Chapter 58: Chapter 58
"Should I ask about the secrets of the Righteous Gods and their corresponding months? Or just ask about the secrets of the gods themselves?"
He pondered the question, a nagging feeling telling him the figure on the throne likely knew the answers to all of them.
"What if I ask, 'Who am I?'"
He considered it for a moment, but this world had divination and prophecy. The entity on the throne might not see Earth, but it could very well reveal, "You do not belong to this realm."
After a long, careful deliberation, Jenkins nodded to the equally tense professor and posed his question: "Who is the Lord of Blossoms?"
Silence descended upon the palace, broken only by the alluring glint of gold reflecting an unseen light source.
Jenkins couldn't help but exclaim internally. The Lord of Blossoms was the most enigmatic being he knew of, a name he'd only heard from a Cursed Item. He had hoped the entity on the throne wouldn't know the answer, but it turned out it didn't dare to speak it!
"We live in the 18th Epoch, yet most of the long history that came before is untraceable. Only scattered fragments in occult texts and the occasional discovery of subterranean complexes prove the previous seventeen epochs even existed. I wish to know, on what basis are the epochs divided?"
Before the figure on the throne could respond, the professor turned to Jenkins and spoke in a rushed whisper:
"I may not survive this, but if I can get an answer to this question, my life's work will be complete. I am Professor Burns, of the history department at Noland First Higher Academy. If you make it out of here alive, please inform the school of my death. Tell them to find a replacement lecturer quickly."
He finished speaking and turned back to the throne, his face devoid of fear. Instead, it held the pure, earnest hope of a child anticipating a sweet treat.
"What is the answer?"
He murmured, his eyes wide with anticipation, but no reply came.
The same answer. A strange flush spread across Professor Burns's face.
"I knew it! I knew it! The end of one epoch and the beginning of the next is no mere historical transition. It is a secret more profound than those of the gods themselves. Yes... yes! I still have work to do with the rest of my life! This... this is truly..."
Jenkins couldn't quite grasp the professor's complex emotions. In what felt like a blink, it was his turn again.
A sense of doom washed over him. He hadn't accumulated any earth-shattering secrets since arriving in this world, and worse, the figure on the throne had yet to utter the words, "I do not know."
"Barnard once said that a Mysterious Realm never backs you into an inescapable corner!"
Jenkins whispered the words to himself. The professor's manic laughter ceased, his expression freezing as he turned to look at Jenkins, a thoughtful glint in his eyes.
"Since he mentioned knowledge from the very beginning, this Mysterious Realm must be all about knowledge. That means... there must be knowledge he doesn't possess!"
Jenkins felt a spark of insight. "He knows the secrets of godhood, he knows the past... so the answer isn't to ask something mysterious or complex. The future is out too; prophecy and divination could easily reveal that."
He nodded slowly. "So, the key to this realm truly is knowledge. The best question isn't something I don't know the answer to, but something only I know—knowledge that humanity has yet to discover!"
He offered a silent prayer to the Sage, hoping the entity on the throne wasn't relying on some sort of omniscience, and then he spoke:
"I have a definition and a question. Definition: A prime number is a natural number greater than 1 that has no positive divisors other than 1 and itself. My question is: How can one prove that every even integer greater than 2 is the sum of two primes?"
An awkward silence followed before the monotonous voice drifted down from above:
"A most interesting question. That is knowledge I do not possess."
A genuine smile finally broke across Jenkins's face.
He glanced at Professor Burns, hoping his question might have offered some inspiration for a similarly profound, specialized problem. But then he remembered—the man was a history professor.
"We're both followers of the Legacy Sage," Jenkins thought. "I should help him."
With that thought, Jenkins tugged on the professor's sleeve. He pulled out the fountain pen he always carried, scribbled a few lines on a piece of paper, and handed it over.
The professor read the note, his eyes widening in understanding before he gave Jenkins a grateful nod. He then turned to the figure on the high throne and asked:
"Using only a compass and an unmarked straightedge, how is it possible for a mortal to trisect an arbitrary angle?"
"A most interesting question. That is knowledge I do not possess."
The professor let out a long, shuddering sigh of relief. He had asked all three of his questions.
Jenkins nodded. His theory was correct. No matter how esoteric or mysterious the question, as long as an answer existed somewhere, the master of this Mysterious Realm could provide it. The only way to win was to pose questions about new, pioneering knowledge.
He paused for a moment, his gaze falling upon the golden statue of Papa Oliver. Then, he posed his final question: "How can one prove that no more than four colors are required to color any map, such that no two adjacent regions have the same color?"
"A most interesting question. That is knowledge I do not possess."
Before the words finished echoing, the palace doors boomed open, revealing an endless expanse of light beyond.
The golden sand at Jenkins's and the professor's feet suddenly stirred, rising like a wave. Three clumps of sand flew toward them—two for Jenkins, one for the professor—and solidified into perfectly round, golden pellets.
"This is your reward for new knowledge. With it, you may turn any mundane object to gold."
"A single-use Midas touch?"
Jenkins was taken aback, but he immediately called out to the figure on the throne:
"I only need one. In exchange, can I take this statue with me?"
Jenkins snatched the golden pellet and then tried to lift the solid gold statue, straining with every ounce of his strength. It wouldn't budge—the sculpture of Papa Oliver was simply too massive!
The professor snapped to his senses, pocketing his own reward. A flicker of red light emanated from him, and he effortlessly hoisted the golden statue of Papa Oliver onto his shoulder.
He gave Jenkins a heroic wave. Without a backward glance, the two of them sprinted toward the white light. Content orıginally comes from novel※fire.net
After a moment of silence, the figure on the throne descended stiffly from the dais. He walked toward a cluster of solid gold statues in a corner of the palace.
Their attire was identical to his own. He moved slowly, deliberately, finally stopping between two of the statues. His hands fell to his sides as his body began to transform, gradually turning to solid gold.