Chapter 31 The Holy City of Ancient Paper (4k)
The paper rolls were piled layer by layer on the wicker chair, and the dust on them was carried away by the wind that came out of thin air during the process of taking it. Wicker chairs swayed in the long, narrow room whose door had been closed for many years.
The owner of the wicker chair is walking through the tall endless bookshelves, strolling leisurely in the book collection place that is like a carefully cultivated garden maze, taking down the scrolls that he is interested in from the symmetrical iron shelves, and making them Magically floating behind.
The footsteps of the other person were much lighter and younger. He hurriedly ran through the treasure house of knowledge, immersed in the pile of old papers like children of the same age who were addicted to games.
The scroll in his arms is much more logical than the random selection in the hands of adults. The ancient knowledge has been classified into systematic uses. From these dark wet dreams that no one has mentioned in the past. , he deciphered sublime technology far beyond anything anyone in Olympia could have imagined.
and more puzzles.
The brisk footsteps stopped at a corner, and the rapid breathing gradually sank into calmness, like the rippled water surface returning to a bright mirror that can reflect the sun and the moon.
Then Perturabo slowly and steadily revealed his face from behind the bookshelf. The way he held the scroll looked like a rudimentary philosopher.
The boy waved to Morse: "I discovered a new language."
"Can't you decipher it yourself?" Morse answered standing where he was. Interest in ancient technology is not high. "I taught you some principles of language and semiotics."
The development of science and technology cannot stop the regression of civilization. Apart from accompanying Perturabo, he came to the library that the Lokos royal family had built for generations. In fact, he just wanted to find a few novels to read, no matter how bad they were, epics would be fine.
"Of course I can decipher it myself," said Perturabo, "but I don't understand why they let this knowledge be lost."
"Because the day has passed like the past. "Morse smiled, "Well, the answer is, I don't know."
He turned around and leaned on the iron bookshelf, looking up at the night sky through the small skylight on the roof. Come and see. Those bright stars shine with eternal light, making the night as bright as transparency.
Perturabo looked with him at the very distant things, and saw a particularly large circle in the vast sky. The circle reflects the light of the star, seizes part of the sun's life, and stores it in its own body. When night comes, it becomes the continuation of the sun's life.
"I have read some documents, and some documents say that the sun and stars we see are the same thing. The sun is also a morning star, but the moon is not," Perturabo said.
Morse nodded calmly, "Yeah. What do you think?"
"I think this is better than those gods using their cars to pull the sun around our heads every day. More practical."
"Verified?"
"Not yet." Perturabo shook his head, "I'm deriving the formula."
"Deduce it yourself?" Morse recalled, "Go and look for it in the artist's perspective calculation tool book. Maybe you can find some wisdom of the predecessors more quickly."
Perturabo View Looking at him, he tilted his head. "Knowledge about art is not in this library." There was a little resentment in his tone.
“This is the consequence of telling the tyrant that you want to read science and technology books.” Morse commented.
"I will go and get passes to other libraries tomorrow." Perturabo said unhappily, "You have to help me carry the books on both sides."
"Your dreams are so exciting. Fascinated.”
Perturabo shook his head, adapting well to Morse's rejection. "Then you are always waving around in front of my eyes, but the library pass was exchanged between me and the tyrant. How could you borrow my permission without paying anything."
"You can learn it. Hurry."
"You taught equivalent exchange," Perturabo said proudly, lifting the document in his arms and hugging it tighter. "Or you can directly teach me some of the content I want. The organization of Lokos Library is as bad as rotten fish, and all kinds of information are messed up and mixed together."
"Good children must learn to be self-reliant. "Morse said, "Just like me, breaking into the Lokos Library on my own does not count as borrowing your ID."
"Where did you get all these lies? ”
"Born with it."
"Where could someone like you be born!"
"It's not this Olympia anyway."
"How many others in the world are there? Olympia?”
“There was one before.”
"What now?"
"Now it's in the sky." Morse was about to laugh. This kid was much more interesting than the boring epics in the local library.
