The bard fantasized again.

Chapter 168 I Shine Brighter Than You (5k1w)

"You did it?"

Goya looked directly at Pluto.

With his 'business' made public, Pluto had nothing left to hide.

He fumbled in his fanny pack and pulled out a notebook:

"But my manuscript is still here, and it was obviously not leaked because of me."

"Are you just going to show it to me so openly?"

“We’re in the same boat.” Pluto knew that she also had manuscripts.

“But not from the same river.” Due to the seating arrangement, Goya could only move her shoulder further away from him.

The purpose of recording the contents of the log was solely for reference and research on Tang Qi's writing style.

At most, add a yearning for an adventurous life.

But she didn't want to get involved in any 'great cause' that sounded like it was about to capsize—

"Don't you think our academic system needs reform? Don't you think bards should be weaving the truth, not lies?"

Pluto asked sincerely,
"Have you not yet gotten tired of writing those lousy poems that flatter the nobility?"

Your work, "Love and Hate," claims to analyze the current living conditions and family doctrines of the Tyrannical Empire—but would you dare to write even the slightest bit about the mistakes of the nobility?

"You can't even write about those illegitimate children scattered in the corners of the empire, so how can you claim to be analyzing people's lives?"

Goya recalled the poems that had been sealed away in her drawer—

“The nobles’ money will be returned in full, while the commoners’ money will be split three-seven.”

She wanted to throw those poems in Pluto's face and tell him he had no right to mock her like that.

But she can't.

Because she still wants to live a good life under these confinement 'rules':
"Is this your 'great undertaking'? But you are not the ruler of the empire, not a nobleman, not even Dean Urasan who can decide the future of the academy—what can you possibly do?"

“You know very well, Goya. ‘Creativity requires freedom’—you said that yourself when we were drinking that day. And I’m telling you, you’re not the only one who thinks that way.”

“That night, I was just going along with what you wanted to say,” Goya denied.

"Then why do you go to the Forgotten Stone every night to check on the diary's updates?"

"How could I possibly do that every day?"

You can't fool me.

Pluto smiled confidently.

"Because I'm here every day too."

Goya glanced at Bruto speechlessly, then turned her gaze to the podium and launched into a thousand and one scathing rebuke of Ulasang, the instructor, for his behavior.

After a brief silence, she suddenly said:

"But I am a beneficiary of the system. I am willing to sacrifice my creative freedom in exchange for a stable and well-paying job."

"That's right, that's why I've never looked for you."

Goya looked around and found that she was now surrounded by familiar faces.

There were quite a few of his peers who, while drinking that night, lamented that their poems had been rejected "because the protagonist wasn't an aristocrat"...

She finally understood:

"So you've gathered this group of people. What are you planning to do?"

"Let the sparks of freedom ignite in every poem that is painstakingly crafted but will never see the light of day—until they spread like wildfire across this barren land of thought."

“This isn’t ‘reform.’ This is ‘rebellion.’”

Pluto acknowledged this:
"The former requires you to have enough say, but I don't have that."

Or rather, I may have once possessed it, but your existence blocked my path to advancement.

Whether someone shines or not is all in comparison, but anyone standing next to you will only appear dim in comparison.

There is only one academy for poets.

Therefore, there are not many teaching positions.

This results in very few avenues for its advancement.

Goya asked, "So you think it's my fault?"

“No, I did resent you. But is it wrong to ‘make a living by following the rules’? I don’t think so—so there’s no right or wrong, and I have no right to blame you.”

She looked at Pluto with some surprise, scrutinizing the radiant man for a long time before suddenly saying:

"You may have changed more than just your appearance."

Pluto shook his head: "I've never changed. It's just that sometimes... I inevitably feel lost and can't find my way."

I won't wish you success.

Goya said,
"Rebellion always involves bloodshed. I just want to live a peaceful life."

"Wishing is meaningless. We just need to be down-to-earth—do everything we can. The result is the least important thing."

"Then you should pray for how to get through this problem first."

Goya pointed to the manuscript on the podium.

“When a mentor gets angry, he never shows any mercy to anyone.”

She saw Pluto start asking around among his 'colleagues,' seemingly trying to confirm the ownership of the manuscript.

But when everyone shook their heads at him, showing him the manuscript still in their hands, Pluto's expression was no longer as relaxed as when he had just confided his feelings:

"If it wasn't leaked by the club, then who else could it be?"
Su Wen?

No, that kid didn't even have the guts to copy the manuscript...

As he hesitated, Ulasang finally ended his reprimand, slamming the manuscript in his hand onto the lectern, and almost roared:

"So who is it!?"

Who copied this manuscript? Who is disregarding the life and death of our entire Poetry Academy? I urge you to step forward now and admit all of this!
Out of consideration for our teacher-student relationship, I can be lenient with you. At most, I'll expel you from the academy and never hire you again!
But if you're unwilling to admit it now, wait until I catch you red-handed—

"At that time, I will send you to the Imperial Court on charges of 'insulting a nobleman' and give you a fair trial!"

