Chapter 335: Exile

The nightmare scene swept into reality, a dark ocean connecting heaven and earth, the carriage tossing within it, thrown toward the unknown by panic like giant waves.

The mind went blank; the companions' cries of alarm, the horses' pained neighs as they were reined tight, and the trembling crack of leather straps were all scattered by the rolling thunder that followed.

In the chaos, the only source of light was lost, and the sense of material existence after losing sight dropped to a minimum.

At a certain moment, the world seemed especially unreal, so void that only something lighter than air currents remained, unable to even support a falling leaf; only pure spirit and consciousness floated and drifted, having lost all perception of distance and time.

At this most inappropriate moment, that feeling of sudden enlightenment struck again, seeming to be just within reach.

The feeling of being both near and far even made one ignore the dangerous situation, instinctively directing attention toward it.

Like a drowning person wrapped in hypothermia and suffocation beneath a cold current, discovering a sliver of light above, they swam with all their might, pounding the thin ice separating them from the air.

Yet the semi-transparent barrier, thin as a cicada's wing in intuition, was inexplicably tough; more despairing than the thick walls of a fortress, it could not be shaken even a bit no matter how hard consciousness struggled.

It was at this very moment, across the closest yet farthest distance, that he "saw" it again.

It was right opposite, so close that soft whiskers almost touched the tip of his nose and lips. Even so, it remained blurred and unreal, unable to form a concrete impression that could be preserved for long.

It was a perfect and supreme maxim, shifting dreamlike light and shadow; everything and nothing at once.

Like inspiration itself containing no impurities, a single fleeting glance made one feel that a long-troubling problem had been answered, yet new questions were born within the answer, compelling one to look at it again seeking further revelation.

It was like a flower bud blooming, layer upon layer, each layer more vibrant and mysterious than the last, yet none was the final face.

That old scholar who taught them obscure courses, a man who devoted his life to research yet remained unsatisfied, had once described the wisdom of the Tianfu Sect to them: endless and eternal; even if one chose a single aspect and spent a hundred lifetimes upon it, one could only approach infinitely without ever reaching the truth itself, a realm belonging solely to the Supreme.

But that should be an objective, constant existence, like the rules of celestial motion or the changing of seasons.

Not like now, some sort of... living thing, returning a meaningful gaze to the consciousness that perceived it.

Intense pain came from the edge of consciousness; the world regained its solidity in another flash of lightning between clouds, dragging consciousness back onto the carriage.

Dominic found himself soaring through the air; the broad, sturdy shadow of a tree rapidly enlarged, occupying his entire field of vision in the blink of an eye.

Before sinking into a reassuring faint, the last thought that flashed through Dominic's mind was:

"Damn Field, may he not receive the Knight Order's subsidy next month."

"So, my brothers, you are saying: two aspirant knights, on their way back from buying vegetables, not only overturned their carriage on a mountain road at least two carriages wide, but also ended up like this?"

Lifting a kettle of boiling water, Kraft tossed in a few pinches of dried marigold and mint leaves; after a moment's thought, he took a sealed small jar from the cabinet, scooped two large spoonfuls of golden, viscous, sweet-smelling liquid, and stirred it in.

After the prepared tea cooled slightly, it was poured into cups containing fresh crushed willow bark and pushed toward the two men, whose bodies were mottled with bruises.

"Drink some; a friend gave it to me, saying it is good for external injuries. I added some crushed willow bark myself, so it should have some pain-relieving effect."

Field glanced guiltily at Dominic and did not dare to reach for the cup first.

As the driver, because he had avoided the danger in time, his injuries were actually lighter; he was able to support a companion whose leg was bound in a splint and report to the temporary office and living quarters of the Chapter Master.

"I am very sorry, Mr. Kraft; it is also my fault. I should have found a more experienced driver, but they were busy cleaning the stables at the time." Dominic touched his still-aching nose and, out of regard for their years as fellow students, did not shift all the blame elsewhere.

"There will not be a second time. As for this time, we hope to deduct this year's subsidy and make up for the losses through labor."

