Siles Noel hitched a ride, so to speak.
The lady introduced herself as Angela Clayton, and Siles addressed her as Miss Clayton.
Miss Clayton came from a distinguished background, though she didn’t elaborate on her family’s status. She had come here on a friend’s introduction, but she was vague about her friend’s identity, offering no clear details.
Soon, the person Miss Clayton was waiting for appeared.
He was a tall man, around thirty years old, with unremarkable features. The most striking aspects of his appearance were his ornate long robe and his radiant smile.
“Welcome, my lady!” he said to Miss Clayton. Noticing Siles’s presence, he asked, “And this is?”
“Siles Noel,” Siles introduced himself politely. “I’m here for the same reason as Miss Clayton.”
He presented the business card belonging to Morton.
The following parts of the text will be scrambled to prevent theft from aggregators and unauthorized epub making. Please support our translators by reading on secondlifetranslations (dot) com. If you are currently on the site and and you are seeing this, please clear your cache.
Mbl xyd tzydnle yv kv yde dseele, pxkzkdt. “Elznsxl, Ya. Lslz, yde Ykpp Uzyuvsd. Yu dyxl kp Uyasz Tywpxyd. Zsw nyd nyzz xl Uyasz.”
Uyasz oyp yd swvtskdt, nbllaqwz xyd, plahkdt yp yd sqqknla sq vbl Tkpvsaknyz Fsnklvu yde y pwcsaekdyvl sq Ksplrb Ysavsd. Geekvksdyzzu…
Uyasz pyke okvb y xupvlakswp yka, “R’x yzps y twkel qsa psxl sq vbl Slhlzyvsap.”
Ykpp Uzyuvsd, xykdvykdkdt bla lmnkvle yde dlahswp elxlydsa, qszzsole Uyasz wr y prkayz pvykanypl.
Lsvknkdt Fkzlp’p xydu clzsdtkdtp, Uyasz qkapv zle bkx vs yd lxrvu assx sd vbl plnsde qzssa vs pvsal bkp kvlxp. Mbld, bl vssj csvb sq vblx vs vbl vsr qzssa.
Fkzlp scplahle vbl ydnkldv, olktbvu yvxsprblal sq vbl cwkzekdt. Mbl ellr casod pblld sq vbl qzssa nyaakle y plypsdle pldpl sq ytl, yp kq lhlau pvlr aliwkale nywvksd.
Fvlrrkdt sdvs pwnb y qzssa yde blyekdt vs vbl vsr qzssa sq vbl Tkpvsaknyz Fsnklvu xyel Ykpp Uzyuvsd’p lmralppksd sdl sq dlya-qzyvvlale ypvsdkpbxldv.
Fkzlp’p lmralppksd alxykdle wdawqqzle.
He surmised that “Revelator” referred to this world’s “transcendent power,” which wasn’t surprising. But could a mere business card grant access to such power?
Did this mean the transcendent powers of this world were semi-public and backed by official forces?
Siles couldn’t help but feel a twinge of unease.
What troubled him more was his realization that he had received the business card because he mentioned studying Silent Era literature at the antique bookstore, prompting Glenfiel to give it to him.
Yet, the Silent Era literature program at Lamifa University wasn’t a rare field of study.
The original body had studied this field for years without receiving an invitation to transcendent power. But as soon as Siles arrived, he got one? That seemed unusual.
Was it related to his transmigration?
Or perhaps…
Siles suddenly recalled the check that occurred before he discovered the antique bookstore.
He mused thoughtfully: was it because he succeeded in his investigation check that he was able to find that old bookstore? In other words, could ordinary people not even notice its existence?
Indeed, the original body had lived in that neighborhood for over a month and never noticed Glenfiel’s Antique Bookstore. Given his academic expertise, he would have naturally visited such a place.
Yet, his memories held no trace of Glenfiel’s Antique Bookstore.
…So, did this world’s transcendent power have some sort of threshold or prerequisite?
On the way to the top floor of the Historical Society, countless questions and related speculations swirled in Siles’s mind. But the moment he stepped onto the top floor, he temporarily set all those thoughts aside.
They arrived at a door at the end of a corridor lined with reddish-brown velvet carpet.
The door bore a mysterious symbol, resembling an eye but sketched with just a few lines.
Siles found it familiar. After a closer look, he realized it was the symbol of Antinam, the god of the past and history.
In some myths and the doctrines of the Church of the Past, Antinam was the recorder and witness of all past history, knowing the past and capable of piercing the mists of history with His gaze.
Thus, His symbol was an eye—more specifically, a left eye.
The presence of this symbol here confirmed to Siles that the Historical Society was indeed backed by the Church of the Past.
Carol paused before the door, flashing a mysterious smile. “Now, you two—don’t blink.”
He pushed the door open.
A serene blue light radiated at that moment. The scene behind the door was more mundane than Siles had imagined, yet it exceeded his expectations. Miss Clayton let out a startled cry.
