Diary

Nora opened the door, wiped the sweat from her forehead, and hung her shovel behind the door.

The layout of the room... well, there wasn't much of a layout; the room contained only a table, a wooden crate, and a bedroll in the corner.

Nora pulled the wooden crate in front of the table. At night, she would spread her bedding over it to sleep, but for now, it served as her bench.

Supporting herself with her hands as she sat on the crate, she kicked off her bear-skin boots. They were still from the Northern Territory, and they were far too stifling for this island.

She had been here for a long time without realizing it. She found herself missing the churches and the wind and snow of the Northern Territory.

Nora's gaze dimmed slightly as she pulled a notebook from under the table.

This was her diary. Every member of the Silent Temple kept a diary. The White Calamity in the Northern Territory was so terrifying that when rescue teams arrived, they often found nothing but corpses frozen in ice inside the churches; they could only read the journals left behind to understand what had happened.

Because of this, many people were resistant to keeping a diary, feeling as though they were writing their own last will and testament.

But Nora never thought that way. She believed that writing a diary was a very romantic thing to do.

To write one's entire life into a book, and to feel as if one were conversing with oneself whenever it was opened—this made her feel good, as if the boundary between life and death had blurred.

She liked it very much.

Taking a quill from a small box and unscrewing the ink bottle to dip it in, Nora carefully brushed aside the white hair that had slipped onto the paper and began to write.

[Flowering Moon, 7th day. Sunny.]

[Today is a day worth recording properly. I have been on Castel Island for nearly two months, and the Church's mission has finally made some progress.]

[Persistence was indeed the right choice.]

[Since the beginning of this month, the local lord, Theus, had stopped replying to me, and he never mentioned the things he had previously promised. I had assumed this mission was a failure.]

[But this morning, he contacted me through the Empress's channels, which left me somewhat puzzled... Later, I realized he might be intending to establish an official connection with me.]

[This is a good thing. Although his previous promises are likely void, it at least represents a form of recognition—recognition of my power.]

[He must have run into trouble.]

[Sure enough, after some hypocritical pleasantries, he asked me to heal his "non-human friend."]

[He even made new promises.]

[Even though I knew it was a lie, that phrase, "This is your home, too," still made my heart tremble.]

[How long has it been since the followers of the White Crow had a home?]

[To the brothers and sisters who succeed me, you should be able to understand that feeling.]

[Like a bonfire in a blizzard, like a ray of sunlight when the polar night is about to end.]

[At that moment, a scorching fire surged in my chest. I am willing to do anything for this sliver of hope.]

[Even if it means cooperating with a cult leader like Theus.]

Nora frowned as she wrote this and stopped. Glancing at the sky outside, she carefully set the pen aside, hopped off the crate, and turned to open it.

Supporting the lid of the crate with one hand, she pulled out a set of armor bound together with leather straps with the other.

Unbuckling the straps, she sighed softly and laid them out on the floor one by one, making it easier to put them on later.

Putting on this kind of full plate armor without help was quite troublesome, but unfortunately, she was the only one here.

After setting it all out, Nora hesitated. She looked at her diary with a hint of reluctance, then sat back down at the table and continued to write.

[From the moment he mentioned the non-humans in the sea, I knew he had already been corrupted. Since he is the lord of this place, the cult must have already infiltrated it.]

[Ever since that day, the pollution has spread across the entire ocean. There are no non-humans left in the sea, only monsters.]

[However, it is strange; I did not detect any pollution on him... not even a trace.]

[He must have been too afraid to seek out the nuns of the Candlelight Society, so he came to me for help. He probably intends to kill me to silence me once the healing is finished.]

[He specifically used official channels to find me, likely intending to push the trouble onto me later.]

[Unfortunately, he does not understand the Burier, nor does he know what great power sacred death can bring.]

Nora squeezed the pen holder and let out a soft hum through her nose.

[I will help him heal, I will help him hide the truth, and I will force him to fulfill his promise.]

[The Temple has nowhere left to go. We must grasp any hope firmly. Even if we have to cooperate with the lackeys of an evil god, we must find a new home for our believers.]

[Although the lord has been corrupted by an evil god, Castel is not beyond saving. As long as we can establish a church here and build a temple, this place can still be a home for the followers of the White Crow.]

[Home... we have paid too much for this word. The White Calamity destroyed everything, and so many of our kin have fallen into ruin.]

[Fortunately, there is still hope here.]

[Our predecessors paved the way with their flesh and blood; now it is my turn.]

[I have already dug my own grave. My successor, please remember to bury me.]

[May the wind and snow fade away, and may the flowers bloom.]

Nora snapped the diary shut with a sharp sound.

She carefully wiped the cover with the hem of her robe, then picked it up to inspect it from top to bottom, still feeling uneasy.

Very good, clean and tidy; this was her book.

Future successors will flip through this diary and remember me, as if I were still living right by their side.

Nora thought to herself, her hands trembling slightly without her realizing it.

She placed a bouquet of flowers she had prepared long ago on top of it.

Those were flowers she had brought from the Northern Territory, nameless wildflowers plucked from the roadside that she had tended to with great care, though it seemed unnecessary now.

She had already written a secret letter that would be sent out soon, and the Silent Temple would send a successor over.

Now, she needed to fulfill her duty.

Nora pulled the padded liner from the chest and donned it, followed by her chainmail, and then the plate armor pieces.

It was strange; once she put on the armor, all that weakness, hesitation, and sentimentality vanished from her.

She was a warrior now, and she would die on the path of a charge.

How wonderful.

Nora's lips curled upward instinctively, but she quickly pressed them tight.

She hoisted a tower shield in her left hand and gripped a flail in her right.

The priests of the Silent Temple were not good at reasoning, but when a spiked hammer head was smashed into an opponent's skull, the enemy should surely find some enlightenment.

Nora had even gone so far as to engrave verses from the Holy Scripture onto the head of the flail.

Once fully armored, Nora turned back to close the lid of the chest and tidied up the table.

After a moment of hesitation, she wrote a note, folded it in half, and tucked it beneath the diary.

Having finished all this, Nora pulled on a cloak to conceal her armor, opened the door, and walked out without looking back.