The Ordinary Me is Worshipped as a Deity by the Extraordinary Them-Chapter 126.2 - Charles’s Travel Journal (part 2)

This question stopped Egbert’s desire to fight with Euphia and stirred up Mavis’s uncontrollable melancholy.

The former was fine, just caught in a brainstorm. The latter, however, felt that the possibility Euphia mentioned was actually the truth.

Assuming this incident wasn’t just coincidentally similar to what Mavis had experienced, Mavis didn’t think she could have reacted so quickly. She might be clever, but the heir of the Mercenary Alliance wasn’t a fool either.

Euphia reacted a bit slowly, only because she had slightly less experience with human nature. But with just a hint, even without a detailed explanation, Euphia understood before long.

Lan Zhe said to the two people caught in their dilemma, “I thought you had already accepted that Su Li has endured too much for our sake.”

This concept had deeply taken root.

Later, when Su Li finally discovered that in everyone’s eyes he had a “beautiful, strong, and tragic” setting, he wanted nothing more than to run straight to Castor’s research room and grab an alchemy version of a CT scanner to examine the brains of these people with abnormal neural circuits.

As for now...

The person with zero elemental affinity was called to Dean Asa’s private office during break time.

This might be a prelude to a deep conversation, Su Li thought.

Then he followed Dean Asa’s footsteps into the office.

It was a small office, but the desk and shelves behind it were filled with books, enough to prove that the old man had never had it easy.

Asa Academy had many affairs to handle. As an elemental cultivation academy with branches in many places, Dean Asa himself was buried in various matters every day.

For instance now, the conversation began with, “What did you see in that travel journal?”

Su Li pulled out a chair and sat down. His expression calm, he took out the travel journal he carried with him and first expressed his gratitude. “I haven’t had the chance to thank you yet for lending me something so important.”

Dean Asa laughed in his usual strange way. “Hohoho, this thing might only seem important in your eyes.”

“I’d rather not think so,” Su Li sighed lightly. He stepped forward and opened the journal to a certain page on the desk.

The handwriting on this page was noticeably more forceful compared to other pages, almost...

Shocking.

[My eyes, nose, ears, heart, brain... everything about me, what I observe, what I associate, what I deeply contemplate, these do not belong only to myself.]

Charles’ Travel Journal, a book placed in a remote corner of the Asa Academy library, covered in dust.

It was dirty, the kind of dirty that would repel people at first glance.

Yet the existence of this book was quite unusual, because all the bookshelves in the library had various elemental formations to isolate moisture and dust from the air.

After all, elemental cultivation methods were still professional knowledge that required money to acquire.

Theoretically, any book placed in this library should have special value.

Yet strangely, Charles’ Travel Journal was an exception.

Many students could see this book. When Su Li was the librarian, he actively asked why no one borrowed it.

Some students said: “I’m not interested in stories that can’t enhance my power.”

Others said: “People who’ve read this book told me it has no value. Those who finished it specifically mentioned that it’s a book that corrodes one’s spirit.”

Su Li naturally wanted to read it and understand what was special about this book, but as the librarian at that time, he didn’t have that privilege.

Later, when he became a student, he hadn’t even settled in for a few days before being forced to flee to the Inner City.

This book became the only thing Su Li thought about from his days as a librarian.

When it came time for the advancement exams, Su Li borrowed this book as well.

However, he never expected that while all the elemental-related materials merely passed through his mind quickly, Charles’ Travel Journal would become something he held in his hands for a very long time.

This book told the story of a person named Charles’ life.

It chronicled how, born as a fallen nobleman, he eventually wandered through the world, experienced various events, and finally died young in Jisuo Town.

Rather than a travel journal, it was more like a personal biography.

But since it was called a travel journal, it proved that the main focus was still on Charles’ stories during his travels.

The page that resonated most with Su Li was the one he had just opened.

It was also about Charles in his youth, as a member of a group of five, full of unrealistic fantasies, and planning to realize them, when everything ended with his death, like a shattered mirror.

