Turning Chapter 1165

Following that account, Luma’s writings no longer made direct mention of Inon. Yet, even through sparse, subjectless references, Yuder could vaguely discern how the Archmage had created, nurtured, and coexisted with his guardian.

“A mission undertaken in pursuit of my objective. Merely relocating a humble fruit to fresh earth. Should it succeed, it would become a resource for the companion I intended to reunite with upon achieving that objective. I perceived it as nothing more, nothing less. However, I soon came to grasp the true nature of the gambit the spirit had orchestrated for me.”

“It proved entirely unlike the act of watching over and educating children bound by soul. More challenging than arcane arts, more enigmatic than calamities, and something that defied any measurement of success or failure.”

“And yet, despite this, I discovered a peculiar enjoyment in the endeavor. The very first time my laughter erupted spontaneously was after my companion had departed.”

“Then, for the first time, a contemplation I had never experienced before arose in my mind.”

‘Should I succeed in attaining my objective… what fate awaits this small apple before me?’

‘Can I truly be assured that the fruit I reclaim will yield the identical outcome as this one?’

As he read this passage, Yuder ventured to consider a singular hypothetical scenario.

What if I were granted the opportunity to revert to the past? Could I retrace all that transpired and arrive at this present moment once more? Would the individuals I encounter elicit the same sentiments as they did during our initial encounters?

Contemplating it from that perspective, the answer presented itself with ease.

No.

Absolutely not. It was impossible.

It appeared the Archmage had reached the same conclusion.

“If such considerations occupied my mind over a mere minor fruit… what must my companion have felt?”

“His request was not for me to seek him out again. He harbored no fear of a vanished past, only apprehension for the future. Yet, somewhere along the journey, I lost sight of his request and began to pursue solely my own desires. Meanwhile, he, on the other hand, dedicated his entire existence to upholding the promise ‘I’ had made.”

“It was only then that I recognized the path I tread did no honor to my companion. Overwhelmed by a profound sense of shame, I resolved to seek the genuine answer anew—the reason he was compelled to entrust that burden to me. Not to meet him again, but to comprehend the ordeal he endured.”

Indeed. That was likely the precipitating factor behind Luma's departure from the Hill of Ghilandre.

“And… perhaps this also served as the crucial catalyst for his estrangement from Oblik van Ta-in, his disciple and the scion of the Founding Emperor.”

Oblik van Ta-in had an unyielding ambition to reverse the flow of time and reinstate his cherished father. From the inception of his pursuit to its conclusion, his resolve to place the fallen monarch’s piece back onto the strategic board never faltered.

Concurrently, Luma too, initially harbored the intent to locate and reapply the magic his past self had employed, aiming to encounter his companion once more—but his trajectory diverged. Once he commenced actions designed to comprehend the founding Emperor’s experiences and to honor his final, actual pronouncements, an alignment between their pursuits became utterly impossible.

In any case… so it held true? That there truly existed another individual besides the Founding Emperor and myself who journeyed back to the past?

Yuder continued to turn the parchment pages.

“I persisted in my search for someone who had undergone a similar journey as my companion. All had already dissolved into oblivion, and I believed it necessary to cast aside the past and advance—thus, I refrain from elaborating on the immense difficulty that entailed.”

Kishiar had previously hypothesized that those who survived the Great Cataclysm had deliberately expunged that historical period. Based on this passage, it appeared that such was indeed the reality.

“To continue my quest, I had to be prepared to relinquish my former identity. I turned my back on everything and departed alone. With the sacred text, which contained vestiges of the bygone world, clutched like a guide, I embarked on tracing the remnants of the potent figures who had escaped southward and endured. From the knowledge I gathered, their progenitors were the most probable origin of the nation that the spirit had referenced.”

Vestiges of influential individuals who had survived by retreating southward… It brought to mind the current Southern tribes, largely descendants of those who had migrated from the North.

Luma recounted his journey south, scripture in hand. The chieftain of the Wolf’s Eye tribe in the South had also mentioned a tome passed down through generations, chronicling tales of an empire that had predated the Orr Empire.

