Chapter 1469: Birds Returning (Part 31)

After Bruce moved all the classics from the library in Beelzebub's demon palace back to the Oblivion Bookstore, Constantine was already buried in the pile of books.

But Bruce still managed to dig him out, pressed his shoulders and said, "Come on, John, we have to sort them all out and put them in categories. This is the precious knowledge storage of our school."

"Spare me!" Constantine wailed: "Nothing good happens when you get involved with you teacher and student! There are tens of thousands of books here! More than half of them don't even use human languages!"

"It doesn't matter, I can decipher these languages first. Madame Xanadu said she would provide me with help. She has lived for so many years, she wouldn't not know some of the mysterious world's characters, right?"

"You met Nimue?" Constantine lay in the middle of the book pile and said: "I advise you to stay away from that woman. She was the one who killed Merlin back then, and has been entangled with the Phantom Stranger for many years..."

"I just need her knowledge reserve." Bruce said while taking out a notebook and starting to write and draw on it, and said: "Let's start from that pile over there. I learned the common language of Hell and more than a dozen other racial languages when I was in Hell. The language families there have commonalities. I want to be able to sort out the classics compiled in demon language soon."

Constantine gave two dry laughs and said: "Then you decipher first, I'll go..."

"You can't go anywhere. And you, Tim, come here. I'll teach you the common language of Hell first, and then you go sort that pile of books. Jason, stop standing there, you sort the pile to Tim's right."

Red Robin standing at the door widened his eyes. He looked at Bruce and said: "Don't tell me, we have to sort all these books in one night??"

"Of course not."

Bruce's answer made Red Robin breathe a sigh of relief, and then he heard Bruce say again: "Not just one night, we can use about a week to sort them all out, and then start studying step by step."

Red Hood let out a scream. He looked at Schiller, who was sitting at the table in front of the bookshelf drinking red wine, with a look for help, but Schiller watched all this with a smile and said: "You sort first, I'll go confirm the topics we are going to develop in the early stage, see you in a week."

In the next week, the screams in the Oblivion Bookstore came one after another.

Soon, Batman's magic claws reached the distant magical world of Maia. Madame Xanadu sat in her cottage in the forest for a whole week, because Bruce made hundreds of calls to her a day.

When she said she would provide help to Bruce, it wasn't just politeness. In her view, Bruce possessed the powerful power to directly summon Beelzebub, so using her own knowledge to provide help was the most effortless way to maintain interpersonal relationships.

After all, a magic apprentice who hadn't graduated from his teacher's place, how much patience could he have on studying this kind of obscure classics?

Perhaps, when he truly signed a contract with a demon king, he would start enjoying the life of a magician who wantonly squandered power. Madame Xanadu had seen too many such young mages.

Most of the time, they all said they admired knowledge, but in the end, what they admired was the powerful power that knowledge could bring. If they could bypass knowledge and gain power directly, who wouldn't do it?

The answer is Batman.

Batman spent his whole life pursuing the truth behind power. His creed was that if he didn't know the truth, he would definitely not use this kind of power. It could be said to be a late-stage manifestation of persecution paranoia.

The Batman of this universe didn't have such heavy persecution paranoia, but his curiosity hadn't diminished at all. He studied the knowledge of the magical world really just for knowledge, not caring at all whether the ancient and obscure knowledge could bring him stronger power.

So, Madame Xanadu suffered. Her words had already been laid on the ground. As a person with a face in the magical world, if she broke her promise to a magic apprentice, how would she mix in the future?

So, she could only guard her own home, trying hard to dig out the clues Bruce might need from the knowledge she had accumulated for many years, helping him decipher those ancient languages that demons and angels thought were too difficult to use.

At the beginning, Madame Xanadu's knowledge could still cope, but as Bruce's research went deeper and deeper, the knowledge reserve of the forest fairy who gained longevity was not enough.

Madame Xanadu herself was not a fairy who loved learning very much. Most of her knowledge came from her experiences traveling around the world. Answering some questions related to the human world and Maia was okay, but once it involved more secret knowledge, she was also having a headache.

So, she could only seek help from her sister, the Lady of the Lake Vivienne. Vivienne was actually the kind of fairy in human imagination, kind, knowledgeable, and mastering many ancient secrets that humans couldn't understand.

After hearing that a human actually studied to this extent, Vivienne also expressed great interest, and the result was that she also sat in her lake for a whole week.