Although the superior's attitude was quite mild and he had not mentioned the matter, admitting one's mistakes and bearing the consequences was a basic virtue of a qualified servant of the Tianfu Sect.

The scene that night was as awkward as it could be; even the leg injuries were treated only after Kraft, who had been preparing to sleep, was called up.

"Sigh... actually, it is nothing serious; just a few fewer dishes at dinner these days." Seeing the two men, whose bodies and minds had suffered a severe blow, Kraft felt too embarrassed to say much more.

Even if some symbolic punishment were to be administered, such as the compulsory labor common within the church, it would not be very suitable for the time being.

"Accidents happen often; do not blame yourself too much. The Tianfu Sect teaches us to forgive the faults of others, and when necessary, we should also forgive ourselves."

He lay sideways in the high-backed chair of the former abbot, seemingly casually glancing toward the curtain that hid the other half of the room.

"I did not call you here to assign blame; I only wanted to understand the sequence of events and remedy safety hazards, after all, we will have to travel this road many times in the future, won't we?" Kraft adopted his habitual posture of casual chat to make the atmosphere more peaceful.

The steaming, sweet-yet-bitter beverage further relaxed the two men.

They had not known Kraft for just one day; the invisible awkwardness gradually melted away.

"Actually, what I told you before was basically the whole story. There were many clouds, the sky was very dark, the horses were startled, and we lacked sufficient driving experience." Field finally dared to speak, but he did not quite understand what else needed to be understood about this.

The location of the incident and the general course of events had been briefly explained that night; the causes and effects were clear. Two inexperienced novices had simply encountered an unexpected situation; the carriage overturning was only natural.

Kraft nodded and looked at the other party involved. "Dominic, I want to hear your perspective. You were at the back of the carriage at the time, weren't you? You didn't need to control the horses, had more time, and jumping out was no problem at all. Why did it end up like this?"

"At that time... I happened to be thinking about something." Dominic explained, showing a slight trance when recalling that memory.

The pauses in his speech were not deliberate; it was as if he had suddenly thought of some forgotten trivial matter, failed to grasp the thread, and then immediately cast it aside.

Kraft filled his half-empty cup. "What was it?"

Field noticed his friend's hesitation and proactively reminded him, "That poem?"

"Poem?" Dominic took small sips of the warm tea and fell into thought. "Probably... probably so."

"Probably?" Kraft showed interest in the strange focus.

"Probably because of that passage of the poem. To be honest, you might not believe it, but I suddenly read an interpretation angle I had never thought of before."

His train of thought became slightly clearer after the prompting, but it remained fragmented, with a slight suspicion of concussion. "I can't remember the specifics. Is this important?"

"It's fine; I'm just curious. What poem made you so focused? You can share it with me when you remember." Kraft comforted him. "You two go back first. Patrols and night watches are suspended for this period; we will arrange some other tasks for you that don't require much walking."

"If you feel anything 'not quite right,' remember to communicate in time; after all, I am considered a mentor of the Knight Order."

The two left, completely baffled.

Whether it was an illusion or not, it seemed they heard a barely perceptible suppressed laugh from inside the room.

After watching the closed door in silence for a long time, Kraft turned and said, "Lei Mengde, what do you think?"

"You are a bit too indulgent toward them. If a young monk in the church did such a thing, he should at least get a beating." The middle-aged monk, his face written with dissatisfaction, pushed aside the curtain and appeared, strongly disagreeing with Kraft's "rule-breaking" behavior.

It was precisely because of the strict reward and punishment system that the church could maintain discipline internally.

"That is exactly why I did not let you come along." Kraft shook his head, took an empty cup, and poured honey tea for him as well. "Don't put too much pressure on people in such conversations, or you won't get anything out of them."

"Do you think there is a problem?"

"It is still that same saying: not necessarily. For now, we can only be vigilant about every matter. Our horses are provided by the Xiguo Family; they are very reliable. I tested them personally; even in thunderstorms, there would be no problems." In his memory, Baron Priyer had mentioned frequent accidents on the mountain. "This matter carries a certain degree of strangeness."

"Transfer them to the manor downstairs first, keep them far from here, and observe them closely."