Chapter 55: Who Even Keeps a Diary if They’re Normal?
【Current Historical Remnant: 「Disaster Remnant」, only accessible to Travelers of Tier 3 and below】
【Quest Objective: Find a way to leave Frostwater Town, or be buried here forever】
【Detected that your Rank is at a critical level, and this Remnant is compatible with your Sequence. Advancement Quest unlocked】
【Advancement Quest “Tower”: Uncover the truth behind Frostwater Town, shrouded in fog】
【Note: This Remnant has no time limit for quest completion, and Travelers cannot exit the Nightworld by letting time expire】
【Note: Night Travelers will receive a plausible identity within the Historical Remnant and will be fluent in the world’s common language】
Were these... the system prompts granted to Travelers by the Nightworld?
Rast’s mind carefully examined the azure words one by one.
Based on the Nightworld materials he had studied at Starfall University over the past few days, the Remnants of the Nightworld spanned nearly all of the lost history before the 「Pale Interruption」.
Some of these lost fragments were interconnected and sequential, while others stood entirely alone, as if from different eras of civilization.
By compiling, categorizing, and analyzing the fragmented data brought back by various Travelers from the Remnants…
The goal was ultimately to reconstruct a complete timeline of history before the 「Pale Interruption」, dividing it into distinct epochs by the rise and fall of civilizations, and creating a reliable chronicle.
This had always been the mission of the Ruins Institute.
Whether it was fortunate or unfortunate—
According to background intel from the Nightworld, the Disaster Remnant they had now entered belonged to the same era as Deep Blue Port, where Rast had once been trapped for three hundred years.
The two only differed by a century.
Yet in just one hundred years, the difference was like heaven and earth.
Deep Blue Port had still been at the tail end of the steam age, but everything had been thriving, and the seedlings of new technology were already sprouting.
Given time, it could have smoothly entered the electrical age, even the information age.
However, the outbreak of the Iron Cross Plague had become the turning point from prosperity to decline.
By now, the flame of civilization flickered unsteadily, able only to survive by clinging to trade routes, barely enduring under the constant threat of foreign forces.
“According to the Ruins Institute, this belongs to the history of the Sixth Epoch,” Rast murmured to himself.
Before the Pale Interruption, the last known civilization era, and the one closest in time to the present.
Yet it was also the least understood epoch, with the most incomplete chronicle among both the Institute and the Travelers.
As he pondered, Rast’s gaze suddenly paused.
And then, it fixed upon an inconspicuous term.
…
“So this is a Disaster Remnant from which one cannot return automatically when time is up. No wonder the earlier scouting team was wiped out here.”
“Also, it actually belongs to the same Sixth Epoch as Deep Blue Port.”
“The Ruins Institute once speculated that the order in which Nightworlds appear in the real world might follow the chronological sequence of their corresponding epochs.”
“If that’s true, then perhaps the theory of seventy-two Nightworlds proposed by the Institute isn’t far off. Most of the Nightworlds from the first five epochs have already been explored. What remains are those from the Sixth Epoch, which have appeared the least and are the least understood.”
Shiltina’s voice rang out.
Clearly, she had also seen the epoch-related information provided by the Nightworld.
But then, her voice faltered slightly.
“Shoreguard?”
Shiltina looked at Rast. “If I recall correctly, the internal code name you entered in the Obelisk file... was ‘Shoreguard’, wasn’t it?”
“Well, what an honor.” Rast smiled. “Didn’t expect Miss Shiltina to care about my enrollment progress despite her busy schedule.”
“But it must’ve been just a coincidence,” he said. “It was merely a name I happened to hear at Deep Blue Port. I just jotted it down when filling in the Obelisk record.”
“Is that so?”
Shiltina’s gaze lingered briefly on Rast’s calm face before she sighed in resignation.
Emis had already proven with blood that trying to probe Rast’s true inner thoughts… was a fool’s errand.
“Still, your explanation does make sense.”
Shiltina seemed thoughtful. “Since this ‘Shoreguard’ group is so mysterious, even bearing the mission of guarding trade routes and preserving the fire of civilization…”
“Then perhaps they have existed in the shadows for hundreds of years, never noticed by the world. If you merely caught a glimpse of them at Deep Blue Port, it would be easy to explain.”
“But there’s no point discussing this now.”
“If we make it through alive, we can leave it to the Ruins Institute to research.”
Her eyes moved slightly as she scanned the narrow space inside the lighthouse.
There wasn’t much here—besides a kerosene lamp, two messy beds, some plain furniture, and heaps of canned food and broken wine bottles…
The only things left were two silver emblems on the wooden table and an old, tattered diary.
The silver emblems were engraved with rough waves.
Not far from the waves, a pair of simple silver wings enclosed the coastline within.
“Those Who Guard the Shore”
Looking at the two silver winged emblems, Rast instantly understood their meaning.
He pinned one Shoreguard wing emblem to his chest, then handed the other to Shiltina.
On the other side, Shiltina had already opened the tattered diary.
The faint light of the kerosene lamp illuminated the yellowing pages and the black ink writing upon them.
【Year 93 of the Cataclysm Calendar, December 15】
【As a member of the Shoreguard, today is my first day at Frostwater Town, guarding the fractured coast.】
【Of course, while I say I arrived at Frostwater Town, I must constantly remain stationed at the lighthouse outside the town, monitoring the sea for anomalies and maintaining the operation of the navigational lights.】
【My daily life is all spent in the lighthouse. As for food and supplies, I rely on biannual deliveries from HQ. So I don’t really interact with the townsfolk.】
【I heard that ten years ago, lighthouse guards along the fractured coast used to be stationed in pairs… but then they were reduced to one per post. Apparently, another surviving human nation fell, and the organization was severely understaffed.】
【Sometimes I imagine—if I had come here twenty years earlier, maybe I could’ve had a pretty companion while guarding the tower. Though realistically, even if I had a partner, it would most likely be some hairy-legged brute.】
【As a proper person, I’ve never been one to keep a diary. It’s just that HQ mandates us to log reports regularly.】
【Seems like a pain in the ass. Whatever. I’ll just backfill the entries when it’s time to submit the logs. (crossed out)】