Roselle's Diary and the Erdtree Church

While waiting for the appointed time, Leon took out the "Interpretation of the Symbols in Emperor Roselle's Lost Notes" that he had picked up in the weapons room.

It was time to learn about this fellow countryman of his, whose fate was unknown. Hopefully, he had left behind some useful information.

He quickly skimmed past Old Neil's analytical notes at the beginning and went straight to the rubbing of the original "notes."

Holy shit, Chinese-and simplified characters, too!

Leon's eyes widened. After confirming that the lost notes were actually diary entries, he couldn't help but marvel.

It wasn't as though he had never encountered fellow countrymen who had left messages in Chinese in other worlds, but this was the first one who had fucking written a diary and passed it down.

Leon lay down in a comfortable position and began to read, just as he had read his favorite novel as a child.

"November 18. What an amazing thing. A fanciful experiment and a chance mistake allowed me to discover a poor fellow trapped in a storm and lost in the depths of darkness. He can only draw a little closer to the real world during the full moon each month, yet he still cannot make his cries reach it. He is fortunate, for he met me, the protagonist of this age."

"After writing the passage above, I read it over and suddenly felt a little wistful. Even when writing in Chinese, I've unconsciously picked up a heavy translationese style. Forty years have passed in the blink of an eye. My memories of the past really do seem like a dream now."

"January 1, 1184. A grand New Year's party. Madam Flonal truly is a stunning beauty."

Hah! Leon couldn't help letting out a cold laugh. He knew it-no one who kept a diary was respectable. What respectable person wrote their innermost thoughts in a diary?

"January 2. The gentlemen on my diplomatic committee are all jackasses!"

"January 3. My choice back then was far too hasty. Looking at it now, whether it was Apprentice, Seer, or Marauder, any of them would have been better. Unfortunately, there's no going back."

That settled it. This was a fellow countryman through and through. Leon's eyes half-closed as he felt a trace of boredom. So far, Roselle was no different from the other fellow countrymen he had encountered, and the general information was much as he had expected.

He had transmigrated to this world, survived, and then found ways to show off.

"January 4. Why are my children so stupid? I've told them ten thousand times not to be fooled by those charlatans. No, perhaps those charlatans have been fooled themselves. The key to Potions isn't mastery, but digestion! It isn't excavation, but acting! And a Potion's name isn't just its core symbol, but also a concrete image, and even the 'key' to its digestion!"

Only then did Leon begin to take an interest. This passage was entirely consistent with the Acting Method Klein had told him about.

Leon's gaze shifted slightly as he sensed something questionable. This seemed to be a rather secret method.

From what Klein had said, Dunn's reaction showed that even the captain of a Nighthawks squad had not known about this method.

And even though Emperor Roselle had already been a High Sequence powerhouse when he wrote this diary entry, he had not told his own children about it.

The fact that he had written his complaints down in Chinese likewise supported Leon's conjecture.

As for why, he couldn't figure it out.

"September 22. An alliance against me is forming. From Feysac in the north and Loen in the east to Feynapotter in the south, my enemies have finally come together. But I'm not afraid. I'll show them that the generational gap in weapons and knowledge can't be bridged by numbers and low-Sequence Beyonders. Besides, it's not as though I don't have any under my command. And as for the top tier, heh heh, have they forgotten who I am?"

"September 23. I've lost contact with the ships searching for the Forsaken Land of the Gods. I should consider inventing wireless telegraphy. Hopefully, it won't be affected by storms."

"September 24. Miss Ysacc is more charming than Madam Flonal. Perhaps I'm just nostalgic for youth."

After reading the last word, Leon casually tossed the document behind him and put it into his storage bag.

Although it contained a little useful information, he didn't pay it much mind.

Aside from the first few passages, the rest was not particularly valuable. A diary that had circulated for so long was not all that credible.

If Roselle had a nasty enough sense of humor, he might even have deliberately left behind a few pieces of false information. Leon was in the habit of regarding the moral standards of these fellow countrymen of his as only a step above nonexistent.

As for the being in the diary who could only draw a little closer to the real world during the full moon, perhaps Leon could find an opportunity to contact him and ask whether he still remembered a fellow named Roselle.

He checked the time. With twenty minutes left, Leon took out the old booklet the high-ranking deacon had given him.

It contained everything the Church knew about the Erdtree Church.

He didn't rush to open it. Instead, he went to the Roundtable Hold first.

Under the light of the Greater Grace, Leon placed the booklet on the round table and slowly opened it.

According to the records, this was an unusual sect that could be traced back to the Third Epoch.

They believed in the "Golden Order" represented by the Erdtree and used a special ring-shaped pattern as the symbol of their existence.

They believed that the root of the current world's chaos was the countless erroneous variants produced during its evolution. As such, they believed the Golden Order was a set of absolutely perfect, eternally unchanging rules capable of correcting all errors and disorder in the world.

The Church had yet to discover a complete Sequence Pathway that could be directly mastered. Its members belonged to a variety of Pathways and kept their movements secret, operating mainly on the Southern Continent.

Leon continued flipping through the booklet and found more material than he had expected, though it was rather fragmentary. Most of it consisted of yellowed newspaper clippings, handwritten eyewitness accounts, and a few photographs.

Most of the corpses in the photographs wore hooded robes, and the backgrounds were largely scenes of ritual sites that had been destroyed.

One was a little clearer. A line of ornate lettering could be seen carved into a totem. It was not Loenese, but ancient Hermes, and it looked more like something someone had casually scrawled.

"The rule at the beginning of all things, the final solution where cause and effect converge; the flawless Golden Order, the embodiment of eternal order."

These phrases were scattered across different clippings and had been circled in red ink by the Church staff member who had compiled the documents years ago.

This should be the original Honorific Name of the god worshiped by the Erdtree Sect. Leon studied it in puzzlement. It was vastly different from the highly specific prayer that had summoned him here.

This completely confirmed his earlier conjecture: his descent had indeed been orchestrated by someone.

Leon picked up the photograph and turned it over. He found another line of small writing on the back. The handwriting was different from that on the front, neater, as though it had been added later.

"There are indications that it is divided internally into several factions. The two most powerful are those who advocate 'continuing to wait patiently' and those who advocate 'actively seeking descent.'"

Leon's gaze lingered on the words "actively seeking descent" for a moment.

It reminded him that the letter had mentioned his predecessor as the Child of Prophecy. He was just about to continue reading when he realized the appointed time was nearly upon him.

With no other choice, Leon swept everything into his storage bag. He checked the time and reached into the Greater Grace at the very center.

Then two figures who had long been ready rushed out of the firelight and landed on the chairs.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Stars." Miss Spectator's voice rang through the ancient hall.