"I understand."

Pluto sighed.
“No one’s manuscript was lost. It’s just that the dean knew about it, so he forged a copy of the manuscript and used it to pressure our psychological defenses, so that we would confess.”

Once he realized this, he and his colleagues breathed a sigh of relief.

They were indeed a rebellious group, possessing an audacity that made them unafraid of the dean's threats:
"At worst, we can just be more discreet when we take action later..."

"No. You don't understand our mentor. Although he seems rigid and harsh, he's actually a kind and forgiving person. He just has a sharp tongue but a soft heart, and he always gives instructions in a roundabout way..."

Goya looked at Pluto with some concern.

“But a mentor will never shoot an arrow at a target.”

Pluto's heart tightened again. Looking into Goya's eyes, he felt as if she were looking at a death row inmate who was about to die.

She sighed and explained:
"He's just giving you a chance, not saying he can't find you."

Pluto felt a stinging sensation in the seat beneath him, as if it were urging him to stand up.

But the opportunity for leniency is fleeting.

Ulasang said in a somber tone:

“Very good, I appreciate every student who has courage. But you’ve misplaced your courage.”

He was rubbing a rune stone in his hand. Sitting at the top of the stairs, Goya soon heard the clanging sound of metal colliding.

With heavy footsteps, six heavily armored guards entered from the conference room entrance, holding greatswords in both hands, standing silently on the descending staircase to ensure that no one would escape quietly from here.

Ulasang then snorted coldly, put on a half-covering helmet with a red gemstone inlaid in the center, and took out a piece of mutton fat jade, which emitted a soft halo.

He said nothing, but quietly approached the poet before him, placed the jade in his hand, and suddenly asked:

Do you know about the Forgotten Stone?

“I know…” the student answered tremblingly.

The jade in my hand did not change at all.

Have you read the inscription on the stone tablet?

"No, no..."

He shook his head, but noticed that the color of the jade had visibly darkened.

Startled, he quickly explained to Ulasang:

"I...I read the words on it! But...but on the day the Forgotten Stone was revived, I, like them, read the first diary entry written on it!"

Only then did the jade emit a milky white glow.

Ulasang didn't mind his concealment, but continued to ask:

"Have you copied down the inscription on the stone tablet?"

"No, absolutely not!"

The jade still retains its luster.

Ulasang then handed it to another person and asked him the same question.

All of this was observed by Goya.

Thanks to her extensive experience and frequent interactions with spellcasters, she recognized the two items:

"【The Stone of Honesty】. If the holder speaks the truth, it will shine; otherwise, it will be obscured. It cannot discern those who speak ambiguously."

However, the telepathic helmet can detect your thoughts and, through a series of questions, delve into the depths of your mind, seeing the divergent thoughts and images that arise from those questions…

In other words, it can distinguish those 'ambiguous' sources and confirm whether you are truly thinking or weaving lies.

Pluto, it seems your little boat will sink sooner than I thought.

"The spark of 'freedom' was ignited, but it's already extinguished before it even begins to burn." Goya sighed, unable to resist pinching her brow, suppressing her inner turmoil and speaking sarcastically.

"It even almost capsized my boat."

Her only regret now is ending the writing of "Love and Hate," leaving her room, and arriving at this conference room—

Even if copying the manuscript was done with the tutor's permission.

Through the magic of [Thought Detection], her mood while copying can still be detected by her mentor.

Even just now, Pluto was explaining things like 'freedom' and 'reform' to him. If he were to be questioned, his thoughts would suddenly veer off to other things.

It's hard to guarantee that it won't lower your impression score in your mentor's eyes.

If she loses her eligibility to be a teaching assistant because of this, she will definitely be unable to resist strangling Pluto.

Pluto, who had previously talked a lot about 'reform', couldn't help but smile wryly:
"Is it too late for me to turn myself in?"

"You have already missed this opportunity."

Goya said,
“Unless it is dealing with nobles, the mentor will defend his principles.”

Pluto hesitated and asked, "Do you still remember the punishment for 'insulting a nobleman'?"

"Confiscate all savings, deprive them of all rights for life, and reduce them to slavery. Depending on the severity of the situation, they may also be subjected to physical punishment—inciting public sentiment, those with serious offenses may be sentenced to death."

"Ha, the laws of our empire are truly harsh. If Donkey Weinberg were to return to the empire, he'd probably be sentenced to death on the spot, right?"

But he didn't even make it to that day.

As Goya was thinking this, she saw that Pluto had slowly stood up.

Seeing his actions, his colleague beside him couldn't help but shove his shoulder and whisper a reprimand:

"Pluto, what are you doing!?"

"Rebellion always involves bloodshed, doesn't it?"

Pluto stood up, puffing out his chest.
"It's better to bleed yourself out than to bleed yourself dry."

"Wait, Pluto—"

"Dean!"

Pluto shouted,

"Yes, I did it!"

To train spies with the necessary psychological qualities, the Poet Academy has a special performance course.

