Chapter 13: The Republic of Ascar

Who exactly are you...?

Phyllis never imagined that one day she would hear such a question from someone else.

In her own mind, she was just one among billions—a person of ordinary lineage, ordinary appearance, with a mundane profession and an equally mundane salary.

She was the most common worker ant, the most familiar worker bee, living a life much like everyone around her: toiling daily to make ends meet while nurturing a few small hobbies to lift her spirits, a life marked by simplicity and occasional troubles.

As for the so-called “special abilities” the ghost spoke of appearing within her... rather than being special herself, Phyllis felt that the original “Feliciana” must have been the extraordinary one.

After all, whether from Massimo or others, the information hinted that “Little Phyllis” seeing ghosts was not a first occurrence. And the reason she was injured might well have been because she tried to dispel a ghost clinging to someone else, which caused misunderstanding and, through a twist of fate, led to her being pushed down a slope and hitting her head.

Regarding the newly discovered “gift for languages”... perhaps it was because this child’s environment was too narrow, and she had yet to encounter a scholar like Professor Palleusso, who spoke many tongues, so naturally, the conditions to trigger such a talent had not yet arisen.

Having sorted through these thoughts, Phyllis made no intention of revealing all this to the ghost beside her. Instead, she shifted the subject onto him.

“No matter who I really am, as you see, I’ll probably be leaving Aska tomorrow. What about you?”

She shrugged indifferently, jumping off the bed as she began searching for anything suitable to pack, casually asking, “You’re an Askan, right? Planning to stay here, near your family?”

Professor Palleusso’s face flickered with a momentary awkwardness at her counter-question, but he quickly masked it, clearing his throat before stating his true intention.

“I want to make a deal with you.”

Seeing the girl turn her gaze back to him, the elderly yet tall ghost straightened his spine and spoke solemnly: “Since you are not the original Feliciana, and you lack much common knowledge, I can remain by your side to assist you.”

Phyllis chuckled at his audacity. There was no need to pretend to be a child in front of him now, so she retorted in her usual manner: “Isn’t it just because you’re afraid of the dirty things outside and think it’s safer to stay with me?”

“But you can’t deny it benefits us both,” Professor Palleusso said unabashedly, lifting his chin with confidence. “Knowledge is priceless, and I offer far more than just languages. If you wish, my lifetime of learning can help you stand firm anywhere!”

Phyllis understood he was right.

Even though she had asked many basic questions before, her understanding of this world was still incomplete. Having a learned teacher—visible only to herself and posing no threat—by her side would undoubtedly make her future life easier.

Yet, was seeking refuge truly his only condition?

“I prefer straightforward contracts and hate haggling afterward,” she said bluntly. “If there are any other terms, you’d better say them now. If you add conditions later, whether I agree will depend on my mood.”

---

As expected, the old professor blinked slowly and a smile crept beneath his white beard.

“Do you know? I’m seventy-eight years old, older than the current pope! Ever since I entered Aska University in my youth and first read Old Sakadus’s ‘Natural History’ and Victor Demagus’s ‘Great Mirror,’ I had a single dream—I wanted to write a book like that.”

Beneath his sparse white brows, his deep-set eyes shone brightly. “Arithmetic, geometry, logic and grammar, astronomy and geography, flora and fauna... whether secret texts held by the Church or forbidden books compiled by heretics, I sought to obtain and devour them all, imprinting them upon my mind! All to organize the most advanced knowledge of this world into a volume!”

“I devoted my entire youth to traversing every land I could reach—from the western Marei to the eastern Sky Ridge, from the northern ice fields to the southern desert—until my knees could bear no more, and then I began to write and compile… Even if it could never become as great as ‘Natural History’ or the ‘Great Mirror,’ I gave it my all to complete it!”

“I had finished! Finished it!! But who would have thought it would be destroyed for such a ridiculous reason!”

His voice grew impassioned again. “I cannot accept that result! It was my life’s work, the only proof centuries hence that I ever existed! I will not allow it to vanish like that!”

