The towering walls of Holletta stood in front of everyone. Every brick, tile, and even every line on the walls attracted the attention of the otherworldlings from Earth. They looked at the ancient and glorious city in amazement, at its magnificent and sturdy buildings, at the people moving between these buildings, at the Letta runes engraved on the surface of the buildings, and at the things that these things gradually revealed, transcending the material foundation: culture and heritage.
The alienation was still there, and the sense of strangeness was inevitable. In fact, Hao Ren almost never expected the otherworldlings from Earth to feel homesickness after seeing the Plane of Dreams. It was impossible because their memory in this regard had long been completely lost with the impact of the Sin of the Divine Blood. But he still expected the ancient otherworldlings with profound knowledge to feel the weight of cultural heritage after seeing the Plane of Dreams. This sense of richness had nothing to do with whether they recognized or understood it. It was permeated in every brick and tile of every civilization that had been baptized over the years. As long as it came from a civilization, it would naturally be able to smell it, and it would help every "chosen one" realize the "reality" of the Plane of Dreams. As long as this "reality" was established, the otherworldlings on Earth would wholeheartedly recognize the existence of this world and think about it as an established fact, thinking about the meaning of this "hometown" to them.
Where was culture and heritage? Not in repeated propaganda, not in tourist brochures, and not in the holographic projection in the loop in the Petrachelys. It could only be in the place where it was born and multiplied: the ancient buildings, the oral language, and the text that had experienced the vicissitudes of time. These were all its carriers. The peddlers in the streets and alleys were culture, the repair skills of the cobblers along the street were culture, the coat of arms on the royal knights' helmets were culture, and even the waving gesture of the pedestrians on the street when they saw a visitor was culture. These things had been passed down from ancient times to the present and had become elements that people were accustomed to and displayed in front of you. This was heritage.
The otherworldlings living on Earth did not have these things, which was the saddest thing about them. Even in the glorious and powerful Mythological era, when they ruled the entire planet by force and made the real indigenous masters of the planet tremble at their feet, they could not change the fact that they had no culture and heritage. They did not know what kind of ancestors they should worship, did not know the meaning of their names, and did not know their social structure and technological system. The powerful Olympian gods were just a chaotic family. Every indigenous god on the Mesopotamian plain lived a chaotic life of constantly collecting treasures and food and then sleeping after eating. Even if some of them racked their brains and outlined some etiquette, law, and culture in a flash of inspiration, their scarce and extremely unstable race could not maintain it.
So the otherworldlings on Earth did not have their own cultural heritage, and they had never thought about what it would be like if their own race had their own cultural heritage.
In the Night Nobles district of the royal city, young aristocrats from the Holletta Blood Clan enthusiastically introduced the origin and myths of the Night Nobles to their compatriots on Earth. They mentioned that the first Lord of the Blood Clan was born from the sap of the Seed of Origin, and that the patron saint of the early Blood Clan was a god named Hertoli, who lived on a larger moon. Even today, some old Blood Clan people living in remote areas believed in these illusory stories.
While visiting a war gallery, the werewolf general of the kingdom, Elson, proudly told the werewolves from Earth that their race had been the bravest and best at fighting on the planet since ancient times. They were also the early explorers of shadow magic. Although the werewolves were later surpassed by the vampires in the field of shadow magic due to their limited physique, the werewolves' achievements in the search for the truth had always been recognized by the world. The werewolves once built a powerful magic empire on this planet, and until today, the kingdoms they built were still a pivotal force in the world. He also told his ignorant compatriots from Earth that the werewolves had a sacred mountain in the west of the kingdom, which was covered with snow all year round. It was the wish of almost every werewolf to be able to go on a pilgrimage to the sacred mountain...
The Runic Dwarves did not find their lost inheritance of enchantment technology, because the technology had also been lost in Holletta. But the Runic Dwarves found something more precious than that: they found their ancestral text.
The text was engraved on 122 slates and kept in the treasury of the Holletta Royal Family. If it were not for this extraordinary "visit", the stingy King Mhoren might not have been willing to show these treasures to others. The attitude of the Runic Dwarves when they saw the slates even stunned Hao Ren. A group of rugged dwarves, who looked like muscular mounds, hugged each other and burst into tears. Their big beards were wet with snot and tears, and there was no sign of their indifference when they set off.
