After the Lord of the Abyss Awakens - Chapter 130.1

The golden chinchilla cat was elated and jumping with joy.

At this time, Beleth roared in the private message space. “Fifth Brother, please let me out first!”

The golden chinchilla cat paused, smiled and responded, “Okay, but I want to remind you that I can only release your split body, not your main body. Are you ready?”

Beleth had just finished tidying up. His domain was piled with countless books and “workbooks”, with three exhausted black historical demons slumped behind him.

The three demons had used all their skills to finally complete their homework, perhaps having never worked this hard in their entire life.

They looked at Beleth, as if all their hopes were pinned on him.

Beleth was supremely confident, answering, “I’ve been ready long ago.”

The golden chinchilla cat gave a sideways smile, “Good, come over.”

The next second, orange light flickered in the room, and a large orange cat walked out of the spatial channel.

Compared to the gold-glowing golden chinchilla cat’s big bread-like form, the large orange cat looked like a more burnt and brighter big bread. In terms of body size, the orange cat was obviously larger than the golden chinchilla cat, probably six or seven pounds heavier, with more obvious belly fat, walking heavily, swaying like caramel jelly, easily making people feel hungry.

The golden chinchilla cat high-fived the approaching large orange cat, then asked, “Do you need help?”

The large orange cat sat down and nodded. “Not for now. I’ve already contacted a wandering poet partner.”

The golden chinchilla cat acknowledged. “Then let’s start whitewashing – oops! Historical re-editing.”

The large orange cat nodded solemnly, with a strong sense of mission in His eyes, and declared loudly, “Leave it to me!”

After speaking, an orange light flashed, and the historical re-editing officially began!

****

On another side, by the coast.

The Evil of the Universe, Arnolo, gazed at the horizon, seemingly still pondering Ye Qingyi’s coffin emergence.

“……”

He remained silent for a long time, with a black coffin lying horizontally beside Him, His head covered with stars.

Anyone looking up here would see a mysterious and profound universe.

Every star seemed like the eye of a great existence – and indeed they were.

****

Meanwhile, in a small tavern in the Oedipus Empire.

“Boss, stop sleeping! Do you still have any grape wine?”

A wine-loving muscular man vigorously shook the tavern boss sleeping on the bar.

The tavern boss turned his face, displaying a completely relaxed sleeping expression with no reaction. Suddenly, he opened his eyes wide, as if receiving a major divine command, and immediately stood up, speaking loudly, “Haha, finally waited for this! We’ll execute immediately!”

The muscular man was bewildered. What arrived? What execution?

While he stood dumbfounded, the boss rushed out the door and… never returned?

“Hey! Where’s my wine!”

At the same time, in the Aust Empire’s Historical Library, a group of historians received the same message.

“Has it finally come? The command from Them.”

They were internally shocked, their hands and feet involuntarily trembling, simultaneously turning to look at Helen standing on the balcony.

Helen supported her face, laughed at the message, “It’s here. I thought we’d have to wait much longer, but it’s finally arrived! So everyone, start acting!”

The historians froze for a moment, then immediately began to move.

****

At the same time, the Continental Human Alliance’s History and Culture Research Institute’s director opened an envelope.

Inside was a black letter. As soon as he opened it, a dark light flashed.

The letter wasn’t the message; the light was.

The light carried massive information, telling him what he should do next and the main content of the historical re-editing.

The director first reviewed the content himself, with shock increasingly accumulating in his eyes. Although he had considered the possibility and discovered much historical evidence, even halfway through the project, he hadn’t expected the entire historical line to be like this.

These things would certainly provoke controversy. Would the world easily believe them?

He didn’t have much confidence, but he believed in Their methods.

“I’m just not sure if the time limit isn’t too short? To gain trust in such a short time, and from people all over the world…”

The old man stroked his beard, then slowly stood up, walking to the balcony, fixing his gaze on the horizon, quietly saying. “But no matter what, it’s time to let the world know the truth.”

He would give a green light on the alliance side, but the real action would depend on the wandering poets scattered worldwide.

****

Meanwhile, wandering poets from various countries gradually began their actions.

In taverns, on roadsides, in any place with people, their figures appeared worldwide.

In the tavern of the Hammurabi Empire, there were a full thousand people.

They had heard a very famous wandering poet had arrived, immediately rushing to hear the story, each filled with anticipation, only to hear a story almost completely different from current history.

They doubted their own ears. The wandering poet sang beautifully, but was the content serious? Were these historical accounts real?

How could the Abyss Lord Amon be good? Wasn’t He the demon who loved playing on the continent’s abyss? Anyone who encountered Him would be totally unlucky!

And Botis, with His powers of [Sin] and [Punishment] that made all humanity tremble, who had indeed destroyed a country! What hidden story could there be?

Not to mention that Beelzebub, the Abyss Lord of Gluttony, had eaten an entire race. Wasn’t He the human threat?

Such new historical narratives were often hard to immediately accept, especially with several well-known human threats in the story. People’s historical concepts were like ideological stamps, deeply rooted and difficult to convince.

So the historical re-editing had just begun, with dissent arising worldwide, with people even questioning on the spot.

“Sir, re-editing cannot be random fabrication. Do you have historical evidence for these claims?”

“The Abyss Lords are powerful and terrifying. What if they find out about these stories?”

“Teacher Allen, I’ve always trusted you and know stories are half-true and half-false, but isn’t this version too fabricated?”

Most people were skeptical. Some treated it just as a story, completely unable to take it seriously. Storytelling was what wandering poets were best at, right? How could you take it seriously?

On-site debates gradually expanded, with arguments breaking out in some places.

In the Aust Empire’s Historical Hall, hearing such obviously fabricated claims, a group of old men became angry and criticized Helen.

