The bard fantasized again.

Chapter 6 The Grave Moved
On the western shore of the Forgotten Continent, in the Terran Empire, at the Bard's Song Academy.

"Goya, you have disappointed me greatly!"
I asked you to describe Mr. Versace's righteous act of personally going to the border to provide disaster relief for the people—

What does it mean to say, "The nobles' money is returned in full, while the commoners' money is split 30/70"?

"Dear mentor, I am simply writing down everything I have seen..."

"That won't do! Mr. Versace is a rising star in the empire. Offending him won't benefit our academy's funding this year!"

"I--"

"Take it back and change it. Don't make me do it again!"

"Of course, as you wish, mentor."

Seeing his most prized student return to his seat with a bitter face, Ulasang finally let out a long sigh.

Please, he's the author of "One Thousand and One Praises," Ulasang!
I was able to get the position of dean entirely thanks to this textbook.

If any of his students slanders the noble lord, his own reputation will be ruined!

He was unwilling to lose the privileges that came with his position.

After reprimanding his students, Ulasang was finally able to sit upright at the low table and carefully examine the empty parchment on it.

He raised and lowered the quill pen several times, but couldn't bring himself to write anything.

The textbook "Praise" has been used for twenty years, and most noble gentlemen are tired of hearing it.

He had to come up with more templates of praise, expanding it to two thousand sentences, in order to maintain the academy's status.

Achieving a level of complete repetition is no easy feat.

The flickering candlelight illuminated his reading glasses, revealing the clear cold sweat on his balding forehead.

The outdoor corridor was also very noisy.

The sounds of discussion, running, and jumping were incessant, like flies swarming around a rotten egg.

In the end, he could no longer bear the frustration in his heart.

In a fit of rage, he crumpled the papers on the table into a ball and threw them into the fireplace some distance away.
"What time is it already? What the hell is all that noise outside?!"

Hearing her mentor's roar, Goya, who had just settled down, was startled.

She quickly got up and pushed open the office door.

Many students rushed past in the corridor.

The Academy of Poets has always promoted music and art, and in order to ensure students' initiative, discipline has always been lax.

It's common for people to hold singing and dancing parties or social gatherings in the dorm late at night, only to find more than a dozen people messing around in bed when they wake up in the morning.

But no one would really bother a teacher so much.

Goya had been studying at the academy for six years, and this was the first time she had ever witnessed such a grand scene of a large number of students spontaneously running towards the courtyard.

She grabbed a passing student, turned sideways, and looked expectantly towards the end of the corridor.

In reality, it was a deliberate act to show off his left cheek.

She felt that her left profile was more attractive:
"Excuse me, is something wrong?"

"Senior Yuexi?"

The other party also did not expect to be stopped by the renowned [Geya Yuexi] of the academy.

He would find it difficult not to recognize the other person.

After all, elves seem to be on the verge of extinction on this continent.

Not to mention the even rarer half-elves.

It's extremely rare to see someone deliberately dye their hair a striking pink.

He composed himself, his tone inevitably hurried, and then pointed towards the courtyard:
"Haven't you heard? Just recently, a new record appeared on the Forgotten Stone!"

"What!?"

Goya forced herself to keep her expression within a respectable range.

So as not to ruin the beauty of her face.

But she knew exactly what that meant—

Legend has it that the Forgotten Stone was the work of a certain god.

He solidified memory into a tangible form, transforming it into an eternal monument that stands at the heart of the Academy of Poets.

Therefore, wandering poets would always inscribe their sights and sounds on this monument and use magic to categorize and summarize them.

It is used to record the history of the mainland and the rise and fall of various countries, and is considered a history book of the mainland.

It was also to enrich the academy's story library, so that future generations could write even better poems and songs.

It is the foundation upon which the Academy of Poets stands.

But later, perhaps it was some arrogant being—everyone guessed it was an elf, since they had disappeared—that angered the gods, who then unleashed the harshest punishment and curse.

Overnight, history books were turned into blank pages, and people began to unconsciously and irregularly forget the past.

Even if new history is recorded, the content will disappear the next day. Great achievements can only be passed down and continued through oral tradition.

People were not initially aware of the consequences.

