The Narrator of the Past

Through layer upon layer of rock, Lin Jin stared straight at the sky above the wilderness.

"I still can't see through it. Today is no different."

Only after a long while did Lin Jin speak, his voice heavy.

Whenever his power grew by a certain amount, Lin Jin would try looking up at the sky to see whether he could glimpse the universe beyond the clouds.

Yet the result remained unchanged. No matter how strong he became, Lin Jin simply could not extend his divine sight through the clouds overhead.

"Even now, with most of a god's power, I still can't see the sky beyond the haze over the wilderness?"

There were no oceans or mountain ranges, only an endless wasteland forever swept by cold winds.

"The terrain here doesn't fit any natural ecosystem. Something is definitely wrong."

It made no sense however he looked at it. Lin Jin realized that his geographical knowledge from his previous life was completely useless in this world.

"Sigh..."

With a long sigh, Lin Jin ended his investigation and returned to his duties as the Sunfire God, answering his followers' daily prayers and helping resolve their troubles.

To avoid making the same mistakes as the gods in the original story, Lin Jin often reminded himself to respond actively to his followers, keep his ambitions grounded, and remain humble.

Most importantly, he had to prepare appropriate countermeasures in advance for the various threats that might arise in the future.

For now, the Sunrise Expedition was progressing smoothly. The expedition force built a bonfire in every place it conquered, but he still needed to plan ahead for the next step.

Below lay the Abyss; above lay the unknown. This world was far more dangerous than it appeared.

Lin Jin had actually been thinking all along about how to protect his little kingdom. Any one of the great horrors he knew of would bring despair that mortal bugs could never resist.

There were reasons why civilization struggled to develop in this world. The most obvious was that the resource-starved surface was ill-suited to its growth.

If that were all, however, it would have been manageable. Civilization could still develop despite the difficulties. What truly kept this world forever silent were the gods high above.

To put it bluntly, a casual move from any god could instantly topple an ancient civilization that had endured for thousands of years. That was how vast the gulf between mortal bugs and gods was.

Only another god could stand against a god.

Then, if the Flame Capital encountered another god filled with malice in the future, would he be able to resist?

Lin Jin thought he probably could not. Although he seemed impressive now, that was merely a story good enough to fool those inexperienced exiled clans.

At present, Lin Jin stood above mortal bugs but below a True God.

In an actual fight, he probably could not even defeat Unn, the weakest of the known gods.

After all, Unn was a genuine, astonishingly immense being who had absorbed faith for who knew how long, and remained so even in decline.

And what about him?

Even now, Lin Jin could not say exactly what kind of god he was. He called himself the Sunfire God simply because he had a special affinity for flames.

After all, he had only begun absorbing faith recently and still lacked that feeling. Godhood remained far away; he was merely drawing closer.

Ultimately, although everything in the Flame Capital seemed to be flourishing, it was nothing more than a castle in the air.

Lin Jin currently had no means of guaranteeing its safety. Any disaster could be enough to destroy it all.

Perhaps it was still too early to think about such problems, but he could never say which would come first: disaster or tomorrow.

The more he thought, the gloomier he became. Lin Jin decided to do something practical to shake off the feeling.

With a flicker of flame, Lin Jin instantly transported himself elsewhere.

The Great Library

Aemon's Chamber

Second only to the Sunfire Temple in size, the Great Library had been steadily bringing in the wisdom of the outside world ever since its establishment.

Following the principle that wisdom knew no boundaries, the Glow Clan gathered every piece of knowledge it could obtain without hesitation.

With such frenzied collecting, some ominous knowledge was, of course, bound to find its way in.

After receiving enlightenment from the Sunfire God, even the chroniclers most eager to record such knowledge realized that it might not be harmless.

But collecting it had taken enormous effort, and destroying it outright would have been too wasteful. Thus, Aemon's Chamber became the best place for it.

The chamber had been built on the personal orders of Aemon, the director of the Great Library, and lay at the very bottom of the entire library.