“Historical scholarship isn’t about being novel and distinctive. Do you have evidence for these research findings? Are you randomly making things up to grab attention?”

But they didn’t realize this initial stage was merely a prelude, preparing the ground for the following story. It was indeed to grab attention, but not through random fabrication.

This strategy came from Aelioge.

In Aelioge’s view, if they simply told the story, They couldn’t possibly gain much spread, and regardless of whether Their story was true or false, many would disbelieve. After all, black history was called black history precisely because it was dark enough and couldn’t be easily erased through conventional means.

So They needed a communication strategy. First, throw out highly controversial, exaggerated conclusions – the more exaggerated, the better – creating a series of spectacles, just to make everyone discuss hotly. The more questioners and opponents, the better.

People naturally liked seeing spectacles. They didn’t want ordinary things; the more extraordinary, the better. What They wanted was spread and topic, to let the entire world know, not just humans, but all races including elves and goblins.

And how was the execution? The answer was perfect. There were doubts everywhere, endless debates. What started as a small matter quietly became a big one, even alarming official imperial authorities in some regions, with the fastest news agencies already publishing reports.

The initial stage of execution was successful! Next, wandering poets would increase their efforts, ignoring surrounding doubts and opposition, continuing to pose three questions to everyone.

First, what was the Abyss Era?

Second, what had the Abyss Lords done in those eight thousand years?

Third, what mysteries surrounded Them, and why? Who knew the answers?

Wandering poets were too skilled at creating mystery. As soon as the questions dropped, many people were stunned, forced to contemplate those three questions.

They had thought about these before, but what use was thinking? Even the Abyss Lords’ contract holders probably didn’t know the answers, right?

In the deep night of the Oedipus Empire, Beleth appeared at the highest altitude magic bell tower, His hands moving like an orchestra conductor, quickly collecting and digesting information from around the world, steadily controlling the spread’s rhythm.

If He had His second brother’s cognitive manipulation magic, perhaps it wouldn’t be so complicated. But great demons had great demon methods, and small demons had small demon methods. With His second brother currently asleep, He would naturally have to handle things Himself.

During the implementation, the golden chinchilla cat heard some “noise” and couldn’t help feeling worried, asking the large orange cat. “Beleth, is your progress going smoothly? Do you need help?”

At this moment, two small pigeons were perched on the cat’s head, while also holding another one in His hand.

Hearing this, He shook His head. “Leave it to me.”

Just imagine, how could one become a wandering poet without some skills in their head? He was the world-traveling, nationwide historical first wandering poet-cat!

“What just happened was just the beginning. The real show is yet to come.”

The golden chinchilla cat felt relieved, “Then we’ll wait and see.”

The large orange cat said. “Changing perceptions always takes time. As long as the external environment doesn’t change, our historical re-editing will inevitably proceed smoothly.”

His words revealed an important premise – whether the external environment could remain unchanged and free from interference.

They currently had two troubles: the Evil of the Universe, and the Creator God. These two were particularly troublesome. The Evil of the Universe werewolf had self-destructed, bringing out the Creator God, currently subtly intensifying Their conflict with the Creator God. The Creator God’s current actions were limited to sending Death and Silence, then remaining motionless, with unknown intentions.

These two could potentially hinder the historical re-editing, although it might not necessarily benefit Them.

The golden chinchilla cat analyzed. “Beleth, don’t worry about anything else. Focus on the historical re-editing. If you encounter danger, tell me immediately. I’ll always be monitoring your situation.”

“Okay.”

The large orange cat nodded, walking into the spatial channel again.

What was He doing? Arrangements were almost complete, so it was time for Him to personally step in.

****

Three minutes later, the largest park in the Roman Kingdom was bustling with people, instantly packed with tens of thousands of people.

Confused passersby were stunned, asking those nearby, “What’s happening in front?”

Most people didn’t answer, except one who turned around, excited. “The legendary strongest wandering poet has arrived!”

“The strongest wandering poet?”

The passerby was bewildered, immediately following the crowd. This was such a fresh event – how could they not follow? Their Roman Kingdom was famous for loving spectacles.

Moreover, the historically strongest wandering poet – seeing them was a rare opportunity that might never come again.

The national park was truly packed, with people pressed against each other, generating considerable heat. The crowding was dangerous, but fortunately the Roman Kingdom had promptly dispatched soldiers to maintain order.

“Did you see Him?”

“Yes, on the central platform. By the Goddess of Harmony, He looks so young!”

In the central area surrounded by crowds, a platform stood with an extraordinarily temperamental young man.

The youth had golden hair and green eyes, a slender figure, and a beautiful appearance with incredible charisma. Just one glance made their hearts skip a beat.

He was the historically strongest wandering poet!

They had no doubts at all, believing Him from the first glance, as if enchanted, genuinely staying to listen to His performance.

The green-eyed youth in the crowd’s center gradually revealed historical truths, His voice smooth as a spring, melodious and touching, flowing directly into their hearts, consciousness, and even souls.

The [Word Spirit] power was silently taking effect, gently transforming people’s perceptions.

He selectively truncated history, starting from the day They emerged from the abyss, ending at the present, spanning over eight thousand years, incredibly long. Normally, it would be impossible to complete such a narrative, and even if one tried, it would take at least several years, and that would be under extremely condensed information.

Don’t forget, this historical re-editing involved twenty-four subjects. Normally, just describing one would be challenging enough. Describing so many at once – how could one do that?

Therefore, how to tell the story was the first question. Whether to narrate by events or by individuals made a significant difference. Beleth had to make a choice and devise the most efficient storytelling method. After all, He was different from His omnipotent second brother and couldn’t directly inject information into people’s minds, though He did that to the wandering poet assistants. But human brains couldn’t be generalized – wandering poets’ brains were particularly adept.