Chapter 274
Isaac and Bashul staggered back as the shout echoed throughout the entire secret archive. As the librarian's voice resonated here and there, boxes started to rattle and stir in various places in the archive. Amidst the anxiety that something might burst out of the boxes at any moment, the librarian slammed his staff down onto the floor.
In an instant, a powerful force pressed down on the surroundings, subduing the agitated boxes. Isaac held his breath and watched the librarian.
Bashul asked urgently, "What on earth happened?"
"Someone opened the coffin before us. The person inside succumbed to the White Sand Disease as it progressed and died."
This meant that someone had stolen the "knowledge."
Whether it was the name of the Nameless Chaos was unknown. Regardless, to the librarian, it was a terrible crime of unauthorized intrusion and damage to materials, and to Isaac, it meant that the opportunity to obtain the desired information was lost.
Besides the secret archive of the Censorship Bureau, Isaac knew of no other place where he could learn the name of Chaos, so he was essentially at a dead end.
However, more than that, Isaac felt a looming unease that the Blind Sentinel might arrive as a consequence of this incident.
'I should kill the librarian to buy some time...'
"Sir, isn't it possible that the coffin was already open from the start?"
Suddenly, Bashul spoke to the librarian. The librarian's eyes rolled back as he turned to face him.
"What?"
"The secret archive isn't a place that just anyone can enter and tamper with, right? So, could it be that the storage was faulty from the beginning? I think that if someone had opened the coffin, the person inside might have come out and wandered around..."
Whether it was unauthorized intrusion or poor management, the librarian couldn't avoid responsibility, but he seemed to ponder the matter further. Although he took great care in managing the secret archive, he couldn't claim it was perfect.
Soon, Bashul and the librarian began whispering to each other, speculating about the state of the coffin and the possibility of an intruder.
As the worst-case scenario of the librarian summoning the Blind Sentinel to start an investigation seemed to recede, Isaac breathed a sigh of relief.
'But in the end, I didn't find out the name of the Nameless Chaos. Who on earth could have...'
Isaac grumbled as he looked around, hoping for any other clues. Fortunately, this was the Censorship Bureau's secret archive. There was a good chance of finding other clues.
At that moment, Isaac's eyes fell upon a bookshelf wrapped in sacred texts.
Books seemed more approachable than giant boxes or bizarre, unknowable creatures. Perhaps he might find something useful.
As Isaac examined the books on the shelf, he suddenly stopped at one place.
To be precise, he stopped at the author's name rather than the book's title.
White Owl.
Isaac instinctively reached out but then paused. The librarian had just been enraged about seals being torn off carelessly; he couldn't tamper with another seal right in front of him.
However, the tentacle seemed to have different ideas.
Before Isaac could withdraw his hand, a tentacle crept out of its own accord and grabbed the book. Without any hesitation, the tentacle ripped the seal off the book.
It was easier than tearing tissue paper.
As soon as the seal was torn off, the tentacle bit into the book. It literally split its mouth wide open and tore the book apart with fangs and teeth.
Crunch, crack, snap.
Isaac was horrified as he tried to restrain the tentacle, but for some reason, the tentacle defied Isaac's will and forcibly consumed the book.
It was the first time it had acted so independently since the incident at the monastery during his childhood.
It was as if this action was something absolutely necessary for Isaac.
In the next moment, the title of the book surfaced in Isaac's mind. It wasn't something he saw; rather, the contents of the book being consumed by the tentacle were flowing through his nerves and into his mind. The tentacle was "predating" on the contents of the book.
Whether or not this made any sense, it was happening to Isaac.
The book was titled "Concerning the Threads That Bind Urbanaus."
The author was White Owl.
And the first sentence began with, "I am an unpopular writer."
***
I am an unpopular writer. But is that really my fault? It's just that my tastes and those of the people of this era don't align. People's tastes are ever-changing and unpredictable. Simply riding the same wave as them would undoubtedly put one among the mainstream.
It's been 170 years since I secretly snuck into the Lichtheim Secret Archive to find material and was caught by the Blind Sentinel, subsequently becoming an Archangel.
The first war I participated in as an angel, against Elil, was exhilarating and fun. However, perhaps due to the lack of writer angels, I found it unfortunate that they kept failing to craft coherent narratives for Urbansus. Frankly, in my opinion, if the focus is solely on revising Urbanus, a writer like me might be better suited for the job than an excellent priest or paladin.
For example, there's Luadin.
While I am an unpopular writer, this bastard... I mean, this esteemed Archangel possesses extraordinary talent. I'm convinced it's because he had a lot of time to daydream while working as a Lighthouse Keeper.
He explained the complex and difficult laws of the world so simply that even fools could understand, and through relatable metaphors, he helped people grasp the workings of the universe. Now, the priests know that lightning is not the wrath of the Thunder God but a phenomenon where the positive and negative charges of thunderclouds are drawn to different points.
People have come to 'truly' believe that this is how the world is constructed.
This world grants miracles to those who desire them.
If you wish for this world to be ordered in a 'certain' way, it will be structured that way. The one who seizes hegemony is, in essence, the order of the world.
Under the market order established by bestselling author Luadin, even other gods are busy imitating his style and prose.
Because the people, the believers, and the market demand it.
In other words, this entire world is a miracle of the Codex of Light.
A world that operates under stable, solid, and sturdy "physical laws." A world that guarantees a future that is the same as today. A world where the hegemony of the Age of Light has seized control.
