"Then you'd better find some serious paper and pen to write. The quality of these papyrus sheets is not very good. I see that in Rome, they use sheepskin paper or carve it on stone tablets or clay tablets."

    Aaron said while pushing the corpse away, which a little broke the scene.

    Luo Jia put away those papers and pens, looking around.

    "Right, don't you ask me who this person is?"

    Aaron waved his hand and said casually, "It was you who killed him. As long as he is a bad person, that's it. I saw at first glance that he was not a good person."

    Luo Jia sighed, "He is Cole Falen, my adoptive father."

    Aaron sat back next to Luo Jia and shook his head, "So, you're going to tell a story then?"

    Luo Jia explained:

    "When I was discovered, Cole Falen was a priest, but actually, he worshipped the dark gods. He just lost in the power struggle."

    "He learned of my existence and destroyed that entire village, adopting me as his foster son."

    Aaron said angrily, "See, it's really a bad thing. I should have stomped on his face just now. Did he induce you to seek the only true god?"

    Luo Jia replied, "Yes, he saw me as a miracle but wanted to tightly control me. He tried to build a world that would limit how I could behave. Until I grew up and dreamt of my father's arrival."

    "At that time, I thought that was the only true god. Cole Falen needed my help to get his revenge. He was on the losing side in the internal struggle of his sect."

    "He even began to encourage me to worship blindly the scenes in my dreams. Because he knew that once faith was intoxicated, the greater the damage when it was destroyed."

    "If I reached my father's side and found out that my father was not the level of deity I believed in, or even worse, a conflict erupted."

    Aaron sighed woefully, "That old guy will definitely scold you severely and even send people to smash your things. He's always wanted me to break the nail you gave me."

    Luo Jia comforted his brother:

    "Thankfully you're here, brother. I realized what true faith is about, so I brought Cole Falen here, confronted him about the information on the dark gods, and then strangled him."

    Aaron curiously asked, "Then what did you get from him?"

    Luo Jia pointed to the sky and laughed, "As I predicted before, those dark gods, or chaos gods, are not all-knowing and omnipotent. They are not transcendent, even the concept of chaos itself is just an excuse for indulging their desires and behaviors."

    "People, they hope for something above them to provide answers and support for their actions. Without it, they feel like they can't live, which is utterly foolish."

    "What I want to do is because I want to do it, not because something corrupts me. Alright, saying these things might make you feel boring."

    Luo Jia got up and knelt half on the ground, and there was a huge gap in their body types.

    "Thank you for the gift."

    Aaron yawned and rubbed Luo Jia's face, which looked very healthy and did not have any wrinkles like Kyrin did.

    "Okay, I have to go back. Is there anything I need to bring for you?"

    Luo Jia thought for a moment:

    "Perhaps some achievements can be told to my father first. The gods who each have their own job and the all-knowing god are actually of no difference. What's important is not the gods, but the thoughts of people."

    He pointed to his own head, "Inside this, is everything."

    Aaron covered his head and sighed.

    "Indeed, I don't understand a thing about what you people study. When Mother was a priestess, she never paid attention to these things; she was more concerned with whether the offerings were tasty."

    With the last yawn, Aaron disappeared.

    Luo Jia patiently held these papyrus sheets, covering his forehead with one hand.

    "Trouble, I forgot to tell my brother that these papers and pens are too small for me."

    "He doesn't seem to have realized this, and it seems that even Father didn't. He really isn't all-knowing."

    However, with his physical condition, directly carving words on stones or mud tablets was also a possibility.

    600 BC, Yonu.

    Having been a Christmas elf again, Aaron lay in his own bed, facing his last question.

    Chaghatai.

    The motorcycle is still not made yet, and Father is always unreliable, so it's hard to say what he will come up with in the end.

    He had to force himself into the dream, and this time, because of his lack of willpower, his body was hazy, just like the earliest few times he saw Kyrin. What he saw and heard was somewhat blurry.

    He landed on an endless prairie, looking at Chaghatai in the distance who was playing a musical instrument.

    It seemed to be a string instrument with a design of a flying horse's head on top.

    The mane flew in a grand gesture that had the feeling of galloping through the boundless prairie.

    Beside him was the white-marked sheep grazing.

    It's still OK, it seems that the little brother hasn't been left with any psychological damage, and the life of the surrounding grassland tribes seems quite ordinary with no danger.

    Aaron then felt at ease and left.

    Aaron didn't notice it, on the other side, Chaghatai directly extended the reins of the white-scarred sheep to tie it around his waist.

    Chaghatai will never lose his White Scar!

    After visiting all three younger brothers, Aaron finally fell into a deep sleep.

    He was a bit confused. Dreams are actually sleeping, right? After every dream, I would fall into deeper sleep.

    However, after this deep sleep, the exhaustion caused by traveling through time in dreams would disappear completely.

    Could it be a form of self-compensation by the body?

    But Father sleeps like a dead pig every day and doesn't seem to be very energetic.

    The old guy only seems energetic when it's mealtime.

    At this moment, the old father Andar, who was being complained about by his son, was entering the workshop under the Yonu temple together with Malum, wearing only a half-cloth around his waist.

    Andar showed the thick calluses on his hands, while Malum was hitting the wooden post with his fist until it was embedded in the hole.

    Both were granted permission to become the craftsman of the Pharaoh and participate in the casting process of this detestable creation.

    Andar created an area of neglect, where he could loaf around with Malum in the ventilated area.

    He's not really here to work, but just to get something for himself.

    This position is high up, which allows them to see the central furnace area, right above the flame core that appears alive.

    "This chariot is good, but I don't like the bronze green or the deep metal black. For years, these demons' aesthetics haven't changed much."

    Andar commented on Vasthor's taste.

    Malum respectfully said, "Master, the color of the Mechanum faith seems more oppressive."

    Andar rubbed his nose, "That's not it, the red robes are very vivid. It's just that they have to add some rust or oil on their own, showing off their skill. That has nothing to do with me. At least the Mechanum faith won't cut people down to pieces and tie them up in front of the vehicle. Look, they're about to do that."

    Both of their gazes fell on a unfortunate slave, who was being dragged by the chains to the top of the finished chariot.

    Malum thought to himself, in the future, the dark Mechanum faith might do that.

    However, the Empire also has a practice of embedding skeletons in shields.

    Okay, he shook his head, these sacrilegious behaviors better not be told to the emperor now.