Gun of Ashes-Chapter 473 - 84 Memory Palace

The dark clouds obscured the silhouette of the bright moon, sketching out a silver-gray band at the erratic edges. The night was so heavy, exuding a repressive deathly silence.

The gray-black rocks stood like protruding tombstones, disorderly risen at the edge of the coast, their sharp stone edges shredding the waves to pieces. The black giant waves shattered into hundreds of foams, then dispersed into the black crevices.

The man was lying on the edge of a small boat, one hand hanging into the sea, feeling the bone-chilling cold, sinking into the heart of the storm.

Everything swayed gently with the motion of the waves, as if it were a mother’s cradle; she sang softly, trying to soothe the man’s fury, wishing him eternal rest here.

It seemed like such an end wouldn’t be too bad...

The man thought.

Blood oozed from wounds, the heart beat weakly until it slowly calmed down. Those gray-blue eyes reflected the burning night, finally imprinting everything deep into memory. 𝒇𝓻𝓮𝓮𝙬𝙚𝒃𝒏𝓸𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝓬𝓸𝒎

The waves continued to sway, violently yet slowly, like a raging beast, until everything on the sea surface was devoured.

Thus, he was dragged into the sea, falling, relentlessly falling, crashing into the deep seabed, feeling excruciating pain.

...

Lorenzo opened his eyes; there was no hazy drowsiness, and no time to admire how the ceiling looked this time. He curled up on the soft bed, as if falling from a height, though the pain from the impact came from his mind.

He clutched his head, gritting his teeth, trying not to let out any cries of pain.

This state lasted for a long time; it seemed that the pain had subsided, and only then did Lorenzo slowly stretch his body and take a deep breath.

His head tilted to one side, faint light falling from outside the window. It was already daylight, but Lorenzo could still smell the fresh dampness in the air from the rain, accompanied by those dripping sounds; it seemed that the heavy rain had not yet stopped.

That was a strange dream.

After a long time, Lorenzo slowly thought.

There are always some strange aftereffects from battling demons, such as mental disorders or physical pain. Generally speaking, Lorenzo wouldn’t care about those things, as he is a Demon Hunter, possessing resilience that’s excessively outrageous. Therefore, he often disregards many symptoms.

But at this moment, Lorenzo realized his own changes, such as the headache. He had this symptom even before the clash with Lawrence, this occasional headache. Delving deeper, it all seemed to start when Lorenzo killed that burning demon.

That burning demon... Lorenzo remembered its name was Horner.

Lorenzo had killed so many demons that they were uncountable, yet Horner was always remembered. It’s not that Horner was special, but because Lorenzo killed him in the Gap.

There are many mysteries surrounding the Gap, but during that time Lorenzo found another way to completely kill a demon. By destroying this pitiful being from the Gap, his entity simultaneously perished. In that chaotic death, Lorenzo also gained some of Horner’s memories. They intertwined, followed by the onset of Lorenzo’s headaches.

It all seemed to have started then; the battle in the Gap triggered something in Lorenzo, something he did not yet understand.

He was pondering these things until Heracles knocked on the door.

"Good morning."

Heracles was dressed in a brown nightgown, holding a large fluffy chinchilla in his arms.

"Good morning." Lorenzo nodded slightly.

"How are you feeling today? Feeling better? If so, we can start."

Heracles glanced at Lorenzo’s complexion. Although it was still quite bad, it looked better than yesterday. The once joyful detective was gone, and the now silent him seemed even more reliable than before.

"That memory palace, right?" Lorenzo asked.

"Of course, though I’m no hypnotist. I’ve taught you the method, now it’s up to you to find those lost memories yourself... How’s your progress?" Heracles asked.

There was a bit of time last night. Before sleeping, Heracles had explained to Lorenzo the basic process of establishing the memory palace. It might take a long time for ordinary people to learn and might not even reach Heracles’s level, but Lorenzo was different; surprises never seemed to be in short supply with him.

"Not bad, I just have an approximate understanding, but I haven’t started trying yet," Lorenzo said.

Heracles was quite looking forward to what Lorenzo could achieve next. He signaled Lorenzo to come, then turned to lead the way.

"The memory palace...in the end, it’s a bit like a self-hypnosis. Through constant suggestion, making these extraordinary memories become instinct, just like a skilled swordsman. They don’t need to think about how to face enemies during battle, they just follow their body’s reactions. That instinctive warning and the skills honed over many years help them kill enemies.

Moreover, the memory palace itself is not specifically a palace," Heracles said.

"To be precise, it’s just a metaphor, a symbol, a place we can instinctively recall no matter the situation."