Having tailored and carved the world by hand to create the magnificent world of today, Luadin truly lives up to his reputation as the foremost Archangel of the Codex of Light, its greatest believer, and the first Pope. Meanwhile, unpopular authors like me are busy hiding in our rooms, seething with jealousy.
The world now doesn't understand why there are so many verses praising the beauty of the sixth season and the purple moon.
*(Omitted)*
However, if there is a downside to Luadin, it is that, contrary to his delusions, this work is not written alone. While Luadin might want to claim the largest share, he is merely borrowing the name of the Codex of Light, and thus there are limits. At least nine manuscripts are serialized every day, and only one of them gets entangled with the present to be submitted as a single thread, becoming history.
But does it end just because it becomes history? The world, humans, us, and all things are made of miracles. If the world is made according to what people believe, it also means that people will believe in the way the world is made. People have an inertia of believing that "the world is just like that."
Attempts to alter Urbansus, the collective consciousness of people, are made in the same context.
Three people can create a nonexistent Kaltarsis.
Consider an orphan whose parents drowned in a river. If the people around the child keep insisting that the parents were divided—devoured—by Kaltarsis, the orphan will nurture false memories and emotions, harboring hatred. Since the world is made according to beliefs, altering history brings about physical changes.
Such methods naturally seem attractive to authors coming after him, seeking to overturn the situation. They believe that by transforming Luadin's boring, unimaginative world into one naturally overflowing with s*x, violence, destruction, immortality, and the unknown, they too can become bestselling authors.
Yet, of course, except for that bastard filled with the world's greatest intellect and dignity—Luadin—there are not many who have succeeded in that endeavor.
Indeed, there are even authors more successful than Luadin, whom he cannot surpass.
Praise to Chaos, who enrages Luadin every time with preposterous plots disguised as luck, coincidence, and talent.
*(Omitted)*
Attempting to alter established history is not easy. Many people already believe that history to be "obviously true," making it akin to opposing the collective will of those individuals. It is a challenging endeavor even for angels, and if that history is entangled with interests involving other angels, the situation becomes far more difficult.
Thus, the author has summarized the conditions necessary for altering Urbanus into three criteria.
First, the author.
First, a god-like being capable of observing and moving Urbansus is needed, in other words, an angel.
The time and perspective of angels are multidimensional beyond ordinary human comprehension. Observing Urbansus requires the presence of an angel. To prevent interference from meddlesome angels, there must be at least one angel involved. Angels are always genuinely committed to tripping each other up, even if they share the same faith.
Second, plausibility.
Do not forget that altering history is fundamentally a "remake of an existing story." It is as challenging as claiming that 1+2 was originally 4. For 1+2 to become 4, a storytelling is required that illustrates how 1 and 2 spent a beautiful and happy time together, faced a tragic separation due to the sinister plans of 3, but finally overcame hardships to become 4.
Through this process, the author will sufficiently persuade humans that it is reasonable for 1+2 to be 4. Of course, if by then both the angel and protagonist survive.
Third, the protagonist.
Prepare a being capable of directly interacting with the world (a kind with sufficient intelligence is recommended).
The protagonist is the agent of historical alteration. People are enthusiastic about the birth of heroes, so they can overlook minor errors occurring during the hero's birth (like why this protagonist never goes to the bathroom and is only ever loved by those around them).
For the same reason, angels should assist the protagonist or check other angels but should never become the main character. If an angel becomes the protagonist, people will feel the alteration of history is unjust. This leads to severe plausibility errors, resulting in failure.
Additionally, the protagonist must have a sturdy mind and will capable of resisting the pressure of Urbanus. If they crumble under social pressure before altering history, they will already be incapable of anything at that point.
As a side note, I would add timeliness as an extra factor. The more recent the history, the higher the chance of failure due to many people still having vivid memories. Also, in significant timeframes that angels are paying attention to, the likelihood of interference increases.
In short, opportunities to alter history arise in seemingly trivial and insignificant time periods.
By now, readers may wonder how to prevent historical corrections.
In conclusion, there is no such method.
While one can prevent history from going awry due to angels' interference and obstacles, there is no way to stop the intervention itself. However, methods exist to make altering history more difficult.
First, incorporate multiple historical variables. The more complex the interests among faiths, the harder it becomes to meddle.
Second, clarify the purpose of which direction history will flow. If the narrative suddenly deviates from the intended purpose, readers experience severe confusion.
Third, if you truly do not want it, involve Chaos. The result is unpredictable by anyone. Not even yourself.
I excelled at these, and even the Elil could not stand as my opponent.
Perhaps the best example of the saying, "The pen is mightier than the sword."
*(Omitted)*
Similarly, while the Lighthouse Keeper is an excellent writer among the prophets, his recent actions seem unable to transcend the fundamentals. His attempts to replace the Chaos he detests so much are doomed to fail. People want a changing tomorrow just as much as they want a stable future. They wish for tomorrow to be better, greater, grander. Yet, they do not want it to improve unconditionally.
Honestly, I wonder if these stubborn priests even understand moderation, plausibility, clichés, hardship, recognition, and reward...
***
"Isaac!"
Isaac snapped back to reality at the rough hands shaking him. Looking around, he saw Bashul holding his shoulders and shaking him. Beyond those shoulders, he also saw the librarian staring at him with a stiff gaze.
"What are you doing? Did you tamper with the seal?"
Before Bashul could say anything, the librarian asked.
Isaac realized that this moment was barely different from the instant when he swallowed the book, but his mind was busy organizing the contents of the book. As he hesitated to respond, the librarian spoke coldly.
"Dera Heman, immediately to the secret archive. The purple seal has been destroyed."