"Huh? What kind of puzzle is this?"
"Do you want to see it?"
Perturabo looked up at the skylight, "Where?"
Morse's laughter echoed throughout the empty library. The paper flew out of his hand and floated into the wicker chair where he temporarily placed his belongings.
He stepped forward and shuttled through the corridor of the library. He found the iron steps that rotated upwards. He put his hands on the railing and trotted upward briskly, his black robe undulating behind him like wings.
"Wait, I haven't finished reading the books on the first floor! What's wrong with you?" Perturabo shouted anxiously. He looked around and temporarily piled the scrolls in his hands. He stumbled to the side of the bookshelf and started running with Morse all the way.
Morse had no intention of waiting for Perturabo, he knew the boy could catch up.
Following the spiral staircase, he passed through the second floor and then to the third floor. Then he placed the ladder under the skylight, opened the window and stood on the roof. When he finished all this, Perturabo was struggling to find a balance among the excessively smooth tiles, and glared at him angrily: "What are you doing?"
Morse smiled at him and walked forward quickly. "Under our feet is the knowledge that this planet has preserved for thousands of years." He whispered, causing the murmuring voice to drift back along the airflow. "But so what."
The tiles receded under his feet, and he came to the edge of the library. This magnificent building is located in the center of the entire Lokos, but over a long period of time it has turned into a non-existent behemoth. Everyone puts it in sight but cannot see it.
“The puzzle of Olympia only sleeps in three places, one is in the library, the second is on the moon, and the third is on the other side of the galaxy.” Morse said in the silent night, “Maybe I shouldn’t Tell you this, but I have told you too many things."
"What is it!" Perturabo shouted from behind, "You are obsessed with your stories and riddles every day! You can solve the first puzzle by yourself, but I can remind you of the second puzzle. The rumors of Olympia have already revealed: The last time their shadow fell on this world, slaughter and slavery fell on tens of thousands of people. I saw death and filth. out of the mouth of the false prophet came lightnings, voices, and thunderbolts.”
Morse chanted about the coming disaster like a song, which is better described as a kind of sigh than ruthless.
"The moon of Olympia has another name. When things on the ground are over, I will tell you it - or you will guess it correctly in advance. Do you want to guess now?"
"At least give me a hint!"
"You definitely know the word, kid. Everyone in Olympia knows it. A color, a noun."
Moir Si stopped at the edge of the building. After estimating the distance, he jumped forward, crossed a small distance, and climbed to a nearby spire. Without using any psychic energy, his fingers were accurately and effectively embedded in the gaps between the masonry, moving upward with extremely high efficiency.
He heard Perturabo murmuring some unpleasant words that were not rude, and the smile never left his face.
The moonlight came from the cracks in the dark clouds and shone on the building above him.
He jumped to the top floor and sat on the floor, leaning against the clock in the building.
After a while, Perturabo came up here panting, not fighting was his last sanity. He was about to pull Morse up from the ground, and Morse invited him to sit down.
"The third puzzle is in the ancient night." Morse raised his head and looked out from the bell tower, "You ask me where I come from, child. I can't explain it to you; if you want It would be too poetic and ethereal to say that I came from one of those stars. What’s more, we can’t see the planet buried in the old night from here?”
Then he raised his hand and tapped it lightly in the air, "It's roughly in that direction. That's where I came from."
Perturabo raised his eyebrows in confusion, and it took a lot of effort to climb. His strength allowed him to sit down with his back against the clock.
"There is not only one planet in this world, Olympia, right?" the boy asked.
"Is that enough to be a question?" Morse said. "I thought you remembered that you were not born in Olympia."
"But I don't know where I come from." Perturabo said, and when this topic was brought up, he no longer mentioned things like Greater mission, more majestic territory and other imaginary words, leaving only a pure wandering and confused heart.
The stars looked at him indifferently, and Perturabo thought of the swirling eyes of the stars. Although he no longer saw it, he could almost hear the sharp wails and sounds of death again.