Bruce's questions to them were not whimsical or unconstrained. Every one of his questions had a source and logic. Simply put, if you couldn't answer, it would make you feel that you were stupid, rather than the other party making things difficult for you.

Although Vivienne mastered many ancient secrets, she was only knowledgeable and not good at logical deduction, and her creativity was average. After about a week, she was already speechless by Bruce's questions.

So, Vivienne's evaluation of Bruce began to spread widely in Maia. She called him "the most difficult human since King Arthur."

Madame Xanadu was also provoked, and she really didn't believe that a tiny human could stump the fairy clan passed down for generations in Maia?

When she and Bruce clashed, she began to look for people who could answer Bruce's questions in Maia.

Many ancient races lived in the magical world of Maia, and quite a few rulers of races came from ancient times and had met the compilers of the classics Bruce studied.

But these elves naturally formed from the magical world couldn't understand why humans had to come up with so many strange theoretical studies. Their lives almost had no such thing as learning, because their power was innate.

So, they could only tell Bruce the historical secrets they knew, and couldn't provide any help for his research.

But Bruce was quite persistent, insisting on asking clearly about every piece of information of every race. For a time, Batman's name could stop children from crying at night in Maia.

It wasn't that all ancient people of all races were so kind and willing to solve his problems, but since they witnessed how those who didn't cooperate were dragged to talk, they felt that answering a few hundred calls a day wasn't a problem.

Speaking of the inside of the Oblivion Bookstore, if you summarize the situation these days in one sentence, it's probably "Constantine is having bad luck."

Bruce didn't need to say more. Except for solving the most basic physiological needs, he was devoted to books. In just half a month, he not only read a small half of the books but also memorized them all.

Schiller didn't even need to solve physiological needs. He didn't eat, drink, or sleep, went through all the contents of those thousands of books, and then began to screen topics continuously.

Tim's talent was closest to Batman's. Whether it was runes, secret languages, or symbols, he could crack them extremely quickly. In two weeks, he conquered the cracking of more than 20 languages.

Even Red Hood Jason could sit there all day without interruption reading books, and even felt it was very interesting. He mastered almost all the sources of power and folk stories introduced in this pile of books, and knew the life and background of each archmage like the back of his hand.

Then, there was only one person who was out of tune with the strong learning atmosphere in the room.

Constantine asked Red Hood a question very suspiciously: "How on earth can you read these?"

And Red Hood also asked him very suspiciously: "Don't you know how to read? How can you not read if you know how to read?"

Constantine was speechless.

Since being forced to land by Schiller and supervised by his brother to quit smoking and drinking, Constantine was subjected to another round of baptism of knowledge by Batman.

Originally, he could be called a top student in the magical world, but that was just picking the tall among the short. Most of the mysterious world knowledge he mastered came from practice.

But now, even if it was just theory, Constantine could be called a master level. After all, rolling with the Bat family for two whole weeks, even a monkey should have written Shakespeare.

In the end, the magical world of Maia could no longer solve Bruce's difficult questions. Constantine had to use his connections to find all kinds of magicians who mastered strange knowledge to solve Bruce's vigorous thirst for knowledge.

And facts proved that there were very few people in the world who could answer Batman's questions. Most people couldn't keep up with his thinking when discussing with Bruce. A small number of people could keep up with his thinking but were not creative enough and couldn't provide any constructive suggestions.

There was a very small part who indeed provided Bruce with some help in their professional fields, but soon Bruce would break away from this field to study other fields related to it or completely unrelated. No one was an all-around master, and leaving their professional fields naturally couldn't provide help anymore.

Finally, even Constantine's strange connections all over the mysterious world were used up, but Bruce was still not satisfied with his research progress.

Finally, one day, Beelzebub was awakened by a strange sound while sleeping in his palace. He listened carefully, it seemed to be a prayer from the human world.

"Great God of Plague, the ghost king Christ Beelzebub with infinite power, I implore you to answer the doubts for your loyal believer—"

"If I want to add a prophecy for futurus in the rune named fortuna, make the prophecy result directly act on nov-fortuna-futurus, and exclude the influence of the possible -actus of the object using the rune on the Certus category of the prophecy result, then how to avoid the error of Tempusruina brought by the shift of the occurrence point when the prophecy occurs?"

"... Ah?" ===== CHAPTER 1470 =====