1395 An Ordinary Person“s Daily Life 1/8

barton heard a man in a dark-blue bishop robe say to him.

no matter how hard he tried, the other man’s face was indiscernible. it felt like his face was covered with a gray, blurry gas.

of course, this wasn’t an important matter. as a devout believer of the lord, it was definitely the greatest honor for barton to meet a proxy of “him.”

this made him so excited that he couldn’t say a word. his body trembled as he followed the bishop to the back, entering the hall one step at a time.

barton couldn’t describe the hall in detail either. he only knew that it was very grand and magnificent, one that exuded an immense pressure. he could only bow his head obediently.

finally, he arrived in front of the steps.

at that moment, he seemed to receive permission as he subconsciously raised his head.

then, he saw a golden retriever.

this dog wore a deep blue, gorgeous robe that resembled a curtain. it wore a papal tiara with many gems embedded in it. it sat on a huge throne and watched him quietly.

“...” barton was stunned.

this, this is the pontiff? barton was shocked and panicked, a strong sense of fear rising in his heart.

he opened his eyes abruptly and saw the morning light illuminating the ceiling.

phew... barton sat up, panting slightly, trying to extricate himself from the influences of the dream as quickly as possible.

“what happened?” his wife sensed something amiss and got up.

barton shook his head.

“a nightmare.”

he didn’t tell his wife the truth—he dreamed that the pontiff was a golden retriever.

he could bet that his wife would say in horror, “how can you have such sacrilegious thoughts?”

if that were to happen, he could only shrug his shoulders and say, “just kidding.”

i can’t bring my troubles into my family life. this is a paradise for humans, meant for relaxing... moreover, women can hardly understand more profound questions. they have traits in being perceptive to thoughts, and love... barton didn’t dwell on the contents of his dream anymore. he got out of bed and went to the bathroom to brush his teeth.

after breakfast, he kissed his wife and children before leaving his residence and taking a trackless public carriage to the working district at the edge of the city.

he was under the employment of the loen relic search and preservation foundation with a sizable salary. in places like the capital of east chester county, stoen city, he was considered to be upper-middle class.

on the way, barton studied the streets outside out of boredom.

due to not being directly affected by the war, stoen city still retained its former prosperity. carriages, bicycles, pedestrians, and wild dogs came and went; it was lively and noisy.

barton was already used to such a scene. he didn’t have much of an impression of it, but the dream from last night made him uncomfortable every time he saw a dog on the street. it was as if it was the incarnation of the pontiff, one that he needed to bow to and greet.

“holy lord of storms, please forgive your penitent servant.” barton raised his right hand, clenched his fist, and gently struck his left chest.

after a while, he arrived at the loen relic search and preservation foundation. as he greeted his colleagues, he walked into his office.

after hanging up his hat and coat, barton relaxed and leisurely prepared some special black tea for himself—he was almost middle-aged, and his energy was dropping. he always hoped to use a simpler method to supplement his body without suffering any hardship.

after preparing the black tea, barton picked up a few newspapers on the desk and wanted to prep himself before starting work.

the economic situation in backlund last season has greatly improved...

another pirate at the level of king has appeared in the sonia sea and the berserk sea, queen of stars...

desi bay fruits trade fair...

after reading the newspaper slowly, barton took a sip of black tea and started his work.

a letter from vernal? barton found a letter from an old friend as he examined the documents on his table.

he was an archaeologist who had a close relationship with the loen relic search and preservation foundation.

barton immediately took out a letter cutter, took out the letter, and read it seriously.

“my dear friend,

“my students and i found some interesting ruins in the mountains of sivellaus county. perhaps they originated from refugees from the fourth epoch...

“in that period of history that we don’t know much about, they left the city for reasons unbeknown to us. they entered the forests, and stopped interacting with the outside world again. they existed in the form of a tribe...

“they might still be guarding something, but it has long been drowned out by time, leaving behind only ruins and corpses...

“my students and i will excavate this place while employing conservation practices. we hope to find something more useful that can help us restore the history of the fourth epoch. i wonder if your foundation is interested in this.

“...here, i solemnly invite you to send a team over to confirm if our work is real and effective...”

going into the mountains... the first thing that surfaced in barton’s mind was not the relics or the history, but the buzzing mosquitoes, the humid, dark environment, and the camp that became a temptation to the wild beasts.

he shook his head and picked up a pen and paper. he prepared to file this letter and send it to his superiors.