N-A-A Chapter 979 Caesar's 500-Year Scheme
Chapter 979 Caesar's 500-Year Scheme
(Missing character, to be added later)
……
Five hundred years ago, in the Institute of the Faith, there was a quiet room steeped in knowledge—towering walls, a forest of bookshelves, layers upon layers of parchment scrolls and handwritten classics, the yellowed pages exuding the fragrance of ink and the dust of time.
The cold moonlight outside the window quietly spilled over the stained glass, casting mottled and lonely shadows on the messy floor.
Suddenly, the crisp sound of tearing pages shattered the silence, like a knife cutting silk; the heavy tome crashed to the ground, sending dust flying.
Heavy, suppressed breathing echoed in the empty space, like a trapped beast beating a drum in its chest.
The young man wore the scholar's robes of the Order of the Church, his light blue hair fell in disarray, the veins on his forehead bulged slightly, his eyes were bloodshot like embers after a fire had burned out, the whites of his eyes were bloodshot, and deep in his pupils was a wasteland where reason had been burned away.
His hands trembled, but he didn't stop, tearing page after page of those meticulously crafted manuscripts he once cherished as his own life—star trajectory calculation charts, ancient grammar tables, alchemical rune charts…
Paper scraps fluttered like snowflakes, landing on the dilapidated oak desk, the broken astrolabe stand, and the overturned bronze hourglass.
The entire room was like a silent, violent funeral for knowledge.
Tables and chairs overturned, candlesticks tilted, crystal prisms shattered on the floor, refracting countless fragments of him—
Every reflection is filled with despair.
Only when the last piece of paper turned to dust between his fingers and the last chair collapsed with a crash did he stand frozen in place, his chest heaving violently, sweat mixed with undried tears sliding down his neck.
But the pain did not subside with the ruins; instead, it became even sharper, like an ice pick piercing the bone marrow, like a blunt blade repeatedly cutting into the mind.
He slowly knelt down, his knees resting on cold stone bricks and scattered silver pen nibs. His gaze fell on the corner of the kitchen—where a silver-handled dinner knife lay quietly in the shadows, its blade reflecting the moonlight, cold as frost.
He reached out and picked it up; his fingertips were icy cold, and the blade trembled slightly.
Then, he slowly raised his wrist and gently pressed the blade against the inside of his left wrist. Under the skin, his pulse was pounding wildly, like a drum on the verge of shattering.
At that moment, the moonlight froze, breath ceased, and the world was left with only the roar of surging blood and a cold light about to sever destiny.
call out--
A shard of ice flew over and precisely struck the silver-handled dinner knife in the young man's hand, the knife making a crisp sound as it hit the ground.
Seeing the ice crystals that had fallen to the ground after the knife was knocked away, the young man paused for a moment, then his trembling body gradually calmed down.
Even though my heart is still overflowing with turmoil.
But the appearance of this ice crystal did calm him down a little, though only a little.
The young man looked up and slowly gazed towards the doorway.
The door had been opened at some point.
Three figures filed in.
Looking at the mess on the ground, Zhuge Xun sighed regretfully, "Alas, these are all valuable research materials, what a pity."
“I came all the way to Sumeru with the Marshal, not because I wanted to see anyone squander this precious knowledge.”
As he spoke, Zhuge Xun squatted down and began to clean up the mess on the ground, even though the pieces had been torn to pieces and could no longer be pieced back together.
Mingyuan kicked the nearest knife to the young man far away before looking at him: "Are you trying to kill yourself?... Caesar."
"Caesar" is like touching the most sensitive nerve of young people.
His expression, which had calmed slightly upon the appearance of the three, suddenly surged again, and he roared ferociously:
"Caesar? Are you still calling me by that name even now?"
"Hasn't the truth already come out? I am not Caesar, I am Zandik! The greatest traitor in the history of the Council of the Church! Another demon of Sumeru!"
—Aside
I have some guests coming over tonight, so I'm not able to write as much as I want, and I still can't update "Lao E" today.
I will add this 6000-word chapter tomorrow.