It was still early, and Malin, to avoid being disturbed by Matilda and her companions while reading the diary, gave the girls so money and sent them to the market to look for interesting goods.
After arranging his room to his liking, Malin began to pore over the diary. As for the father of this body he now inhabited, Malin had no idea how to face him—his child had mysteriously died, and he, a man from eight millennia ago, sohow found himself here. If this was Fate’s choice, then Malin could only think that the Goddess of Fate was truly a deity with malice in her intentions.
But no matter what, Malin still had to thank this deity. At the very least, she had given him a chance—to witness the world eight millennia after his ti, to gain friends who shared their hearts and livers openly, and to et a lover whose emotions were as radiant as the sun and moon.
At the very first glance at the diary, Malin confird the date on its cover—it was about a century old.
How truly long a ti that was. Still, considering what Miryan had said about Malin’s father being able to remain youthful in appearance, to Malin, there was no shaking the identity of being a visitor from the Outer Domain. As for why his appearance had not aged, Malin believed his father must have returned here once again decades after ntoring him.
But then, a question arose—how had Malin’s father co here? Did the Church of the Lord of Justice help him?
If so, this would an that the Lord of Justice was aware of Malin’s biological father.
But if that were the case, Malin couldn’t help but question sothing—did the Lord of Justice know that the child before him contained a strange soul?
Yet he said nothing—why?
He had an understanding, even familiarity, with Malin’s father. Surely, he couldn’t not care about this child. Why didn’t he save the child? Why... did he watch as the child died, ultimately allowing Malin’s soul to usurp the nest?
It shouldn’t have been like this—it didn’t make sense. It was... too strange.
With curiosity and trepidation, Malin turned the pages of the diary.
The Month of ngzou, the seventeenth sunrise.
Thainan apprentice Zhang Chusheng told that "ngzou" ans the first month. I think I’ll use it for the format of all future entries. This is my first diary after arriving in this world. Zhang Chusheng is also my first apprentice. His family lineage can be traced back to before the Great Catastrophe. Speaking of which, I only discovered after the spacecraft lost control and crashed onto this land that civilization on this planet had once been destroyed. The ruined cities on the ground are re shadows of what once was. They were beautiful once, but ultimately, they were destroyed.
I no longer feel like leaving. This is an excellent opportunity for research. I want to see if other civilizations, after falling into decline, might regain the chance to leave their ho planet as we did.
Here signs my na: Raphael Midaruru.
Though the text was written in a language Malin had never seen before, he read it fluently.
Unexpectedly, it turned out that Malin was also a bioengineered human—how else could he comprehend this writing? The only way Malin could understand it was if the knowledge had been imprinted directly into his brain.
At this thought, Malin turned to another page.
The Mid-Spring Month, the ninth sunrise.
I now have a new apprentice, the second son of a local nobleman. After witnessing the result of my suggestions, the middle-aged man handed over his second son without hesitation. After all, having a water-powered mill that could grind more flour faster and better was an advantage. Furthermore, his peasants would also be able to use it, provided they paid him a usage fee.
Although this is a form of exploitation and indirect servitude, you must admit, Raphael, that despite the flawed system, only nobles with power can adequately protect their subjects in tis like these. It’s a mutual consent, a willing balance of give and take.
And as for taking apprentices, I do so to teach knowledge to everyone. Knowledge is power, my apprentices.
Hmm... no wonder he’s an alien—so calmly observing how this era differed entirely from the civilization he ca from, and dissecting and acknowledging the causes and potential solutions with such composure.
This made Malin’s impression of his father grow even fonder.
Turning the page, a new diary entry appeared.
The Late-Spring Month, the twenty-third sunrise.
Today, I heard a new story about the Great Catastrophe from a local Sage. The story ntioned Chaos. What exactly is Chaos? The Sage did not elaborate, leaving with only a vague idea. However, Chusheng told that Chaos was the source of all destruction.
I had once thought this to be rely the ignorance of a post-apocalyptic dark age—until this afternoon, when I saw a group of five towering warriors appear outside the town. The guards treated them with the utmost caution, engaging in battle with them, which resulted in seventeen deaths and twenty-nine injuries. As for those five warriors known as Chaos Warriors, only two of them were killed. When the remaining three Chaos Warriors were about to retreat, the lord and his cavalry arrived, defeating the three at the cost of five fatalities and one severe injury among their ranks.
This felt entirely unreal. How could there be nearly three-ter-tall giants, wearing such heavy armor yet able to move so swiftly!
This world is too unreal. I think I need to rest properly today. I’m taking the day off, and I hope my apprentices can forgive what they may perceive as cowardice.
Malin chuckled and shook his head—can you really bla him? After all, when Malin encountered that sword-wielding maiden back in the day, he, too, was nearly scared witless.
Reviews
All reviews (0)