The ghost’s intense grievance seemed to shift the very air pressure around him. Standing before his fury, Phyllis even felt a slight difficulty breathing.

“I admit, when I saw my book destroyed, when I felt those robbers stab a dagger into my chest, I truly harbored hatred for the Lord. I could not understand why He would toy with my fate this way—taking my life was bad enough, but to steal what I cherished most... those books were more precious than my life.”

Suddenly, the ghost turned toward the girl standing by the bed. For a moment, his eyes, once glowing red, slowly returned to normal.

“…I was already dead in despair, but I found I was not entirely gone. I still remembered the letters, every word of the book was etched in my mind—they had not yet vanished from this world… And then I met you, a living soul who can see me, hear my words, and still pick up a pen…”

“You will never understand how overjoyed I was to hear you say you wanted to go to a convent with a scriptorium!”

The old man’s tone was filled with hope as he cautiously inched closer to the girl.

“I have never feared death... it is the inevitable end for all, the boundary mortals cannot cross. I do not wish to transcend that boundary... What I fear is to have spent a lifetime in toil and yet gain nothing.”

“My book, the knowledge I have acquired—if it can remain, if it can be spread—it might change many things.”

He lowered his head, meeting the girl’s complex gaze. “I will teach you all I have learned in my life, and I have but one condition—you help me finish this book again and deliver it to the library of Aska University… No, to any university on the continent! Anywhere that will preserve it well, anywhere others can read it…”

His voice, laden with pleading, fell silent in the room.

“…………”

“I understand your intent, and I accept.”

After a long pause, Phyllis finally pressed her dry lips together and spoke softly, “But I must state in advance that I cannot guarantee success, Professor Palleusso. Life is full of surprises. With the plague raging outside, I cannot even promise to reach the convent safely… Even if I am fortunate enough to settle there, I might still lose my life to illness or accident…”

“What I can promise is that, within my power, I will do my best to record the knowledge you wish to preserve.” She reached out her hand toward the ghost. “If you accept, I am very willing to make this deal with you.”

“...Of course!”

---

Professor Palleusso hesitated briefly at her outstretched hand, then, realizing what she said, eagerly reached out as well.

“Pleasure to collaborate, my friend!”

***

Having resolved the matter of the ghost beside her, Phyllis finally began preparing for tomorrow’s journey.

Though “preparing” was a stretch—she truly had little to ready. Because Massimo had died of the plague, and she was sent to Master Giovanni’s home without anything.

The basic necessities—clothing and food—were already arranged by Isabella, so she herself had nothing more to do.

Of course, nearly half a month had passed, and the lice at home were likely starved by now. Some clothes and bedding could be taken, but to be safe, Phyllis refrained from making such a request.

According to Massimo’s will, the house would belong to the city’s stonemasons’ guild once his granddaughter Feliciana formally became a nun.

It might become guild property, be sold, or become a member’s residence... After that, this family’s final traces in this world would likely be erased by those who come after.

Standing before the familiar yet strange stone house, Phyllis could barely express the turmoil in her heart.

“...Is there anything inside you want to keep as a memento?”

Beside her, the elderly monk in a gray robe spoke gently: “If there is something you want to take, now is perhaps the last chance. I recall you mentioned a spinning top your father made by hand. Don’t you want it as a keepsake?”

Phyllis stared fixedly at the small window on the second floor of the house. Her mind flickered through images of wooden animal toys and the wooden spinning top carved with an ‘F’, but in the end, she shook her head.

“No, thank you...” She lowered her gaze and took small steps to the monk’s side. “Sorry to waste your time, Brother Salvatore. We can leave now.”

The gray-robed monk’s eyes shifted from the stone building downward, lingering briefly on the hood covering the girl’s head, then raised his hand to touch her forehead.

“Then let us go,” he said. “Master Giovanni has arranged a caravan waiting at the city gate. Hopefully, we’ll reach Velis soon.”