Chapter 987: Section 642: The Fish and the Fisherman (Part 1)
When the legion set out southwards, Malin didn’t go to the scene to bid farewell. It wasn’t out of sorrow, nor to show respect to the Crown Prince, but because Malin felt he couldn’t face these young people marching toward the battlefield to meet death. Malin had broken his promise. Even though he had numerous explanations to justify it, a broken promise was still a broken promise, and Malin had never wanted to argue about it.
Besides, Malin had plans in his heart—if the battle went well, then everything would be fine. If not... Malin must make up his mind to end his journey. He would have to return to the Northern Kingdom and act before Chaos devoured this country to save everything.
The fires of civilization remained only in Europe and Asia, and Malin couldn’t allow Europe’s flame to extinguish, because this would mean Chaos would free up even more forces to invade Asia. Or perhaps... if there were another Tide of the Dead, the Eastern Human World would have to face the apocalyptic Chaos Army alone.
Malin was saving others, as well as himself. No one could remain unscathed in such a chaotic world.
As for the Eastern Human World, Malin had previously given Meng Quyi some blueprints. That’s why Mr. Meng always spoke to Malin with both warmth and respect. He understood what Malin was thinking—that this Malin Gaiate, this Half-blood, wanted the Eastern Human World to last longer in the upcoming Chaos invasion, so that the Western Human World would face less pressure.
Who would have thought that a legendary figure from the Western Human World would wholeheartedly assist the Eastern Human World?
Of course, Malin wouldn’t reveal this little secret buried in his heart. No one else could empathize with him anymore. He lived in a past eight millennia gone, an era wiped away into obscurity—unknown facets buried in history, like a sentence Malin had once read in a novel: The word "era" is made up of everyone alive in it, with each person’s memories, joys, sorrows, love, and hate forming a part of it. And every era, when its people pass away, ultimately fades, becoming a mere part of the word "history."
Yet Malin was still alive, and so his era remained alive too. Though it was an era full of conflict, regret, and pain—not perfect—but in Malin’s eyes, it held his dearest and most treasured memories.
That country, that homeland, was Malin’s true home. But... the Eastern Human World as it is now, well, it had probably already become unrecognizable.
Ever since Malin had grasped that the world he was in was truly the future, he had thought about this countless times. Europe had already become like this—what of Asia?