Scripture, and an empire existing prior to the current one.

Both were remnants of a world that had existed before the Great Cataclysm.

So the southern region's context aligns… but he carried scripture akin to a map, you say… That must imply it wasn't driven by religious conviction that he brought it along.

Nowhere within Luma’s written account could Yuder detect any adherence to a deity. Even now, a millennium later, referring to scripture as a “map” was an uncommon practice.

It did not seem to be a mere metaphor. He must have genuinely believed that the place names and the content within the scripture held authentic historical significance and followed them accordingly.

“—To my disappointment, what I discovered in the South was hardly different from the ancient founding myths most people still recall. The story of a hero, slain and then resurrected from the afterlife bearing knowledge of the future and a divine artifact. Under the wolf's blessing, he rose once more, vanquishing his foes alongside his companions—that is the age-old legend.”

As Yuder absorbed these words, he was instantly reminded of the Southern legend Nathan Zuckerman had shared previously, Aton of the Wolf's Eye tribe. He also recalled the faint voice he heard during the final confrontation with Naham, whose mother hailed from the South.

The wolf that devoured death to return, the Wolf's Eye tribe, the prophet who governs the stars.

Could it be that these were not simply Southern folklore, but in truth, the ancient founding legends passed down since the era of the Archmage Luma, predating the Great Cataclysm?

When one considers that the people of the South are, in essence, the descendants of a nation that existed before the Great Cataclysm, this notion doesn't seem so far-fetched.

Of course, not every phrase Yuder heard was an exact match; certain elements had likely undergone alterations over the vast expanse of time.

However, if the nation the spirit alluded to was indeed that one from antiquity, then perhaps even those seemingly outlandish tales were rooted in actual events. While pursuing this very conviction, I encountered an elder priest in the South who imparted another revelation.

“There once existed a sect that held the belief that the Scripture of the Sun and the Scripture of the Moon were originally a single tome. Their rationale stemmed from the observation that the words and deeds attributed to the first priest in both texts bore a striking resemblance.”

The Scripture of the Sun and the Scripture of the Moon.

Could this be a reference to the scriptures of the Sun God and the lingering worship of the black moon still present in the South?

With priests of the black moon religion still active in the South, maintaining a structured system, it was logical their scripture would share similarities with texts found elsewhere. Despite its perfect sense, Yuder found the connection oddly unsettling and surprising.

If even I, someone with little interest in such matters, am experiencing this much, then… this would likely captivate Kishiar even more.

Casting a sideways glance, Yuder observed the man beside him, engrossed in the household ledger with the focused air of a grandfatherly figure. Not wishing to disturb him, Yuder instead turned the page of Luma’s journal.

“A great hero and the inaugural priest. He gathered numerous disciples, intending to transmit his experiences and insights to future generations. Yet, unlike their esteemed teacher, the disciples could not find common ground amongst themselves. They fractured into two opposing factions, engaging in conflict until their worship essentially diverged, as if they revered entirely different deities.”

“Initially, I found such a narrative difficult to accept. However, after diligently gathering surviving versions of the scripture and subjecting them to rigorous comparison, I began to suspect it might not be entirely fabricated. Upon examining them with magic, I was astonished by the sheer degree of congruence between the two scriptures. Barring variations in place names and specific terminology, vast sections were virtually identical, merely presented from subtly divergent perspectives.”

“Consider the extent of persecution the Moon believers have inflicted upon those who venerated the Sun throughout the ages! The history of that cruelty is so prolonged and vicious that my friend—who was nurtured under the Sun God’s doctrines—faced mortal peril on multiple occasions solely due to their beliefs.”

“Perhaps the priests were privy to the underlying truth, but incapable of transcending the animosity born from that ancient history, they perpetuated a facade of mutual ignorance.”

“Even I… found myself reluctant to voice this truth aloud.”

“......”

Reading these words now, Yuder felt an identical sentiment stir within him.