It was also this book that made Su Li discover that even in this strange world, human brilliance still existed.

“The Mr. A in this book refers to you, Dean, doesn’t it?”

Sitting on the other side of the desk, Dean Asa only smiled without speaking.

Su Li understood that the old man had prepared this occasion specially for him.

Prepared for him, an opportunity to persuade him.

“Charles was undoubtedly an idealist.”

“He hoped for a world where the elderly would be cared for, the young would be nurtured, without nobility, and without poverty.”

“To make the world like a great harmonious society.”

“He specifically described in this book how to make the world become what he imagined.”

Charles’ era was a time when the Mercenary Association did not exist.

It was a time when the Church of Light endlessly attacked the Dark Church, and when the Amikbi royal family and their nobles existed under divine authority but above the common people.

How could a fallen nobleman realize his ideals?

Sufficient strength was a must.

Like-minded companions were also necessary.

Because one person cannot change the world.

With strength and companions, the next most needed thing was power.

Without sufficient power, there would be no significant voice.

Without a voice, how could one make others act according to one’s wishes?

Charles wanted to return to nobility, despite wanting equality for all.

The nobles and commoners of that period were like clouds in the sky and mud in a lotus pond.

In the eyes of the former, the latter existed merely to sustain them.

The king of that time, the father of the current king... that man could naturally declare before commoners: “You live on my territory, eat, drink, and use my things, so you naturally belong to me, and I can do anything I want to you.”

These weren’t the exact words, but the original words were even more cruel.

Any non-noble commoner could become a slave, any poor commoner could be killed at will.

Human rights?

Only nobles had such a concept.

At that time, every child born to non-nobles received not blessings from their elders but hatred.

Hatred for why their child wasn’t born a noble, and hatred for why they themselves weren’t nobles.

Charles was also influenced by this concept. Although he wanted to change everything, he knew that only nobles with power could make changes.

He tried to enter this circle.

For a young man with aspirations, infiltrating a circle he fundamentally disagreed with was inevitably a torment with no end in sight.

But for someone with deep conviction, this was not insurmountable.

Charles was the same.

He knew everything he did was to make the future better.

But before achieving this goal, he needed to make himself appear assimilated, becoming a typical noble.

What was a typical noble?

Having many slaves, whipping them mercilessly, making them fight like beasts in arenas.

Then, laughing heartily as if amused by the scene.

This was torture more cruel than slow poison.

But Charles still needed to struggle in this hell.

Until he finally gained a voice.

According to the journal, when the five members reunited, Mr. A asked: “Is Charles still the same Charles as before?”

Charles answered: “How dare I forget my original intention.”

He began to act, first changing things at the legal level.

Then changing things at the level of public perception.

Next, creating a series of new entertainments to divert nobles’ attention, and trying to find other things that could satisfy them.

This would divert their attention away from slaves and commoners.

Although Charles hated those nobles so much he wished they would die without a trace.

But he still had to do this.

Even as a fallen nobleman, he might declare he had never betrayed this world, yet he could never forgive himself for failing to protect his family.

Just like Roy.

But unlike Roy’s wife and children being killed by a Crystal Winged Dragon, Charles’ wife and child died at the hands of the king of that time.

The reason?

The high and mighty king told his henchmen: “I allow you to be my dog, but I do not allow my dog to harbor disloyal thoughts.”

How many more would die afterward?

How many would be silenced before dawn before the goal was achieved?

No one knew.

But Charles kept going.

“Something I’ve persevered with for so many years, I can’t just forget it.”

Humans excel at self-consolation; even with a lacerated heart, they can still smile.

Charles submerged himself deeper.

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He seemed to completely submit to noble behavior.

Beating, scolding, trading, toying with slaves, killing commoners on the street when in a bad mood.

Every person who died by his hand was remembered in Charles’ heart.

Until he thought he had accumulated enough power.

