Chương 427: The Riddle of the Scribe

I sat across from the ancient Patriarch of Opal, my clay tea cup resting in my palm. Aurelius leaned back on his stool, his bright eyes twinkling with ancient, mischievous amusement as he waited for my single question. But I didn't jump into asking immediately. My analytical mind, operating with the hyper-accelerated cognitive speed of a Tier 9 Ascendant, calculated the variables. A single question was a narrow needle to thread.

If I phrased it poorly, or if I asked about a topic he didn't possess deep technical knowledge of, I would waste my only opportunity to extract value from a being who had survived eons of galactic history.

"Before I ask my question, I want to establish a ground rule," I said, setting my tea cup down with a soft click.

"What happens if I ask a question you don't know the answer to?" Aurelius let out a thunderous laugh, slapping his knee in delight.

"Hahaha! Smart kid! Trying to build contingencies into my own deal! Fine, if you ask something I genuinely don't know, I'll let you ask another one. Fair enough?"

"Fair enough," I nodded. I took a breath, deciding to test his technical knowledge regarding high-tier systemic architecture.

"My question is this: How can I help my Chronicle — an ancient spectral elemental bound to my soul gate — access more of the uncompiled Akashic records and permanently remove the System boundaries and restrictions placed upon his memory-lattice?" Aurelius blinked. The boisterous, wise smirk on his face vanished, replaced by a look of utter, complete obliviousness. He scratched his silver hair, leaning forward and looking at me as if I had suddenly started speaking in backward ancient runes.

"What?" Aurelius shrugged, throwing his hands up.

"How should I know? I'm an old martial brute who smashes star-cores, not a library clerk! Akashic records? System restrictions on chronicles? I don't deal with that nerdy stuff, kid!" Beside me, Syntheia slowly raised her hand and facepalmed, letting out a long, exhausted sigh. I stared at the Patriarch for three full seconds, my eyes unblinking.

I had just realized something vital: Aurelius had to be an absolute monster in raw combat and domain authority, but when it came to deep System architecture, ancient metadata, or academic mechanics, he was probably completely useless. Asking him complex technical questions was like asking a sledgehammer to solve a calculus equation. It was essentially like talking to Rexxar, so I had to rethink my line of thinking. Well, that wasted zero effort, I thought, recalibrating my strategy.

If he doesn't have the answers himself, I need him to point me to the entity who does.

"Since you don't know the answer, I get another question," I reminded him smoothly.

"Yeah, yeah, you got me," Aurelius grumbled, pouring himself another cup of tea.

"Ask your real question." I looked him dead in the eye.

"How can I meet with Thoth, the Scribe of the Seventh Key, again? On my own terms, without waiting for him to send a message through a third party?" Aurelius froze. Slowly, a wide, terrifying grin spread across his face, displaying a mouthful of gleaming, crystalline teeth that glittered like polished quartz. His eyes flared with a deep, approving light.

"Aha!" Aurelius beamed, pointing a finger at me.

"Now that is a clever question, Eren Kai! Old Thoth is going to be furious with me if he finds out I told you... but a man of his word is a man of his word." He leaned forward across the tea table, his voice dropping into a conspiratorial, hushed whisper.

"To see Thoth," Aurelius whispered, his tone suddenly ringing with an ancient, resonant gravity, "you must first see yourself seeing Thoth. Hold that image in the center of your soul-gate, and the rest will come to you." I waited for him to elaborate, but he simply sat back, taking a slow sip of his tea with a satisfied smirk. I frowned, my optical arrays shifting as I processed the words.

"To see him, I must see myself seeing him? That's it? That sounds like a vague, poetic riddle, not a set of spatial coordinates."

"It's not a riddle, kid! It's the exact mechanism!" Aurelius laughed boisterously, waving his hand dismissively.

"Thoth doesn't live on a planet, and he doesn't sit in a physical citadel. He exists inside the unregistered resonance of causality. If you don't know how to perceive your own future through your perception, you'll never find his doorstep! Now, enough boring talk! Let's do something actually exciting!" Before I could ask for further clarification, Aurelius flicked his wrist. The spatial coordinates of the room collapsed. There was no kinetic flash, no dimensional tear, and no delay from my temporal slide.

In a fraction of a millisecond, the ancient Patriarch translated our entire group — myself, Crys, Syntheia, Anna, Rexxar, Nyx, and his own tea table — straight into the High Council Hall of the House of Opal. If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it's taken without permission from the author. Report it. The abrupt shift landed us directly on a raised marble dais overlooking a grand, vaulted amphitheater.

The hall was filled with hundreds of high-tier delegates, noble lords, guildmasters, and military commanders of the House of Opal, all mid-sentence in a chaotic, anxious debate regarding the siege's aftermath. The moment Aurelius appeared on the dais, the entire amphitheater fell dead silent. In unison, hundreds of powerful, high-tier cultivators immediately dropped to their knees, bowing their heads to the floor in absolute, profound reverence.

"Patriarch! You have returned!" The moment he faced his people, Aurelius' demeanor underwent a shocking, instantaneous transformation. The eccentric, tea-drinking old man vanished completely. Aurelius stood straight, his posture imposing and regal, radiating the unyielding, ancient authority of an Arch-House founder who had ruled for eons. His voice, when he spoke, was cold, professional, and deeply command-oriented.

