There were no names in the records. They only spoke about the Divine Maiden, the most powerful among the shamans born on the island; the Doll-Faced Demon, the entity living in the depths; and the Molten Wolf, the entity who lived by the isolated islets nearby. Instead of saying fart-face, Milan chose to borrow the term from the old records.
However, Melba was more interested in the written cipher. The strokes were crooked and hard to read, especially by how the person wrote the current alphabet they used. She even hummed as if drawn to it. “Who made this? It doesn’t seem to be your handwriting…”
“Let’s see… Lasair said he was having a hard time controlling the pencil, but I think he just doesn’t write legibly.” Milan cracked a giggle as he teased the absent deity. Whether Lasair was making excuses or not, Milan still regarded Lasair to be like a little child who couldn’t write beautiful letters.