But as time goes by, one hundred years, two hundred years...

The brilliant deeds of our ancestors, like stars in the sky, eventually gave rise to many different versions due to the drawbacks of oral transmission, until they lost their basis and disappeared into the long river of history.

This severely damaged the existing order.

The chaos of class and ethics swept across the entire continent.

The glorious nation thus fell, and a new power rose from the ground... Everything on that monument, like the history books, became flat and smooth enough to be used as a mirror.

The Academy of Poets also fell apart due to the war.

This makes it difficult for true poets to continue their legacy, and they eventually disappear without a trace.

Even now, the rulers of the Terran Empire, in an attempt to replace written records with spoken language so that poets could sing of the empire's great achievements for generations to come, have declared the revival of this declining academy.

There have been no results yet.

Because of the long interval, many professors believed that the so-called 'stone tablet' was just a cover-up for the legend that the poets were not so pitiful.

Even though they upheld the dignity of the stone tablet, they never held any further hope.

Not to mention the students.

Even if people don't believe in the legend of the stone tablet, they can't help but come and join in the fun after hearing about such a strange thing.

The junior student awkwardly invited:

"Senior Yuexi, would you like to come with me to take a look?"

After a brief moment of surprise, Goya winked at him and returned his smile:

"I'll be right there."

"Then I'll wait for you?" The junior's face lit up with joy.

Goya tugged at the name tag on her junior's chest: "I remember your name, Su Wen. See you in the courtyard later."

"Then I wait for you!"

He thought he had been chosen.

Only after Su Wen crossed the end of the corridor did the smile on Ge Ya's lips fade, replaced by a coldness and weariness.

She wouldn't let the other person sense even the slightest hint of rejection.

But they will never keep any of their promises.

Her casual agreement was merely a way to further highlight her charm and approachability.

This is required for promotion to a full-fledged teaching assistant.

Suppressing her confusion about the Forgotten Stone, she quickly walked to her mentor, bowed, and replied:

“Mentor, I heard from them that someone has inscribed new history on the Forgotten Stone.”

"It's such a small matter, why make such a fuss?"

What did you say!?

A forgotten stone tablet? Who, who wrote it!?

"It's not clear yet."

"Come with me quickly and let's take a look!"

This blank stone tablet commemorates the world's forgotten history.

It is the graveyard of the world.

But now someone suddenly tells you that the grave mound has moved.

Not only did it move, but someone also engraved an epitaph on it.

The impact of this event is far greater than the sudden appearance of a shell-like ship laden with mind flayers and tadpoles from the horizon!
Ulasang didn't even care about his appearance, and hurriedly tried to rush to the courtyard with his short legs.

As he pushed open the door, a cool breeze swept across his thinning hair.

He quickly coughed and called out:
"Goya, quickly bring me my wig!"

After tidying himself up and maintaining a presentable appearance, he walked through the bustling crowd.

Meanwhile, the wandering poets had already surrounded the black stone tablet, which was a hundred feet high and half a hundred feet wide, in the center of the courtyard.

"Dean!"

They quickly retreated to a side path, while Ulasang bowed to both sides and straightened his back.

Upon closer inspection, a dazzling light shone on the dark stone tablet, like a bright star in the clouds, clearly visible.

Staring intently at that 'starlight,' I saw it transform into a stream of water, slowly extending and converging into strings of floating universal characters—

"Is the above a record of the author's experience yesterday?"

Goya read through the contents and found the words utterly amusing.

"Although the language is a bit vulgar, it's surprisingly...interesting?"

[June 7, 1000 of the Lost Calendar, Xingmei Town, torrential rain.]

A year after I officially embarked on my travels, I was kicked out of the bar...

The year 1000 of the Lost Calendar marks the 1000th year the world began to commemorate the past.

June 7th, that was yesterday.

But within the Terren Empire, all was calm and peaceful.

I admit that the last performance was a disaster, but I have realized what the problem was.

I definitely won't mess it up the second time, as long as I get a chance to prove myself—

I will never be mocked in the same tavern twice!
Just wait, I'll make you shut your mouths and stop smirking.

We willingly offer our applause and cheers!

Damn it, I was just about to put my pen away when the piano string broke.

(End of this chapter)