A small thatched hut concealed countless secrets, making Bai Zhou ponder the events that had occurred there and the people who had once lived there.
However, this was precisely what made it feel like a graveyard of civilizations—everywhere held secrets left by those who came before, everywhere were ruins of past inhabitants, an archaeologist's paradise, an adventurer's sanctuary.
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Thinking of this, Bai Zhou's gaze shifted back to the pile of damp bedding. The ice that had originally covered the bedding had melted away completely by [Yangchun Baixue], revealing the already decayed and unrecognizable interior of the bedding, which then quickly hardened again in the extreme cold, refreezing.
The bedding looked normal, but Bai Zhou, who had already noticed the peculiarity of the thatched hut, disregarded his usual fastidiousness and immediately put away the bedding, which had been re-wrapped in ice, intending to study it slowly another day.
If the bedding also possessed the power to immunize against or even erase the influence of mysticism—then, after cleaning it, it would be the most suitable material for armor and a cloak!
The pots and pans used in the daily lives of ancient important figures were called antiques, but the pots and pans used by powerful ancient chosen ones—
now it seemed, might be even more special than Bai Zhou had imagined.
He hadn't realized this before, perhaps simply because he hadn't encountered that level of existence.
Therefore, he wasn't going to overlook anything in the thatched hut.
"And these—"
After putting away the bedding, Bai Zhou carefully picked up the small box and examined it.
The small box wasn't large, and its entire body was cast from some kind of dark, special metal, with green copper wrapped around the four corners, and a rusted copper lock hanging on the outside.
With a little effort, the skilled lock-picker Bai Zhou easily opened the small lock. The lock spring snapped with a "click." Bai Zhou cautiously and vigilantly lifted the lid of the box, even closing his eyes and using his inner eye to observe.
There was no poisonous fog as he had expected, nor any sharp steel arrows flying out. Instead, a scent of herbs wafted out. Inside the box lay several completely withered herbs and flowers, their moisture long since drained by time, looking utterly lifeless and devoid of any medicinal value.
"Herbs can still grow on this snow-capped mountaintop?"
Bai Zhou wondered.
Plants that grow in extreme terrain often possess extremely high value, such as snow lotus on snow-capped mountains and ginseng guarded by venomous snakes deep in the mountains.
Although Bai Zhou didn't recognize these herbs, he carefully put them into the Trojan Horse, thinking he would ask Crow or the Wolf Rider statue when he got back.
Besides the herbs, there was another item lying quietly in the box: a ring. The silver ring seemed to have originally had some patterns, but they had been deliberately scratched and smoothed out.
When Bai Zhou picked up the silver ring, he found that the spiritual energy it contained was negligible. It had neither storage function nor any hidden secret techniques or life-binding methods; it seemed to be just an ordinary ring.
But when Bai Zhou held the ring up and turned it over to examine it, he discovered two extremely small characters engraved on the inner circle.
"This is—?"
Bai Zhou leaned closer to decipher it and found that the characters inside were ancient and obscure, not belonging to any language that Bai Zhou currently knew. It should come from a city-state outside of the Hero Empire and the Trojan civilization.
With a soft "hum," Bai Zhou's eyes flickered, and he used a ritual to translate the two characters.
Invisible ripples spread through the air, the information entering Bai Zhou's mind. The world, through the ritual, informed Bai Zhou of the meaning of the two characters:
[Angelica].
"————Angelica?"
Bai Zhou pondered, realizing that the ring either carried some emotion of its owner or served as some form of identification.
No matter, Bai Zhou had a solution: "The wolf knight statue will definitely recognize the origin of these two characters!"
After cleaning the treasure chest, Bai Zhou examined the few dried-up quills. The handles were cracked beyond recognition, teetering on the verge of breaking at the slightest touch, utterly worthless.
Confirming that the quills were just ordinary quills, not the sword-wielding pens he had imagined, Bai Zhou casually tossed them into the Trojan Horse.
Yes, even so, Bai Zhou wouldn't let them go.
Similar items piled up in the Trojan Horse because Bai Zhou always maintained the humility of an apprentice. He always assumed he was inexperienced and might misjudge things, preferring to leave the "junk" gathering dust in the warehouse rather than regret it later.
In the mysterious world, similar examples are countless. A seemingly ordinary rusty copper piece might be a fragment of a world-shaking cauldron, and a withered seed enshrined in an ancient temple might contain the remains of a powerful, slumbering figure from ancient times. The mysterious world is never short of opportunities, but it is equally never short of unlucky souls who miss them and regret it later.
Finally, Bai Zhou turned his gaze back to the notebook.
The notebook's cover was made from the leather of some unknown beast, and the entire notebook was encased in ice, frozen solid, with each page stuck together, impossible to open.
Forcing it open would only damage the notebook, while melting the ice would soak it completely, which Bai Zhou worried would affect the handwriting inside.
