Hu Tao Is Monetizing My Existence. [121]

As the sky darkened and the last of the frost melted from Cartis’s body, Jiang Bai heard a voice.

“You finally came.”

Jiang Bai had been reaching for the diary resting on Cartis’s chest. The sudden voice startled him so much that the journal nearly slipped from his hand.

It hadn’t spoken just to him—Albedo heard it too.

Yet aside from the two of them, there was clearly no one else around. The unexpected voice put both of them on immediate alert.

“Who’s there?!”

“Don’t be afraid. It’s me.” A translucent figure drifted up from the diary in Jiang Bai’s hand.

It was Cartis.

Due to the strength of his lingering will—and the unique environmental conditions here—his soul had unexpectedly remained in the world.

He had bound himself to the diary he cherished most, preserving his memories and consciousness within it.

Jiang Bai had seen ghosts before, so the sight of Cartis’s spirit didn’t shock him too much. He accepted it rather easily.

Albedo, on the other hand, had his researcher instincts kick in immediately—he began analyzing the soul’s composition, trying to understand how it could persist after the body’s death.

“You came even earlier than I thought,” Cartis said, his tone relaxed. Though the scar across his face made him look intimidating, he was actually quite easygoing.

“Well, if I hadn’t run into Albedo, I’d probably still be stumbling around the mountain looking for a way up…” Jiang Bai sighed.

He’d come to realize that the Directional Soul Compass was useless for pathfinding. It could tell him the direction of Cartis’s body, but it couldn’t show him the way there.

Which meant—if Cartis had died in the sky, the compass would just point straight upward, leaving Jiang Bai to figure out how to reach the heavens himself.

He might have a knack for finding exits in domains or dangerous ruins, but more often than not, he needed a way in, not out.

After all, how can I find an exit if I can’t even get inside?

But there was no helping it—his expectations were clearly unrealistic. Better to be practical. Next time he got a mission like this, he should bring a proper map with all the paths clearly marked.

“Heh. It took me years to map out the paths on this mountain,” Cartis chuckled. Since he hadn’t been dead long, his memories were still relatively intact.

“There’s a hand-drawn map in my backpack. It’s a bit rough, but if you don’t mind, take it. That way, you won’t get lost if you come again.”

“That’s exactly what I needed!” Jiang Bai was genuinely grateful.

Finding the body was one thing—but that didn’t mean he now magically understood the layout of Dragonspine. With a map drawn by an actual mountain explorer, he wouldn’t have to stumble around next time.

As Jiang Bai eagerly flipped through the map, Albedo, who had been silently observing for a while, finally spoke.

“Mr. Cartis, in your current state… you won’t be able to remain like this for long, will you?”

Cartis nodded. “That’s right. I’m still here only because of my lingering regrets, and because of the ley lines in this area. In a little while… I’ll probably return to the embrace of the Anemo Archon.”

“Regrets? You mean you had unfulfilled wishes?” Jiang Bai asked, curious.

After all, Cartis had reached the summit—shouldn’t that mean his goal had been realized?

Cartis turned his gaze toward the towering “nail” nearby, his expression complicated. “Yes. I reached the summit, but when I saw that enormous stone spike, even more questions arose. Those questions became the very obsession that keeps me here.”

“I was searching for the past of this mountain—its history—but the deeper I explored, the more mysteries I uncovered. Then I saw that, and I realized… this entire place is nothing more than a punishment cast down from the sky.”

“But why? Why would the heavens bring punishment down here? The people who once lived here faithfully followed the sky’s guidance…”

His gaze was full of confusion. He couldn’t understand why the sky would abandon its people, why it had first allowed their civilization to flourish—only to later destroy it.

To Jiang Bai, none of this made any sense.

A punishment from the sky? Was there something up there? Gods? Something else?

What exactly happened to this land, and why was it wiped out?

He and Albedo opened Cartis’s diary and began flipping through the pages, hoping to find an answer.

There were many entries—page after page, filling nearly the entire thick journal.

Skipping over the mundane ones, Jiang Bai focused on the parts about the mountain’s past.

June 8
I’ve searched every corner of this mountain. I’ve finally discovered the last stone stele that still bears legible writing. Using it—and the murals I’ve seen before—I’ve begun to piece together the history of this place.

It was a long, long time ago. Back then, the land we now call Mondstadt was buried under endless snow.

A group of people fled the cold and conflict, and came to this lush, verdant paradise. There, a massive silver-white tree grew from the ley lines, protecting the land from wind and snow.

Messengers of the gods descended from the heavens. Here, they listened to the voice of Celestia and established a nation called Sal Vindagnyr.

Blessed by the envoys and the ley lines, Vindagnyr flourished rapidly—and reached its zenith when a princess was born.

But the good times didn’t last. A nail fell from the sky, destroying everything—obliterating the silver tree that had protected them.

And so, the snow returned.

The people could no longer hear the voice from the sky.

Their sacred tree destroyed, they fled into shelters, trembling in the bitter cold.

The king, who once communicated with the gods, climbed to the peak to seek answers from the heavens—but he never returned.

In grief, the princess took up his duty. She plucked the most intact branch of the white tree, trying to heal the ley lines and prolong the land’s life—but she failed.

In the end, buried in ice and snow, that brief civilization came to an end.

After reading through Cartis’s journal, Jiang Bai finally understood what he’d meant earlier.

Long ago, a flourishing kingdom had existed here—but it had been destroyed by a divine nail from the sky. The ruins scattered across Dragonspine were remnants of that lost nation, Sal Vindagnyr.

“The sky… there’s something up there?” Jiang Bai looked up—but all he could see was snow and wind, masking whatever lay beyond.

“The seven who govern this world are called the Seven Archons, the Seven Sovereigns of the Mortal Realm,” Albedo explained. “But above them, there is Celestia—a floating island in the sky.”

“Ohhh, so the gods… have gods of their own.” Jiang Bai’s eyes widened in sudden understanding.

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This is a fan translation of 胡桃拿我冲业绩 by 余溯. All rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!