One-Eyed Monster

”It’s that simple!” Igor declared, brimming with confidence. He believed he had made his explanation crystal clear this time.

However, merely being clear was far from sufficient. He needed people to understand it completely.

Methods to achieve such complete understanding were not abundant, at least not in Igor’s memory.

Among these methods, Igor knew only one: using analogies, drawing comparisons, and giving examples.

Though using examples might seem primitive, it was incredibly effective in any situation. This was based on the idea that the simpler an example, the easier it was for people to accept. Instead of spending all one’s energy elaborating on a hollow and seemingly boring theory, it was better to illustrate it with an example. Examples were straightforward and readily accepted. They substituted these hollow theories with common, everyday phenomena. These simple phenomena could then guide an individual toward understanding the underlying theory, allowing them to grasp the principle profoundly, embedding it deep within them. This helped them understand these grand yet vague principles.

The simpler something was, the more easily it was accepted. This straightforward principle had always been foolproof for Igor, and he believed this time would be no exception. He intended to use this simple method to perfectly illustrate the original intention of this spell.

Of course, Kuren was eager to hear Igor’s detailed explanation. From Igor’s demeanor, he could see that the boy had engaged in a lengthy prelude, building an atmosphere for the explanation to follow. It was apparent from all the minor details that Igor was preparing for a very long speech.

This naive boy was not yet adept at hiding his excitement; it was plain to see, transparent to any observer.

However, the young should pay the price for their recklessness. They had to understand that the world continued to exist because people knew how to conceal ugliness. The world is not as beautiful as it seems, with ugliness ever-present; it has just constantly been concealed.

Igor obviously didn’t understand this yet. This naive boy was still in a very rudimentary state of thinking. Kuren felt it was fate that had brought Igor to Guru Mountain.

Fate intended this naive boy to transform in this land of right and wrong. Fate intended him to complete the inheritance of these forgotten spells here. Fate wanted him to witness the hideous face of the world here... So, no matter what was about to happen, Igor and the true face of this world were destined to meet here. As for whether the naive Igor could withstand it, that was truly hard to say. Kuren felt their presence in this Inner World was already very significant, and his guidance at this moment was crucial...

Igor could sense all of Kuren’s thoughts and feelings, so Kuren allowed this particular notion only a fleeting presence in his mind. He didn’t have time to ponder the reasons behind this just yet. For now, Kuren quietly watched Igor. He first wanted to hear what Igor was going to elaborate on; such questions about reasons were matters for later.

Although time was pressing and the progress of the Inner World was slow, Kuren was still ready to take another gamble.

”Have you ever seen a Painter painting or a Wandering Bard telling legends?” Igor asked, affecting a passionate tone. Honestly, his speaking skills were hardly up to par, filled with such artificiality that even the tone of his question sounded unnatural.

However, Igor knew that interaction was the best way to deliver a speech. So, even if he wasn’t proficient in it, he had to brace himself and try. He would never be satisfied without trying. Rather than regret it later, it was better to force himself to try now. That was Igor—he never easily gave in, even if his methods of resistance were quite crude.

”I have. What does this have to do with the spell?”

”Of course, it’s related!” Igor clapped his hands. He had been waiting for this. As soon as the other party asked a question, it served as a lead-in, giving him an opportunity to continue. This was a common technique of ’throwing out a brick to attract jade,’ a standard trick for building to a reveal.

Kuren sighed with relief. Igor was as naive as ever. For someone lacking confidence in a particular area, a naive person could only try to improve through endless imitation. However, such imitation was remarkably clumsy, something an expert couldn’t bear to watch even for a moment, because imitation, after all, was just imitation. It would always seem unnatural.

”Painters painting, Wandering Bards singing poems—these are their skills. These skills are like spells; those who don’t practice them will never understand.”

Kuren wanted to see what kind of imitation Igor would attempt next. For now, although Igor’s performance was a bit clumsy, it wasn’t entirely unbearable; at least it was still watchable and listenable.

”All skills are largely the same in principle. They share a common meaning and purpose, differing only in details and methods. A Painter’s skill serves to create beautiful paintings; a Wandering Bard’s musical skill makes their stories more captivating; a Wizard’s spellcasting methods allow them to manifest hidden powers more concisely. These are the commonalities—these skills, regardless of profession, whether used by professionals or non-professionals, all serve people.”

Although the opening of Igor’s speech seemed rigid, a clear sign of clumsy imitation, the content he laid out had substance. This made Kuren admire him a little. Despite the boy’s naivety, he certainly had a good deal of knowledge. The way he spoke of the similarities and differences in these skills made them sound very approachable.

This was the power of using examples; Igor’s approach was genuinely effective.

However, the explanations he had offered so far didn’t yet touch upon the crucial factor for solving the problem.

”I’ve already spoken about the commonalities, so there’s no need to elaborate further on the differences. The myriad forms these things take are, in the end, superficial. Although their manifestations can be vastly different, these are essentially minor distinctions.”

”You’re right about that,” Kuren nodded, finding some truth in what Igor was saying.

”So, isn’t it natural then?”

”What?”

”Think about it. Painters, Wandering Bards, no matter who—what is the purpose behind them desperately trying to express themselves?”

”Those divinely skillful paintings, those fantastically embellished stories, those mysteriously cast spells—what are they all for?”

”Why do Painters desperately hone their painting techniques? Why do Wandering Bards try every conceivable method to enhance the beauty of their melodies? Why do Wizards exhaust all means to obtain secret manuals for casting spells?”

With three consecutive questions, Igor’s final interactive push carried an insistent, almost aggressive pressure.