However—
something he had just acquired would come in handy now.
"Buzz!"
Purple hexagonal ice flowers bloomed and spread across Bai Zhou's collarbone, exquisitely beautiful, with a faint white light shining within, like a winter sun appearing in the sky.
—[Snow Contract Two: Spring Snow]!
Bai Zhou had already discovered that this Snow Contract, named Spring Snow, seemed particularly adept at melting ice.
However, he didn't know why, when the field descended, covering a radius of thirty meters and melting all the surrounding ice and snow, even the ice wrapped in the mattress, it hadn't affected the ice wrapped in the notebook.
Therefore, Bai Zhou decided to try again.
The field shrank, and [Snow Contract II: Pure Snow in Spring] descended upon the small notebook.
"Hissing sounds—"
Sure enough, the ice on the notebook seemed particularly difficult to melt, quite hard, and as it shook, it seemed to be resisting [Pure Snow in Spring].
This made Bai Zhou realize that perhaps the ice wasn't naturally formed, but rather intentionally created by its previous owner, or perhaps for some reason, it was most affected by the core of the field.
However, although difficult to melt, it wasn't impossible. The small, solid ice was isolated and helpless, and could only shrink little by little in the face of the patient Bai Zhou.
The ice melted into water, and the water turned into vapor. A warm white light gently swept between the ice layer and the pages, evaporating all the remaining moisture, leaving not a single damp spot on the notebook. The efficiency was incredibly high, yet it was subtle and gentle—the very essence of [Pure Snow in Spring].
In the vast, warm white mist, Bai Zhou held up the dry notebook and was finally able to open it.
To Bai Zhou's surprise, the writing in the notebook didn't match the "Angelica" inscription on the inner ring of his ring. Instead, it was the standard script of the Hiro Empire, written in a neat and skillful hand.
The notebook was densely packed with more text than Bai Zhou had expected. Following the quill pen strokes, Bai Zhou turned the pages one by one.
The opening text read:
"[I am a descendant of the remnants of the city-state. On the day my parents and relatives all died in rebellion, the old priest picked me up from the ruins as an infant.]
[The priest died, and I, who buried him, came to this graveyard of civilization—here, there is no imperial pursuit, no imperial influence, but everywhere are traces of city-state civilization.]
[Perhaps, I was born to belong here.]
[Build a thatched hut; from now on, this will be my home.]
[Here are corpses everywhere, polluted by the graveyard, turned into walking corpses—perhaps, I am the same as them, I should suppress them and let them rest in peace.]"
[It's decided. For the rest of my life, my mission is to bury these restless souls, letting them find peace in silence.] [
Move the remains from the vicinity back to the snow-capped mountaintop to build a cemetery for them.]
[So, what am I—a gravedigger of a previous civilization?]
[Today, I carried back a skeleton. He was truly pitiful; most of his bones were broken, and he died with the inscribed tile that symbolized his identity in his hand—I carved a similar design for his tombstone based on the inscription.]
[That's right, a symbol of identity is always necessary, whether in life or death—so what am I? What am I, a wandering ghost who belongs neither to this world nor to a previous civilization?]
[That ring—perhaps [The Empire has come. I encountered them while exploring the graveyard, but unlike what I imagined, they are not going to hunt me down anymore—
but are willing to give me a chance to become a historian recording the history of a previous city-state civilization—]
[Let this old gravedigger help them distort history and endorse it?] [
If I were to serve the Empire and become its lackey, the old priest would probably jump out of his coffin and chop me up, wouldn't he?]
[—In the end, they slunk away with their ridiculous titles.]
[Today I found a fledgling eagle, a flightless eaglet that had fallen to its death. It was terribly ugly, but it was a pity; it was so small, even stewing it wouldn't be enough to satisfy my craving. So I hesitated and didn't kill it
.] [I put a splint on it, and the little thing bit me. It's alright, it has strength, so it probably won't die.]
[Day after day, exploring graveyards, moving corpses, and building tombs, the eagle has grown up. It probably thinks I'm boring, but even though it's bored, it stubbornly refuses to leave.]
[Alright, I'll let it keep me company. Let it chat with me, and when it gets stronger, it can help me move corpses.]
[Today, I met an interesting little fellow, who seems to be from the Black Stone Town outside the Sunset Mountains. He's a very pure adventurer, I think he's from the Canutius family.]
[With his meager strength, he dared to venture deep into the graveyard, a place even I dare not venture into—I admire him, and wish him good luck.] [
Exploring the graveyard, suppressing the walking dead, transporting corpses, bringing them back to the cemetery for burial—I think I've buried almost all the corpses in the surrounding area.]
[If someone comes to the outskirts of the graveyard and finds it relatively quiet, they'll probably thank me for saving their life, ha, though I don't care.]
[How long has this boring life lasted? But I think this kind of life has meaning.]