"Rise," Aurelius commanded, his voice echoing across the vast hall. For the next twenty minutes, I watched a masterclass in high-tier planetary administration. Aurelius issued rapid, precise directives regarding war casualties, civilian medical aid, and regional defense contingencies. He ordered generous compensation packages sent to the families of fallen guards, commanded the immediate adoption and housing of orphans from the outer districts, and dispatched construction fleets to repair the damaged outer shields.

He was efficient, ruthless in his resource allocation, and deeply protective of his people — a true Leader whom they clearly willingly followed. And then, without any warning, he flipped right back into his jovial joking mode. Aurelius gestured grandly toward me, slapping a heavy hand onto my shoulder.

"And now, my esteemed council! Allow me to introduce Eren Kai — the prophesied Prophet who has come to save us all from the High Courts!" The entire council of noble delegates looked up at me in absolute, wide-eyed bewilderment, their expressions quickly shifting from shock into awe and deep, spiritual adoration. I stood there, my dark cloak draped over my armor, internally facepalming so hard my soul gate shivered. Prophesied prophet? Really? Aurelius didn't care about my internal cringe.

He looked down at the head of the Artisans' Guild.

"Master Corvus! I am assigning thirty of our top master-craftsmen, spatial artificers, and rune-weavers to accompany Lord Kai back to Ferra. They will assist in upgrading their planetary defenses, forging magitech relays, and improving their armor technology." Master Corvus, an ancient Crystalline artisan clad in silver robes, bowed deeply.

"It shall be done, Patriarch. They will sign the standard systemic loyalty contracts immediately."

"Hold on," I interrupted, stepping forward.

"I don't want standard System contracts. My faction doesn't trust the Prime System's backdoors. I will weave my own custom soul-tethers for any craftsmen joining our city." The entire council hall gasped, making me realize that it may not have been a common practice. Suggesting a custom, non-systemic soul-bind in front of an ancient Arch-House Patriarch must have been considered a direct insult to his authority. Aurelius turned his head slowly, looking at me with a sudden, dark aggression.

His eyes turned into cold abysses of starless black, his voice dropping into a dangerous rumble.

"What? Are you saying you don't trust my word, kid?" The hall went dead quiet. Syntheia tensed, and Crys looked at me with anxious eyes. I stared back at Aurelius, completely unbothered by his sudden intimidation tactic. I gave him a flat, utterly honest answer.

"Honestly? No," I said plainly.

"I don't trust anyone I haven't personally vetted, especially when it comes to the security of my people." For two agonizing seconds, the air in the hall remained frozen. And then, Aurelius broke into a roaring, knee-slapping laugh that shattered the tension into pieces.

"BWAHAHAHA! Excellent! Magnificent answer! Don't trust anyone, kid! Not even your closest allies! A real leader trusts only his own authority!" He turned back to Master Corvus, waving a hand.

"Let him use his own soul-binds! Go pack your gear, boys!" As the council meeting concluded and the delegates dispersed to execute their orders, we walked back toward the terrace.

"What will you do now, Grandfather?" Crys asked, looking at Aurelius.

"Will you stay in Crystal City to oversee the repairs?" Aurelius smirked, a dangerous, hungry glint flashing in his eyes.

"Stay here? Absolutely not, little Crys! I've been cultivating in deep stasis for three millennia! My core is stable, my domain is hungry, and I have three thousand years of pent-up stress I need to release." He adjusted his linen robes, a dark, predatory smile spreading across his face.

"The High Courts sent four Tier 10s to my front door. It would be rude of me not to return the favor by personally flattening a few of their outer garrisons in the neighboring sector." Before any of us could respond, Aurelius vanished into thin air, leaving only a faint ripple in the local stasis. Syntheia shook her head, a faint, fond smile touching her lips.

"He still hasn't changed in thousands of years. I'm starting to think he really never will…I will stay here in Crystal City to manage the House's recovery and coordinate our orbital fleets." She looked at me, offering a respectful nod.

"Take the master craftsmen back to Ferra through the Spire, Eren. My father's aggressive moves will draw the High Courts' primary attention away from Sector Z-99 for a time. Use this window to strengthen your world."

"We will," I agreed. An hour later, Crys, Anna, Rexxar, Nyx, and I stepped back through the Spire gate into the war-room of Bastion, accompanied by thirty of House Opal's finest artisans. Jeeves was waiting for us on the platform, bowing impeccably as the craftsmen were escorted toward Leoric's foundries. As the team dispersed to handle the integration of our new allies, I walked out onto the high balcony of the Sanctum, leaning against the basalt railing as the warm afternoon wind swept across Bastion.

My mind didn't dwell on the victory at Crystal City, nor on the dead Tier 10 Warlords. Instead, I repeated the Patriarch's cryptic words over and over in my head, analyzing every single variable. To see Thoth, you must first see yourself seeing Thoth. I closed my eyes, letting my optical arrays dim as I reached deep into my soul gate, focusing on my [Micro-Glimpse] and my temporal slide abilities.

If Thoth held the answers to the universal Akashic records and the origin of my soul-scars, finding him was my highest tactical priority.

"I'm going to figure out your riddle, old man," I whispered into the quiet sky, my star-cores spinning in a deep, hyper-focused state of meditation.