CHAPTER 844: A WORLD IN MINIATURE

Adam rolled his eyes when he read Leoric’s next lines.

"Excuse me for the outburst, heir, but I’ll cut this historical recollection short. We defeated the demonic general, and I believed the realm would enter an era of peace. A mistake that didn’t account for what we lost for this victory. The abridged version is: someone who shouldn’t have died did. Everything after that became a downward spiral of madness that consumed Haldris and his wife.

With the demonic threat cleared, they compelled me and the five other Houses to do the unthinkable... and I followed for the promise of reuniting with Cordelia. Against all odds, that madness earned us the very province my island was in, but not the return of our loved ones. The realms’ guardians called it a reward. It was a forced exile, a method to evict the most dangerous humans along with Leviathan in a miniaturised world.

I did not care, however. I made peace with the idea that I would never reunite with my wife. But if we could build a paradise Cordelia would have been proud of, one where no man would cry over his wife’s dead body, I was fine with it."

"Huh?!" Adam jerked his head back, his wide eyes reflecting the surreal words. He read the passage once, then read it again. It didn’t change.

That forced exile was not how they arrived in the cultivation realm. No, it meant something else entirely.

"Did I, Julius, Selene, the Beast Emperor, and even the magus, live in that miniaturised world without knowing about it?!" As he yelped, a memory tore through his mind.

The hulking pupil that had scrutinised him from the rift in the sky before Luna’s pull into the dream place. He had believed that the beast was thousands of kilometers long, some kind of godly creature even more powerful than Leviathan herself, but if he had been miniaturised, it made sense! Not that it was reassuring, though.

Just remembering that creature’s glare and the bronze pillar that had descended from the heavens to grab him still sent a chill down his spine. And the magical world! That was why Leoric kept referring to it as a realm.

He gripped the armrest of the sofa, letting the new information settle for a couple of minutes. Then, he sighed and picked the grimoire up. He had to learn more, to understand more. Leoric could throw anything he wanted at him; he would accept it. But he would not remain clueless.

Without wasting a second, he resumed his reading.

"Most were fine with it as well. The demons were gone, and we had a paradise to shape. Everything went well at first. But after five thousand years, the shadows of madness melded, and the spiral grew.

For reasons I still can’t figure out, our pathetic leader weakened, as if the powers he had once wielded as The Fool were fading. He was still the most powerful among us, so most didn’t notice, but I did. I remained silent, for the time of brute strength was gone. I couldn’t have expected that treachery would come from the very child he and his wife raised like a treasure.

He chose to flee instead of fighting back. None of us understood, none of us agreed. But by loyalty, most followed.

Using the petrified leader of the demons, the power of Aamon’s cleaver, Leviathan’s help, and the combined might of the seven Houses’ mythical magi and the fool himself, we tore a world passage open. And we left our paradise through it.

The natives of our new home called themselves cultivators, but none of us cared. We wrested an archipelago in the east, signed pacts of non-aggression with the three dao ancestors, and swore not to expand our territory. But through it all, the fool changed.

He had been a carefree man, unaffected by the flaws that had plagued us before he shattered their hold on us. However, he had become as flawed as I had been when I lost Cordelia, and I could feel that same sickness slithering back into me.

I sought answers with him, confronted him about our shameful escape, about what was happening to him—to us.

I never found the answer. Instead, he confined me to his new college. I knew nothing good awaited me. Therefore, I did what I had to—I prepared for the worst. This grimoire records Cordelia and my achievements in magic.

I’ll pour everything I have left into a perfect copy of Cordelia—a golem that won’t have her soul or spells, but technique and judgement. And since you’ve inherited it, she either acknowledged your Orrivandrel blood or your predisposition to chaos; even I doubt anyone could ever satisfy her with the latter. I know it was a hard battle, but I hope you understand I can’t let anyone but the best uncover the truth, not when the mad fool still rules.

I’m sure the other Houses will fall after me. The truth, whatever it is, will be buried. But they are not fools. They’ll prepare like I do. Perfect yourself. Learn to wield my blade using Cordelia’s chaotic movements. Find other heirs. And when you’re ready, find me, or whatever remains of me. I painted the location on the giant golem."

Adam stopped when he drew to the next page. He had reached the explanation about the room he had read earlier, but now the heir of Orrivandrel made much more sense.

He took a deep, long breath as he sorted through his discoveries.

The statue of Nyxara had been used to open a world passage. That’s why he had found it broken.

"A supreme mage, a beast even more powerful, a tier nine demonic artifact, the remains of a tier nine demon, and seven mythical magi. If they couldn’t open a world passage with all that, no one can. It should have been a small one, though. That explains how they ended up in the cultivation realm."

He tapped a finger on his lips, a deep furrow creasing his brow. "Not the why, at least, not as much as I would have wanted to. Who was that child? Why flee? I’m still as clueless as Leoric. At least I know Desmond has ancestors from Orrivandrel, not that it matters. The golem likely granted me access to the room after feeling my chaotic mana circuits."

He shook his head, finding it difficult to settle on a definitive answer. During his class, Haldris hadn’t given him the impression of being mad. Weird at worst, but not mad. On the other hand, he felt sad about Leoric’s story. To think the female golem that had almost killed him and Desmond was a copy of his wife...

"Yeah, bastard! I’m sorry for your loss and everything you went through. Truly. But that was not just a hard battle. We almost died several times!" he snorted, yet a soft smile curved his lips. "You didn’t want to let anyone else protect your legacy, right? I guess I can only find you if I want to vent about the difficulty. The location..."

He paced, remembering the colossal golem’s paintings as pale moonlight illuminated his face. There was no marked location. His eyes narrowed in focus. Actually, there was something: the place where the silvery broadsword had been planted. "Western part of the noble district of Brineheart? I’ll check it out in a few years. First, I need to find more legacies, piece the rest of the story with Leoric’s, and perfect my mana technique."

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AN: Adam finally learned that the magic world was just a province.