[—Right, Little Eagle?]
[Sometimes, I'm struck by the bizarre shapes of the corpses. Looking at their appearance, I can't help but wonder what they endured in life, what they were thinking in their last moments before death.]
[Was it the ugliness of not wanting to die, or the composure of facing death with equanimity?]
[After I die, will future generations climb the snow-capped mountains and see my ugliness? Will they imagine what I looked like before I died?]
[For this reason, I must bury myself with my own hands when I am about to die.] [
That way, future generations will only see a clean cemetery filled with flowers. On the sacred, white snow-capped mountain peak, will those who see this feel reverence for me?]
[I'm about to die, that's normal, but—]
[What about Little Eagle?]
[Send him away. I don't want him to see my ugly death.]
[But why can't I send him away? That stubborn brat, I don't remember teaching him this.]
[I can't walk anymore, Little Eagle went to carry the remains elsewhere.]
[I have a premonition, I really am going to die.]
[If I don't say goodbye properly, will Little Eagle think I'm still alive? Will he continue to live well?]
[I am a wandering ghost in this world, a remnant of a former civilization unwilling to serve the empire, a corpse carrier and tomb keeper who lives in seclusion in the civilization's graveyard, keeping company with the dead—]
[I thought I could come and go freely in this world, but I never imagined that, at the moment of my death, the only thing I couldn't let go of in this world would be an eagle—]
[Fate, what a wondrous thing.]
"Whoosh—"
Bai Zhou turned the pages, finally slowly closing the leather notebook, his expression calm as if he were digesting something.
The content roughly ended here.
Bai Zhou roughly learned from it the identity of the owner of the thatched hut.
Why did he see tombstones all over the ground when he first arrived at the top of the snow mountain, and the withered and frozen flowers in front of the tombstones?
Why was there a thatched hut that someone had lived in deep in the civilization's graveyard?
Why, in the civilization's graveyard, which was said to be full of ruins and eerie places, did Bai Zhou encounter few wandering souls while walking through it?
All these questions were answered at this moment.
Because a gravedigger once lived here, mourning the dead of a previous civilization, and he brought peace to all the souls in the vicinity.
He
had even encountered the archon's family, the adventurer ancestor of the Canutius family, in the civilization's cemetery.
This gravedigger, who spent his life collecting corpses and burying the dead, ended up with no one to bury him or see him off; he buried himself alone.
As a fellow descendant of the previous civilization, Bai Zhou, the heir of Troy, couldn't help but feel a deep respect for this predecessor.
"Shhhhh—"
Thinking this, Bai Zhou's fingertips lightly brushed the notebook's leather cover.
The slightly rough but dry cover seemed to respond to Bai Zhou's fingertips, suddenly vibrating slightly.
Bai Zhou's expression froze, a strange sense of familiarity welling up within him.
"What is that—?"
With a "whoosh," Bai Zhou immediately opened the notebook's cover, examining it closely, and discovered a hidden compartment inside.
With a swift movement, Bai Zhou pulled out a neatly folded piece of coarse cloth. Unfolding it, it revealed a small flag!
The patterns on the flag had faded to almost indistinguishable detail, only faint remnants of serpentine designs remaining, seemingly from a vanished civilization.
And on this flag, there was something Bai Zhou was most familiar with: the last words left by its owner, winding their way across the dark red surface—
[Death is common—but what about Little Eagle?]
"These last words—"
Just as Bai Zhou was pondering what these last words ultimately directed at him—
his gaze, hovering near the last words, collided with the serpentine remnants on the flag.
"Buzz!"
The ancient cloth, seemingly without any abnormality, at this moment, the instant its gaze met Bai Zhou's, caused a strange tremor in his heart, and the [Heavenly Pivot] within him spontaneously responded.
The serpentine afterimages seemed to begin swirling and dancing wildly across the flag, then bared their fangs and opened their blood-red maws, as if detaching themselves from the flag and lunging straight at Bai Zhou—
"What is that!" Bai Zhou suddenly became alert.
An incredibly heavy feeling, overwhelming and dizzying, suddenly pressed down on Bai Zhou's shoulders.
[Totem! Totem! Totem!]
A grand, rumbling echo resounded in his ears, the small flag seemed to enlarge, its dark red surface billowing without wind, as if transforming into a surging, endless wave of blood, accompanied by the roar of thousands of iron horses and clashing swords.
"Rumble!!!"
An ancient and solemn voice, as if from a primitive and untamed age, accompanied by the spontaneous, rapid hum of the Celestial Pivot, slowly resonated within Bai Zhou's heart:
[The mysterious Fire Servant, the heir to the Celestial Pivot, the noble prince from Troy—]
It spoke, or rather, it was the fading patterns on the banner that asked, [Under the witness of the gods, do you still remember, before the ancient beginning—]
[Our esteemed civilization, the brotherhood forged with blood and bronze?
]