Chapter 180: Chapter 180 If You Mention This, I Won’t Be Sleepy Anymore_1
Hearing Abigail say this, Aiden immediately tensed up.
Abigail actually had something to discuss alone with him, avoiding the other Great Witches... Could she really be another time traveler?
For a moment, Aiden almost blurted out in his perfect native tongue, "Are you a time traveler too?"
Having traveled to a strange world where society’s development lagged far behind his own era, Aiden certainly would have done everything possible to return if his life in the original world had not already ended.
At such a time, to meet a fellow "countryman" who was also a time traveler would excite anyone.
But he quickly suppressed this impulse and maintained his composure.
If Abigail really was a time traveler and prepared to acknowledge it, she would naturally speak up. The information regarding himself as a time traveler was related to Melifilia, and it wasn’t his place to broach the subject.
"What about?" he responded with as neutral a tone as possible.
"I want to confirm something, Your Excellency truly is a follower of the Flying Spaghetti Cult?" Abigail asked.
"And what if I am?" Aiden felt the other party was beating around the bush.
"Two hundred years ago, the Flying Spaghetti Cult had a fleeting presence in the Old Lese Kingdom and then disappeared without a trace. I’m curious where you received your legacy," Abigail continued to press.
Aiden still couldn’t tell if she was probing whether he was a time traveler or simply asking out of curiosity, and he hesitated for a moment.
Seeing his silence, Abigail rephrased the question, "Perhaps I should be more explicit. You surely know that the creator of this religion was a witch. Do you have any connection with her?"
After some thought, Aiden chose to respond with a question of his own, "You ask me this specifically, could it be you are related to her?"
Abigail fell silent, and this silence made Aiden, who was eager to confirm whether she was a time traveler, somewhat anxious. After a long while, Aiden couldn’t help breaking the silence first, "Don’t you like to be straightforward?"
"How rude of me, just asking questions unilaterally, which indeed doesn’t foster trust. Let me be frank then." Abigail seemed to have made up her mind, "In fact, I am the inheritor of that witch who founded the Flying Spaghetti Cult two hundred years ago."
"Inheritor?"
"Yes, by bloodline, she can be considered my grandmother. And as for discipleship, I am her apprentice’s disciple. My mother was born from an egg, created with her own blood as a material, and so was I," Abigail said slowly.
Aiden was slightly surprised, but then he realized Abigail’s explanation accounted for the disparity in active years between her and the nameless witch.
When authority existed in a physical form, it could exhibit some corresponding powers. Even without mastering the divine language, it could be used. The authority of "proliferation" might indeed have the power to reproduce.
"Did you keep me here just to confirm if I have any connection with your ancestor?" Aiden ventured.
"I actually have a favor to ask," Abigail said slowly.
"A favor?" Aiden was taken aback.
"I have a notebook here, left behind by the previous generation. But I have never been able to decipher the text on it, and I wonder if you can read it." Abigail raised her hand, and a notebook appeared in it from nowhere.
Upon hearing this, Aiden’s spirits lifted—notes left by another time traveler!?
In countless time-travel novels, the legacies left by predecessors from other worlds are synonyms for opportunity! Especially such written materials, which are often in the language of the previous world and unreadable to anyone in this world, are treasures left specifically for fellow time travelers.
Tell me about this, and I’m all ears!
Nevertheless, Aiden still suppressed his excitement, pretending to be calm as he answered, "Perhaps, I have studied a language said to be related to this religion, but I’m not sure if it’s the same language written in the notebook."
Showing too much eagerness might seem unnatural, and after all, Abigail, in order to decode the notebook, would most likely lend it to him to peruse.
Moreover, upon reflection, even if it was indeed another time traveler who had written the notes in their own mother tongue, he still might not be able to decipher it. He had only two pieces of information suggesting the witch might be a time traveler—knowledge of the Flying Spaghetti Cult and the use of chopsticks. These hints were not sufficient to confirm whether her native language was the same as his, considering that chopsticks were used as utensils in more than one country in his previous life.
But Abigail did not immediately hand over the notebook to him. Instead, she posed another question, "Can you now tell me where exactly you got your legacy from?"
After some thought, Aiden chose to fabricate an excuse, "When I was young, the elderly gentleman next door, apparently of Old Lese Kingdom descent, was a follower of the Flying Spaghetti Cult. He claimed a connection with the religion’s founder. I often visited his library, and it was from his collected notes that I first learned about the religion. He taught me a bit since he saw my interest in those things, including the language and script. I became a follower because I really like the doctrine of the Flying Spaghetti Cult—that food is more worthy of worship than gods."
Aiden outright chose the technique of fabricating a nonexistent person, and since Abigail herself did not seem to know about time travelers, there was no need to be truthful with her.
"Where is this elderly gentleman now?" Abigail asked persistently.
"He’s dead, has been for over ten years," Aiden said bluntly, nearly adding "even his ashes have been scattered."
Attributing matters to a deceased person was the most convenient way to keep secrets, especially for a non-existent person.
"The notes he left behind..." Abigail continued to pursue.
"Regrettably, I remember they were disposed of by his family," Aiden spread his hands.
Abigail remained silent for a long time, a silence that made Aiden somewhat nervous.
After a long while, Abigail finally spoke, "Let’s just leave it at that then."
With a wave of her hand, the notebook flew into the air, flipping open and shut in mid-air like a butterfly fluttering its wings, until it came to a halt in front of Aiden and opened.
Aiden focused on the notebook, seeing that Abigail obviously didn’t believe his story, but fortunately, she still tried to hand over the notebook for him to decipher.
The first few pages of the notebook had clearly been torn out, leaving jagged remnants, and on the first remaining page, Aiden saw the date, and below it, in a language he recognized as his mother tongue:
"I’ve been deceived..."
