The Innkeeper

Chapter 2016: Fortune-cookie

Very simply speaking, Lex did not even know what the Governor was probing for with his question, so he could not even begin to fathom how he was supposed to answer. Fortunately, he didn’t need to come up with an original answer. Lotus had asked Eclipse a question about the Primordial Garden, and she had given an answer that flew right over Lex’s head. So... he could just say the same thing, but with his own added twist.

"Not just yet," the Innkeeper answered in a casual tone. "There are so many interesting laws in the universe that I am attracted to, such as the laws that allow the Primordial Garden to produce Primordial energy. Once I’m done copying all the laws I find interesting, I’ll form some kind of cycle where the flow of the laws towards deliberate imbalances in the realm, forming a complete system.

"Compared to rigid, immovable laws, I think such a set up is much better. Of course, first I need to finish replicating all the laws I find interesting. I’m quite looking forward to having Voidwoven features in my realm."

The last thing he mentioned, the Voidwoven features, were an aspect of upgrades to the realm laws that Lex had seen in the Midnight Realm Management Panel. That would allow the realm to move through the Void undetectable to even Dao Lords.

Unfortunately, that feature was so expensive, it did not even have a price just yet because Lex had not unlocked the relevant currency for it.

Lex thought that mentioning it might have a strong impact, especially since it was followed by an amended version of what Eclipse had told him about her realm. In a way, Lex was not wrong.

The Governor was stunned, unable to respond, and unable to comprehend what he had just heard.

"What’s the matter?" the Innkeeper asked with a soft chuckle. "Did I say something wrong?"

The Governor snapped out of his stupor, and looked at the Innkeeper again, but this time through a new lens entirely. Although he did not know if achieving such a thing was even possible, he certainly admired the Innkeeper’s imagination. For now, though, he treated his words as if he had cracked a joke - up until a time such that he had reason to believe otherwise.

"Not at all, not at all," the Governor said with a soft smile. "I quite admire your gallant spirit. Even at my station, with all the support I have, this is not a step I can take. Well, it’s not just that I don’t dare to take it, but also that I’m nowhere near strong enough to brave that kind of strain."

The Innkeeper looked at the Governor, and then looked out his office window, drawing the Governor’s gaze towards the Inn as well.

"You belittle yourself by saying such a thing," the Innkeeper said, his sight locking in on some of the mortal guests at his Inn. "I think that for one such as yourself, this is something you would easily dare to do, if you really wanted to. Even mortals, the fragile, delicate things that they are, dare to put their feeble lives on the line in pursuit of their desires. How, then, can someone such as yourself not dare to do something you desire? It is simply a matter of not desiring it enough to overcome the initial resistance the difficulty of the task creates. On the day you decide to take action, you will find that many things, many obstacles are all arbitrary."

The Innkeeper continued to look out at the people, his words lingering in the silence that followed, their meaning deep and profound, their effect longlasting. In truth, the reason Lex looked out was because he decided to employ what he liked to call the Fortune-cookie tactic: say something vague that sounded like it had many implications, and allow the listener to decipher the meaning on their own.

The reason, then, that he had to look away while employing the Fortune-cookie tactic was because he felt like it made the Innkeeper seem even more profound, adding another layer to the message within the Fortune-cookie.

Clearly his tactic worked, because the silence that followed lasted a lot longer than just a few moments. It was the silence that indicated contemplation, so Lex did not break it, allowing the Governor to continue thinking.

In truth, the Governor was not as focused on the message itself, though that too had an impact on him. It was true - even mere mortals had the courage to risk their lives, so how could he not? It was just that he hadn’t decided to take such a step yet.

That was not the reason he was silent, though. The Governor, instead, was taking this time to ponder if the reason that the Innkeeper kept so many mortals around was to remind himself of the courage of the weak. A direct comparison between a Dao Lord and a mortal could not technically be made.

The consequences of the fall of a mortal, and the fall of a Dao Lord were not even remotely similar - at least on a universal scale. Personally, though, perhaps the amount that it mattered to both might be the same. The difference was that mortals were so weak and prone to dying, they considered it an inevitability. Dao Lords, however, were more expected to live on forever than to actually die. That small thing created a huge shift in perspective among both.

For a mortal to risk his life was natural, because death was not far away anyway. For an Immortal, or a Dao Lord, it was unnatural, because in their long lives, it was entirely possible or even probable to make up for whatever loss they suffered if only they lived on. Risking their lives was more like a loss-making deal where the benefits might not match the risk undertaken.

Then again, not everything in life could be calculated through such an equation, not the value of everything could not be calculated so simply.

There were very few things that could actually threaten a Dao Lord’s life - at least in the universe as it was at that moment - so for them to risk their lives was a very unnatural thing. A comparison, thus, between a Dao Lord and a mortal was fundamentally incorrect.

But then again... maybe it was such a thought process to start with that had caused the Governor’s growth to slow down. With all of time available to him, it made little sense to risk his life, or to take risks at all for his growth. Slowly and steadily he was bound to grow, so he stopped taking risks.

Such a subtle shift in perception was almost impossible to avoid over the course of countless years. Had the Innkeeper, then, kept such a mindset alive by remaining close to mortals?

But for most Dao Lords, it was almost impossible to resonate with such thoughts because they would originate from races that were born immortal. Very, very few Dao Lords were originally born as mortals.

Was the Innkeeper one such Dao Lord? The Governor had no idea, but he felt like he’d gotten a peek into his mindset at least.