Lu Yuan didn't know when he had fallen asleep.
He only saw a vast, boundless river before him.
The water spread out to both sides, reaching the very edge of his vision, until he could no longer distinguish where the river ended and the sky began.
The color of the water was surreal.
It was a mixture of many colors, churning together and flowing sluggishly.
Some areas shimmered with dark gold, others held a deep, sunken blue, and occasionally a thread of extremely faint white would surface, only to be quickly swallowed by the other colors.
The river flowed continuously, but in total silence.
Lu Yuan stood upon the surface of the water.
There was no sensation beneath his feet, nor any sign of him sinking; he simply remained suspended there.
He looked down into the water.
Something was moving beneath the surface.
It was text.
Densely packed, it surged up from the depths and then sank back down, like a flock of migratory birds sweeping over a lake too deep to fathom.
Every character glowed, but the light was swallowed before it could reach the surface.
Lu Yuan wanted to see what those words said.
But he couldn't see them clearly at all.
They were too far away and swam too fast.
Suddenly, a ripple stirred the river's surface.
It wasn't wind.
Something was growing in the distance.
Lu Yuan looked up.
It was a tree.
Growing from the very center of the river, its trunk pierced the water's surface and extended straight upward, its girth so immense that his vision couldn't contain its outline.
The bark was a deep greyish-green, its surface crawling with vein-like patterns where the same colors as the river water flowed.
The canopy unfolded at an even greater height.
So high that Lu Yuan couldn't see the top even when he craned his neck.
Branches spread out in all directions, each splitting into finer and finer twigs, like a net cast down from the heavens, completely obscuring everything above.
Only the points of light leaking through the leaves sprinkled onto the river like stars.
The tree was still growing.
The tip of every branch slowly extended outward, new leaves sprouting from the ends, unfurling, glowing for a moment, and then merging into the color of the canopy.
The river water was flowing toward the tree.
All the colors converged toward the main trunk, seeping in from the roots and traveling up along the patterns in the bark, all the way into the invisible depths of the canopy.
The river was using its own water to nourish it.
Lu Yuan stood on the water, staring at that tree.
It was too massive.
It blotted out the sky and sun, an endless expanse.
Slowly, his vision began to darken.
Starting from the edges, the colors faded layer by layer. The luster of the river vanished, the tree's silhouette blurred, and the points of light from the canopy flickered out one by one.
Darkness rushed in from all sides.
Lu Yuan looked down at his feet; the river surface was no longer visible.
Everything was gone.
Lu Yuan opened his eyes.
It was the ceiling of the alchemy workshop.
A sliver of greyish-white dawn light filtered through the gap in the curtains; it was already the early hours of the morning.
Lu Yuan stared at the ceiling for a few seconds.
Some images were scattering in his mind, slipping through his fingers.
Lu Yuan sat up and rubbed his temples.
【Sanity: +12... 80/120】
Sleep had restored some of his Sanity.
But Lu Yuan always felt as though he had forgotten something.
Evening.
Lu Yuan stood on the first floor of the alchemy workshop, holding the set of greyish-white Church inner robes.
They were folded neatly. The fabric was lighter than the Nightwatchers' coats and softer, with the texture of cotton and linen.
A circle of extremely fine silver thread was sewn into the collar and cuffs, and a small silver plate hung at the waist, engraved with a simple Angel pattern—likely the uniform identifier for Church robes.
Lu Yuan took off his deep grey Nightwatchers coat, folded it on the table, and changed into the Church inner robes.
The robe was very loose, reaching down to his ankles, with sleeves hanging past his wrists.
Once the hood was pulled up, most of his face was hidden in shadow; only his chin was visible when he lowered his head.
Lu Yuan turned once in front of the mirror.
It could completely conceal his form.
He picked up his revolver from the table and tucked it, along with the holster, into the inside of the robe. The Church inner robes had a belt at the waist, and the holster clipped between the belt and the fabric, making it invisible from the outside.
After all, given his current methods, anything he might encounter in the Polymath Tower would be less effective than a silver-plated revolver.
He carried twenty silver-plated bullets, and a bottle of perfect Sanity potion was pressed into his left pocket.
This was Lu Yuan's last bottle in stock.
However, with continuous consumption, the effects would continue to diminish; it was hard to say how much it would actually restore.
After packing everything, Lu Yuan checked the crystal once more. Confirming there were still no issues, he took off the robes and packed them into a small bag.
Just as Lu Yuan was about to head out, footsteps came from the hallway.
Bo Er pushed the door open, holding a set of documents. His gaze swept over the small bag in Lu Yuan's hand and paused.
“Something to do tonight?”
“Yeah, I'll be back late.”
Bo Er didn't press further.
“These are the latest defensive deployment records. Take a look when you have time.”
“Got it.”
Bo Er set the documents down and turned to leave.
Lu Yuan waited a while longer before walking out of the alchemy workshop. The sky outside was sinking into darkness.
The sun had already dropped behind the city walls, its final afterglow staining the horizon a dark red.
The electric lamps on both sides of the street were lit, but the repair work hadn't covered all areas yet. Some lamp posts were tilted, their covers shattered, leaving only exposed sockets.
But it was already much better than a few days ago.
By the side of the road lay tools left by craftsmen and half-laid copper plates. They had just finished work for the day, and the dry, acrid smell lingering in the air hadn't yet dissipated.
After walking through a few streets, Lu Yuan confirmed no one was tailing him.
He turned into a small, abandoned building and put on the white robes.
He pulled up the hood and continued forward as if nothing were out of the ordinary.
