Super Righteous Player
Chapter 843 - 381 Chiron

Chapter 843: Chapter 381 Chiron

After the mask was removed, the image of "Mr. Kai" began to disintegrate from his face.

Like fish scales being scraped away, his entire body shattered from top to bottom, dissolving into nothingness. Even his hair and clothes completely disappeared without leaving any trace.

"In composition, I am indeed similar to him. Both of us are another person’s ’puppet.’"

Another unfamiliar voice arose from the other side of the room, "And indeed, I do have a slight connection with Professor Gray. So in that sense, you have indeed found the right person."

Despite the completely different voice, its tone matched Mr. Kai’s perfectly—a gentle, low, methodical, and comforting tone.

Salvatore looked in the direction of the voice.

It was a sturdy male centaur.

Or rather... half a one.

Unlike female centaurs, the lower half of a male centaur resembled a horse rather than a human. He had the four legs of a horse, and his muscles were like those of the most elite warriors—beneath his bronze skin were streamlined muscles that even conveyed a sense of beauty, not grotesquely protruding or showing any trace of fat.

But there was one problem.

It appeared as if the centaur was stuck in the wall... as if he had burst through it.

His "equine limbs" consisted only of the front pair.

And at about halfway down the horse’s body, it was cut off by something unknown.

But if one were to say he was "stuck in the wall," there was no trace of him on the other side of the wall.

And the cross-section of his limbs connected to a large oil painting... it was as if he had leaped out of the painting.

"Nice to meet you, Lord Salvatore."

The centaur spoke slowly, "Allow me to introduce myself.

"My true name is Chiron, ’Kai’ is the first syllable of my name. I wasn’t lying to you, I really am a namer... which is why I can use the magic of the School of Prophets.

"That’s because... this isn’t magic at all. It is actually my racial ability as a centaur. Rather, the magic of the Prophets was originally modeled after the abilities of the centaurs—the profession of a namer was originally called ’the Unspeakable’ in our centaur society. It’s a clan name, a legacy, not strictly a ’Transcendent’ profession."

"...But I remember, centaurs naturally adept at prophet magic are rare nowadays."

Salvatore retracted his astonished and somewhat impolite gaze, looking instead at the room’s decor, not at Chiron’s severed body, "May I ask... from what era are you?"

"Did you figure that out so quickly?"

Chiron said gently, "Indeed, I am not one of those ’hermits’ born in this era—those centaurs born this era who have never seen anyone outside their race. They could all be called ’hermits’ or ’the Hermits.’

"Just as Elves possess the ’Soul of Silver,’ inherently having a solidified state of soul; and you highborn of Aesirland also possess the gift of ’fast learning,’ able to quickly understand complex rituals and magic.

"Naturally, we centaurs also have racial abilities. We call it ’Adaptability.’

"In the Second Era, male centaurs’ bodies were much weaker than my current form, while female centaurs were full of fat and extremely large. This was for warmth, battle, and better offspring gestation, while males could eat less food and move more agilely.

"After entering the living desert, centaur skin turned bronze, and a layer of oily hard film appeared on the epidermis. It could lower body temperature, prevent water loss to the greatest extent, and significantly reduce size and increase fat... also for conserving food.

"Once centaurs entered the verdant and abundant Aesirland, their skin became fair and soft, resembling the appearance of Elves. Male centaurs quickly became robust, and female centaurs became valiant; at that time, every centaur was a god-like warrior.

"Depending on their ’clan name,’ some centaurs excelled in battle, some in leading others. Some excelled in magic, others in rituals—they were born adjusting their talents based on their name and ’needs.’

"And in this modern era, centaurs have become ’hermits,’ needing to avoid the gaze of others around them. Their size further reduced, their looks became friendlier, cuter, more similar to humans."

Chiron continued softly, "This is the core ability of centaurs, ’Adaptability’—our mastery of prophet magic also stems from this ability.

"Ancient centaurs excelled in combat, masters of both bow and spear; ’predictive abilities’ back then obviously differed from those in the era when rituals and magic were popular. And modern centaurs have new differences...

"Ah... sorry, I’ve gone into teaching mode again. You probably don’t want to know all this, right?"

Chiron apologized, interrupting himself mid-speech.

"Ah, it’s fine."

Salvatore tilted his head, somewhat hesitantly, "It’s quite refreshing. Knowledge about centaurs is almost nonexistent in books. Hearing this here can also be considered an expansion of knowledge."

"That’s because of the magic spell ’Erasure of Records.’ Before the ’hermits’ decided to retreat, they used this spell to delete all the books recording information about the centaur race.

"Um... If I continue, it might take all day. Let me address what you’re curious about first."

Chiron said warmly, "If I’m not mistaken... you want to know my relationship with Professor Wolf, right?"

"Yes."

Salvatore honestly responded, "From my nightmares, I saw how Professor Wolf influenced the internal politics of other nations. So, I immediately thought of ’Mr. Kai,’ who seemed to share similarities with Professor Wolf and also appeared quite suspicious.

"I wondered if ’Mr. Kai’ might also be another aspect of Professor Gray, and his acquaintance with Henry VIII was itself deceitful—or rather filled with schemes.

"If that is indeed the case, then the greatest obstacle to Princess Kafney’s ascension is not the Eldest Princess or the Third Prince, but another ’vessel’ of Professor Gray, the tragedian reaching out from the shadows."

"Your guess is partly correct. I do indeed have some connections with ’Professor Gray’ and ’Professor Wolf.’ But you are also wrong—I am less closely associated with them than you imagine..."

"Could you be his teacher?"

Salvatore, linking to the term "teaching illness," curiously inquired.

The centaur hanging in the painting nodded gently, "Close. But I am not Professor Gray’s teacher.

"I am the god he worships—Sophocles, who was also the mentor of Dionysus back in the day."

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