"So what’s your ’palace’?" Lorenzo asked curiously.

Heracles paused in his steps, then turned back to look at Lorenzo meaningfully before saying.

"Take a guess, aren’t you a detective?"

There’s nothing much to guess, Lorenzo said directly.

"The ship from your shipwreck."

"Close enough."

Heracles didn’t continue talking about that, but returned to discussing the memory palace again.

"This is a very abstract concept, after all, it exists in our minds, not as a specific tangible object. Like the curse of knowledge you mentioned, no matter how I describe it to you, you can’t imagine my ’palace.’ "

He said as he pushed open another secret door, which was so well-hidden that it had brass hangers with coats hanging from them. If Heracles hadn’t pushed it open, Lorenzo wouldn’t have realized there was a door here.

"Come on."

Heracles directly walked into the secret room. The secret room wasn’t large; it could barely be considered a secret room, with space just enough to seat two people.

Lorenzo sat in one of the chairs, puzzled. There was no light in the dim room, and Heracles sat across from him, with only a small table between them.

"What are we doing?" Lorenzo asked.

"Memory palace... I usually call this the Meditation Room."

Heracles started introducing.

"Didn’t I say? A memory palace is essentially a form of self-hypnosis. Naturally, the environment for hypnosis shouldn’t be too noisy, and this environment is just right."

Indeed, when the secret room’s door was closed, all sounds were isolated, leaving only the sound of the two people’s heartbeats in the silence.

"But this is only for newcomers like you, unless there’s a need to carefully examine the palace and look for clues, I don’t need such an environment anymore," Heracles said.

"Then let’s talk about how to construct a memory palace..."

"I know, you mentioned it yesterday."

Lorenzo interrupted Heracles’ lesson. Lorenzo was indeed smart; he just didn’t bother to use it unless his enemy was a Demon, then he would get serious.

"Using space and symbols and memory, right."

Lorenzo recalled what Heracles explained to him yesterday, attempting it little by little.

"That’s right, represent those memories with a symbolic object, and place those symbolic objects in your palace in an orderly manner."

Heracles said while taking something from the darkness and then lighting it.

It was a small incense, emitting a faint white smoke, quickly filling the room.

The smell seemed familiar, Lorenzo couldn’t help but ask.

"This is... Wind Tobacco?"

"Hmm? You know this too?"

Heracles seemed quite surprised, "This isn’t a local crop, and it’s often confused with Mandrake; I thought no one knew about it."

"But... it can cause hallucinations," Lorenzo said.

For a long time, detectives have relied on rolling this stuff into cigarettes for their investigations, Lorenzo was very well aware of its effects.

"Is that so? I always use it to help me meditate and enter the memory palace," Heracles said. "Well, it doesn’t matter, let’s just use it."

Ignoring these facts, he continued.

"Just as I said, construct your palace in your mind, and then search, search for the lost books, the lost memories.

Just like falling asleep, Lorenzo, let yourself relax... but don’t fall asleep!

Yes, just like that, close your eyes, go to the deepest layers of thought, to that place only belonging to you..."

Lorenzo leaned completely on the back of the chair, his entire body relaxing completely.

"Continue downward, reaching into that palace..."

Heracles’ voice was very soft, getting softer, until it could no longer be felt.

The smoke of Wind Tobacco was inhaled into the lungs, merging into the bloodstream, rushing through the body, dragging thoughts to the deepest place. Lorenzo could feel his body gradually becoming lighter until it became heavy again, descending.

After some indeterminable time, the suspended foot finally touched the ground, standing steadily in the darkness, slowly he opened his eyes.

"Is this...my palace?"

Lorenzo looked at the only building before him, not deliberately thinking about it, but entirely imagining it by instinct, that most familiar and dear place in his subconscious.

"It sure is here."

Lorenzo thought he’d never see it again, or rather its once-glorious self. Lorenzo thought it was buried forever in the Church’s long history, but it was still there, alive in Lorenzo’s memory.

The magnificent palace was built within that massive natural cave, stone walls mottled and rugged, adorned with ancient intricate patterns resembling they were carved along the rocks, extending to the ends of his vision, with stone bricks rising beneath Lorenzo’s feet, leading him into the palace.

This palace had no doors to speak of, or rather, the massive dome was its door, with towering stone statues standing on either side, gripping Nail Swords, glaring fiercely.

A solemn godly music echoed from within the palace, burning light blazing, metallic clangs, warriors’ shouts echoed, as if an army battled inside.

Lorenzo strode forward, stepping inside. After many years, he returned here once more, a place once regarded as home, now solely existing in his memory, that splendid Static Holy Temple.