Chapter 112#
Distant Star Reflection 20#
Beneath the glass dome, the banquet hall blazed with light, yet remained utterly silent.
The pope sat elevated at the hall’s head. Age had whitened his hair and beard, his features rounded from years of privileged living. Yet long inhabiting this position, his face had become directly synonymous with authority. Only hearing the pope ask gravely: “What occurred?”
Bishop Kaven possessed slim stature, rigid features, yet trembled uncontrollably from excitement, facial muscles contracting unnaturally.
“Your Holiness, these days following your command, I’ve diligently researched ‘snowmen’ incident causes while managing Extinguish Star Festival scheduling. Suddenly discovering something terrifying—”
The pope interrupted, gesturing to flanking guards: “Follow me. This isn’t a place for reporting.”
Yet Kaven seemed unheeding the pope’s command, preparing to speak.
“Bishop Kaven!” the pope’s tone grew severe.
Then a nearby lord opened his mouth, eyes showing concern: “Is this snowmen-related information?”
With these words, nearly half those present perked up, discussing among themselves.
Under the pope’s severe gaze, Kaven’s eyes imperceptibly glanced toward Yu Feichen. Yu Feichen, in the shadows, slightly raised his cup.
Seemingly greatly encouraged, Kaven’s gaze solidified further: “Your Holiness, time runs short. The extinguishing ceremony must stop immediately! Otherwise snowmen will overrun the empire!”
Everyone expressed confusion. The pope and two cardinals beside him—their confusion seemed unnatural.
Yu Feichen observed the pope’s unfathomable expression, thinking the old man proved weaker than imagined. In that position, Yu Feichen would directly order guards dragging him away.
Yet the pope was religious leader, temporarily lacking direct authority over secular nobles. Since common people lived under snowmen’s shadow, hearing potentially snowmen-related news naturally created urgency to listen. If the pope prevented it, his authority would suffer.
Finally, the pope said: “Kaven, do you understand what you’re saying?”
“I do, Your Holiness,” Kaven met the pope’s gaze directly, right hand opening a micro-projector.
The curve graph projected clearly onto a decorative wall. Two curves rising and falling together—one representing extinguishing star trial frequency, the other snowmen appearance frequency. Even showing both simultaneously dropping to zero at early dawn was clearly depicted.
“Please forgive my discovering this connection only at the final moment, Your Holiness. Snowmen appearance rhythm nearly matches extinguishing star trial frequency. I suspect ‘snowmen’ are byproducts of the extinguishing process! We performed brief small-scale experiments, yet triggered so many snowmen incidents empire-wide. Should tonight’s formal extinguishing commence, I cannot imagine the consequences.”
In universal language lacking many technical terms, Kaven spoke rapidly, half-universal half-secret language, yet the central meaning came through clearly: extinguishing causes snowmen appearance.
Gasps rippled through the room.
Everyone present knew of snowmen, also knew of “extinguishing”—the cathedral’s great achievement.
Yet snowmen were bizarre lifeforms; extinguishing represented the cathedral’s magnificent truth-wielding over stars. How could these possibly relate?
Yet the undulating curves presented everything clearly. Combined with Bishop Kaven’s assured tone, initially no one could refute. One nobleman with excellent memory suddenly understood: “I remember—snowmen first appeared shortly after the first Extinguish Star Festival. Could they truly be related?”
Speaking aloud, he noticed others’ silence, prudently shutting up.
Silence seemed forcing the pope to speak. Yet under everyone’s scrutiny, the pope possessed little speaking room.
Pope Paul regarded the graph: “Similarity of trends doesn’t warrant rash assumption of causation between phenomena.”
“This—”
“But—”
The pope waved his hand: “Yet matters concerning imperial subjects’ safety permit no oversight.”
Under everyone’s observation, Pope Paul in ceremonial robes descended from his high seat, approaching Kaven. He placed his hand on Kaven’s shoulder: “Good child.”
Then his gaze swept across the clergy, his voice steady: “Cease all extinguishing-related trials. Tonight’s ceremony’s extinguishing number becomes one. From today, until the true cause is discovered, ’extinguishing’ shall never proceed again!”
Thus the nobles understood the full story. Several minor lords already began praising the pope’s compassion for his subjects.
The pope said: “My lords, the Truth Cathedral will thoroughly clarify the connection, ensuring ’extinguishing’ can safely bring resources to the empire.”
Windsor exchanged glances with an elder beside him. Bai Song, watching them, pulled a face. The feudal nobles were again calculating.
Commands transmitted layer by layer. What should have been three-hundred-newstar extinguishing celebrations became painless one-newstar extinguishing. Common people outside remained unaware—after all, the pope never announced how many stars would be extinguished. They simply praised the cathedral and truth as usual, then enjoyed the holiday night.
