Diary

“Ah!”

The Yanjing Academy student beside Wang Shuo had barely managed to let out a short scream before he was yanked off the ground.

Qin Wu, right next to him, reacted with astonishing speed. He lunged forward and grabbed hold of the student’s protective suit with all his strength.

“Hold on to me!”

Qin Wu gritted his teeth. His boots carved two deep furrows through the frozen soil, but with the two men’s combined weight, they were still slowly dragged toward the vortex.

“No!”

Long Ao let out a low growl. A flash of red light flickered across his body as the muscles in his arms bulged. He plunged both hands into the frozen ground, barely managing to keep himself from being dragged away.

“Yuehe!”

An Changqing turned around and grabbed Su Yuehe, who was stumbling under the pull of the suction. The long sword in his other hand buzzed ominously.

He shielded Su Yuehe behind him and shouted to the others, “Get behind me! Quickly!”

The team struggled toward him.

An Changqing drew his left foot half a step back, and the radiance of the long sword in his hand suddenly surged.

“Stars Shift and Constellations Move!”

He held the sword horizontally before him. Its blade traced an enigmatic arc, and an invisible field of repulsion spread outward with the tip of the sword as its center, forcibly opposing the vortex’s suction.

At the point where the two forces collided, the air crackled, sending out tiny sparks of electricity.

The vortex’s suction was forcefully deflected to one side, and Qin Wu and the student were flung sideways, temporarily escaping the danger of being swallowed directly.

But An Changqing’s face immediately paled, and beads of sweat formed on his forehead.

This was only a stopgap measure.

“Heh heh heh… Idiot. Using brute force to oppose the laws of space and time is no different from a mantis trying to stop a chariot.”

Baal’s voice echoed in Chen Guan’s mind.

“This thing was created by that Astaroth fellow. Twenty years have passed, but the essence of its power hasn’t changed.”

Chen Guan ignored him.

“How do we deal with it?”

“Use your power to devour it. It comes from the same source, so it’ll be effortless.”

Baal sounded unconcerned. The mighty and wise Lord Bael had anticipated this situation long ago.

Although Chen Guan wasn’t Astaroth’s chosen, Lord Bael was still behind him. What was wrong with borrowing a little authority from his little brother?

Chen Guan raised his left hand. The black mark in his palm grew faintly hot.

He took a step forward and stood beside An Changqing.

A completely different power surged from his palm. Instead of resisting the vortex’s suction, it actively met it head-on.

The moment the two forces touched, the vortex’s originally violent suction instantly subsided.

An Changqing felt the pressure ease and turned his head toward Chen Guan.

The raging vortex shrank at a visible speed, eventually stabilizing into a circular entrance just large enough for one person to pass through. A ghostly blue radiance flowed along its edges.

The surroundings fell into an eerie silence once more.

“This…”

Wang Shuo stared at the tranquil entrance, then at Chen Guan, so shocked that he couldn’t get a single word out.

What the hell was this monster?

“The entrance is stable.”

Chen Guan withdrew his hand. The bone-deep, searing sensation surged through him again. His arm seemed to have deteriorated even further.

He lowered his arm and used his sleeve to conceal the abnormality.

An Changqing stared at him for several seconds. In the end, he merely nodded and asked nothing.

The group cautiously passed through the entrance.

There was no dizziness from traveling through space and time. With just one step, the scene before them changed completely.

They found themselves in an abandoned camp.

Several simple canvas tents lay collapsed and scattered about. A powered-down detection device was covered in layers of hardened dust. On the table sat a half-finished cup of coffee, the liquid inside having long since solidified into an amber-colored mass.

Everything in the entire world had been preserved at a certain moment twenty years ago, like a dust-covered specimen.

“Time here… is frozen?”

Li Yuqing reached out, intending to touch the cup of coffee, but her fingertip passed straight through it.

“No. This is a relic solidified by the laws of space and time.”

Chen Guan spoke.

“Everything we see is merely a shadow of the past.”

Su Yuehe hadn’t been listening to their conversation.

Her gaze swept across every corner of the camp before finally settling on something beneath an overturned metal cabinet.

A tightly wrapped object covered in waterproof cloth was trapped underneath it.

She walked over, crouched down, and carefully pulled it free.

It was a black, hardcover diary.

Two characters had been carved into its cover with a sharp instrument.

Lu Ming.

Su Yuehe’s fingers brushed over the two characters, trembling faintly.

She opened the diary.

The yellowed pages were filled with bold, forceful handwriting.

The first page contained only a few words.

“I found it.”

“The power of the Word Spirit is both a divine miracle and the most vicious curse. Before it completely devours its host, I must find a way to separate it.”

Su Yuehe’s breathing stopped for a moment.

She continued turning the pages.

The second page read:

“My daughter, Yuehe, has been diagnosed as an ordinary person with no supernatural talent whatsoever. Su Jin’s composure disgusts me. She actually wants to accept this result and even send our daughter away. She’s insane.”

“I refuse to accept this. I refuse! How could beings like us possibly give birth to an ordinary child? This is a defect, an error that must be corrected.”

Su Yuehe’s face unconsciously paled.

She turned to the next page. Written there was nothing but a deranged plan.

“Extract the Word Spirit and fuse it with Yuehe’s genes. She will gain the power of a god. She will become the perfect creation—the first artificially created supernatural being.”

“From this day forward, anyone can ascend to godhood and become their own savior!”

The diary slipped from her hands and fell to the ground.

“How could this be…”

She murmured to herself, her body swaying. An Changqing caught her from behind.

“Yuehe?”

An Changqing hadn’t noticed the words at first and assumed she had been shaken by something else.

Chen Guan picked up the diary and continued flipping through it.

One page mentioned a name.

“The experiment is proceeding very poorly. The rejection response has exceeded my estimates, and Yuehe’s mental energy is being consumed without end. Perhaps I should seek out Astaroth’s chosen. They understand the mysteries of the soul.”

The diary ended there. All the pages that followed had been torn out.

Inside a compartment in the back cover, Chen Guan discovered an old photograph that had turned slightly yellow with age.

He handed it to Su Yuehe.

The photograph showed a swaddled infant facing the camera with an innocent smile.

It was her, not long after she had been born.

The baby in the swaddling clothes wore a wide grin, her smile so pure that it contained not a trace of impurity.

Su Yuehe’s fingertip stopped at the edge of the photograph. The tiny face that belonged to her looked so unfamiliar, as though it belonged to someone else.

Her hand trembled.

“Yuehe, what’s wrong?” An Changqing supported her by the shoulders, his voice filled with concern.

Following her gaze, he looked down and saw only the open diary and the old photograph.

Su Yuehe didn’t respond. She simply stared at the photograph.

Then she smiled.