Morse put his arm around his shoulders, and he suddenly stopped having the bloody and painful dream.
“Don’t think about where you came from until your past catches up with you,” Morse said.
Perturabo wonders if Morse's past will lead to him, then realizes that he doesn't actually know Morse's real name.
This sudden frustration crushed his words before they were spoken.
"Then you..." He considered what to say, comparing the possible impact of each question.
There were too many things he wanted to ask, ranging from the book collection issue that he mentioned earlier, which now seemed ridiculous and cute, to whether Morse knew anything about his origins. He jumped from question to question in a hurry, but the words he asked were not in any part of his thinking chain.
He asked: "What is the planet where you were born?"
"I don't know." Morse said, "I have been away for a long time."
"There is nothing like It used to be similar here," his eyes fell on the view of Olympia. "There were hills, there were forests, the sky was shining in the middle of the hills, the moonlight was winding in the valleys, and there were lakes there, and there was the sea. There are lights on the other side of the bay, and in the dark, there are strings of orange lights at the end of the coast. The city-state is there, and the people live in the city-state."
"What about now?"
Morse sneered lowly.
"There is the Holy City, and the city's brightness is like a very precious gem, like jasper, like crystal. The city has high walls with twelve gates, and on the gates are twelve angels. The city walls have ten The two foundations had the names of the twelve apostles of the Lamb. The city was measured with reeds, and its length and width were one hundred and forty-four cubits."
He raised his head, contrary to his usual carelessness. Although he was reciting sacred words, there was a cold hostility on his body.
“The wall is made of jasper.” He continued, “The foundations of the city wall are decorated with precious stones. The first foundation is jasper. The second foundation is sapphire. The third foundation is green agate. The fourth foundation is emerald. The fifth foundation is red. The sixth is the ruby, the eighth is the red jade, the eleventh is the amethyst, and the twelve gates are the pearls. Pure gold, like clear glass.”
Perturabo's eyebrows knitted deeper, and the shadow cast on his face became particularly intense.
"Is there really such a city?" he asked. "But how should the people there live? Where should their cables be installed and where their water channels should be connected? Will the jasper walls not collapse? How can the glass streets bear the load? Can the stress of the structure be handled by gemstones?" How to lay such flashy bricks and tiles? How does their transportation work, how is the community space distributed, where is the sewage discharged, where does the clean water come from, where are the roads placed, how are goods circulated, and how do fires and floods occur? Can we prevent wind and snow..."
The more he talked, the more he couldn't stop, until he caught a glimpse of Morse's strange expression of suppressing a smile in surprise, which made him instantly struck down by shame. .
"You are kidding me again, Morse." Perturabo said, feeling a little hot on his face, "There is no such city in the world, why are you talking nonsense to me."< br>
"Someone is going to lie to the people of this world, saying that there is such a city that will come after the end and death." Morse lightly flicked the boy's face with the back of his index finger, and he was met with a violent response. Slap away. "When the tabernacle of God falls on earth, everything will be made new."
"Who said it?"
"Probably the inspired scriptures."
"Did your god raise an army of construction workers to build the city?" Perturabo explain.
"What about me! I look like a believer!" Morse laughed and cursed, stretched out his hand, and the night wind wrapped around his fingertips.
He thought quietly for a while, and suddenly said thoughtfully, "It's about to dawn."
Perturabo calculated the time in his mind, and according to Olympia's rhythm of time and the movement of the stars, he quickly came to the conclusion: "There are still thirty-eight minutes."
Morse relaxed posture , pinch the stopwatch in your heart according to the beat of your pulse. "There's still time to enjoy the night breeze, child."
Some birds in the forest are about to wake up. They emerge from the scene of sleeping city-states and vast mountains and forests, and rotate in the gradually brightening gray-black sky. Lifting, the feathers flashed with colorful light like dream shadows.
He was extremely bored and knocked the bell behind him with his knuckles. A small sound of metal and stone swirled around and went to the world under the bell tower. After just one knock, he stopped.
(End of this chapter)