Chapter 174: Collapse

The hall was as if a giant silence spell had been cast.

No one spoke.

Or rather, no one knew what to say.

Everyone’s brain was like an overloaded alchemical engine, running frantically on the verge of collapse.

Collapse.

This word uttered by Klein was like an invisible sledgehammer, smashing the last bit of what they called “common sense” in their minds.

Possibility collapses into reality.

Observation determines existence.

This was no longer physics.

This was philosophy.

This was theology.

It was some kind of incomprehensible rambling from the very bottom of the world.

On the stage, Laurent sat slumped on the floor, his eyes staring blankly at the magnificent crystal chandelier on the ceiling.

The light emitted by the chandelier was no longer a warm brightness in his eyes.

But a swarm of ghosts, both particles and waves, mocking him.

He had lost.

He had lost more completely than in any way he could have imagined.

Klein had used the simplest experiment, the most basic logic, to show everyone a cruel fact.

That all of them, including himself, had a fundamentally wrong understanding of this world.

“No…”

A hoarse groan escaped Laurent’s throat.

“This isn’t real…”

“The nature of the world shouldn’t be like this…”

“It should be definite, it should follow causality…”

His mind began to descend into chaos.

In his mind’s eye, the magnificent edifice representing the classical physics building was crumbling, inch by inch.

The “aether” cornerstone that supported the building had long since been shattered.

He was deeply bound to the laws of physics he had believed in his entire life.

When these laws were proven to be lies, his spiritual world also met its doomsday.

“Pfft.”

A soft sound.

Beside Laurent, the goatee-ed academician who had been shouting the loudest suddenly stiffened.

His eyes widened abruptly, his pupils dilating.

Then, under the horrified gaze of everyone, his head exploded without warning like a ripe watermelon.

Red and white splattered all over the main stage.

The brutal cognitive reshaping was once again displayed before everyone.

Only this time, the price was a Ninth Circle Mage.

“Ah—!”

A scream finally broke the dead silence.

Several nobles closest to the stage fainted from fright.

The entire hall instantly descended into chaos.

People screamed, pushed, and shoved, frantically rushing towards the exit.

As if staying here for another second would cause their own heads to explode as well.

“Quick! Control the scene!”

Samuel was the first to react, shouting at the deacons beside him.

Several high-circle mages immediately joined forces to cast a mass calming spell and an order barrier, barely preventing a stampede.

Lia watched the messy main stage with a blank expression.

Klein had returned to her side at some point.

He took off his own black mage robe and draped it over her shoulders, covering her body, which was a little cold from the shock.

“Let’s go.”

He took her hand, his voice sounding very calm.

Lia let him lead her through the chaotic crowd towards a side door.

No one dared to stop them.

The way people looked at them was filled with awe and fear.

As if they were looking at two demon gods who had walked out of hell.

“Klein.”

Only after they reached an empty corridor did Lia find her voice again.

“That academician…”

“He chose this path himself.”

Klein’s tone was cold.

“When he used the truth as a tool for factional struggle, he should have been prepared for the truth’s backlash.”

Lia was silent.

She knew Klein was right.

But she still felt a little… uncomfortable.

“What about Laurent?”

Lia looked back at the closed door.

“He won’t die.”

Klein said.

“Why?”

“Because his spirit was already dead when he designed that scam.”

Klein stopped and turned to look at her.

“For a scholar, the death of the spirit is the end, more so than the death of the body.”

Lia looked into Klein’s deep blue eyes.

She suddenly felt that this man was sometimes as gentle as water, and sometimes as cold as ice.

The two walked out of the Academy.

The wind and snow outside had stopped at some point.

The dark clouds had dispersed, and a faint ray of winter sunlight pierced through, shining on the accumulated snow and reflecting a dazzling light.

Lia got into the carriage, shutting out the cold and noise from the outside world.

Only then did Lia feel her tense nerves relax a little.

She shrank into the soft seat, wrapping herself tightly in Klein’s mage robe, leaving only her small head exposed.

“I’m a little cold.”

She said.

Klein sat down beside her and pulled her into his arms.

“How about now?”

“Better.”

Lia leaned against his warm chest, listening to his steady and powerful heartbeat, her mood gradually calming down.

“Klein.”

“Mmm?”

“Did we… do something wrong?”

Lia’s voice was a little lost.

“We laid the truth of this world bare before them.”

“But it seems… they weren’t ready to accept it.”

Klein was silent for a moment.

“It’s not our fault.”

He said.

“The wheels of an era must always move forward. Someone will always be crushed under them.”

“We were just the ones who gave the wheels a push.”

He looked down at the confused eyes in his arms.

“Lia, do you regret it?”

Lia was taken aback.

She thought about it.

If she could do it all over again, would she still voice those advanced theories?

The answer was yes.

She couldn’t bear to live in a world built on lies and fallacies.

“No regrets.”

She said.

“But, I’m thinking… maybe we can try a gentler way next time.”

“For example?”

“For example, not publicly detonating someone’s worldview in a hall of several thousand people.”

Lia muttered under her breath.

“Next time, we’ll only detonate it in the bedroom.”

Klein said with a straight face.

Lia’s face instantly turned red.

“I’m talking about academics!”

She hammered his chest with her hand, but with little force.

Klein chuckled softly and took her mischievous hand.

“I’m also talking about academics.”

He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it lightly.

“About the ‘observer,’ I still have many questions I’d like to discuss with you in depth.”

“After all, I believe you must have guessed its existence long before I did.”

The carriage moved smoothly along the streets of the Royal Capital.

Outside the window, the whole world seemed to be whispering.

“Observation determines existence.”

“Wave-particle duality.”

“Collapse.”

These strange words, like a virus, spread rapidly through every conversing mage, every running messenger.

An unprecedented storm of thought was brewing.

And at the center of the storm, the two instigators were now embracing in a warm bedroom.

“Klein.”

“Mmm?”

“You spoke really well on the stage just now.”

Lia praised sincerely.

“Especially that line, ‘You should take your brains out for an airing.'”

“You liked it?”

“Mmm.”

“Then I’ll say it more often in the future.”

“…Never mind.”

Lia buried her face in his chest.

“I’m afraid you’ll get beaten up.”

“They can’t beat me.”

Klein’s tone was calm, yet filled with absolute confidence.

Lia couldn’t help but laugh.

She suddenly felt that all the cognitive reshaping, all the torrents of the era, had become less frightening.

As long as this embrace was still here.

As long as this person was still here.

Even if the world really did collapse, she probably wouldn’t be afraid.