Chapter 54: The Gathering Point

In terms of past events, this one felt particularly heavy, even making it difficult to continue the conversation.
Having read many books and often empathizing with the stories within, Pela had never shared this deeply buried memory with anyone.
Whether it was burdening others with unnecessary worries or receiving well-meaning but misguided comfort, neither was what Pela wanted.
This hidden secret actually contained the guilt and regret of her younger, more naive self.
Had her overly fervent expectations not placed such a heavy burden on her mother?
If she had realized sooner from her mother’s tired and disheartened demeanor that not every expedition was as grand and thrilling as her mother made it sound, but rather filled with monotonous and arduous journeys—
Sleeping under the stars, enduring hunger and thirst—these were just the norm. From the very start, the supplies carried by the scientific expedition team determined how far they could go.
Even after repeatedly optimizing their routes, pushing past and reaching the limits of human endurance—
Did the unchanging snowy landscape not breed a deeper, darker sense of despair?
These were things the younger Pela had never considered. Yet, every time she read similar passages in Snowland Adventure Tales, she would reflect on them.

And now, why did she want to tell Venti about this…?
Perhaps it was because her willful self longed to find some "answers" from someone as special as him.
Even though her own answer had long since surfaced in her heart and had supported her for so long, she still wanted to seek out a different perspective.
This was likely the guilt that came from being the daughter of an explorer who couldn’t inherit her mother’s will, instead choosing a more roundabout path.

"...Listening to your story, I think I understand what kind of person Lady Penya was."
Venti’s gaze, tinged with a hint of nostalgia, fell on the Cecelia flower adorning the girl’s hat.

"If you don’t mind, let me tell you a story from my homeland. Don’t worry, it’s not long—in fact, it’s quite brief—but I think it shares some similarities with Lady Penya’s story."
"...Venti’s homeland? I’m a little curious about what kind of place it is."
Pela’s eyes sparkled with anticipation, but the young man was already immersed in unraveling and reconstructing a memory from the past.

"In the past, in my homeland of Mondstadt, there were many who became adventurers. They aspired to cross mountains, ford rivers, and reach the ends of the world."
This sounded quite similar to the scientific expedition teams of old, though one group carried a weighty mission, while the other was more free-spirited.
"Among them was a man named Leonard. By the age of forty, his adventures had taken him to every known hidden realm. With just a rope, he could scale cliffs, and with a wooden boat, he could sail across seas.
As an adventurer, he had already gone further than anyone else. His career was just one final destination away from a perfect conclusion."

The bard’s voice carried a touch of world-weariness as he spoke with solemnity.
"That place was called Pilos Peak, a mountain perpetually shrouded in snowstorms, its shape like a witch’s hat stretched to a sharp point. It was a place where dreams were shattered, as no one had ever reached its summit.
Leonard saw it as the endpoint of his journey. But sadly, Pilos Peak not only ended Leonard’s adventuring career but also destroyed many intangible things.
His past experiences didn’t bring him success—instead, they brought deeper frustration.
Even in his twilight years, Leonard would often stand at the foot of the mountain, buried by the vast snow, gazing helplessly at this insurmountable peak.
In his heart, he whispered—it was a beast without weakness.

It was the embodiment of the world’s merciless side, and it terrified me. Once an adventurer loses courage, they can no longer climb the highest peaks."

As a listener, Pela had always felt that Venti’s voice was perfect for storytelling. The slight rhythm and unique narrative style always drew her into a state of empathy.
It was as if she, too, were kneeling at the foot of Pilos Peak, staring at this nightmare that stood before all adventurers who aspired to conquer mountains.

The tale continued:
"After that, Leonard stopped climbing mountains and instead began dreaming bigger and farther. Humans invent tools to conquer nature, and when nature conquers them, they invent better tools.
If legs cannot reach, use tools. If tools cannot achieve it, then wings. He left behind unfinished designs for wings, believing that in the face of the unknown, people would unite. He was certain—
As long as we live, humans will eventually reach all visible places.
Though his time was running short, and the wind that belonged to him had yet to arrive, among his successors—or among our children, students, and friends—there would surely be one who could reach it."

This was an inspiring tale, contrasting with the somber past Pela had shared earlier.
Yet, Pela continued to stare intently at Venti. In the past, she might have thought the story was over, but at this moment, she could clearly sense—
It wasn’t over. The meaning of this story had yet to be fully revealed…

"I think you must be curious whether anyone actually reached the summit—"
Venti spoke softly, a hint of a smile in his voice.
"Over the course of thousands of years, people did indeed climb Pilos Peak. But by then, it was no longer a towering mountain—it had become a small piece of land in the sea.
All it took was a boat, and the summit that once seemed insurmountable became a place anyone could reach."

His eyes seemed to carry a deeper meaning, yet they were as pure as jade, free of ulterior thoughts.
"Anyone can reach the summit…"
Pela hugged her book, her gaze instinctively drifting toward the distant gray city walls and the snowstorm beyond.
For some reason, she suddenly felt a strong impulse.
She wanted to return home and finish reading her mother’s unfinished journal.

Almost as soon as the thought arose, she began to move, running as she had in the past to greet the returning expedition team.
The breeze brushed against her face, lifting her hair and causing the petals of the Cecelia flower to sway gently—
The round glasses on her face nearly slipped off as she ran, but she quickly steadied them. Her eyes were filled with determination.

When she finally returned home, she found the long-sealed small box.
She blew off the dust and clicked open the lock.
Inside lay the journal she had inherited from her mother, resting quietly.
...
She opened the journal and, under the faint glow of the precious geothermal lamp, began to write carefully and meticulously within the snowstorm-proof tent.

"Perhaps, when faced with life’s desperate situations, we cannot help but lament our own helplessness, but—"
The elegant explorer with round glasses paused her pen, seemingly hesitating over what to write next.
This troubled thought seemed to stretch time, making everything feel obscure and difficult.
But when the tent flap was opened slightly, letting in a ray of light and a few snowflakes, she felt a sudden clarity.
Responding to her companion’s excited call to set out, she hurriedly added the final lines.

"But—even if the snowstorms never cease, we must seek turning points at the steepest places."
She stepped out of the tent, the frost brushing against her glasses and her breath fogging them up.
As she skillfully wiped her glasses, the explorer widened her eyes, gazing at the vast expanse of the world before her.
"—The scientific expedition team must set out for the next location."