When the first rays of dawn climbed the treetops, Samuel led Luo Ling to an ancient graveyard hidden within the valley.
There were no tombstones here, only countless sarcophagi half-sunken in the earth, their lids carved with ancient runes long lost to time.
The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and a faint trace of sandalwood.
“This place is…”
Luo Ling gazed at the sarcophagi, an inexplicable sense of familiarity rising within him.
“The Resting Place of the Gravekeepers.”
Samuel walked slowly to the largest sarcophagus, his steps heavy, as if burdened by endless memories and emotions.
He reached out, gently brushing away the moss covering the sarcophagus, as if unveiling a piece of history sealed by time.
“This is also where your father once fought. And you, a child of the family…”
Samuel’s voice was low and magnetic, as if telling a distant and tragic story.
Luo Ling stood quietly at his side, listening to Samuel’s words, his eyes fixed on the sarcophagus, a complex emotion welling up inside.
“My father…?”
Luo Ling murmured, his voice echoing in the empty chamber, carrying a trace of confusion and bewilderment.
“No wonder when I first transmigrated, my father’s figure wasn’t by my side. So his identity was this mysterious, and I even count as half a rich second-generation…?”
Luo Ling shook his head with a bitter smile, questions surging through his mind like a tide.
“But then, why did I transmigrate not within the family, but to this wilderness? And who is my mother?”
As Luo Ling fell into deep thought, his gaze was suddenly drawn to a pattern on the side of the sarcophagus.
It was a family crest—a Silver Eagle, wings spread in flight, so lifelike it seemed ready to soar from the stone.
Luo Ling’s breath caught.
He hurried forward, reaching out with trembling hands to gently trace the cold surface.
“My father… is he here?”
Luo Ling’s voice was filled with disbelief and excitement, his fingers gliding along the contours of the Silver Eagle’s wings, as if he could feel his father’s presence.
“No.”
Samuel shook his head.
“Here lie the Adjudicators of generations.”
“Your father was the last, and the only one who relinquished the right of judgment.”
He pressed a rune on the sarcophagus.
The lid slowly opened, revealing layers of ancient books and a neatly folded black cloak inside.
At the collar of the cloak was a silver owl emblem.
Luo Ling’s pupils contracted.
“This emblem… it’s the same as your mask!”
“Because we are all Gravekeepers.”
Samuel slowly reached behind his head, unfastened the silver mask, and took it off.
Beneath the mask was a young, pale face, as if forgotten by the years.
A crescent-shaped scar marked his left brow, like a cold moon hanging there, adding an air of mystery and severity.
Yet most striking were his eyes—deep as ancient wells, as if they could see through all things, yet impossible to fathom.
“My true name is Kai.”
Samuel’s voice was low and magnetic.
“I am not only an undercover Gravekeeper in the Church of Holy Light, but also your father’s… husband.”
Luo Ling was completely stunned.
He stared at the man before him, eyes wide in disbelief.
He had thought being an undercover agent was shocking enough, but hearing that this man was his father’s husband sent his brain into meltdown, as if his CPU had burned out.
“Who the hell transmigrates to another world and ends up gay?!”
Luo Ling couldn’t help but cry out, his mind thrown into chaos by the revelation.
“Wait—could it be… cross-dressing?”
A wild thought flashed through Luo Ling’s mind.
He scrutinized Kai up and down, searching for any feminine traits.
But no matter how he looked, Kai was clearly a man, and Luo Ling’s fleeting hope was instantly dashed.
“Hahahaha…”
Kai couldn’t help but laugh at Luo Ling’s serious pondering.
“You and your father are just alike, so easily fooled… hahahaha.”
Luo Ling’s face darkened, but faced with Kai’s teasing, he was at a loss for words.
“Alright, alright, I’ll stop teasing. It’s time to talk business.”
Kai quickly composed himself.
“What exactly happened back then?”
Luo Ling asked, voice trembling.
Kai’s gaze dimmed.
He took a yellowed diary from within the sarcophagus and handed it to Luo Ling.
“This is your father’s diary. Read it, and you’ll understand everything.”
The handwriting began strong and firm, but gradually grew messy and twisted.
Luo Ling flipped through the pages one by one, feeling as if an invisible hand was gripping his heart ever tighter.