When Hastur chose to seal away his memories for a certain period of time, the Vessel of Stars became the most suitable choice for playing the role of the Lost One.
Everyone aboard the ship had already fallen asleep. Even the cooks and maids from the Yellow-Robed Monks were unable to detect any signs of activity from the Vessel of Stars.
Even if they truly noticed something, they would choose to remain silent.
After all, the Vessel of Stars was the divine envoy worshiped by the Yellow-Robed Monks organization, and could even be regarded as an incarnation of the Lord in Yellow.
After entering the Vessel of Stars, Hastur temporarily sealed away his memories so they would not affect the Vessel of Stars's portrayal of the Lost One.
Leaving the seaside behind and arriving at an unfamiliar port on the coast, the memoryless Vessel of Stars wandered blankly through the streets. His gaze drifted about as he looked at everything unfamiliar before him.
He was quite interested in the people and things that appeared before him, but after observing them for a while, he lost interest. It was as if some sort of barrier existed between him and this world, or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that he subconsciously maintained a distance from everything around him.
Because they were too fragile.
Yes, everything within sight was simply too fragile. He only needed to gently breathe out, and they would all turn into ashes and ruins before his eyes.
Even when merely walking quietly through the streets, he tried his best to maintain a certain distance from the people nearby.
Such behavior made him appear very strange among the crowd. Faced with the gazes directed toward him, he paid them no attention. His eyes merely surveyed everything before him with calm detachment.
"Sir, would you like to buy a book? We have all kinds of books you would never expect, and they even come with exquisite illustrations."
A young man who only reached his shoulder raised his head, revealing a slightly freckled nose as he cautiously and mysteriously introduced his business.
"You can take a look first, then decide whether you want to buy one."
The young man lifted one corner of the oversized coat wrapped around him. Inside the grayish-white coat were twenty sewn-on pockets, each containing two or three books.
Most of the book covers depicted naked men and women entwined together. Some showed bound female vampires, suspended female elves, and even illustrations involving animals and humans.
Under the hazy yellow light, these cover illustrations seemed to possess a different kind of allure, as though they were about to walk straight out of the pictures.
He merely calmly swept his gaze across each book cover without the slightest hint of interest appearing in his eyes.
The young man seemed to notice this as well. He lowered that corner of his coat and lifted the left side instead. There were still pockets there, and the pockets were likewise filled with books.
Unlike before, however, these covers were no longer composed of naked men and women and other strange creatures tangled together into masses of pale flesh.
Strange, sinister, and bizarre, those were the common themes of these covers. There were ancient castles beneath the moonlight, a half-eaten heart, predators hiding in dark corners, and scenes of creatures feasting while dividing up a corpse.
He looked carefully for a while, then extended the index finger of his right hand and pointed at one of the books. This book also had its own distinctive cover.
Beneath a sky illuminated by brilliant starlight stood a figure dressed in tattered yellow robes, tightly wrapping himself within them and presenting only his back to all who looked upon him.
With just one glance, he took a liking to the tattered yellow robe on the cover. He seemed to be lacking precisely such a suitable piece of clothing.
"Sir, you truly have excellent taste. This book, Children of the Stars, is one of the most popular forbidden books recently." A smile appeared on the young man's face. He then spread the five fingers of one hand and gestured. "It's only 5 soli right now. If you bought this through other channels, this book could sell for as much as 2 gold pounds!"
5 soli? 2 gold pounds?
These should be the currencies needed to purchase things in this world.
He did not have such things on him, but he wasn't lacking this currency, because there was plenty of it around here.
He merely loosely clenched his left hand, and two gleaming gold pounds appeared in his palm. He handed the money to the young man, who pulled out the book and placed it in his hand.
"Sir, are both of these gold pounds for me? You're truly the most generous gentleman I've ever met!" The young man's eyes widened when he clearly saw the two glittering gold pounds resting in his palm. He could hardly believe he had actually encountered such a generous buyer.
"Sir, it's been a pleasure doing business with you."
The young man's five fingers quickly closed around the coins, afraid that the generous gentleman before him might suddenly change his mind and take the money back.
"Sir, your generosity will surely bring you equally great fortune."
The young man closed his coat, walked two steps away, then turned around and bowed before finally leaving in high spirits while humming a little tune.
He felt no joy from the other party's gratitude. Those two gold pounds just now had merely been casually taken from the coat pocket of a nearby passerby.
If the young man wanted to thank someone, he should thank that rather wealthy passerby.
Children of the Stars had a black cover. The figure depicted on it now seemed even more mysterious and unfathomable than before. In that figure, he seemed to see something that could overlap with himself.
After staring at it for a long while, he finally opened the novel titled Children of the Stars beneath the moonlight.
The novel described an indescribable being who wandered among mortals. He was the Lord of the Sea of Stars in the distant starry sky. He was the King in Yellow.
He habitually wore tattered yellow robes and, late at night beneath the stars, would randomly appear without purpose before those fortunate enough to encounter him.
