Chapter 33
Well, I’d already received the Rainbow Stone as an advance payment, so I couldn’t exactly say, “I already know all this information, so I’m not doing it.”
Following Adrian’s request, I entered the historical archives and began examining the materials.
This was my first time ever digging through books like this to find specific information.
After all, I came from a world where all you had to do was type a keyword into the vast sea of the internet, and everything you needed would pop right up.
There was a time when I enjoyed going to libraries—spending entire summer days reading there under the cool breeze of the air conditioner.
Even then, though, all I had to do was search the library database for the title I wanted, then walk over to the listed location. Such was the convenience of a civilized society.
But here? No such luxury.
They could float ships in the sky using magic, but apparently couldn’t implement a search function.
“Let’s see, materials related to the Silvagrove Forest…”
As I was browsing the shelves like that for a while, I stumbled upon a very old book. So old, it didn’t even have a title on the spine.
No, it didn’t even feel like a book—more like a hardbound notebook.
I carefully opened it.
And then I was baffled.
“Is… is this a diary?”
It was unmistakably a personal journal. There were no years listed, but every page had dates, clearly indicating it was a diary.
But what threw me off even more was—
“…M-Middle Korean?”
The pages were filled with old Korean characters—letters you’d only ever see in textbooks: the “arae-a” vowel, the bilabial ‘b’, and many others no longer in use.
The only two characters I could even name were those, thanks to what little I’d learned in school. Most of the writing looked completely alien.
I stared in shock at the sheer absurdity.
Who would ever imagine coming across Middle Korean in another world?
“I can’t read this.”
It was definitely Korean, but I couldn’t understand it.
And what was even more ridiculous—the date portions were clearly written in Arabic numerals.
Shouldn’t a diary written in this ancient Korean script be using Chinese characters for dates instead?
But here they were—modern Arabic numerals. What kind of horrific hybrid was this?
I let out a dry laugh.
“I don’t remember seeing any Middle Korean text in the game.”
It was confusing, but I resolved myself and tried to slowly read it, bit by bit.
I was curious why something like an old diary was sitting in the historical archive.
But that attempt didn’t last long.
A hand in white gloves suddenly closed the page I was reading, blocking my view.
“…What are you doing?”
“A-Adrian! Um, I wasn’t slacking off or anything, I swear…!”
I stammered, caught red-handed while satisfying my curiosity instead of finding the actual material I was sent to look for.
After all the help Adrian had given me, this wasn’t how I should be repaying him.
“Can you read ancient script? As far as I know, most people can’t, since it resembles our modern writing but has many unfamiliar characters.”
“Oh, that was ancient script? No, I can’t read it either.”
I answered honestly.
It’s not like I majored in Korean linguistics—how was I supposed to read that?
Still, right before Adrian covered the page, I had managed to recognize a single word.
The goddess Hagonia.
Though it had been written with the archaic ‘녀’ instead of ‘여’, and used the “arae-a” vowel, I could still tell it was referring to a goddess.
It was probably a diary left by a hero from the distant past.
“This isn’t the material we’re looking for. We don’t have much time, so I’d appreciate it if you avoided distractions.”
“Y-yes! Sorry.”
I awkwardly handed him the diary.
I was still curious about the contents, but he was right—this wasn’t the time.
Sneaking a glance, I saw Adrian silently return the diary to its original place on the shelf.
As if nothing had happened, he moved on to another shelf and resumed his search.
Yet, for some reason, I kept glancing toward that spine with no label.
I couldn’t stop thinking about that diary… but only for a little while.
Eventually, I returned to the task at hand.
We searched through the reading room until quite late and finally found the material we needed. Adrian decided to transcribe a copy by hand.
It wasn’t like we could take valuable historical documents into a dangerous place.
“Can’t they make a magical photocopier or something using divine blessings?”
After all, wasn’t even the magic book in my inventory a replica made with a goddess’s blessing?
They had the ability to replicate weapons, but not documents? Everything had to be copied by hand?
That wasn’t just tedious—that was ridiculous.
From what I’d heard while training in the workshop and forge, this world did have movable type printing for mass production.
When I asked Adrian about it, he said that using divine blessings for equipment replication was extremely expensive, so it wasn’t used for simple document duplication.
I wanted to offer to help him copy it, but I had my own preparations to make.
Reluctantly, I decided to leave it to him.
With that, it was time to leave the library.
But that diary still tugged at me.
Damn curiosity.
I was dying to know. There was no way I’d be able to sleep tonight.
It would haunt me until morning.
“Um, Adrian. I have a question—can I ask?”
“…What is it? Go ahead.”
Even as I spoke, Adrian didn’t lift his head. He kept transcribing with his quill.
For a second, I wondered if I was just wasting a busy man’s time with something silly—but for the sake of my good night’s sleep, I had to ask.
“That book from earlier… the one written in ancient script? That diary-looking thing. Can I ask what it is?”
At that, he finally put down his pen and looked up at me.
Through his reading glasses, his sky-blue eyes gave off a cool glint.
“I just… couldn’t stop wondering. Why is such an old diary in the archives… hehe.”
Without meaning to, I found myself making excuses under his gaze.
Maybe he was still annoyed I’d been slacking off earlier?
Adrian removed his glasses and let them hang around his neck, then stood up.
He walked over to the shelf, pulled out the diary, and said:
“This diary is a very valuable document. It contains the very first recorded history.”
“The first recorded history?”
I blinked slowly and asked again. Adrian gave a small nod.
“It’s the oldest book we have that details how a goddess’s champion defeated the forces of the demon Poneros. There were many champions before him, of course, but no records survive from earlier times.”
“O-oh… that’s incredible…”
I shrank a little, answering in a sheepish voice.
No wonder Adrian had looked so stern. This wasn’t just any book—it was the oldest surviving historical record.
I felt embarrassed for casually flipping through it, wondering why something like that would even be here.
But Adrian continued, unfazed by my reaction.
“The author of this adventure log was a mage who lived a thousand years ago. He recorded in detail the battles he and his companions fought against the demon’s forces. And when they finally defeated them… all his comrades had died. Only the mage survived.”
Gulp.
The somber story left me speechless, with only a dry swallow.
If this had been a game story, it would’ve been a great fantasy plot.
Though if it were a game, I’d probably be screaming, “You monsters! You killed everyone but the main character! Give us back our party!”
But there are always people who prefer those heart-wrenching tales.
Still, imagine that happening in real life.
Being the only one left while all your friends died? No one could stay sane after that.
As I imagined myself in the mage’s shoes, my eyes grew moist.
“Hmm, and the mage died too. The official record says he succumbed to wounds sustained in the final battle… but who knows?”
Adrian let out a soft chuckle as he returned the diary to its place.
He didn’t elaborate, but I could guess what he meant.
Was it really his injuries?
Or did the emotional scars from losing everyone make him give up on life?
Not that he took his own life—but rather, he slowly withered, having lost the will to live.
That kind of death.
“…”
The mood had turned very heavy.
All I did was ask about a book, and now I’d been hit with such a tragic tale.
“After his death, his adventure log became the foundation for the Hagion Order of Heroes. His best friend became the first commander and founder of the order. The organization was created to support the goddess’s champions so that none would have to die like he did.”
“Oh…”
I let out a breath, more a whisper of awe than anything.
So it wasn’t just the oldest document—it was the very reason the Hagion Order existed in the first place.
That tattered old diary wasn’t just old—it was a priceless piece of history.
