Tarthocas: Chronicles of the Transmigrating Scribe Chapter 36: Chapter 35

Read chapter 36 of Tarthocas: Chronicles of the Transmigrating Scribe by Bigmachine on NovelPedia.

The Shambala Archipelago could be said to be another world of its own due to the several rules put forth by Old Xia. Although the language bore a resemblance to that of the Continent, it had evolved over time, developing unique nuances and expressions. The names of its ten islands provided a striking example of this linguistic divergence. Names such as Jialin Pinjia Zhi Yin and Guanyaon Dao were merely translations, pale imitations of the original dialect in which they were known as Kinnara’i Gyi Sangsum and Chenrezig Ling, respectively. This caused many tourists or individuals who came from The Continent to fumble as their language was difficult to speak for those who for their entire lives were accustomed to a single language. “But that ain’t me,” Ling Xuan thought inwardly as he held a book while eating breakfast in one of the bustling restaurants on the island. The aroma of exotic spices filled the air, mingling with the sounds of animated conversations and the clinking of utensils. The restaurant, a quaint establishment with wooden beams and paper lanterns, was a favourite among locals and a few savvy travellers. Due to possessing both Urizen and The Library, each an unthinkably vast reservoir of information, Ling Xuan had an edge that few could match. Urizen allowed him to create specialised programs, one of which instinctively translated languages both ways. All Ling Xuan had to do was read the dictionary, and with Urizen’s help, he could understand and speak the local tongue fluently. It turned out the locals of the islands greatly appreciated when a foreigner could speak their language fluently, and they treated such individuals far better than those who couldn't. This cultural nuance had proven advantageous for Ling Xuan, allowing him to acquire several items, including the book he was reading, at a fraction of their usual cost. “The 32 Kings of Shambhala, eh?” Ling Xuan perked up his eyes as he read on, intrigued by the title. The Shambhala Archipelago not only possessed its own language and culture but also its own unique leadership structure. These leaders were subsidiary to the Empire, but they wielded significant power within the archipelago. The 32 Kings of Shambhala were established in response to numerous revolts and protests that had once rocked the archipelago. The Empire, with its primitive ships, found it impractical to send troops across the vast distances to quell these revolts. Such an endeavour would have been an enormous waste of resources. However, ignoring the protests was also not an option, as the archipelago possessed incredibly rare and valuable resources that the Empire could not afford to lose. To manage this delicate situation, the Empire granted a degree of autonomy to the archipelago, allowing the 32 Kings to govern. These kings were chosen from the families who had deep connections to The Empire, thus reducing the chances of future problems. From then on, the 32 Kings ruled, with each island having at least four kings, and more depending on the size of the island and its distance from the mainland. The further an island was from the mainland, the fewer kings it had. Jialin Pinjia Zhi Yin island boasted the most with a staggering seven kings, whereas the furthest island, Guanyaon Dao, had only a single king due to its population always remaining relatively constant. Ling Xuan took a moment to savour his surroundings as he sat in the restaurant, enjoying the lively atmosphere. The restaurant was a charming blend of traditional and contemporary styles. Wooden beams crisscrossed the ceiling, and paper lanterns cast a warm, inviting glow. The walls were adorned with intricate tapestries depicting scenes from local folklore, and the air was filled with the mouth-watering aromas of various dishes being prepared. MUNCH! A crisp sound was produced as Ling Xuan took a bite of the fried potato with his chopsticks. The golden brown exterior gave way to a soft, flavorful interior. The fried potato was