Ryan fell silent for a moment.
He didn't answer immediately.
Chris didn't rush him, either. He simply stood by the pier, slowly puffing on his pipe, the greyish-white smoke quickly merging into the perpetual thick fog of Moth Port.
A few seconds passed.
Only then did Ryan speak.
“I want knowledge.”
Chris couldn't help but chuckle.
“Figures.”
“Nine out of ten people of the Lantern Principle ask for this first.”
As he spoke, he turned and walked toward an unremarkable little building near the harbor.
Pushing open the wooden door, the space inside shifted instantly, revealing a modest study.
Bookshelves lined the walls, stretching all the way to the ceiling, packed with old, leather-bound volumes.
The air was thick with the distinct scent of paper, ink, and aged parchment.
Chris didn't even bother searching carefully.
He simply pulled a thin booklet from a shelf at random and tossed it to Ryan.
“Here.”
Ryan caught it.
There was no title on the cover.
Only a faint, embossed emblem of a lantern was pressed into it.
He flipped open the first page.
It was densely filled with unfamiliar script.
But strangely enough, as his eyes fell upon them, the words automatically shifted into a language he could understand.
The more Ryan read, the brighter his eyes shone.
What was recorded within was neither rituals nor spells.
Instead, it detailed the most fundamental theories of the Lantern Principle.
How to observe traces.
How to understand the Glory.
How to avoid mental pollution.
And the most basic differences between various Lantern aspects.
Leaning against a bookshelf, Chris smiled and said,
“Take your time.”
“Knowledge is something no one else can digest for you.”
“But let me warn you first.”
He raised a finger.
“Books can be read.”
“Knowledge can be learned.”
“But that is merely accumulation.”
“What truly determines whether you can move forward isn't books.”
Ryan looked up.
“Then what is it?”
Chris shrugged.
“Crossing the Door.”
Ryan frowned slightly.
He had a faint, fleeting impression of the term, but it quickly slipped away.
“What does that mean?”
Chris thought for a moment.
He casually placed a nearby book on the desk.
“You can think of your current self as standing outside a door.”
“The great door of the Lantern is right before you.”
“You already know what the door looks like.”
“And you know what lies behind it.”
“But the problem is—”
He tapped the desk lightly.
“No one knows how to push it open.”
Ryan was taken aback.
“There is no set method?”
“None.”
Chris answered bluntly.
“At least, no one has ever successfully summarized one.”
“Some do it in dreams.”
“Some do it when they are on the verge of death.”
“Some see a beam of light.”
“And others just wake up from a drunken stupor and find they've crossed over.”
He chuckled at this point.
“Sounds ridiculous, doesn't it?”
“But that is the reality.”
“Everyone knows they must cross the door.”
“Yet no one knows where the door actually is.”
“And even less does anyone know when it will appear before them.”
Ryan looked down at the booklet.
“So knowledge won't help me achieve Ascension either?”
“It can.”
Chris nodded.
“But knowledge can only tell you that the door exists.”
“It cannot push the door open for you.”
He gazed out the window at the greyish-white sea.
His voice grew quiet.
“And there is another issue.”
“Dreams.”
Ryan remained silent.
Chris continued.
“The further you progress, the deeper you must venture into dreams.”
“But dreams are not maps.”
“There are no landmarks.”
“No directions.”
“The deeper one goes, the easier it is to forget who they are.”
“Some wander off and never return.”
“Some return.”
“Their bodies return.”
“But their minds are left behind in the dream forever.”
He spoke of these things as if they were the most ordinary matters.
But Ryan felt a heavy weight settle in his chest.
Suddenly, Chris laughed again.
“But you're in luck.”
“When you are truly ready to cross the door, I can offer you a free opportunity.”
Ryan looked up.
“What kind of opportunity?”
“That's a secret.”
Chris winked.
“It won't be worth as much if I tell you now.”
“You'll find out when the time comes anyway.”
He waved his hand dismissively.
“Don't worry.”
“At the very least, it will save you a lot of detours.”
Ryan nodded and carefully tucked the booklet away.
Then, he fell silent again for a brief moment.
“There is one more thing.”
“Hmm?”
“I want to find a relic.”
“Ideally, one that can enhance my direct combat capabilities.”
Hearing this.
Chris sized Ryan up.
Suddenly, a very peculiar smile spread across his face.
“A relic?”
“Aren't you already wearing one?”
Ryan was stunned.
“What?”
Chris raised a hand and tapped Ryan's glasses.
“These.”
Ryan instinctively adjusted the frames.
“These were a gift.”
“I know.”
Chris smiled.
“That fellow Alvin forged them himself.”
“His craftsmanship is quite decent.”
Ryan's expression shifted slightly.
“You know him?”
“I do.”
“We used to drink together in our youth.”
“Later on, he became obsessed with blacksmithing, while I became obsessed with dreaming.”
“It's as simple as that.”
Chris spoke nonchalantly.
But Ryan had never expected that Alvin would actually have a history with the man standing before him.
Chris reached out and slipped the glasses off Ryan's face.
He slowly rotated them under the light.
A few extremely fine silver lines slowly emerged on the inside of the temples.
These patterns were normally almost invisible, only faintly appearing under very specific angles.
Chris took a glance and handed them back.
“Have you been treating them as just an ordinary pair of glasses?”
Ryan nodded honestly.
“I don't understand these patterns.”
“And I don't know how to use them.”
Chris couldn't help but burst into laughter.
“That's normal.”
“Because you haven't learned how yet.”
As he spoke, he pulled an even thinner booklet from the shelf and shoved it directly into Ryan's arms. The cover bore only two words:
《Relics》.
“Take it.”
“Make sense of this first.”
“Once you can recognize these patterns, you'll naturally understand their true purpose.”
“Since Alvin gave them to you, it certainly wasn't just to help you read more clearly.”
Ryan looked down at the two booklets in his arms, suddenly feeling as though he had been carrying a treasure chest all this time but treating it like a plain wooden box.
Chris patted his shoulder.
“Alright.”
“That's enough learning for today.”
“If you keep staying indoors, your Lantern-mind will only grow stiffer.”
“Let's go.”
“I'll show you what the real Moth Port looks like.”
Having said that, he turned and walked toward the pier.
By the harbor.
A modest black sailing ship was moored quietly.
The hull bore no name, and its sails were a dusty grey-black, looking as though they had always been concealed within the thick fog.
With a light leap, Chris jumped onto the deck and turned back to wave at Ryan.
“Don't just stand there daydreaming.”
“Before you read ten thousand books, come out to sea with me first.”
“Some things can only be truly seen after leaving the port.”
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