Notes

The next day, the sun rose over Green Forest as usual.

Alan Sothos prayed inwardly as he pulled back the curtains and saw the golden morning sun shining through the window. He finally let out a sigh of relief, 'Thank goodness... Thank goodness it's not here.'

Last night's dream, or rather the scene in the golden finger world, was truly terrifying.

Alan Sothos was afraid that he was actually altering the real world, which would spell his doom—a classic case of a transmigrator digging their own grave.

'But I just wanted to change the color of the sun... How did that lead to a world-transforming disaster? It's as if the scarlet sunlight contained some horrifying pollution that caused the entire world to start mutating instantly. And that craziness accompanying the power, could it be... there is something wrong with my golden finger?'

Alan Sothos opened a drawer and pulled out a black notebook. This was his Observer's Diary, filled with dense characters only he could understand.

...

[Known: After various inquiries, the knights and scholars in the territory do not possess mysterious powers.]

[Known: 'Grandmother Green Banyan Tree' is merely a common primitive nature worship totem, never having displayed any miracles.]

[Known: Through covert questioning of the maids and others, no one has crossed over into a clear world in their dreams.]

[In summary, it can be initially concluded that 'Dream Entry' is my golden finger.]

[Continuous observation experiments, by setting goals and references, confirm that the dream world has basic operating rules and is not just a figment of my imagination... The time flow rate in the dream world is not consistent with the real world.]

...

[Green Banyan Rooting Month, the 15th day: Followed my father in worshipping 'Grandmother Green Banyan Tree.' At night, I dreamt again of that world and changed the sun there, causing the entire world's crazed mutations... I surmise my golden finger power perhaps leans towards chaos? Or contains elements of madness??]

Dipping the hard goose feather quill into the ink, Alan's expression remained solemn as he made graceful marks on the slightly yellowed pages.

He paused, dipped the quill again, and continued writing:

[After altering the world, I felt extremely weak, as if I had returned to infancy.]

[Hypothesis: With each Dream Entry, or with each passing day in reality, my dream 'power' grows stronger. Last night it reached a certain 'limit'? Although the accumulated power vanished, a qualitative change might have occurred?]

[Items from the dream cannot be brought into this world, and the power in the dream seems unable to affect me in reality... So, what use is this dream? I can't even fully confirm if it's real or not!]

[Conclusion: Useless golden finger!]

Alan marked the final stroke, closed the notebook, and sighed.

In this foreign world, having a worthless golden finger is truly sorrowful.

Although last night's events proved the golden finger might not be utterly useless, it's still not very helpful.

With the impending war, there remains no viable solution.

'Although it's just a village head and township head level skirmish, it's still possible for people to die accidentally.'

With a hint of sentiment, Alan went to the dining room to have breakfast with his family.

The breakfast was quite hearty, featuring roasted bacon and white bread, various fresh fruits, and milk.

Theodore, Lady Sonia, Colin, and Ginny were all present.

Additionally, there was a bratty ten-year-old with white cloth and wooden slats tied around his leg—Alan's third brother, Sean Sothos.

Since Alan's biological mother passed away from illness, the lord had quickly remarried his third wife, and their relationship was fairly harmonious.

Especially after Sean was born, Colin saw him as his greatest rival.

At this moment, bratty Sean cut his food with a knife and fork and glanced at Alan with an air of pride.

'What's this? Showing off that you don't have to go to the battlefield because you're injured? No, you just don't need to go to the battlefield at all...'

Alan rolled his eyes and sat down in his seat.

Theodore ate quietly, and the butlers and maids stationed around didn't dare make a sound. The dining table was filled only with the occasional clinking of cutlery.

Finally, Alan heard his father's voice, 'What do you think about this upcoming fight, Alan?'

'Father...'

Alan organized his thoughts, 'From a moral standpoint, the other party violated the sacred marriage pact, so we have ample reasons to dispatch troops. But strategically, they control the upstream of Green Forest, giving them high mobility downstream.'

The vast Green Forest was controlled by two lords, Davis and Sothos, who were said to share some ancestral blood ties.

But without a doubt, those ties were now exceedingly thin in this generation.

Now, they were on the verge of armed conflict.

...

Breakfast passed quickly. Alan noticed that, although Lady Sonia appeared composed, her occasional glances at Colin were quite intriguing.

'It seems this lady probably thinks Sean's previous fall from the horse was Colin's doing... After all, Colin is the legitimate eldest son, and Sean his greatest rival... Well, I may have the smallest role, but I can't let my guard down. Sometimes, when the eldest and second sons fight, the third son can end up being collateral damage.'

With some contemplation, Alan arrived at the training ground in front of the castle.

He had always maintained a habit of daily exercise, and now, with the war approaching, he needed to keep honing his skills.

Alan gazed at his weapon rack. There it was, a black wooden stand hanging two weapons.

One sword had a long, slender blade with a complex, well-developed guard. It was light and flexible—a rapier, the precursor to modern fencing swords.

It was Alan's most frequently used weapon, mockingly named 'Sewing Needle' by Colin, implying it was a woman's weapon.

But Alan took it with a smile, knowing full well that a piercing wound was far more troublesome than a slash.

No matter if it was perforated vital organs causing internal bleeding or intestinal perforations leading to infections, in this era without surgical techniques, both were fatal!

Even losing an arm or leg had a better survival rate than a stab to a vital area!

The elegant appearance of the rapier concealed its formidable lethality.

Especially since it was lighter than other swords, allowing for prolonged combat.

In everyday use and for self-defense, the rapier was definitely the best choice, arguably the strongest handheld cold weapon in Western duels.

Naturally, Alan had put a lot of effort into mastering rapier techniques.

But now, he had to set it aside with a sigh, 'Not the right time. Although the rapier is excellent for everyday combat and self-defense, no one ventures out in heavy armor, but war is different!'

In the Davis territory, the common folks had no armor, but knights were a different story!

Each underwent professional training, their physical prowess and killing skills at the pinnacle; in battle, they were encased in thick metal armor!

The armor consisted of a series of components—inner armor, breastplate, skirt armor, helmet, iron gloves... it was essentially a tin can.

In fact, a well-crafted knight's armor was as valuable as an estate!

It's the nemesis of slender and thin rapiers!

Alan thought of this and directly picked up another cross long sword.

Its blade was wide, the hilt was pitch black, and it was nearly two meters long. It required a tall man to wield it. The blade even had serrations, all to increase its lethality when slashing at armor, making it a true weapon of the battlefield!

Hmm, during the new book phase, updates will be at 6 AM daily, with two chapters at a time. Haha, don't complain about it being too little; more will be added after it's released.

(End of this chapter)