Pillar of Yita

The moonlight in the desert is bright, casting the inn room in a gentle glow.

Fang Hong absentmindedly put down the quill, inserting it into the ink bottle.

He raised his head, then lowered it again, sighing—a sigh as he closed the diary and stood it upright, inserting it among a pile of books. Some of those big, thick books had titles edged in gold thread that read ”Theory of Ether,” ”Geography of Istania,” and ”Numelin Alchemy Studies.”

Fang Hong looked at the moonlight outside the window, his mind filled with tangled thoughts, unable to stop the ideas from the day rising in his heart.

He leaned back, sliding his chair, reaching to open a drawer—the drawer contained a stack of parchment as dry as dead leaves, covered with winding symbols that reflected a faint glow in the moonlight.

He glanced at them, then silently closed the drawer. These were hand-copied texts of the Abyssal Sea Scroll, and the scholars who transcribed them lived far earlier than their time, so the copies themselves could be considered artifacts.

Originally, he shouldn’t have brought these things with him.

But for some inexplicable reason, Fang Hong himself didn’t know what kind of mentality it was. When he bid farewell from the estate, he requested the Grand Princess to let him keep them.

And she didn’t refuse.

Perhaps because they were key clues in investigating that slave trade incident, Fang Hong also thought so. The reason he did it might also be related to the documents having some connection to the Dragon Worship Sect. Perhaps it even involved that Wanderer—

But the next moment, he realized these were just excuses.

He simply wanted to keep these documents, as if an unseen voice was compelling him to do so. Once this idea emerged, it couldn’t be stopped.

This made him increasingly uneasy, wondering if he was being controlled by a mysterious power, like last time with Dragon King Leifgard, making decisions that weren’t truly his own?

After much hesitation, he finally made a decision, reaching into his coat pocket and pulling out an amulet. The amulet was about three fingers wide and long, shaped like a silver crescent moon, carved with an Elf Iris Flower.

He took off the original Night Owl brooch from his left chest and replaced it with this amulet, then steadied himself. As if he had found some psychological comfort, he finally let out a small sigh of relief.

This amulet, named ’Wall of Anluose,’ was a gift from Nevade’s master. Actually, he had already met the wearing requirements after the battle in Fanric. It was just that he couldn’t part with the calculative power bonus from the Night Owl Amulet, so he hadn’t switched it out until now.

In actuality, this amulet is a Level 38 Elf Curio, capable of fending off mental attacks below Level 45. It might fall short to resist the psychic lures of Dragon King Leifgard, but it should be adequate to block the spiritual influence from an unclaimed object.

Or so he thought.

Unfortunately, things didn’t go as planned.

Fang Hong, upon wearing the brooch, found it to be of no use at all. He still couldn’t block the barrage of thoughts in his mind, and when he closed his eyes, the words from the Abyssal Sea Scroll he had seen during the day floated across his mind.

Even those strange, twisting characters invoked a strong, unwavering notion—that he had indeed seen those characters before.

But Fang Hong quickly came to his senses.

He couldn’t have seen these things.

His eyeballs twitched beneath his eyelids as if he had witnessed something bizarre.

The next moment, Fang Hong uneasily opened his eyes again, looking down, only to find he had somehow opened the drawer once more.

Inside the drawer, those scrolls lay undisturbed, as if they had never moved.

Frightened, Fang Hong quickly shut the drawer with a ’snap.’

He lifted his head, drenched in cold sweat, and looked toward the window. From the direction of the inn, he could see the street by the river outside, the moonlight casting a snowy glow over the river surface.

In the distance, a young girl came with a water jug on her head, stopping by the river. She bent down, first placing a mat on the shore, then rolling up her skirt and stepping barefoot into the water.

Setting down the jug, she began to fill it with water.

Seeing this scene, Fang Hong seemed to finally snap out of the phantom realm of his own mind. He supported himself on the table with both hands, took a breath, and couldn’t resist calling out in a low voice:

”Miss Tata.”

”Mr. Knight?”

”Papa.”

Tata’s quiet voice, along with Nini’s childish reply, sounded simultaneously.

The voice of Miss Fairy indeed had a settling power, making Fang Hong feel slightly at ease. Leaning against his chair, he supported himself with his hands on the table, and after a moment of silence, he asked:

”Miss Tata, did you feel anything just now?”

Tata’s form appeared before him, gently flapping her fairy wings, her eyes a bright emerald green looking at him as she replied:

”Your heart is very restless, Mr. Knight.”

”I know,” Fang Hong withdrew one hand, pressing his forehead, and asked weakly, ”Did you hear any sound before, like... like it was with Leifgard?”

Tata slowly shook her head:

”No, Mr. Knight. But I only feel that you seem very anxious, and all the anxiety in your heart comes from your own thoughts.”

”My own thoughts...” Fang Hong shook his head, ”Can you sense what I’m thinking, Miss Tata?”