That rebellion, no, that change, began one deep night.

The gates of the Inner City were opened, countless commoners who hated the nobles entered, and countless slaves in noble houses began to rebel against their fate.

As the most conspicuous henchman of the king, Charles happened to be in Jisuo Town defending against a monster beast tide.

“This makes sense.”

Charles smiled.

Mr. A said: “But you will die too.”

“Well, with so many people falling before dawn, there’s no reason why someone like me should have the right to stand in the sunlight,” Charles had long prepared for death.

Just like the countless subordinates who had pretended to be commoners, pretended to be slaves, were abused by him, were killed by him on the streets.

Charles should have died long ago.

But he was unwilling, unwilling that no one in this world would light the torch.

The nobility had to pay a painful price to understand that commoners were also human.

The king needed to understand that foolish rulers who couldn’t bring a future to commoners would eventually have their game board overturned by those who served them.

Even if Charles would die.

[My eyes, nose, ears, heart, brain... everything about me, what I observe, what I associate, what I deeply contemplate, these do not belong only to myself.

Because seeking light not represented by gods is the only path I can open by sacrificing everything. It belongs to everyone in this world; every person has the right to step on this path.]

“If things developed reasonably, I guess even though this world is completely different from my homeland, I could still live peacefully in retirement with cats,” Su Li said.

Unfortunately, stories don’t always develop toward happy endings.

Charles didn’t die before dawn.

He fell in an endless night.

He didn’t die defending against the monster beast tide, but at the hands of the son of a subordinate who had once been willing to die for him.

A sword through the heart.

Charles’ Travel Journal also ended with four members of the five sitting in front of a grave, clinking glasses to the tombstone, but in the end, no one drank the wine, instead unanimously pouring it onto the grave.

The story didn’t end with a grand tragedy, but with a silent extinction.

“You should understand better than I why I lent you this book,” Dean Asa could have refused to lend this book to Su Li, but he did anyway.

The reason for agreeing was that compared to Charles who stood on the edge of a blade, Su Li had always stood in the midst of the storm.

At least Charles had elemental power.

What about Su Li?

His life and death existed solely at the discretion of those around him.

Anyone, any single person who wanted him to die, and Su Li might silently never see the sun of tomorrow again.

Especially unlike the five-member group of the past, Su Li now had too many people gathered around him.

“Understanding the reason doesn’t mean I’ll act according to one of your ideas.”

Dean Asa’s thought was simple: Su Li didn’t need to sacrifice anything for this world.

Because this world had never given him anything.

Making humanity better wasn’t his responsibility.

Su Li even felt that Dean Asa might have blamed Charles’ death more than once on never telling his friend...

“This is not your responsibility,” Su Li heard Dean Asa saying.

But Su Li smiled, a calm and peaceful smile.

“Of course it’s not my responsibility. I never consider what I want to do as a responsibility. Wanting to do something stems from personal desire, and satisfying my own desire is my reason for wanting to act.”

“This is a very personal and selfish logic.”

“As for danger...”

Su Li spread his palm.

Unlike the gorillas with astonishing physical prowess, his hands were genuinely soft. Turning his hand, the scratch wound on the back of his hand from confronting Julius earlier still showed a mark darker than his skin tone.

“I’ve always lived in a world where I could die at any moment anyway.”

The young man’s tone was not the cruel desolation of the story’s end, but the serenity and peace of reality, of clearly understanding everything.

Not flamboyant, not arrogant.

Su Li would never fear death that hadn’t truly arrived before him.

Being forced by reality to take certain actions was something every adult experienced. But being forced by reality didn’t necessarily mean being changed by reality was something to fear.

As long as the original intention remained unchanged, who could say that Charles, who drank four cups of wine, wasn’t the same fallen nobleman as before?

“From the moment I accepted, from the moment I made my decision, I am not Charles.”

Su Li was just Su Li.

An ordinary great wizard who had lived for thirty years.

Neither noble nor great.