The Martial Emperor had handed over those two sheets of paper casually, but Ronan treated them like treasures. He skimmed through them hungrily as he hurried along.
The Martial Emperor's writing was overly terse. It felt like she was writing an annal, with a certain awkwardness born of being concise for concision's sake.
Yet upon further consideration, most of the wording was remarkably precise, seemingly carrying deeper meaning; only a small portion remained hazy and unclear, as though something had gone slightly off.
Could this... be a translation issue?
Thinking back to how the Martial Emperor had directly used Ceremonial Ancient Script when explaining the "relationship between humans and gods" last time, perhaps this time was the same?
If Ronan had not spent this period studying the "Cloak" app and been particularly impressed by the guide text in the three languages on its main interface, he never would have thought of this so quickly.
He roughly arranged the wording in his mind, becoming increasingly certain of the possibility.
Heh, it suited the Martial Emperor's temperament perfectly.
Ronan very much wanted to begin translating right away, but this was hardly the time. The Martial Emperor had already vanished from sight ahead of him.
He could only gather his thoughts and speed up after her. Under these circumstances, there was no point hoping to win their race.
Ronan arrived nearly three minutes late. By the time he found her, the Martial Emperor was standing on a stretch of tidal flats by the sea, hands in her pockets, long hair streaming in the wind as she gazed leisurely over the dark waters. Her back was not ladylike enough, but it was dashing enough.
When Ronan hurried over, she looked back with a smile. "What a gentleman. Then I won't stand on ceremony—I have