Steel, Guns, and the Industrial Party in Another World - Chapter 434

Chapter 434: The Astrologer

TL: Etude Translations

“I offer my condolences to you and your mother,” Liszt sincerely said to the young man before him, having witnessed the tragic plight of the “witches” who had been judged.

“Thank you for saying that.”

Finding a sympathizer slightly improved Kebur’s dismal mood, even though it was from a stranger who couldn’t really help with his situation.

“So, what are you doing now?” Liszt continued the conversation.

“I sought help from my mentor, who agreed to assist by requesting higher-ups in the church to intercede at this banquet.”

“Oh, your mentor must be a respectable person to protect his student on such a sensitive issue.”

“Yes, I won’t deny your words; he is indeed a respectable person,” Kebur nodded. “But the main point is my mother was indeed wronged. She just became eccentric with age, not getting along well with the neighbors, which led to some malicious people framing her. It’s heart-breaking; she used to pray in fear at the mere mention of witchcraft or magic. How could such a devout person be a witch?”

After speaking, Kebur continued to stare in the same direction, seemingly reluctant to say more.

At that moment, the group of men Liszt had noticed earlier seemed to have finished their conversation. They raised their glasses and emptied the remaining drinks.

Then, one of them walked briskly towards Liszt.

Noticing Kebur’s trembling hand holding his glass and his unwavering gaze at the newcomer, Liszt guessed the man’s identity.

“No worries, Kebur! Put your racing heart back in place,” the man gestured reassuringly to Kebur.

“Teacher, really?”

Kebur instantly shifted from gloom to enthusiasm, almost jumping in excitement if not for the formality of the banquet.

“Yes!” Kebur’s mentor stroked his beard, exuding an air of ‘nothing is impossible with me.’

“Reverend Lambertong assured me he’d send someone to check the situation. Probably in less than three days, your mother will be home. It’s outrageous that these people dared such boldness even when the church’s tribunal sent inspectors.”

“Thank you, teacher! Thank you!” Kebur bowed and thanked profusely, overwhelmed with gratitude.

While the mentor and student conversed, Liszt observed Kebur’s mentor.

Unlike his somewhat frail student, the mentor was tall and robust, exuding authority. He wore a high-collared velvet robe with a shiny gold chain on his chest, short curly golden hair, and a carefully trimmed dense beard on his side face and chin. Two thick whiskers extended from below his nostrils to the sides of his face, and his confident, proud grey eyes were striking.

However, there was an oddity about him: his nose.

Even before he approached, Liszt noticed the man’s unusual nose, reflecting strangely under the candlelight.

Now, up close, Liszt saw clearly—the man’s nose was unusually smooth, clearly not made of flesh.

Was that… made of metal? Did he have a metal cover on his nose?

After the profuse thanks, Kebur proudly introduced his mentor to Liszt.

“Congratulations. It seems that things have turned around for your mother.”

“Thank you, esteemed guest. Allow me to introduce you—this is His Majesty King Collins’s royal astrologer, Viscount Degu Brar, and also my mentor.”

Astrology, an ancient profession, emerged from the belief that the stars’ movements in the sky were connected to the destinies of all beings on earth.

There was a time when astrology was considered a form of witchcraft, and astrologers, akin to witches, were almost persecuted by the church.

But it was the secular authorities who stood up to protect the astrologers, for the concept of fate is something everyone wants to know. Lords wanted to know the outcome of wars before they began, the wealthy wanted to know if their riches would grow or remain, and the common folk wished to know if they could live their lives peacefully.

Astrology was a need for everyone, and what the astrologers did was merely observe, not change anything. Thus, the profession was preserved and passed down.

For decades, astrologers observed and meticulously recorded the positions of the sun, moon, and stars in the sky, interpreting their various combinations as omens for significant upcoming events, such as large-scale natural disasters or the rise and fall of nations.

This wasn’t always accurate, but major historical events were often accompanied by peculiar astronomical phenomena. While some serious scholars claimed these phenomena were merely coincidental and recorded only because they happened around significant events, people, erring on the side of caution, still held a reverent awe for these possible connections.

Besides divination based on celestial bodies, astrologers had another important task: formulating or adjusting calendars based on the positions of the sun, moon, and stars. In an agriculture-dominated era, the accuracy of the calendar was crucial for guiding when to plant and harvest.

However, calendars often deviated over time, necessitating corrections by astrologers.

Almost every nation’s court and even within the church maintained astrologers. There were also many astrologers among the common folk, but those without official recognition were mostly seen as charlatans.

Viscount Degu Brar, the court astrologer, raised his glass to Liszt.

“Hello, guest from the Northwest Bay, I hope Collins leaves you with fond memories.”

Knowing Liszt’s identity from the host’s previous introduction, Liszt raised his glass in response, “Thank you for your hospitality.”

And for business, he added silently.

“Ah, I can see you’re curious about my nose,” Viscount Brar touched his nose, explaining proactively. “It’s a consequence of my youthful impulsiveness. I had an argument with another scholar over a mathematical problem, and unable to convince each other, we resorted to swords to decide the winner. I lost and also lost the nose my parents gave me, so I had to make a new one.”

Liszt was at a loss for words. “You indeed have skillful hands,” he complimented.

“Yes, but what I’m prouder of are my eyes,” the Viscount said.

Kebur, eager to flatter, quickly added, “The teacher has the eyes of an eagle. His astronomical data is the most detailed of our era.”

“Yes, haha haha!” Viscount Degu Brar patted his student and laughed heartily.