They had expected a simple room behind the door, but instead, it opened into a vast space—a grand hall, long corridors, high ceilings, countless doors, and people in long robes moving about.
Carol observed their expressions, noting that both Siles and Miss Clayton showed astonishment—Siles’s more subdued, Miss Clayton’s more exaggerated, but both clearly saw the space behind the door.
So, Carol gave a genuine smile. “Welcome, the… uh, I don’t know how many-eth Revelators. Congratulations on becoming Revelators.”
Miss Clayton couldn’t help but ask skeptically, “That’s it? We’re Revelators now?”
“Oh, only Revelators can see this scene,” Carol said, leading them into the space behind the door. A faint blue light, from an unknown source, lingered around them. “If you were an ordinary person, you’d only see an ordinary archive storage room.”
Miss Clayton suddenly understood. She hurriedly asked, “Why does a place like this exist?” She pointed, somewhat impolitely, at the high ceiling. “This place doesn’t look like it belongs in the original building.”
“That’s the Vice President’s doing. I don’t understand it. Probably some advanced ritual,” Carol said. “By the way, the Historical Society is indeed a gathering place for Revelators. Ordinary matters are handled by the President, while Revelator matters are overseen by the Vice President.”
Miss Clayton nodded, still confused. “Ritual? What ritual?”
Carol shrugged with a mildly teasing tone. “That’s the mystery of the Revelators. Don’t rush, look how calm Mr. Noel is!”
Miss Clayton immediately glanced at Siles, noticing his calm, composed expression. Feeling a bit embarrassed, she coughed twice and put on a deliberately composed face.
Carol burst into laughter at her expression, his cheerful demeanor free of any gloom. “Alright, alright, we’re here.”
They had passed through the crowd, who occasionally cast curious glances but mostly went about their own business. Their steps stopped before a room along the corridor. As expected, the door bore the eye symbol of Antinam.
Below the eye was a string of numbers: 666.
“Oh… it’s this number,” Carol muttered. “Nothing special, just a coincidence. At least it’s memorable.”
Carol reached out first, touching the door handle. At his gesture, Miss Clayton and Siles each touched the handle in turn. Then, Carol gripped the handle again, seeming to sense something with a focused gaze.
He smiled. “Perfect! Exactly six people! Alright, you two are today’s final newcomers. Let’s go.”
He pushed the door open and walked in, with Miss Clayton and Siles following behind.
Inside was a room resembling a reception parlor. A fireplace stood quietly, and a wall-mounted bookshelf reaching the ceiling was filled with books. The windows were bright and clean. Four people were already seated on sofas in the room’s center, drinking tea, eating small pastries, or reading books.
Admittedly, this bright and leisurely scene gave Siles an immediate, slight fondness for the so-called “Revelators.”
They didn’t seem to be some profoundly evil or secretive transcendent power.
Noticing the three enter, the four already in the room looked up.
Siles glanced over, seeing three men and one woman: a middle-aged man in tattered clothing with an anxious expression, a lively and bright-eyed young boy, a young man with a blank expression and a hint of impatience, and a gray-haired, kindly-faced elderly woman.
Carol had Miss Clayton and Siles sit down, letting the six introduce themselves to each other before quickly getting to the point.
“Today, you’ve gathered here, which means you’ll form a team in the days to come. You’ll study together, advance together, help each other, and exchange ideas until you become qualified, mature Revelators capable of standing on your own.”
Siles listened, thinking to himself: so, the training and growth of transcendent beings in this world resemble a study group format?
What determined this “until you become” process? Combat ability? The capacity to handle emergencies? Mental resilience?
Siles’s thoughts wandered, then he realized he might be overly reliant on the settings and frameworks of the internet novels from his previous life. He still didn’t know what kind of power existed in this world.
While Siles pondered, Carol continued his explanation. “And I am your guide on the path to becoming Revelators. I’ll provide you with knowledge, channels, and spaces for growth, and help you safely master the abilities related to being a Revelator.”
With that, he pulled a small object from his pocket.
It looked like a small booklet, but when Carol placed it on the tea table in front of them, the booklet suddenly expanded under everyone’s gaze into a massive, ancient book.
It measured about fifty to sixty centimeters in length and width, with a thickness equivalent to two upright hands. It was an unparalleled tome, and it was unclear how Carol had managed to shrink it into such a small booklet to carry with him.
As the others stared in shock, Carol flashed his usual smile. “This is the knowledge you’ll need to master in the future—thoroughly master.”
The six new Revelators exchanged glances, each showing a hesitant expression.
Carol said, “The so-called Revelators are those who, using potions and time tracks, draw power from past times, gain revelations, and ultimately recreate such power.”









Second Life Translations' Comment Policy
1. Be kind and respectful. Comments with curses will be put under moderation.
2. No links to other websites or asking for links.
3. No spoilers!