Meanwhile, on the opposite side of the planet, far away in a part of the world that is never even mentioned in everyday conversation...
A bustling city of transoceanic trade hosted an eagerly anticipated event: an auction of supernatural items that could not be found just anywhere. A spacious room with dull marble floors stretched out, crystal chandeliers glowed on the ceiling, creating a bluish light that reflected in the eyes of the guests; in the middle of the room was a stage with a long table on it. All eyes were on the stage, because that was where each item would be displayed.
Item after item was brought out, one by one, to the stage. There was a long sword with a gleaming blade, said to have been forged by a blacksmith from a lost land; there were pieces of armor that had supposedly been worn by a great general, although their origin was difficult to verify. There were also objects whose purpose was completely uncertain: rusty bones, small fetuses of unknown species, or organs from alien creatures.
Dialogue flowed among the participants; some whispered softly to their neighbors, while others spoke openly, showing off their courage. Every time an item was raised in the air, the excitement increased; the bidders competed using money as well as relying on luck and intuition.
The host stands on the stage with his face covered by a silver mask; the mask is plain, almost without decoration, covering only the upper part of his face. His voice is steady, heavy, and emphatic; he speaks with measured rhythm, unhurried but firm enough that everyone falls silent when he opens his mouth. "Ladies and gentlemen," he said, clapping his hands once in the air. "We have reached the long-awaited climax. What I am about to show you is not something to be taken lightly; it is something that many people in this room have been waiting for for a long time."
Several people in the front row leaned forward, trying to see more clearly. For a moment, the room was silent, filled only with the sound of bated breath. The guide then gave a signal and an assistant brought in a black suitcase-shaped box, which was carefully placed on the table; at first glance, the box itself looked like a valuable item. With a slow movement, the guide unlocked it, the sound of metal scraping echoing faintly. The lid of the box was lifted and its contents were finally revealed—everyone stared at what they saw... Just, a few pieces of faded paper.
The sheets were thin, their color yellowed like paper that had been left for centuries in a damp room; some of the ink on them had faded, with several words almost illegible. The corners of the paper looked fragile, something that would surely crumble if touched too hard, but it was precisely this fragile appearance that made the atmosphere in the room even more tense.
"Why is this valuable?" he continued. "Because everyone in this room knows that 'ANCIENT RELICS ARE NEVER INSIGNIFICANT'. Even if the entire contents of these pages turned out to be nothing more than a recipe for cooking omelets, their value would still not decrease! Why? Because everyone knows that items like this can still be resold at an equivalent price, or even higher. And if! If... just one sentence in it has real meaning, then that sentence is enough to change the life of a street beggar into a respected person. Remember! Just one sentence!"
It may sound like an electronic sales hyperbole, but what the host said contained not a hint of deception. The participants looked at each other with eyes gleaming like hyenas at night. The whispers grew louder. Some had prepared their plans long ago just for this item, while many guests were ready to bid even before the auctioneer opened the first bid. With the tension thickening, the auctioneer raised his hand, looked at all the participants, and announced, "The auction begins now. Who will make the first bid?"
"###," a woman who had never bid before issued an ultimatum to everyone. The total price remained a mystery, one that no one dared to challenge.
And just like that, the ancient artifact fell into the hands of someone whose identity was unclear.
••••••••••••••••••••
The train carriage looked ordinary with its faded paint, a long box shape without any striking decorations, like a cargo carriage used to transport heavy goods. While trains usually have doors on the left and right sides, this carriage only had two large doors at the rear. Although it looked simple on the outside, the materials used to construct it were very sturdy. It was difficult for anyone to imagine that behind this simple exterior lay something far more valuable than a king's trade goods.
Upon entering, the scene changes completely. The storage car has been converted into a workspace crammed with books and papers. A large table dominates the center, backed by the driver's wall; every area is filled with stacks of books, roughly bound sheets of paper, and scattered pens and ink. Along the walls, several wooden cabinets stand filled with more neatly arranged books.
Behind the large desk sat a person. Their body was short but stocky, a sign of their unique race, one rough palm supporting their wrinkled face; their long, thick beard was braided with metal rings. Then their long, dreadlocked hair was tied in a simple knot without regard for aesthetics. Every cell in his brain was focused on the dull sheets of paper in front of him. With sharp eyes and nimble fingers, he stripped every letter from the ancient relics; reading, writing, crossing out, revising, and engraving his newfound understanding.
The creature concentrated intensely. Every word he read made him fall silent for a long time, his lips moving slowly as if muttering strange sounds. The ancient language he was translating was among the easiest of the ancient languages; it had a simpler form and came with relatively more documentation. Even so, this work remained extremely difficult. There were no fixed rules, no grammatical structure to guide him, nothing more than a collection of words whose meanings had to be guessed one by one. Each line of text forced him to stop, ponder, and then write down his interpretation in his notes. Sometimes he had to weigh the meaning based on context, sometimes he just had to guess based on the similarity of the letters to other documents he had studied. The whole process was never certain, and was always fraught with the possibility of misinterpretation.
History records a story that has become a legend... Thousands of years ago, a lucky wizard discovered ancient relics in the form of intact books. The book was not too worn, not tattered in important parts, but still in a condition that could be read clearly. From there, the wizard gained knowledge, created extraordinary powers, and eventually established himself as one of the most powerful beings the world had ever known. The story is still told today, even though the wizard and his book have long been lost in the flow of time. The fact that he succeeded in proving the value of ancient papers never faded, and that is the aspect that makes his story still relevant; because whoever finds ancient records, they always prove them through pragmatic benefits—a single sentence can mean a new way of life, lost technical knowledge, or even unknown powers.
The dwarf took a deep breath, stroked his beard, then returned his gaze to the paper; the wrinkles on his forehead never fell, showing just how seriously he was working. Because every translation he made could either reveal a great secret or lead to misguidance, there was no room for "forgetting" or "tiredness." There was no other way but to keep guessing and trying every possibility until the pieces of the puzzle, which had been reduced to dust, could provide a picture, even if only a little—just one word from a combination of several letters was a great victory for him.
People in this era call this language "Anglophone"; the name sounds grand, almost like a sacred term, as if the language were truly God's creation. But in reality, it was just ordinary English; a language that was once so common but has now been lost from the collective memory of civilization. Only a handful of people here know the shape of the letters, and even then, only through fragments of ancient documents that are difficult to understand. Worse still, this is the easiest ancient language of all the ancient languages known.
Yes. This is a language that Liam has mastered without breaking a sweat.