To Seek the Ultimate Truth
Translator: CinderTL
In the grand auditorium of Weiss Academy, scholars from various regions gathered, every seat occupied, with many others standing in the aisles and the second-floor corridor.
"Esteemed scholars and seekers of wisdom, welcome to Weiss Academy! Today, we gather here not for power, nor for wealth, but for the purest and noblest pursuit—the light of truth!"
On the podium, a young man spread his arms wide, his deep blue robe shimmering in the candlelight, his ears gently twitching with the fervor of his speech, his eyes sparkling with immense passion.
"Those of you present will illuminate the boundaries of human understanding with the torch of wisdom! Let us set aside regional prejudices and cast off the distinctions of our backgrounds, for here, in the face of truth, we share but one common identity—explorers! May this grand assembly stand as a testament to the light of human reason!"
A wave of enthusiastic applause erupted from the audience.
The young man smiled, gesturing for silence with a gentle downward motion of his hand, and continued his address once the crowd quieted.
In a corner of the second-floor corridor, Coleridge leaned against a stone pillar, enjoying a good view to search for her target.
At that moment, a smirk of derision played at the corners of the witch's mouth.
From the young man's self-introduction, she had learned his identity—Paul Grayman, the lord of Alden.
However, this impassioned speech sounded to her like the chatter of ants—how dare these mortals speak so boldly of "truth"?
Her ice-blue pupils narrowed slightly as she observed the scholars stirred by his words, her fingertips unconsciously forming a few ice crystals in her sleeve.
"How pathetic!" she scoffed inwardly, "This group of blind men, who cannot even sense the power of the elements, dares to think they can grasp the essence of the world with a few formulas."
When Paul Grayman proclaimed "the light of reason," she nearly laughed out loud—true power has always been hidden within ancient spells and bloodlines; the so-called "science" these mortals devote their lives to is nothing but childish scribbles in the face of true arcana.
The shadows cast by the crystal chandelier danced across her snow-white face, as if mocking this ridiculous farce.
"Speaking of which, I suddenly recall a joke."
Paul Grayman on the podium suddenly wore a self-deprecating smile and said loudly, "In a certain farm, there lived a particularly clever turkey. It discovered that every day at 9 AM, the owner fed it and its companions. It didn't jump to conclusions right away but slowly observed, collecting a vast amount of observational evidence about the fact that it was fed at 9 AM: on rainy days and sunny days, hot days and cold days, Wednesdays and Thursdays, in all sorts of situations. Finally, it reached the conclusion: the owner always feeds me at 9 AM."
At this point, the young marquis paused, mischievously winking, "Until the day of reckoning, it believed its conclusion was one of the eternal truths of the universe."
The hall erupted in uproarious laughter.
Even Coleridge found herself amused.
"Hmph, how interesting…"
The witch, who usually wore an icy demeanor, was unaware that her lips had involuntarily curled upward, like a spring trace on a glacial expanse, shallow dimples appearing on her pale cheeks, and the shards of ice in her blue eyes melting away, rippling with a hint of a smile.
Clang! A young astrologer's star chart fell to the ground nearby, making a loud noise.
Coleridge looked over and found him staring blankly at her.
It was then she realized she had "lost her composure," quickly pulling down her hood to cover her face.
"We are the clever chicken in the farm!" Paul continued his address from the podium, "Attempting to seek the truth of the world through shortcuts like induction and summarization, unaware that some things may seem related but do not imply a causal relationship."
His voice suddenly grew loud, "Every time we think we have grasped the laws of truth, the world surprises us with a day of reckoning!"
At this moment, no one in the hall could laugh anymore; the lord's words seemed to take on a heavier meaning.
Some people were already complaining inwardly that his subsequent remarks were somewhat excessive—was it appropriate to speak like this in such an occasion? Had everyone traveled so far just to be doused with cold water?
"But this is the most precious aspect of science!" Paul Grayman forcefully slapped the star chart on the display table, causing several bronze planetary models to sway gently, "We willingly become that turkey, constantly observing and doubting, using today's discoveries to overturn yesterday's conclusions. Perhaps we may never touch the ultimate truth in our lifetime, but with every correction of an error—" he suddenly tossed the copper star chart from the display table into a box at his feet with a clang.
"We move one step closer to the truth!"
As soon as Paul finished speaking, the entire auditorium seemed to ignite. Initially, scattered applause erupted from the back rows, quickly spreading like wildfire throughout the hall.
The scholars rose to their feet in unison, the elderly clapping their aged hands until they turned red, while the young stomped their feet in excitement, the heavy oak floor echoing like thunder. Some even tossed thick tomes into the air, the pages fluttering in the sunlight like white doves.
The applause lasted a full three minutes. Several elderly men removed their glasses to wipe away tears from their eyes, their wrinkled faces revealing a long-lost youthful enthusiasm.
Coleridge on the second-floor corridor also unconsciously tightened her grip on the railing; she hadn't expected this seemingly mundane lord to possess such insight—though she still believed he was overestimating himself.
"Hmm? What's that…"
Coleridge's eyes shifted, catching sight of a figure. Throughout Paul's speech, the witch had not taken her eyes off the audience in her search.
That shape, that movement… it seemed to be Alvey.
"Now, please welcome the distinguished astrologer and astronomer from Weiss Academy—Mr. Terry Cable, to introduce his remarkable discoveries in celestial movements over the past few years!"
Paul's opening address came to an end, and the conference was finally entering a substantive phase.
Amidst the enthusiastic applause, the astrologer Terry Cable from Horns Bay walked nervously onto the podium.
Paul patted his shoulder, giving him an encouraging look before stepping down from the podium.
Coleridge in the second-floor corridor frowned; Paul Grayman was actually approaching the person she suspected to be Alvey.
This was a bit troublesome; as the local lord, Grayman would surely be a focal point of attention. If he got too close to Alvey, it would complicate her plans.
(End of the Chapter)
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