Inside the Weiss Academy's main hall, scholars from all over gathered, and every seat was taken, leaving many to stand in the aisles and on the second-floor corridor.
"Distinguished scholars, seekers of wisdom, welcome to the Weiss Academy! Today, we gather here not for power, not for wealth, but for the purest and noblest pursuit—the light of truth!"
On the stage, a young man stood with his arms outstretched, his dark blue suit gleaming in the candlelight. His ears twitched slightly as he spoke passionately, and his eyes sparkled with boundless enthusiasm.
"Those of you present here will illuminate the boundaries of human knowledge with the torch of wisdom! Let us set aside regional prejudices and sectarian differences, for here, before the truth, we share only one common identity—explorers! May this grand gathering bear witness to the light of human reason!"
A round of enthusiastic applause immediately erupted from below the podium.
The man smiled, reached out and gently pressed his hand down, and continued his speech after everyone quieted down.
In a corner of the second-floor corridor, Coleridge leaned against a stone pillar, where the view was excellent, making it easy for her to search for her target.
At this moment, a mocking sneer was playing on the corners of the witch's lips.
From the young man's initial self-introduction, she learned his identity— Paul Greiman, the lord of Alda.
However, to her ears, this impassioned speech was nothing more than the clamor of ants—how dare these mortals speak so brazenly about "truth"?
Her icy blue pupils contracted slightly as she gazed at the scholars who were excited by his speech, her fingertips unconsciously forming a few ice crystals in her sleeve.
"How pathetic!" she sneered inwardly. "These blind people who can't even sense the power of the elements are trying to understand the essence of the world with a few formulas."
When Paul Greiman proclaimed "the light of reason," she almost laughed out loud—true power has always been hidden deep within ancient spells and bloodlines, and the so-called " science " that mortals spend their entire lives studying is nothing more than child's scribbles in the face of true arcane magic.
The light and shadow cast by the crystal chandelier swayed across her snow-white face, as if mocking this ridiculous farce.
"Speaking of which, I suddenly remembered a joke."
Paul Greiman on stage suddenly gave a self-deprecating smile and said loudly, "In a certain farm, there lived a particularly clever turkey. It discovered that its owner fed it and its companions every morning at 9 o'clock. Instead of drawing a conclusion immediately, it slowly observed and collected a great deal of evidence about the fact that it was fed at 9 o'clock in the morning: rainy days and sunny days, hot days and cold days, Wednesdays and Thursdays, all sorts of situations. Finally, it came to the following conclusion: the owner always feeds me at 9 o'clock in the morning."
At this moment, the young marquis suddenly paused, winked mischievously, and said, "Until the day of Advent, it believed that its conclusion was one of the eternal truths of the universe."
The room erupted in laughter.
Even Coleridge was amused by him.
"Hmph, this is interesting..."
The witch, who always presented an icy demeanor, didn't even realize that the corners of her mouth had uncontrollably turned up, like a spring mark drawn on an ice field. Two shallow dimples appeared on her fair cheeks, and the ice in her blue eyes melted away, rippling with a smile.
Clang! A young astrologer's chart fell to the ground with a loud thud.
Coleridge looked over and found the other person staring straight at him.
She then realized that she had "lost her composure" and immediately pulled her hood down to cover her face.
"We are like that clever chicken in the farm!" Paul continued his speech from the podium: "We try to find the truth of the world by relying on the shortcut of induction and summarization, but we do not know that some things may seem related but that does not mean that they are causally related."
His voice suddenly became loud, "Every time we think we have grasped the laws of truth, the world gives us a surprise like the coming of a new day!"
At this point, no one in the room could laugh anymore; the lord's words seemed to have taken on a somber tone.
Some people were already complaining in their hearts, so what they said next was a bit superfluous. Was it appropriate to say it in this kind of situation? Did everyone come all this way just to be given a cold shower?
"But that's the most valuable thing about Science!" Paul Greiman slapped the astrolabe on the display stand, making several bronze planet models sway gently. "We are willing to be that turkey that keeps observing and doubting, using today's discoveries to overturn yesterday's conclusions. Perhaps we will never reach the ultimate truth in our lifetime, but every time we correct a mistake—" He suddenly threw the bronze astrolabe on the display stand into a box at his feet with a clatter.
"We are one step closer to the truth!"
As soon as Paul finished speaking, the entire auditorium seemed to be set ablaze. At first, there were sporadic applause from the back rows, but soon it spread like wildfire throughout the entire venue.
The scholars stood up in unison, the older ones clapping their aged hands until they were red, while the younger ones stomped their feet excitedly, the heavy oak floorboards echoing like thunder. Some even tossed heavy books into the air, their pages fluttering like white doves in the sunlight.
The applause lasted for a full three minutes. Several elderly men with white hair took off their glasses and wiped their eyes, their wrinkled faces revealing a long-lost youthful enthusiasm.
Coleridge, standing in the second-floor corridor, unconsciously gripped the railing tightly. She hadn't expected this seemingly vulgar lord to have such awareness—even though she still thought he was overestimating himself.
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"Huh? That's..."
Coleridge's eyes darted around, catching sight of someone. Even as Paul delivered his address, the witch's eyes never left the hall.
That figure, that movement... it seems to be Alvis.
"Next, please welcome Mr. Terry Cable, the distinguished astrologer and astronomer from Weiss Academy, to introduce his great discoveries on celestial motion in recent years!"
Paul's opening remarks have ended, and the conference is finally about to enter its substantive phase.
Amidst enthusiastic applause, from Horn Bay Collins astrologer Terry Cable walked nervously onto the stage.
Paul patted him on the shoulder, gave him an encouraging look, and then stepped down from the podium.
Coleridge frowned in the second-floor corridor as Paul Greiman walked toward the man she suspected was Alvis.
This is a bit troublesome. As the local lord, Glaeman is bound to be a focus of attention. If he gets too close to Alvis, it will be difficult for me to make a move.