Hao Ren did not have much contact with these Runic Dwarves. He only knew that they used to be part of the Norse gods. Before the Twilight of the Gods, they got wind of it, built a giant brass ship, and escaped from the capsized Yggdrasil. They fled to the depths of the ocean under the nose of the demon hunters and lived in seclusion underground. They were the origin of many strange stories about the underground monsters and the earth cavities on Earth. It was not until the recent establishment of the Shadow Council that these reclusive people came out again.
Hao Ren curiously asked Hesperides about the Runic Dwarves, and finally figured out what was going on.
"They have been looking for their lost words," Hesperides said, pointing to the Runic Dwarves with bald heads and beards that almost touched the ground. "They attach great importance to the inheritance of words, but when they crossed over to Earth 10,000 years ago, they lost the most memory about words. Do you see the symbols on their skin? That is the 'words' that they barely kept. It is said that the first generation of Runic Dwarves could only vaguely remember these symbols when they first woke up, and then they immediately engraved these things on themselves. As they engraved, they forgot the meaning of these symbols until they were covered in blood, and they completely forgot their own words. From that day onwards, every generation of rune dwarves would carve the words of their fathers onto their own bodies, using this method to pass on these things from generation to generation, hoping that one day they would be able to decipher them and once again understand the mystery of their own words. But perhaps because of the influence of the Sin of the Divine Blood, all their efforts in this regard have failed … "
In Hesperides's quiet narration, Hao Ren could restore the scene in his mind.
Ten thousand years ago, Yggdrasil carried countless refugees from the Plane of Dreams and fought a bloody path in the terrible energy storm caused by the deicidal war. It tore the Wall of Reality and crashed on Earth. Many of the ark's passengers died the moment they landed.
The surviving refugees were ejected from Yggdrasil one by one under the control of some automatic program and thrown to all corners of Earth. The planet was still barren at that time, and only grasslands, forests, swamps, and wastelands welcomed the refugees. Although Yggdrasil may have screened the landing site in advance based on the environmental index of the landing planet, a considerable number of more vulnerable refugees died in the first few days to a few months.
The rest of them woke up in fear and confusion.
It was under such circumstances that the rune dwarves woke up. They woke up in the cold tundra of ancient Europe. It was like a long and realistic nightmare, and then they found that the nightmare had come true. They did not know where they came from, where they were going, or where this world was. Perhaps they wanted to record the information they had gathered firsthand, but they were horrified to find that they were gradually forgetting their own words. In the process of memory loss, they could only choose to carve those things in the most unlikely place to be forgotten: on their bodies.
Then they carved for ten thousand years.
The rune dwarves excitedly asked the Kingdom of Holletta to allow them to take away a copy of the slate rubbing. Of course, their request was granted, so they hugged each other and cried again. These loud guys almost made the entire gallery stop talking. After the dwarves calmed down a little, Hao Ren could not help but sigh to Hesperides. "I didn't expect that there are otherworldlings on Earth like them who are struggling to find the lost cultural heritage. I thought all of you were dismissive of those things. "
"Because the runic dwarves escaped the Twilight of the Gods, they are one of the races that suffered the least after the end of the Mythological Era, probably second only to the undamaged sirens. So they have extra energy to think about the issue of cultural heritage," Hesperides said faintly. "As for us … many of us are not indifferent to these things, but we have no spare energy at all. Just like me, there are only a few survivors of the entire Olympus family, including me. How can we have time to think about the ownership of civilization?"
Vivian said, "But weren't you fascinated when someone talked about the Thunder Giant in the War Gallery?"
Hesperides's expression changed. She deliberately kept a straight face and did not say anything.
Hao Ren smiled slightly, watching the 'tourists' he brought continue to visit under the guidance of the 'tour guides' arranged by Holletta. After a long time, he nodded and said, "Anyway, it's useful."
"But the biggest significance is not here," the MDT floated next to him and reminded him.
"Of course, the biggest significance is not here." Hao Ren nodded slightly and then looked up. His eyes seemed to penetrate the vault of the building, staring directly at the endless deep space of the universe.
More and more divine oscillations were emerging everywhere in the Plane of Dreams and were captured by the drone cluster.
A "network" that had been well-hidden seemed to have finally surfaced.
You've already exceeded your reading limit for today. If you want to read more, please log in.
Login
Select text and click 'Report' to let us know about any bad translation.
