I Forged the Myth of the Ancient Overlords
Chapter 98 - 98 097. Welcome to the Poetry Festival_1

Chapter 98: 097. Welcome to the Poetry Festival_1 Chapter 98: 097. Welcome to the Poetry Festival_1 The moment Lu Ban plunged into the sea, his greatest relief was that he had brought with him waterproof compressed rations.

That way, if he were to drift onto a deserted island, he wouldn’t be completely out of supplies.

In the clear sea, he saw that the massive whale wasn’t approaching him; perhaps it was simply rolling over, just as humans walking on the street pay no mind to the life or death of ants beneath their feet.

The whale disappeared abruptly, swimming as fast as the sailfish Lu Ban had seen on television.

Fortunately, it chose not to collide with the distant three-masted sailing ship, instead moving in another direction.

It was only then that Lu Ban caught a glimpse of the whale’s entirety.

It was indeed inappropriate to refer to it as a “whale.”

Its enormous, hundred-meter-long spindle-shaped body was just a part of the monster.

In the deeper sea, where even sunlight struggled to penetrate, and where the seabed once teemed with coral, lay a gigantic and indescribable monster. The whale’s head was merely one of its tentacles, and there were at least a hundred others just like it.

Lu Ban even had the illusion that The Island itself was resting on the body of that monster, with the creature’s size far exceeding that of the island.

In that dim, dark, deep-sea, an indescribable entity was peering up from below at Song Island; human creations were but a mere trifle before it.

Lu Ban floated in the water, observing how those massive tentacles seemed to be reaching upwards, trying to entangle the sailboat.

Just then, a flame blossomed in the mist.

The flame was cold, a ghostly blue, evoking an icy, deathly aura.

Like a meteor, it plunged into the water without being extinguished by the sea but instead grew more intense, illuminating the gloomy ocean.

Lu Ban watched as the flame, like a flare, sank to the seabed where countless oddly shaped fish surrounded it, descending upon the colossal body of the monster that towered like a mountain range.

The next moment, the sea began churning as if boiling.

The massive monster, like paper soaked in water, suddenly distorted and ripped apart.

Numerous shadows spread out in the water like ink, but quickly became fuel for the fire. The blaze spread far and wide in the depths of the ocean, following those ink-like shadows, and fierce waves of heat burst forth from the seabed. Even Lu Ban felt a warm current brushing across his face.

Three gashes opened on either side of his neck greedily drawing in the oxygen from the water, but Lu Ban couldn’t shake the feeling that the water tasted odd, as if it contained impurities that didn’t belong to nature.

Looking down to the seafloor, the complex ravines were still ablaze with fire that consumed the monster—or what remained of it. He then realized that the creature wasn’t so much a physical entity as an illusion created by an aggregation of microorganisms.

Upon surfacing, Lu Ban saw a small single-masted sailing boat in the distance, watching from afar as the fire unfolded.

He shouted out.

There was a brief flicker on the left side of the boat, and then, it slightly altered its course, approaching towards Lu Ban.

About ten minutes later, Lu Ban finally returned aboard the ship.

“You’re very lucky to have witnessed the Shrine Maiden Lord purging evil,” one said.

Apart from the bustling crew, there were three passengers on board.

Their clothing was distinctively Japanese in style, with a left-over-right silk kimono on the upper body, but paired with long pants and boots on the lower, resembling the Taisho period fashion to Lu Ban’s movie-informed eye.

However, they didn’t resemble typical Asians, but rather mixed-raced individuals. Among them, a young woman with deep gray short hair was particularly striking.

“Am I lucky?”

Lu Ban didn’t quite understand. He had just been rowing the boat, admiring the scenery when suddenly he was flipped over and dumped into the sea. As for the poor boatman, who knows how many pieces he was left in. Could this really be considered lucky?

“Those are impurities, the conglomerate resentments of souls lost at sea, taking the form of massive monsters, which can only be eliminated by Pure Fire,”

the man who had first spoken to Lu Ban said, still wearing an artist’s hat. Looking at Lu Ban, he took off his hat and bowed.

“I’m Tachibana Masamune, an artist of sorts. May I inquire your esteemed name and title?”

“Lu Ban. Ah, I am a, Director.”

Lu Ban told the truth.

“Do you produce plays? That’s quite impressive.”

Next to Tachibana Masamune, a young man holding a folding fan clapped his hands and also bowed. His hair was black but with a few strands dyed a trendy reddish hue.

“I am Ginpei, merely a poet.”

The one who claimed to be Ginpei leaned closer, whispering in Lu Ban’s ear.

“That lady’s name is Red Leaf; she’s not very approachable, quite cold.”

“Oh.”

Lu Ban responded, disinterested.

His target was the missing artist, and the ones now in front of him definitely were not. Moreover, it seemed they had just arrived and were not likely suspects.

“However, coming back to the point, even I have never witnessed the Shrine Maiden Lord tackling impurities outside of the Great Shrine of Harmony Island’s annual New Year festival. Seeing it now is truly astonishing, as the poem goes, ‘Incessant Pure Fire flood, Namba’s shores awash in mud, brief encounters all we have, fate leaves us but broken and halved.'”

Watching the Pure Fire illuminating the seabed, Ginpei couldn’t help but feel inspired and composed a poem on the spot.

In the language of Harmony Island, the word for Shrine Maiden sounds the same as Shrine Maiden Lord, which seems to be a title exclusive to the Great Shrine of Harmony Island’s Fasting King.

“How long will these Pure Fire flames last?”

Lu Ban asked, curious, because the fire’s form and condition reminded him of the Glaze Fire in his bag. According to the description, Glaze Fire could also only be wielded by the Chief Priestess of the Great Shrine of Harmony Island, the Fasting King. Understanding the might of Pure Fire could be quite beneficial for him later.

However, as soon as Lu Ban’s question came out, both Ginpei and Tachibana Masamune gave him strange looks. Even the Female Red Leaf, who was gazing at the sea from afar, turned her head to glance at Lu Ban, the foreigner.

“Pure Fire never extinguishes. Brother Lu Ban, these flames, after consuming impurities, will continue to burn eternally, using the seabed as their fuel. It was so in the past, it is so now, and it shall be so in the future,”

Tachibana Masamune explained.

“If it burns like this, one day the entire sea will be engulfed in flames, won’t it?”

Lu Ban remarked offhand.

“Exactly,”

Ginpei nodded slightly in agreement.

“?”

Lu Ban looked puzzled. Why did these people seem not the least bit worried about this easily conceivable scenario of doomsday?

“From life to death, we are but puppets in a booth, once the thread snaps, the truth will out. As one who studies art, what is the significance of life and death? Death is not an end, but another form of life. Master Lu Ban, now that you’re on Song Island, you should indulge in pleasure and not waste time clinging to mundane matters.”

Ginpei snapped open a fan painted with the beauties of flowers, birds, and the changing seasons, seeming utterly unconcerned for his safety, and pointed ahead.

Through the thinning fog, an island loomed in the distance, surely the celebratory site of the Poetry Festival on Song Island.

But Lu Ban caught a glimpse of a vast figure, lurking in the island’s mist, walking high above the sky.