Fool's Library

"I will use the sword in my hand to cut down all obstacles—"

"But if Father remains obstinate and blocks this path, then you will be my enemy."

This is Hiltina's greedy demand, but it is also a declaration of the young girl's rebellion against her father.

In the distant distance, the palace complex shrouded in twilight remained silent, seemingly offering no response.

But, the next moment.

In the capital, people who had calmed down from the commotion and were discussing with astonishment the Tower of Babel and the phantom of the Demon King Satan Yel in the sky all looked up again involuntarily.

Followed by.

Everyone saw the magnificent holy sword that appeared in the night sky.

It was not a mere illusion; the golden sword revealed its physical form amidst a roaring storm, with countless rays of light converging on its dazzling blade, illuminating the surrounding dim night sky.

Under the intense yet clear light, everyone—from the most ordinary residents of the capital to the teachers and students from Starry Sky University who came to the capital to watch the spectacle, and even the foreign envoys who came to witness the wedding—was speechless with awe.

It was a holy sword forged from a planet, which illuminated a dark and chaotic world that was deeper than night, even before the dawn of civilization.

Regardless of their stance or status, as citizens of the empire... their ancestors once rallied under the radiance of that holy sword to expand their territory.

next moment.

The magnificent holy sword drew a dazzling path of light across the sky above the capital before falling directly into Hiltina's hands.

No need to draw a sword, or even speak.

At this moment, the surging emotions and feelings in Hiltina's heart resonated with the holy sword embedded in the stone through the scabbard within her body.

This ancient relic, for the first time in a thousand years, has come to recognize its master.

Hiltina raised the holy sword in her hand. Although her figure was so slender and beautiful, every move she made carried a swift and decisive air of authority.

In the dazzling light, her gorgeous white dress disappeared, replaced by a knight's uniform in red and white, which was materialized according to Hiltina's wishes.

At this moment, Hiltina was no longer the delicate and frail royal girl who had been forced by her father to silently wait for the wedding to begin...

Instead, she transformed back into the sharp and charismatic female knight she once was—proud and radiant.

Holding the holy sword, she uttered a solemn declaration amidst the clear, resonant clang of the blade:

"From this day forward, I shall be the master of the Holy Sword, the next empress."

Chapter 243 From now on, I am the guardian of the shore (End of this volume)

On the outskirts of the capital city, a huge airship swept across the sky, casting a massive shadow on the dusky clouds.

Ingrid left the pilot's seat, which was controlling the airship's rudder, and let the airship glide along its original direction, following its inertia, towards the mountains.

She herself went to the entrance of the gondola's ladder and knelt down.

Then, she carefully picked up the blood-covered boy.

The other person's body had become completely cold, his limbs and torso were pale and stiff, and blood seeped out from the wounds all over his body. Then, being deprived of its warmth in the high sky, it stained his clothes dark red.

Although Rust was not injured in the battle just now, he is now covered in wounds, looking like a tattered rag doll.

His bent fingers, which were barely gripping the suspension ladder, did not relax even after Ingrid picked up the boy and placed him on the seat of the airship. Instead, they remained stiff. It was an involuntary rigid reaction of the body after the soul circuits that controlled the body suffered severe trauma.

It is a sign of the simultaneous annihilation of both spirit and body.

This is also the price that Rast had to pay after he "fantasy-collapsed" his Nightblade, Sequence Long Rank, and his body and mind.

At this moment, his body and soul were like the ruins left after the tower collapsed, or the wasteland burned by wildfire.

Everything that was once prosperous has vanished with the collapse of that illusion.

The grassland was burned into a wasteland by wildfire, and all that remained on that desolate ruin was pale white ashes.

Even though his body was gradually cooling down, the boy's eyes remained vivid.

He sat quietly in the seat next to the driver's seat, silently gazing at the distant capital with Ingrid.

Ingrid knew that the reason Rust was still able to maintain his self-awareness was because of the lingering aftermath of the collapse of his fantasy... just like the embers of a dream still holding the warmth of a burning wasteland.

But in the end, it was just residue, lingering traces... a spark that was already on the verge of falling apart without even needing the wind to blow it away.

Before long, the last bit of heat remaining on the ashes will be stripped away by the cold wind and completely extinguished.

At that time, with only ashes remaining in his body and mind, Raste will fall into a long slumber, becoming a living dead, a vegetable, unaware of life or death... perhaps never to wake up again.

This was the last bit of time that Last had left.

"A truly magnificent battle."

Yet Ingrid still uttered such praise, knowing full well that flattery meant nothing to Last, but the compliment came from the bottom of her heart.

