Vellandelle and Veronie also frowned, and Vellandelle even subconsciously raised her hand to gently fan in front of her nose.
After the smell faded a little, the three of them cautiously stepped into the room.
It was a rather spacious room, with tall wooden bookshelves lining the walls, reaching all the way up to the high ceiling.
However, most of the shelves were empty, with only a few severely damaged books lying askew in the corners, covered in thick dust and cobwebs, as if they had been forgotten for centuries.
The whole room was filled with a sense of desolation.
In the center of the room stood a large Oak Desk.
The desk’s surface was also thick with dust, but at its very center lay a Notebook.
It looked old, with worn corners, but overall, it was relatively well preserved.
“There’s a book over there.”
Karansa pointed to the desk, her voice sounding a bit abrupt in the empty room.
Veronie’s gaze was immediately drawn to the Notebook.
A trace of curiosity flickered in her emerald eyes.
Since entering the Dungeon, she had constantly sensed the strangeness here—what could be hidden in this rare old room?
“Be careful.”
Veronie whispered a warning, tightly holding Vellandelle and keeping vigilant against any sudden developments.
Karansa nodded.
As a knight, she took the initiative to assume the role of pathfinder.
She walked slowly toward the desk, each step stirring the dust on the floor with a faint “swoosh.”
Her eyes fixed on the Notebook.
Vellandelle and Veronie followed behind.
Vellandelle looked around the room, her mind pondering—perhaps this was a warden’s chamber.
Karansa finally reached the desk.
She didn’t immediately reach out to touch the Notebook but observed carefully for a moment.
After confirming there were no obvious magic traps or mechanisms, she extended her hand and gently brushed the dust from the cover.
The leather cover was revealed, with no title or symbols—only the deep marks left by time and a single line of text.
“Newborn.”
Veronie was the last to decipher the meaning of the ancient characters.
The three of them exchanged glances, seeing both gravity and curiosity in each other’s eyes.
What did “newborn” mean? It couldn’t be a crowd of newborns.
“Let me have it.”
Veronie took the Notebook and flipped through it casually.
Vellandelle squeezed her small head over to look, but couldn’t understand a single word.
“Veronie, what does this all mean…”
Vellandelle hugged Veronie’s arm, half-whining.
Veronie stiffened, but calmly began to explain.
“Chronicle Era Year 47, April 19th. This is our second year of being lost. It seems the prisoners in the Dungeon have learned something and are plotting a riot. We executed the conspiring prisoners in advance. Fortunately, Holans Bradley remains in that comatose state. All is well.”
“July 8th. Damn, my mental state is off again. If this continues, I’ll lose control before next year.”
“Chronicle Era Year 48, January 1st. Luckily, we made it another year. My mind miraculously improved a bit. But the prisoners became very strange. They grew much quieter. At first, we thought they were up to something again, but later realized something was wrong. They…seemed to become numb?”
“……”
“Chronicle Era 94, June 6th. Today is Saint Day. Says Brown saw him—exists in the ancient divine Dungeon—sin—burned us. Truly blasphemous to my Lord of Suffering.”
“Chronicle Era 95, June 7th. Pain…lost control again. The time doesn’t feel right—has it really been 50 years? Izijsn……”
So it was a diary.
After Veronie’s explanation, they understood.
This must be the record of what those guards experienced back then.
By the end, Vellandelle could even tell the writer had already lost their sanity, writing words and timelines in error.
That line, “Says Brown saw him—exists in the ancient divine Dungeon,” should have been, “Brown said he saw, the Dungeon contains an ancient god.”
This record weighed on her mind.
The God of Wind and Snow had warned that Ancient Gods existed in the Dungeon.
She had always thought the Ancient God referred to by the God of Wind and Snow was the Disaster God, but perhaps that wasn’t the case?
And why did the record refer to “my Lord of Suffering”?
Wasn’t the God of Suffering worshiped by humans in Ka Jielielun and Aoluowei Sa?
How could it be called “the Lord”?
And at that time, hadn’t the God of Suffering not even been born yet?
Furthermore, the Falen Kingdom was clearly described as worshipping the Disaster God.
No, what’s going on here?
Or did the owner of the Notebook simply make a mistake?
Veronie flipped through the remaining blank pages, and suddenly, a few loose pages fell out.
Vellandelle bent down to pick them up.
“This doesn’t really look like a Notebook.”
Vellandelle said doubtfully.
Veronie examined them and deduced, “It isn’t. These are fragments from a book.”
“A book, huh. Then I’ll leave the translation to you, Veronie.”
Vellandelle smiled and stuck out her tongue.
For some reason, Veronie suddenly had the urge to bite this little devil’s tongue, but she restrained herself and bit her own lip instead.
She picked up the loose pages and her brow furrowed.
“No, this isn’t ancient Faren language. It looks strange. I can’t make out what language it is.”
“What, even Veronie doesn’t recognize it?”
Vellandelle was a bit surprised.
She had assumed it was Faren language and hadn’t looked at the contents.
But when she finally did, she froze.
It was Chinese.
In an instant, Vellandelle’s brain crashed.
What’s going on!
Why is there Chinese?
This whole game had a Western worldview—there shouldn’t be any Chinese.
That left only one possibility.
Vellandelle swallowed hard.
Aside from herself, there was another transmigrator.
After hesitating repeatedly, she began to read, but didn’t read it aloud.
“The great Empire gradually decayed and perished. The noble qualities humanity once pursued were replaced by tainted capital and implementation. The reason we gathered was to find the Pioneer God of Suffering.”
“At the critical moment, He left the Empire and His people without a word. We must find Him and awaken Him, and ask for the truth behind all this.”
Then came the second page.
Vellandelle faintly sensed there was a lot missing in between.
“So that’s it. This is the truth, then. We are merely Gu Worms of fate, used to temper a true Gu King. It’s a pity you discovered the truth too late, so you could only seek your end in silence.”
“Sigh…As for Them, Their choice was to become gods. Sorry, I don’t think it should be that way. There should be a person, and an ending. Otherwise, this becomes an endless deadlock.”
“……”
A riddle.
Vellandelle didn’t even know how to react anymore.
Her head was filled with question marks.
What was this?
It was clearly Chinese, but she couldn’t understand a word.
“I’ve seen this before.”
Karansa interjected from the side.
Both pairs of eyes focused on her.
Veronie looked curious.
Vellandelle was horrified.
What? She’d seen it before?
“You’ve seen it?”
“Yes. These strange characters are unforgettable. I was fortunate enough to enter the Sanctuary once. In the Imperial Relic Exhibition there, I saw it. If I remember correctly, it was…the Handwritten Manuscript of the Disaster God.”
“The Handwritten Manuscript of the Disaster God?”
At this moment, Vellandelle was completely lost.
First the Disaster God, then the God of Suffering, and now a handwritten manuscript.
The Disaster God must be a compatriot, right?
Then the owner of these pages was the Disaster God?
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