Sometimes, he generously rewarded everyone who encountered him, using his unfathomable authority to fulfill the desires hidden deep within their hearts.
At other times, he would play a game with them, a game in which one could wager money, honor, life, or even anything and everything that could possibly be wagered.
As long as he acknowledged the value of the wager, it would be a fair game. The winner took everything, and he had always been a winner.
"Readers who have reached this point, I offer you a sincere piece of advice. If you encounter a stranger wearing tattered yellow robes beneath the stars, leave immediately. No matter what kind of wager he uses to tempt you, you must never accept the game. Otherwise, even your soul will be lost to him, only to be casually discarded afterward."
Those were the exact words recorded in the book, a warning offered to those who came later.
Sometimes, he would also inflict punishment without any purpose whatsoever. Perhaps it was simply because a tree by the roadside looked unattractive, or perhaps because someone in the crowd glanced at him one time too many. His moods, his joy and anger, had never followed any rules.
He simply acted according to his whims. He would not feel pleased by anyone's praise, and even the most beautiful things were merely specks of dust in his eyes that could be destroyed at any moment.
After silently finishing the entirety of Children of the Stars, his gaze once again fell upon the book's cover.
It was still the same figure seen from behind, yet the feeling it gave him was now completely different from before. He seemed to truly see a King in Yellow descending from the starry sky and then walking among the mortal world.
...
Fitz Port was an ordinary coastal harbor. Everything here was exceedingly mundane. There was no prosperous commerce, no particularly noteworthy seafood, and even the pirates rampant in the nearby waters were thoroughly ordinary.
Philip was an ordinary dockworker. His family's circumstances were average, and his appearance was ordinary. No matter how one looked at him, there was nothing remarkable about him whatsoever.
Even his dream was ordinary.
He only wanted to travel to Backlund, the legendary City of Hope, and see whether the girls there were truly as the wandering poets sang of, whether they possessed voices as melodious as larks, dances magnificent enough to make peacocks spread their tails, skin softer to the touch than silk, and golden hair that even the sun itself would envy.
But even now, he had not saved enough money to leave the port and purchase a ticket aboard a ship bound for the Kingdom of Loen.
Tonight could be considered one of the rare extraordinary occasions in his otherwise ordinary life.
Yes, he had won the grand prize at Old Henry's Tavern: unlimited drinks, completely free, with no restrictions on quantity or time.
Although his alcohol tolerance was also quite ordinary, he stubbornly drank from six in the evening until three in the morning, only stopping when he could no longer drink another drop.
Staggering down the street, Philip hummed happily to himself. Whenever he saw the sour expression Old Henry made each time he drank another glass, he couldn't resist drinking one more.
And the uglier Old Henry's expression became, the more empty glasses piled up in front of Philip.
After all, back when Philip had worked for Old Henry, the old man had deliberately found excuses to dock his wages and had even humiliated him.
"Curved is the moon, round is the head, little is the man, bright is the long blade. Stab, stab the little man's round head, beneath the gaze of the curved moon..."
Philip hummed a tune as he staggered through the deserted streets.
He caught a glimpse, then looked again, and finally managed to clearly see the figure that had suddenly appeared before him.
It was a figure dressed in tattered yellow robes. The clothing seemed completely fused with his body. No matter how one examined him, it was impossible to see through the tattered yellow robes and make out the figure's actual appearance.
The more carefully one looked, the blurrier the figure became.
It gave the impression of morning mist, as though one could almost see through it, yet ultimately could not.
A strange person appearing in the middle of the night. That was Philip's thought as he prepared to walk around the figure from the side to avoid any possible trouble.
Yet the figure simply stood before him. No matter which direction Philip tried to pass from, as he walked, his body would somehow involuntarily draw closer to the figure step by step.
Intense unease and panic rose within Philip. Finally, he turned around, putting his back toward the figure in tattered yellow robes, and began running away, like a ship on the verge of capsizing desperately trying to escape a massive whirlpool at sea.
Yet as he ran, the figure in tattered yellow robes whose face could not be clearly seen appeared before him once again.
He turned around and started running in the opposite direction, but no matter what he did, he could not escape this place.
Eventually, all his strength left him, and he collapsed onto the ground. The figure in tattered yellow robes gradually grew larger within his vision until it occupied his entire field of view.
"Do you have any wishes?"
"??"
That voice was so indifferent, utterly devoid of even the slightest emotion, more bleak and chilling than the withered yellow of late autumn.
Philip didn't know what emotion he should use to face the scene before him. His heart was clearly filled with fear, yet after hearing that question, a faint trace of hope instead emerged within him.
Perhaps this unfathomably mysterious person before him really could fulfill the wish hidden deep within his heart.
Yes, even though this scene was somewhat eerie.
Because in some ancient stories passed down through generations, mysterious beings who fulfilled people's humble wishes would always appear.
For example, gods who walked among mortals.