To kill a quasi-angel with a rank less than legendary is an unprecedented feat, even in the entire history of humankind from the age of gods to the present.

Never before had Ingrid been so grateful that on that broken, rocky beach she hadn't chosen to end it all... but instead swore allegiance to Rast, thus not missing such a magnificent view.

The boy did not answer, but continued to gaze silently into the distance.

At this moment, the huge airship had already left the outskirts of the capital and was cruising above the deserted mountains.

Below, the capital city has shrunk, becoming as miniature as a toy store model of the city.

In another distant direction, the spire of the Starry University Library church can be faintly seen amidst the golden fields.

"Please take me back to Star University. I want to see that college again."

The boy said softly, "After all, if we're unlucky, we might never have the chance to see it again."

His voice carried a pleading tone, as dejected as an ordinary young man's, yet his expression was so serene as he gazed into the distance, like an ancient Babylonian king looking down upon his capital from atop a tower.

Ingrid suddenly felt a little dazed. Last's appearance at this moment was just like the persona he presented at Star University—gentle, reserved, and approachable.

But that was clearly just a boy's disguise.

The real Rast was a monster who could calmly place himself in a coffin and sink to the bottom of the sea for months of torture... a genuine, utterly wicked demon.

He can present the most appropriate, proper, and pleasant image in the eyes of outsiders when facing different people... but that is ultimately just a disguise of Rust, a persona that he chooses to wear to best suit his current interests when facing different situations.

Beneath the boy's approachable exterior lies a hollow, empty demon, living only for its obsession.

This has always been Ingrid's perception of the master she serves.

But now she was a little uncertain. The boy beside her was clearly not wearing any disguise of personality, but the heart he revealed was somewhere in between—possessing the majesty of the demon king Satan Yar's phantom, yet also the gentleness and tenderness of a boy.

In the end, Ingrid said nothing.

She silently obeyed the orders of the person she had sworn allegiance to, turned the rudder, and the huge airship adjusted its direction in mid-air, heading towards the city shrouded in twilight.

At this moment, the light of the setting sun slowly faded, and the sun completely disappeared behind the mountains.

An endless darkness swept over the entire cloud layer and the airships that were traveling among the clouds.

"Please give my farewells to Dean Yin, Professor Barbarossa, Dean Agatha, Akshia, and Istar... I won't see them for a long time."

"This time I may sleep for a very, very long time."

Last spoke softly, but then his words trailed off silently.

In the distant direction of the capital, the dim sky suddenly brightened.

This is the mighty light of the holy sword that once illuminated a dark and chaotic world deeper than night.

Intense yet clear starlight pierced the sky, guiding their way like a lighthouse.

The dilapidated yet brightly lit city, at this moment, was as brilliant as thousands of Kongming lanterns released at midnight, reflected in the boy's eyes like a dim, starry sea.

This was Hiltina's answer, a declaration to the world, and also an answer solely for the most important boy in her heart.

The oppressive clouds beside me had somehow dissipated, leaving only a dazzling night sky filled with twinkling stars.

As if echoing the starry night sky above, a ripple of something sprouting emerged deep within Last's heart.

It was a seed protected by Gray's blessing, carrying the Fool's Library, his Sequence Ranks, his Legendary Path, and the spark of his entire destiny.

At this moment, Raste's soul was indeed a desolate wasteland, burned to ashes by the flames, devoid of anything.

But just as wildfire can never completely burn away weeds, the symbol of the Tower in the Tarot is destruction, and the "new life" that follows destruction.

People will eventually build a brand new tower on the ruins that were struck down by lightning.

And on that barren land, a new spring will eventually grow again.

Last gazed silently at the clear starlight.

After a long silence, he spoke softly:

"From now on, I will be the guardian of the shore."

………………

(End of Volume One, The Garden of Stars)

End of volume remarks

Although it was later than I had imagined, I finally finished writing the volume "The Garden of Stars".

By now, you should be able to see that the core of this book is actually the protagonist, Rust—a martyr who looks up at the stars in hell and is an idealist for "partners of justice."

I want to write about an ideal martyr who lives like a machine, whose memory and soul are already broken, and who gradually regains his humanity and transforms into a human after encountering all sorts of beautiful girls.

And I anticipated from the beginning that this book would be difficult to write.

After all, the "partner of justice" character design is too old-fashioned and traditional, lacking any originality. It is destined to be less likable than the currently popular fresh character designs—such as those born out of human form, those who are funny and playful, or the male protagonist of the previous book, Char, who is a smooth talker but more reliable than anyone else when it matters.