As Lu Yuan continued, the buildings became denser, and the degree of damage lightened considerably.
By now, he had crossed the boundary of the North Ward and entered the inner city.
The streetlights here were brighter and more frequent. Pedestrians began to appear—craftsmen finishing their shifts, housewives carrying vegetable baskets, and two young men in apprentice robes walking out of a building, whispering to each other.
No one gave Lu Yuan a second glance.
Since the Holy Church had set up a temporary outpost east of the Old Council Square, the frequency of greyish-white robes appearing in this area had increased significantly.
A person in Church robes walking through the inner city streets was nothing unusual.
Lu Yuan pulled his hood forward slightly and quickened his pace.
The inner city was no longer under the strict martial law it once was. Although there were still checkpoints at the inner city gates, they were no longer checking the identities of those passing through.
Following his map, he arrived at the agreed-upon Old Council Square.
The bluestone-paved ground stretched out in all directions, with a bronze commemorative pillar standing in the center. Its surface was covered in bas-reliefs, though only their vague outlines could be seen in the twilight.
An area on the east side of the square was partitioned off by temporary fencing. That was the site of the previous collapse; it had since been backfilled and paved with new copper plates, with copper signs reading "No Entry" hanging on the fence.
The Church's temporary cordons had mostly been removed, with only two or three low-level monks in greyish-white robes standing guard at a few entrances.
Under a streetlight outside the east gate stood four people.
All wore the same Church inner robes as Lu Yuan, their hoods pulled low and hands tucked into their sleeves, standing in silence.
Lu Yuan walked over.
The person closest to him looked up slightly.
It was Agnes.
The shadow of the hood covered most of her face, but Lu Yuan recognized her eyes.
Pale gold, with a hint of coldness.
Agnes didn't offer a greeting; she simply stepped aside slightly to make room.
Lu Yuan stepped into the line.
Five people, standing quietly under the streetlight.
After waiting for some time, the sound of a bell drifted from the distance.
Heavy and long.
Spreading from the high clock tower over the entire city.
The first chime.
Before the resonance of the bell could fade, Agnes stepped forward and spoke.
Her voice was low and her pace measured, but every word was sharp.
“The route remains unchanged. Main tower, then one, two, three, four, in order. Three to four purification nodes per tower, two to three minutes per node. Total time: one and a half hours.”
Her gaze swept across the faces of the sisters before finally landing on Lu Yuan, without lingering.
“The top floor of the third tower has a heavy residue at the node; it needs an extra person to handle it alone.”
“Time: fifteen to twenty minutes. From the moment I leave until I return, not a minute more or less.”
Her voice paused.
“If something goes wrong—”
Agnes withdrew her right hand from her sleeve and lightly pressed the plate at her waist.
“You will feel it. If you do, drop everything you're doing and return the way you came.”
Lu Yuan nodded slightly.
So the plate at the waist had that function as well.
“One more thing,” Agnes added.
“I'm not sure what state the area above the third tower's top floor is in. Since the tower was sealed, the Church's maintenance routes have been shortened. Some nodes that were accessible before can no longer be reached.”
She didn't explain why they couldn't be reached.
But the meaning was clear: there were places in the Polymath Tower that even the Holy Church could no longer enter, so they had to be careful.
The second chime of the bell rang.
“Move.”
Agnes turned, and the five followed.
The group headed north along the alleyways on the east side of the square, their greyish-white robes swaying gently in the twilight.
No one spoke along the way.
The silhouette of the Polymath Tower gradually emerged in the night.
The white marble tower body, which cast a soft luster during the day, had lost the sunlight and turned a pale, cold color, like moonlight solidified into stone.
Five towers stood at varying heights. The main tower was in the center, the tallest, with the other four surrounding it, interconnected by corridors suspended in mid-air. From a distance, it looked like a giant spiderweb.
The alchemical runes covering the tower bodies emitted an extremely faint, eerie blue glow at night, like a layer of dying phosphorus fire clinging to the stone walls.
Lu Yuan remembered that these runes had been much brighter the last time he visited.
Two people stood at the entrance.
They wore the deep blue faculty robes of the Polymath Tower, with a bronze book scroll badge pinned to their chests. They weren't old, perhaps in their early thirties, with stiff, formal expressions.
The Polymath Tower escorts.
One of them stepped forward, his gaze scanning the group.
“Church maintenance group?”
“Yes,” Agnes’s voice was steady, carrying the flat detachment typical of someone performing sacred duties.
“Routine purification, five people.”
“Has the list been verified?”
“Confirmed yesterday.”
The escort looked at a thin booklet in his hand, then glanced at the team again.
Five people, all in identical greyish-white inner robes, hoods down, hands in sleeves.
His gaze lingered on Lu Yuan for about a second.
Then he looked away.
“Follow me. Do not deviate from the route, do not touch the wall inscriptions, and do not enter marked areas.”
Having said that, he turned and pushed open the doors to the Polymath Tower.
The moment they stepped inside, the atmosphere shifted.
There was a faint aura permeating the air, wrapping around the skin, subtle yet carrying a perceptible pressure.
They passed through the high archway and entered the interior of the Polymath Tower.
The corridors remained spacious, lined with rows of blue-hued glass windows, but with no sunlight to refract, the glass only reflected the silhouettes of the people in the hallway.
The portraits of past scholars hanging on both sides were still there, their frames covered in a thin layer of dust. The sensation of being watched by the figures in the paintings, however, had not changed.
‘It seems the Polymath Tower is severely shorthanded...’
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