Chapter 702: Chapter 348: Craftsman Ghost, the Truth
Ronan stood at a distance, carefully observing the ghost in the distance.
From the appearance, he seed to be a middle-aged man with a thick beard, wearing old-style ancient clothes, holding tools such as a hamr and nails in both hands, like a craftsman who specialized in repairing waterways during the Keldim Empire.
Ronan listened to the mutterings from the craftsman ghost but couldn’t discern their aning.
His gaze went past the craftsman ghost and was drawn to a low, dilapidated hut behind it.
The area where the craftsman ghost repeatedly wandered seed centered around the hut, perhaps the place where he had worked during his life, being sustained by so obsession, refusing to leave.
Ronan squinted his eyes, casually extinguished the flas in his palm, and turned his hand to reveal a square-cornered, antique-looking black cow bell.
He approached the direction of the hut, his footsteps making a rustling sound on the ground.
As he approached a certain range of the hut, the craftsman ghost, seeming to follow so program along a path, suddenly raised his head, his hollow eyes fixated on Ronan.
In the next second, his previously rely eerie, honest face quickly beca ghostly and distorted, his mouth opening into a black hole, continuously expanding until it engulfed his entire face.
“Howl—”
The craftsman ghost transford into a green wind, rushing directly toward Ronan.
The energy fluctuations weren’t very strong, only about Level 2.
Ronan continued walking, gently shook the cow bell in his hand, which emitted no sound; instead, thick black smoke poured out from the bell.
A pale-faced young person, with blood-tear eyes and intricate patterns floating on his forehead, soon erged from the black smoke, without saying a word, directly attacking the green wind.
The black smoke enveloped the green wind, sounds of beast-like growls erged, soon it was just the sound of chewing.
Ronan didn’t gaze at the battlefield even once, only focusing on the crumbling stone hut.
Ahaxia, as a Level 4 Resentful Spirit, after being tempered several tis by Ronan as part of the Ghost Arrow Embryo, had his strength soar again, capable of contesting even a normal Level 4 Wizard, let alone a re Second-tier Ghost Body.
For Ahaxia, the craftsman ghost could only be considered a piece of chewy old at bone.
Ronan left Ahaxia to enjoy his al, walked to the stone hut, finding that its original door was long gone, leaving only a large hole ford by so impact.
He flicked a cluster of flas inside with his fingers, sweeping aside the cobwebs accumulated over the years, and under the brief flash of firelight, so unnad small creatures living in the darkness scurried away beneath his feet.
Ronan pulled a corner of his Magic Robe over his nose and mouth and then slowly stepped into the stone hut.
The entire hut was extrely small, piled with rubble everywhere, suggesting that many tools were once placed here, along with a narrow single bed, but these were all decayed.
Ronan used spiritual power to clear away layers of dirt and dust, searched the hut, not finding anything of value, but discovered many chiselled traces that resembled ancient writings on the inner side wall.
“Spirit Lake Book.”
Ronan took out the Spirit Lake Book he carried from the Space Ring, compared it to the text on the wall, and tried searching, actually finding so information related to the Keldim Wizard Empire.
The data was scarce, but it was barely sufficient for Ronan to translate the content of the text on the wall.
Ronan sotis felt confused, wondering why an empire as powerful as Keldim, which had once ruled an entire Upper Ring Continent, left so few docuntary records.
He didn’t even know whether the era in which the empire existed was recent, dieval, ancient, or prehistoric, as if soone intentionally erased it from history.
[…Comrcial discovery…Quivada Oasis…ordered construction…waterway…]
[Utmost honor…no one more suited for this task than you…]
The writings at the beginning of the wall ntioned both “Quivada Oasis” and “Ancient Waterway,” which read as if they were diary entries written by the craftsman ghost outside during his lifeti.
Ronan continued down the “diary wall.” In the middle of the wall, there seed to be marks of magic or physical attacks, with a layer of stone skin sheared off, resulting in few remnants of the text above.
He could only skip over it, looking further down.
