When Ovid regained consciousness, the sun had long been out. He tried to lift off his blanket, yet found that his fingers were trembling, and did not possess a drop of strength. His whole body was in pain, his lungs even struggled to perform the breathing routine that he relied on to counter his stress.

Li Zhan was indeed correct that his body’s condition was really severe, Ovid had lost more than half of the blood in his body, either from evaporation or simply from the wounds. His legs were a rather sorry sight, although they were covered in bandages, Ovid could tell that those wounds that cut into his bones could not be healed so easily, even with Cai Hua’s medical pellets.

It was impossible to understand how Ovid managed to remain conscious for so long, or how he had walked halfway through the giant pillars in Gael’s tomb and chatted with Li Zhan before fainting. Perhaps it was as his body was tempered to an outrageous state, or perhaps it was simply as sheer stubbornness.

Fortunately, it seems that his face was unscathed, say for a few wounds from Irene and Ulrika’s exchange. Both his eyes and ears functioned as it had before entering the tomb.

After staring at the ceiling for an unknown amount of time, Anna had entered the room. Noticing that Ovid had woken up, she suddenly left the room with sudden footsteps.

Before long, Anna came back with a bowl of lemon soup. Considering the short time it had taken her to return, it was evident that the soup had been reheated repeatedly.

Placing the soul of lemon soup before Ovid, Anna stared at him for a long time before a smile surfaced on her face. She said, “It’s good that you’re finally awake. Li Zhan had told me you would wake up after a week, but you have recovered in only five days. It is good that I prepared the soup earlier.”

Ovid slightly nodded his head and said in contemplation, “I don’t feel thirsty or hungry after remaining asleep for so long. This tempered body is quite impressive.”

Anna dried her hands with the apron and said, “That is something worth studying.”

Ovid shifted his gaze out the window, seeing the grey sun, he asked, “This doesn’t seem like Aeon forest. Have we returned to Straton?”

Anna answered, “Yes, and no. Li Zhan and Irene have transported us back to Straton, though we are currently in my minor realm.”

A little over a week ago, Cai Hua had bestowed Anna a minor realm in order to accumulate the mana of the elves Ovid had freed. The realm was quite small, not even able to compare to the field Ovid and Cai Hua had sparred on, still, it was completely self-sufficient, and possessing it would make even bishops jealous.

Minor realms were usually unstable concepts that’s separate from this universe and are instead located within one’s soul. Usually, those without any levels would have long died from the stress of harbouring a world. However, Cai Hua had talents rivalling the generation one hundred thousand years back - although his power was limited by that illness, he was still a saint, and more than capable of creating a stable minor realm.

The elves were meditating outside the residency Ovid and Anna was in, though Ovid could not tell since he could not walk next to the window, or use his spiritual perception.

Ovid said with a voice as weak as a newborn calf, “I’m unable to move my hand.”

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Anna laughed and began to feed the paralysed Ovid. Since she had never done this before, her motions were somewhat stiff, although it was countered by her enthusiasm. After wiping Ovid’s mouth with a handkerchief, she said, “I progressed a little in the manual Cai Hua gave me.”

She then sighed, before continuing, “I thought that with that knowledge, I could heal you at least a bit. Who knew that even the immortal Li Zhan cannot.”

Ovid said, “Of course, the person I was against was a being on par with Alexander and Julia. Even if he had one per cent of his strength, no one but a saint can go against him.”

Anna looked at him silently and then said, “But I am Julia’s sister. Even if we are not related by blood, at least some of her talent should have rubbed off me… am I useless?”

It appears that after that discussion in the temple, Anna had been more vocal with her emotions. Ovid was in a daze in wondering how to reply to Anna and eventually said, “She lived a much longer time than the two of us. This comparison has too many variables outside of talent.”

“Also, you are feeding me right now, and that’s definitely helpful.”

Anna hummed in agreement and proceeded to take the bowl back into the kitchen. She said after the sound of water has disappeared, “Do you want to take a walk?”

Ovid recalled the countless steps he had taken in that weird basin and shook his head. He said, “Just pass a few books to read, and I will be fine.”

“But you’re illiterate.”

“...”

---

Ovid had to spend two more days in Anna’s minor realm before he could move his finger. On the third day, he began to write down the story Glafx had told him. From his conversation from Glafx, Ovid was aware that he had learnt many secrets previously lost to history, but he was too aware that the old sage was also a liar, and had fabricated a few matters.

For example, the saint Gael was actually a rather wise individual, it was only to gain sympathy or perhaps rage that the king had been smeared to such a degree by his teacher.

Gripping the quill with firm yet soft hands, the smell of ink permeated throughout the small room. Were it not for Anna opening the window when she was delivering breakfast, it was a very real possibility that Ovid, who had survived the might of two saints, would die from a writing instrument.

After writing down how Gael had imprisoned Glafx within the lonely tomb with the last of his power, Ovid loosened his strict posture and stared outside the window. Now that he had some form of elevation, it was naturally possible for Ovid now to see the small field was fully occupied with the elves he had purchased their freedom for. Most of the elves were in meditation, though some were gossiping tales stretching back thousands of years.

Seeing their carefree manner, Ovid recalled that one hundred thousand years ago, the vast majority of the elven race had been slaughtered. Perhaps feeling somewhat melancholy over the fact, Ovid moved onto a wheelchair Li Zhan had provided him with and moved toward the garden.

The wheelchair had a big black umbrella that covered Ovid, so the man who had no seen natural light for over a week did not find it too difficult to adapt his vision to the outside. The handles were made of an unknown material covered by a thick sheet of leather and the mainframe itself composed of plain wood.

The wheelchair’s wooden wheels stopped before Aegis, who was distracted by one of the stacks of card Li Zhan had given her.

“Thank you.”

The girl froze for a moment and then began to giggle. Her laugh was quite bold, so the elves not in meditation could hear it. They wondered what amusing story must have been told, before realising the girl was an imbecile and could laugh at anything.

The girl was quite happy, as she had seldomly, or perhaps never had anyone thank her. Looking at the person under the big umbrella, she said proudly, “I’m happy to help you, this is what I should do as the ambassador of the goddess.”

Her giggles subsided, and she said, “Ah, right, I never got to show you my bow skill… the people you were fighting against were too strong.”

It seemed that she had completely forgotten her frightful state in the forest.

---

When another week had passed, and Ovid did not leave the residency after a brief chat with Aegis… it was simply too mentally exhausting to talk with someone with boundless energy.

During that one week, he had finished putting the words Glafx spoke onto paper and had passed a copy to Li Zhan, who he later found out, was actually born only a few hundred years after the death of Alexander. Although a couple of hundred years seems to be a huge amount, compared to Irene, who had only lived for ten thousand, there was a greater deal of authenticity in Li Zhan.

Ovid’s legs had recovered to a state in which he can walk, though under Li Zhan had informed him that it would be better to refrain from such, as he had yet to heal. So Ovid could only carry himself with a wheelchair everywhere.

After folding meticulously folding the blanket so that all the edges align, and performing all the other tasks in his daily routine, he left Anna’s minor realm.

At the southern portions of Straton’s city walls, a person sitting atop a wheelchair reappeared next to a pair of horses and a carriage.