All knowledge that mortal bugs should not be allowed to see freely was stored here, left to wait.

It waited for the day when an otherwise insurmountable crisis would drive bugs here to leaf through it.

Countless mechanisms and traps, gates one after another, unimaginable malice lurking in the shadows of the corridors-the spells of the Soulfire Arts also ensured that no one could force their way in.

A paradise for the ambitious, a haven for those who respected no taboos: that was Aemon's Chamber.

Yet at this moment, a pitch-black figure barely distinguishable from the surrounding darkness sat bent over a desk in the chamber, writing.

Only the faint flame overhead illuminated the desk.

The Snail Shaman had been writing for some time, yet he continued tirelessly adding details and further chapters.

What he wrote was not some forbidden, vicious spell, but simply a historical account.

Some time had passed since he was brought here. The Sunfire God had ordered him to personally write down everything about the civilization of the past.

What he wrote would also determine what was to be done with him afterward.

This was both a test and an opportunity, and the Snail Shaman had never feared a challenge.

At that moment, the Snail Shaman could confidently say that he had never written any book or biography with such care in his entire life.

Tiny sparks gradually appeared in the air, and the temperature rose. The Snail Shaman noticed immediately.

He has come.

Just as the Snail Shaman realized this, Lin Jin's figure emerged from the little lantern.

Empowered by divine strength, even that tiny flame instantly released heat rivaling molten lava.

The moment of judgment had finally arrived.

"My lord, Sunfire God."

The Snail Shaman knelt on one knee and saluted. "As you commanded, I have recorded and compiled everything I know into a book. It is ready for your inspection at any time."

Lin Jin gave a slight nod and made the book on the desk fly into his hand.

The moment he held it, its weight surprised him, utterly at odds with its appearance.

The book's exterior was very plain. Its solid black cover bore only a title in large lettering.

Ironhold Chronicles.

Ironkeep? So that was the name of that ancient civilization. But by now, this land has changed its name. It is called the Flame Capital.

With that thought, Lin Jin opened the steel cover.

Unlike the vague, abbreviated, myth-laden account he had imagined, the contents were extremely detailed, with illustrations in some places.

It recorded everything from how the earliest inhabitants progressed from savagery to intelligence and began forming tribes, to the emergence of a king who united the scattered tribes and established a nation.

A close reading revealed that the snail tribe had been the first to pledge allegiance to the king.

Judging only by this opening section, it's more or less a standard Western tale of a king's rise. But the important part comes afterward.

Any ordinary bug who saw this account would surely have been awestruck and come to admire that king they had never met.

But the reader was Lin Jin, and he showed no strong reaction from beginning to end.

His unchanging expression gave the Snail Shaman the impression that, in a god's eyes, everything about mortal bugs was perhaps too insignificant to mention.

Lin Jin continued turning the pages. Thanks to the experiences of his previous life, he had developed a certain immunity to such stories, and the events that followed were no surprise either.

The king continued expanding outward until the entire mountain had been developed. At its highest point, he built the Torch Crown as a symbol of authority.

The structure itself resembled an enormous torch, visible even to bugs far out in the wilderness.

Beneath the Torch Crown, witnessed by countless bugs, the ruler was formally crowned king of Ironkeep.

Afterward, he vigorously developed technology, from rudimentary hydroelectric power generation to smelters for processing ore. At its height, Ironkeep even created airships capable of soaring through the sky.

"Airships?" Lin Jin raised an eyebrow, and the flames clinging to him could not help wavering.

The story of Hollow Knight unfolded almost entirely underground. What was the world above the surface like? It was scarcely described at all, so he was quite curious about these airships that could fly through the sky.

As he read on, all manner of new technologies and a powerful army marked Ironkeep's formal entry into its golden age.

If the story had ended there, it would have been a textbook power fantasy.

Unfortunately, like every dynasty, its prosperity could not last forever. The Ironkeep founded by the king began to decline.