Alfred's fingers kept tracing through the air. He had no intention of physically copying out the characters he saw right now. Instead, he wanted to commit every stroke and every nuance to memory, leaving them for him to slowly savor late at night.
The young master's handwriting isn't as beautiful as the inscription.
Although the thought was somewhat blasphemous, it was the truth.
The characters Kallen had previously written in the notebook and in daily life at Alfred's request certainly fell short of professional standards. Added to that, he had used Markley in everyday life these past few years, so his hand had long since grown rusty.
However, the characters in the inscription were concrete manifestations on the level of consciousness. This meant that Alfred had already grasped their essence through his intermittent studies and insights.
He had actually... gained an understanding of calligraphy.
A satisfied smile spread over Alfred's face. The fact that the young master's handwriting was not as beautiful did nothing to diminish his radiant, towering image in Alfred's heart. The young master was the original kindling, while the Firebearer was he-Alfred Sao.
Wasn't the young master deliberately granting me a reason to exist by not doing everything himself?
Little Kangna asked Philomina curiously, "Will you live here in the future too?"
Philomina shook her head. "It's too cramped here."
Byrne smiled. "Inside is the place we Order Followers most yearn to go after death. It is the highest honor of an Order Follower's life."
As he said this, Byrne licked his lips.
He was already very, very close to lying here.
Normally, he should have been like Pilo and the others, coming ahead of time to the section of coffins where he belonged to choose a spot he liked, filled with incomparable devotion and excitement.
But