Although she was reluctant to admit it, Goya understood perfectly well that Pluto, like herself, was a top student at the academy.

His voice trembled, as if he had lost his psychological defenses and was terrified as time went by. In his hoarse and strained voice, he even lost a few words.

The shout echoed throughout the conference room, drawing everyone's attention, including Ulasang's, to the corner of the room.

Feeling their intense gazes, Pluto suddenly whispered:

“Goya, no one knows better than you that even sitting in the darkest corner, your brilliance is enough to make others unable to ignore your presence.”

But now, I'm standing right beside you—

Their eyes were fixed on me.

Ulasang, suppressing his anger, was about to order the construct guards to take him away.

But then, not far from Pluto, a Tiffer suddenly stood up and asked, puzzled:
“Pluto? You are an outstanding poet trained by the academy, even qualified to compete for teaching assistantships and become a mentor, why would you do this?”

Ulasang had met that Tiflin.

That damn Houston guy, he even punished me severely a few days ago because of the 'Susie with Teeth' incident—

Therefore, Ulasang was actually quite satisfied when he heard his question.

Although he had some issues with his lifestyle, at least this Tieflin was prepared to become the mouthpiece of the Empire.

The empire needs poets like this.

All we need are poets like this.

This is not something that a single dean can decide.

But then he realized something was wrong...

He had heard rumors that Houston seemed to be getting very close to Pluto lately.

Just as he saw Pluto about to explain, Urassan finally realized what Houston was doing.

Then he shouted:

"No! Shut up, shut up! Guards, take those two bastards away!"

Bluto never expected Houston to do this.

But when he met the gaze of his 'colleague,' he saw the other's unwavering eyes.

He suddenly realized that he had never been a lone traveler.

It wasn't him who 'gathered' the poets and organized the 'society'.

Rather, it is the flame of freedom that naturally attracts like-minded colleagues.

So he took a deep breath and started tearing at his throat.

He wants everyone to hear their voice:
Because I fantasize—

He dreamed that his creations would no longer be filled with lies that pandered to the nobility;

I imagine that true stories can be recorded and the poems of ordinary people can be sung in the streets;

I imagine that they will no longer hold the prejudice of "lackey" or "flatterer" in their eyes when they think of me;

I dream of being like the poet in his diary, crowning history with the crown of freedom—

"Boom, boom!"

Armored guards grabbed his arms from behind, covered his mouth and nose tightly, and dragged him out of the conference room.

He looked frightened and couldn't help but flail his legs and struggle in all directions.

But Goya, through his acting, discerned the provocation in his eyes.

It's like saying -

"I am more dazzling than you."

As the two bards were dragged away by the armored guards, Urasan spent a full hour sternly admonishing the remaining poets about Pluto's shortcomings.

He also strictly forbade the poet from spreading the news of today.

Otherwise, they will face the same fate as Pluto.

That's enough.

Who would run into the street and risk being charged with "insulting the nobility" by shouting nonsense like "The Forgotten Stones have been revived"?
This is also why the forgotten stone tablet has remained a secret to this day.

He spoke until his throat was dry and his wig nearly fell to the ground in anger, before he finally had to order the poets to leave the meeting room.

The farce ended in a way that Goya had never imagined.

But when she looked at her determined-looking colleagues and the students who left, she couldn't tell what they were thinking.

Goya realized that the spark of freedom was not 'extinguished before it even ignited'.

But from the very beginning—

From the moment Tang Qi's diary was revealed to every poet.

This planted a tiny seed of fire in their hearts.

Pluto is a gust of wind.

It swept past the dying embers of the firewood.

The first wisp of gray smoke rose from the barren plains.

Goya couldn't quite articulate the complex emotions she was feeling.

I felt as if my heart tubes were blocked, and I couldn't break free from the dullness for a long time.

When she came to her senses, she found herself already in the central garden, lost in thought.

A wide and huge stone monument stands in the center of the garden.

The crimson moon in the sky had not yet revealed its halo, allowing its bright light to shine on the stone tablet, revealing its sanctity.

The stone tablet is still guarded by the armored guard post.

However, Goya still has the right to approach the stele.

Thinking about everything that had happened today, she couldn't help but step forward, touch the stone tablet, and feel its rough texture:
"Junior, look what you've done—"

Even in death, he could not bring peace of mind to his mentor.

He was initially somewhat saddened by your departure, but now he's probably blaming you for dying so late…

As if in response to her, a few streams of starlight appeared in her eyes.

She didn't deliberately focus her gaze on any particular star, since she had already memorized the contents of each diary entry.

But as her gaze swept across the area, she suddenly felt something was amiss:
"Why is there one extra?"

Suddenly, she couldn't even feel herself breathing anymore.

"Could it be...could it be that he's still alive!?"

That tutor would probably be furious!

She quickly turned her gaze to the new star, and a line of text suddenly appeared before her eyes—

[August 27, 1000 of the Lost Calendar, Longjincheng, cloudy turning sunny.]

The first day after leaving the 'deep well'.

I have discovered the truth about this underground city.

(End of this chapter)