because he knew the orcas there were lonely and unhappy.
He would watch documentaries on TV, use orca pictures as his screensaver, but he had never seen one in person.
And now, he felt he had met the first orca of his life.
He decided to cautiously approach the severely injured orca, and when they became friends, he would send it back to the ocean.
Every orca should be free.
Cecil should always be free.
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