Steam Age: I Fight Against Divine Authority with Otherworldly Tales

Chapter 64 The Two Ends of the Mist

When Carl heard Professor De Went's name, he was also stunned. He stared wide-eyed in disbelief, opened his mouth, but could not utter a word.

"Loren Town isn't big, and some of you may have had dealings with him." Corrigan glanced around and then swept his gaze across the crowd again. "But I'm warning you, he's a wanted criminal now. Don't get involved with him again; it won't do you any harm."

He handed the portrait to Lawrence, adding at the end, "Of course, if you have any clues, you can provide them to the church, and the church will give a corresponding reward."

For the rest of the time, Suren couldn't hear anything. He just stood there, his eyes vacant, still thinking about the professor being wanted.

"Sulen!"

Carl's shouts brought Suren back to reality. The gathering had ended, the "Deathbirds" and the "Hounds" had all left, and Corrigan was talking to Lawrence. Only a few scattered people remained in the hall.

Suren took a deep breath and casually sat down on the bench. Karl sat next to Suren, his eyes filled with worry, and even his lips were a little pale.

"Suren, what do you think will happen to Professor Derwent after he's caught?" he said haltingly, his voice trembling slightly. "Why would the professor be researching electricity and those manuscripts in the first place?"

"Scholars always have a thirst for knowledge." Suren shook his head slightly. He recalled the records of punishments for so-called heretical scholars published by the church and said with some difficulty, "The church usually dealt with these heretical scholars by... burning them at the stake."

It's hard to imagine that, even with the advancement of technology to the steam age, the ancient and cruel punishment of burning at the stake still exists.

"You must be feeling terrible, right?"

A rough voice sounded in front of Suren. Suren looked up and met Corrigan's one eye, which even carried a hint of sympathy.

Corrigan plopped down between the two, putting one arm around Suren's shoulder and the other around Karl's shoulder, pulling them closer to his side.

"That's how the church works. No matter if you were a professor, a nobleman, or even a member of the church, if you break the taboo," he paused, then enunciated the remaining words slowly and deliberately, "you will face the cruelest punishment."

Hearing Corrigan's words, Suren recalled the first time she met him—in that dimly lit basement, Corrigan spoke of doctrine with a hint of hatred in his voice.

As if realizing something, Suren glanced at Corrigan and voiced her guess: "Captain Corrigan, have you had a similar experience?"

Corrigan shook his head, released his arms from the two of them, and took out the old pipe from his pocket. He didn't light it, but just stroked it quietly, as if he were touching some rare treasure.

"Seventeen years ago, I met a girl. She was gentle and kind, and often helped others." Corrigan spoke slowly, his voice slightly hoarse. "At that time, I had just joined the 'Deathbird Brotherhood,' and like everyone else, I dreamed of becoming a great man and of marrying her one day."

Suren remained silent, and even the usually boisterous Karl was unusually quiet, because they both realized what had happened next.

"Later, she was burned at the stake in public for helping a 'filthy man' escape." Corrigan exhaled, cracking his pipe as if trying to vent his frustration. "At the time, I didn't even have the courage to see her one last time."

Suren opened her mouth, unsure of what to say. At that moment, Corrigan looked up at Suren and Karl, and smiled. Suren vaguely sensed a bitterness in that smile.

"Over the years, I've come to terms with it. After all, there's not much we little people can do." Corrigan snapped his fingers in front of his pipe, and a flame appeared out of thin air, igniting the tobacco. He took a deep drag. "I'm telling you this just so you can all see things more clearly."

"I'm also planning to resign next month. I've saved up a lot of money over the years, and it's time to enjoy myself." He patted Karl and Suren on the shoulder, stood up, exhaled a smoke ring, and slowly walked upstairs.

As Suren watched Corrigan's retreating figure, she felt there was something inexplicable or unclear in his words.

Suren turned to look at Karl, who was still in a daze.

"It's alright, the professor might have already left, and Priest Leonard might not be able to find him." Suren patted Karl on the shoulder.

At this moment, a strange impulse arose in Suren's heart, a feeling of resentment towards fate and an urge to save the professor.

"That's not right." Suren frowned. Her relationship with the professor wasn't that good yet, so it was strange for her to have this kind of emotion.

After thinking for a moment, he thought of a possibility—"Ellie's Tears," and this feeling of resentment was exactly the same as the one he felt in the room last time.

Combining the conditions under which the "Aksha Relics" were formed and the rumors mentioned by Professor Derwent, Suren confirmed one thing: the negative effect of the "Aksha Relics" was a subtle emotional influence.

How to solve this problem? Suren had no clue at the moment. Perhaps upgrading the Aksha artifact would solve the problem. Of course, this was just Suren's guess.

At that moment, Carl suddenly stood up and said in a low voice, "I'm going to the lab. I'll treat you to dinner tonight. There are some things I can't figure out and I want to ask you about them."

After saying that, he walked straight towards the stairs, and Suren shook her head as she watched his retreating figure.

In the evening, Suren and Carl had already eaten, and the two walked side by side along the St. Wood River.

Suren was looking at her shadow, pondering how to comfort Karl, when she suddenly heard Karl speak: "Suren, do you remember Marian?"

Upon hearing Karl's abrupt question, Suren paused for a moment, tilting his head in thought, and then remembered the owner of the name.

"Of course I remember, she was a caregiver at the orphanage." Suren paused, then sighed. "Unfortunately, she passed away from lung disease in her early thirties due to inhaling too much smog."

"I was at her bedside when Marian passed away." Carl's voice was low. He exhaled as if to release the frustration in his heart. "From that moment on, I vowed to become a big shot in the church. I always felt that as long as I became a big shot, I could improve the environment of the town, let everyone live a good life, and then all the problems could be solved."

"Over the years, I've had unwavering faith in the church's doctrines. In the past, seeing someone like Professor Derwent wanted for researching forbidden subjects would have seemed perfectly reasonable." He paused, looking up at the sky. "But now, after gaining a deeper understanding of so much complex knowledge, I sometimes can't help but wonder, these subjects seem so wonderful, they clearly carry the hope of changing lives, so why can't we study them?"

He withdrew his gaze and looked at Suren, his eyes filled with confusion and bewilderment. He asked softly, "Did we teach the wrong things, or is this knowledge truly dangerous?"

Suren knew that those who practiced "equivalent exchange" had extremely strong learning abilities in specific subjects due to the enhancement of their "source knowledge".

In nearly a month, Karl had acquired a knowledge base close to that of a normal scholar, which was why he was confused.

"Karl, do you think the saints in the church are inferior to you? Don't they understand this principle?"

After saying this, Suren took two steps towards the riverbank, stood before the river, and faced Karl. He stretched out his arms and pointed his index fingers in two directions.

Karl paused, then looked down at Suren's arm.

To the left is the slum, shrouded in a thick layer of smog, obscuring all details.

To the right is the church district, where the air is so clean it's as if it's been washed, and you can even see the outlines of the buildings.

The scenes on the left and right sides are like the two ends of an oil painting.

"This is the answer." Suren's voice drifted on the wind, somewhat ethereal.