Chapter 215: Reading Club

"The pitch-black tower, the cursed black-haired princess wanders outside the window.

Thorns and venomous snakes coil beneath the tower; dark guards, by the Black King's command, hold every gate.

Ah, the man who never knew fear—why has the nameless hero come?

For wealth? For beauty? For the crown? Or for the pitiful cursed daughter of disaster, she who is soon to be hanged?

He swung his sword, severing the thorns and venomous snakes.

He roared, driving back the guards and the Black King's curses.

He climbed, guided by moonlight and flying birds.

Above the tower, beneath the moonlight, the hero stood below the windowsill, reaching out his hand toward the princess.

'Light—I have seen light, the light that belongs to me.'"

Li En set down the handwritten pages; the poem upon them bore the marks of a scribe's hand.

Before him stood numerous bookshelves filled with various ancient texts on history, humanities, and religion; the poetry anthology now in his hands was what these attendees had just recited.

Around him lay several unlucky souls: among them were third-rate poets, scholars, and even a middle-aged mage apprentice.

This was the address on the note: 21 Star Street, the German District—a three-story small building.

Most mid-to-upper-level buildings in this world are two- or three-story small structures, not because everyone is wealthy enough to own a villa, but because, with land relatively worthless, building materials remain more stable under such conditions.

This small building looked like one long neglected and in disrepair, yet Li En entered with ease—he had bought a ticket to get in!

"About the Whisperers, what do you know?"

Li En spoke calmly; after receiving the note, he had rushed here immediately.

Even at night, this old "Town Museum" still saw people coming and going, yet no one stood before those trash exhibits. Li En easily found the mechanism leading to the basement and, facing those masked individuals gathered below, he subdued them all at once.

No blood had been shed so far; it was merely that these people's resistance was too weak, with most not even qualifying as practitioners.

Such unprofessional opponents allowed Li En to show mercy.

"We—we are the Whisperers. This is merely the self-designation of our reading club."

"My lord knight, we are merely ordinary scholars."

"My lord, is there a misunderstanding? We are merely an ordinary reading club with thirty years of history. Wearing masks is our tradition; we are not cultists."

Did he grab the wrong people? Li En smiled.

He reached for the asymmetrical mask: on the right, black feathers; on the left, tentacles like an octopus. The mask bore four eyes, yet they were uneven in size.

This was an exceptionally realistic and aesthetically alien design; by a paladin's experience, such features were typical of cultists, likely a twisted creation of some deity's statue.

Li En had no proof, but he was no law enforcer either!

Night rangers sometimes enjoyed such freedom; as long as they were certain, there was no need to follow certain restrictions.

"I know you are a criminal, you know I know, everyone knows, but you have no proof"—Li En would never accept such a situation. If he was certain someone was a criminal, he felt no pressure to arrest first and interrogate later.

"You indeed are not cultists," Li En said, gazing at their faces; the supernatural power within them was nearly zero.

This "Whisperers' Reading Club," Li En had nearly uncovered: it was indeed a reading club with considerable history, even possessing connections in the Radiant City.

In this world, a "reading club" was a rather subtle thing; as mentioned earlier, "knowledge" here was extremely expensive. Those books, even slightly rare ones, could cost a common family several months' entire income. Knowledge is power, yet for a poor family to produce a noble son, especially a scholar son, was far too difficult.

Thus arose the so-called reading clubs, where people pooled money to buy books, exchange books, and read together.

This actually fit the "German District's" identity well: it was the city's third or fourth largest district, home to commoners, merchants, and even some lower-middle nobles. It was a densely populated residential area with decent conditions, yet could be seen as a lower-tier substitute for the Radiant District.

In such an environment, reading clubs were numerous and often large; this family museum, which almost no one visited, actually survived on membership fees from the reading clubs.

But reality always develops in subtle ways.

"Pirated books, banned books, handwritten copies, cult propaganda, scam propaganda—your business is quite mixed, isn't it?"

"Uh, everyone does this."

With many people, courage grew; illegal handwritten copies were merely basic. These banned pamphlets and cult missionary books often came from lower-level intellectuals with a little knowledge and literacy.

Reading clubs easily became community "academic cliques." If one or two noble sons emerged from within, gaining status among the big shots in the Radiant District and other upper districts, it became even more interesting—they often became organizations with enforcement power, acting as that big shot's executors and lackeys in other districts, constantly funneling "talent" upward.

For such "societies," the nobles actually did not interfere; they too had their own "reading clubs," such as various interest salons.

The Whisperers' Reading Club was among the better ones; at least, for now, it remained more of a "book-exchange club," a "fundraising book-buying club," a "book-copying club," but

"Yet your name, the very act of your regular gatherings, is the greatest blasphemy, the greatest malice."

For certain existences, no elaborate ritual was needed; merely calling out Their name was enough to attract Their attention.

In fact, those rituals were like a passerby walking by while some ants used sticks to spell out your name; you might occasionally glance seriously, even curiously reach out to touch them.

For many great existences, such as the Serpent, merely calling their name was sufficient; they could perceive it. Whether they came depended not on your Offering, but solely on Their own willingness.

But if you were lost in the vast universe from the beginning, and suddenly a planet broadcast your name while you were bored or starving

"... becoming a beacon for Outer Gods without even knowing it. What about your superiors? Your president?"

Li En glanced around; these members were far too ordinary.

"The president and vice-president suddenly fell ill and died two years ago; now the reading club runs itself."

Li En sighed. Many cults were like this: on the surface, legitimate and compliant enterprises, with staff and members who were ordinary people earning wages to live.

They were merely shells for true cultists; perhaps the core members had already achieved their goals and changed identities to continue their work.

"Detect Evil."

A faint light spread outward; the members, while surprised, also showed expressions of relief.

So it was a paladin; no need to worry about being summarily executed. Anyone might kill indiscriminately, but a paladin truly would not.

A faint red aura rose from two members, but they clearly were not villains; most bore neutral colors. Yet Li En's expression turned surprised.

Li En raised his long sword and swung it fiercely.

"Boom!"

The basement floor cracked open once more, a huge fissure; foul stench and growls rose from below.

Li En looked down and immediately smiled.

"Heh, looks like I've found your Guild Master."

(End of this chapter)