"Those who are not 'Longevity Ones' cannot live for a thousand years. In my shallow understanding, that is true for now... Count of Green Forest has lived for a thousand years. It is unlikely that he is you."
The enormous transparent face replied, "So... you may also be some kind of front, or perhaps Count of Green Forest's avatar, even a vessel... But none of that matters. What matters is that you can represent that existence, which qualifies you to speak with me as an equal."
Aaron fell silent for a moment before admitting openly, "Indeed... I sensed your goodwill. But before we speak, shouldn't you introduce yourself?"
"Yes, please forgive my earlier rudeness."
The enormous face answered in the ancient, desolate native tongue of the Spirit Realm, "I am an ancient survivor from after this world's civilization was destroyed, the founder of the Society for Historical Studies, the guardian of secret history... You may call me—Motula!"
Oh-ho... another prehistoric human? Brother, you've had it even rougher than Lin and the others!
Aaron mocked inwardly, while a look mingling shock and confusion appeared on his face. "Prehistoric civilization? The Spirit Realm once had civilization?"
"Of course. Otherwise, where do you think those technological ruins came from? But the apocalypse descended, and the spirit tide revived... All humans unable to adapt were wiped out." Motula answered in a weathered tone.
That makes sense... They went through the 'fall of the sun' and gained benefits from it... Add a bit of luck... As long as those remnants who survived could pass through the Gate of Longevity, it was entirely possible for them to live until now. If he learns that I'm the black hand behind the end of the world, will he beat me to death on the spot?
Aaron's expression remained