[In the city…constructed luxurious…public fountains…providing safe drinking water…]
Ronan translated while reading. The enlightennt of over five thousand Ancient Spirit Texts had enhanced his thinking and comprehension remarkably, making learning even a new language exceptionally smooth and rapid.
The diary entries on the wall mostly praised the greatness of the waterway construction project, using repetitive phrases with limited vocabulary.
But Ronan didn’t feel bored either, as if dreaming of ancient tis, observing from the perspective of a small craftsman, he sensed the novelty and intrigue of a prosperous corner of the Keldim Wizard Empire.
Ahaxia finished eating outside, licked his lips, and floated inside with a sinister air.
Ronan paid him no heed, continuing to read the journal on the wall, and after a few lines, the style of the diary abruptly shifted!
[Intestines…heart…only an empty shell remains…]
[The chest cavity has been hollowed out…]
[Soone has turned into a mummy again!…I always said…they dug into the entrance to hell…]
The chaotic handwriting, even after unknown years washed over it, still expressed the panic and fear it held.
Ronan seed to envision a scene — at night, in a small room lit by a dim kerosene lamp, how the terrified stonemason used trembling hands to engrave these incoherent words one by one onto the wall.
“Looks like the craftsn of Keldim dug up sothing dreadful while constructing the waterway; perhaps this is the truth of how the grand Keldim Empire went from flourishing to decline, ultimately falling, perishing in flas and dust…”
Ronan’s eyes flickered with contemplation.
Looking further, there was hardly any valuable content left, all scattered phrases with mismatched beginnings and ends, filled with words like “monster” and “horror.”
So lines matched the characteristics of the lizard monster he had encountered before.
[I…I’ve already lost sight of the sunlight…]
[Sharon…this is not the most glorious project in history…this is the most foolish decision…]
[They were noble, powerful, and proud, yet they released the demon by their own hands…]
[My dear…little Sharon…]
Ronan slowly withdrew his gaze from the illegible handwriting, feeling a complex emotion surging within.
He seed to have found the truth behind the downfall of the Keldim Wizard Empire, the reason why the grand Ancient Waterway ultimately beca a bloodstained battlefield.
But none of it mattered anymore.
This unnad craftsman’s lingering obsession as a ghost, refusing to leave after death, was perhaps for his daughter nad Sharon who stayed alive above ground at that ti?
Was he still hoping that soday, in his ghostly state, he might see his daughter once more? For the incomparably powerful empire then, this was indeed not an unfeasible hope.
Perhaps in the last second before the craftsman’s death, he stubbornly believed that one day the empire’s wizards would completely eliminate those demons that erged from underground, thinking it was rely an unforeseen accident.
Yet he did not know that the empire he took pride in would ultimately perish in this catastrophe.
“Hoo—”
Ronan exhaled lightly, calming the ripples on his heart’s lake.
Every ti one reads historical records, they seem to collect so dust of ti, making the mood inexplicably heavy.
He and Ahaxia withdrew from the small house, conducting a simple search near the dilapidated stone house, eventually finding a second magic node slot under a pile of chaotic rocks.
Injecting spiritual power to activate it, fortunately, this node wasn’t damaged, so he casually tossed in an Advanced Magic Stone.
The illumination system within nearly a kiloter around the small house all started functioning, and gentle light dispelled large swaths of darkness, the monsters lurking in the dark stirred from inquiry.
Ronan exchanged a glance, and Ahaxia, full of sinister determination, transford into a cloud of black smoke, rushing out as the distant sound of monsters’ dying cries and the hum of Ghost Arrows echoed.
“I should have thought of letting this guy out to play long ago…it’s the perfect place for him to show his skills…”
Ronan shook his head, sensing the situation over at the Elent Pool through the Deep Knowledge Crown.
Before leaving, he used the Deep Knowledge Crown to create thirty-five Elental Life Forms, with each having a subtle connection with the crown, enabling Ronan to remotely control and command.
Now, two of the thirty-five third-level Elental Life Forms had been reduced, still within expectations, belonging to normal attrition, presumably, there was no real issue.
Ronan thought for a mont, planning to explore a bit further along the path of the waterway near the dilapidated stone house.
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