Moreover, the very concept of "ideal martyr" and "machine that transforms into human" is abstract and unrealistic. It's like a castle in the air, and just talking about it makes people feel that it's too grandiose and impractical.

To put it bluntly, a novel written with this idea is bound to have some riddles in the early stages, and many things will be hidden, such as the Fool's Library, the hidden storyline between Ai and Canaan, and the meaning of the tongue-twisting name "Last". These are all foreshadowings that appear and are determined at the beginning of the book, but are not truly revealed until the end of the first volume, when it is nearly one million words in.

Even though I tried my best and used various techniques to carefully hide this seemingly pretentious and empty theme at the beginning, in order to make the riddle-maker feel less blatant, this theme that runs through the whole text is ultimately too old-fashioned, which is destined to affect the reading experience in the early stages.

Therefore, I was prepared from the beginning that this book would not do very well, and it turned out as I expected. It only got 1800 initial subscriptions and was barely considered a high-quality book when it reached 30 words.

If this were my first novel, I would be overjoyed. But after the success of my old book, which reached 10,000 subscriptions in seven days and peaked at nearly 20,000 subscriptions per day, it would be a lie to say that I wasn't disappointed by this achievement.

But that's okay.

Why abandon a successful and market-tested writing style in order to try a subject that is destined to filter out most readers in the early stages because of the riddle?

I chose to slowly lay the groundwork and create plot holes, instead of releasing the core selling points, climaxes, and interesting gags all in the early stages, around 200,000 or 300,000 words, like in my previous successful books... This was my own choice, and I can't blame anyone else.

This choice stems from a deep-seated conviction in my heart. Even before I entered the writing profession, I always wanted to write about a pure white hero, a "friend of justice" who would do anything for his ideals.

I chose to write this book because I found the male protagonist to be very handsome and something I admired and longed for. I'm worried that if I keep putting it off, I'll forget this initial yearning for justice as I get older, forget that longing, and never be able to write about the excitement of my youth again.

Since I have chosen this path, I am bound to face all sorts of difficulties. I have no complaints and no regrets.

Even so, many problems still arose during the actual writing process. The biggest problem was that people often say "the morality of the protagonist in a novel is a reflection of the author's soul"—but my own moral character in reality is not as high as Raste's.

In reality, I am cowardly, selfish, egoistic, and only have a short attention span. When faced with difficulties and setbacks, I think of escaping and giving up. But "Last" is different from me. He is persevering, outstanding, and has great willpower. He has thunder in his heart but a calm face. Even three hundred years cannot erase his iron will.

So writing this book felt like a strange experience: I felt like a maggot wriggling in the dark sewer, occasionally peeking through the gaps in the drain to catch a glimpse of the clear starry sky, deeply moved by the vastness of the night sky and the brilliance of the starlight... But after the shock, I was still that maggot wriggling in the dark, and had to return from the vastness of the starry sky to the reality of the sewer, feeling lost and disappointed.

Writing for a long time can even give you the feeling of having a split personality, making it hard to distinguish between the clear and pure world of fiction and the mundane reality.

However—even though I am a maggot crawling in the shadows, the longing and excitement that arises in my heart when I look up at the starry sky is by no means false…

While I am cowardly and selfish in real life, that does not prevent me from believing that pursuing justice is the right thing to do. I still sincerely yearn for and long for such a pure white hero.

Perhaps it was precisely this kind of self-indulgent, bittersweet sentimentality that led to the creation of this book.

……

In conclusion, the most difficult parts are finally behind us.

This book will only have two volumes, and the structure of the second volume will be much simpler than that of the first volume... or rather, the plot will be closer to my old books, those things I'm good at, returning to the essence of a fast-paced, enjoyable read.

For example, Hiltina's search for her husband, Gray's search for her husband... wait, why are they all beautiful girls chasing after their husbands?

Well, there's also the reunion with Xiao Ai in reality that I've been looking forward to for a long time—Xiao Ai's real-world counterpart is too strong. If she appeared too early, I think the other female characters wouldn't have any chance to survive, and the harem wouldn't be possible.

Just like Aegis in Persona 3 and Fioren in Xenoblade Chronicles 1, they were forced to be banned in the first half of the story because they were too powerful.

I've said a bit too much without realizing it. Anyway, this concludes the first volume, "The Garden of Stars." The second volume is titled "The Guardian," and it will be the final volume of this book.

There should be an update tonight.

In addition, the book title may be changed again in the next couple of days. According to the editor, the most important thing about a book title is to attract readers, which means a long title that directly puts the selling points in the title.