When that star extinguished, the pope seemed suddenly aged years, deeply sighing: “I hope tomorrow brings no more snowmen.”
Then turning to Kaven: “On the path seeking truth… why is it always filled with misconceptions? Good child, if this discovery proves correct, you’ve saved many tonight. If incorrect, you’ll face no blame.”
He patted the fifty-something-year-old “good child” Kaven’s shoulder like welcoming another favorite student.
Kaven respectfully lowered his head: “Your Holiness, actually this wasn’t my discovery.”
Yu Feichen, seeing things proceed as planned, was moving his gaze from Kaven when hearing this, he looked back. He sensed something ominous.
The pope: “Oh?”
“This came from Bishop Tan Per’s inspiration. He passed hints through Duke Landon for verification data—Bishop Tan Per always possessed keen perception, grasping internal connections between phenomena,” Kaven said.
This wasn’t what Yu Feichen wanted him saying.
Kaven was one of Tan Per’s followers, thus acting per his arrangement. He’d had Kaven reveal the extinguishing-snowmen connection before the assembled crowd, yet never meant him revealing sources. He’d wanted Kaven claiming this as self-derived conclusion, unrelated to anyone.
Clearly Tan Per’s retrial approached—Kaven couldn’t contain himself, wanting to redeem through merit. Once following someone or something, people performed irrational acts. Exposing Tan Per would attract the pope’s renewed attention. Yu Feichen never believed his two snowmen encounters were coincidence.
Yet spilled water couldn’t be recovered. The next moment, gazes converged upon Yu Feichen in the corner.
Windsor: “Truly so?”
Previously exposed publicly, now mentioning Tan Per, everyone associated it with Landon. Kaven’s words, once spoken, couldn’t be withdrawn. Yu Feichen, facing others’ gazes, smiled and nodded, expressing fortune at bonding with such excellent omega.
Yet among the crowd, a gloomy-faced priest asked: “Why would Bishop Tan Per produce such peculiar speculation?”
“Related to our experience,” Yu Feichen said. “First encountering snowmen, we were aboard ship. The snowman damaged transition equipment, trapping us inside wormholes for extended periods. Everyone knows when transition wormholes open, two cosmic locations overlap, allowing ships shuttling between them.”
Kaven nodded: “Extinguishing mirrors work similarly—using mirror stars opening passages, overlapping newstars and deathstars.”
“After that voyage we learned wormhole interior dangers—Father Hope can testify. Yet we suddenly realized: if ship wormholes prove that dangerous, interplanetary wormholes must be far more dangerous.”
Suddenly a priest said: “Could the energy fluctuations from mirror stars opening massive wormholes be too great, causing anomalies across wider ranges?”
Listeners paled. Yu Feichen fell silent.
This was the cathedral’s own conclusion, unrelated to him and Tan Per.
Though he’d guessed similarly.
The cathedral accomplished much—drawing newstar heat as energy, freely extinguishing them for habitable earthstars. Yet was this truly technology the current cathedral could perfectly control?
Distorting space, creating massive wormhole passages across vast distances comparable to planetary magnitude. How could such force avoid affecting surrounding space? Thus—disaster silently descended upon the empire.
Unexpectedly, the brief exchange greatly enlightened Bai Song, these days force-fed knowledge.
“You’re correct,” Bai Song furrowed his brow: “Wormholes connected two locations. When opening massive wormholes, energy fluctuations become too intense, distorting other space, perhaps creating additional small passages! Innumerable unstable small wormholes scattered throughout the cosmos. Perhaps someone walking would simply… would…”
Bai Song clearly qualified for graduation, Yu Feichen thought.
During extinguishing, space fractures scattered throughout the universe. Should someone encounter one directly and step through—
From this end, they evaporated.
Would they still exist alive on the other end?
No. Because that wasn’t a peaceful passage, but a violent narrow path filled with complex force fields, life consumed, matter annihilated, only from that end—the wormhole’s other side—projecting a fleeting white silhouette, the so-called “snowman.” Connected to wormholes, separated from reality’s dimension, causing such eerie destruction.
Snowmen weren’t another lifeform, but distorted humans.
Yet these space fractures only harmed humans? No—evaporating one person invited discovery, disappearing objects proved harder to notice. They didn’t only exist near humans but appeared randomly throughout the cosmos, in uninhabited deep space, even within planets’ solid interiors. In unseen places, this world had become pockmarked, disaster brewing.
Thus when Tan Per saw those curve graphs, they said: commanding power vastly exceeding oneself constitutes delusion.