Boom! Boom! Inside a underground shelter in Beckland, Audrey, dressed in hunting attire, leaned forward, listening intently to the explosions that still seemed distant. When she turned around, she caught Melissa gazing at her with a slightly puzzled expression. The young woman, just coming of age, spoke in a dreamy tone: "Miss Audrey, if we truly fail, will the war end—will we no longer have to worry about bombardments, aerial attacks, or shortages of food?" Audrey looked at her deeply and replied: "Then you'd have to change your beliefs." Melissa hesitated, unsure of what to say. At that moment, a civilian curled up against the wall broke in: "I believe in the God of Steam and Machinery! Even if the Fasquar and Intis win, I won't need to change!" And then, life could return to its warm, peaceful state once again. This statement stirred many civilians who had taken refuge in the shelters, prompting frequent whispers and lively discussions about possible developments—among them, several devoted to the night. For most people, faith was not as crucial as life itself, since, in the end, it was still a true deity who would protect them. The police responsible for maintaining order in the shelters did not intervene against this commotion; they watched silently, even with a touch of anticipation. Yet the defeated would endure suffering far more severe than anyone could imagine—something that cannot simply be summed up by a mere shift in belief. Whether drawn from historical lessons or deduced from the current state of human hearts, Audrey was more pessimistic than anyone else here. She took in the scene, and silently murmured to herself, "The goddess's anchor is being shaken across the board... If it weren't for the grain distributed earlier, the situation might have completely collapsed already." She knew very well what this meant, and with her eyes closed, her face slightly tilted upward, she whispered without sound, "The divine war is about to begin... The final outcome is drawing near." After giving a nod to Melissa, Audrey turned and walked toward the exit of the shelter. There, the golden-haired dog, Suzy, stood like a well-qualified guardian. "You seem not inclined to return," Suzy sniffed, speaking softly. Audrey had taken refuge in this shelter at the very start of today's siege, and had not had time to return to her manor in the Queen's Quarter. As the fighting settled, Count Holber had already sent two messages urging her to go home and join the noble families' shelters. Audrey shook her head and offered a gentle smile. "I need to do what I should be doing." Without waiting for Susie to respond, she smiled again. "You stay here and quietly soothe their emotions—keep things calm. If they'd like to touch you, let them." Susie hesitated for a moment, then said, "Alright." Audrey said no more, and left the shelter, her departure completely ignored by the soldiers on duty. Outside, the sky was overcast, many buildings had collapsed, and flames that were nearly out flickered weakly. The streets were empty—no carriages, no pedestrians. This was nothing like Audrey remembered of Beacon Hills. Once, Beacon Hills had been blue, yellow, and off-white—vibrant, bustling, full of life. Now it was gray, black, and deep crimson—wan, disordered, and carrying a quiet stillness. She glanced around, oriented herself in her hunting attire, and headed toward the city's edge. Her task was simple: join the war, do her best to prevent the kingdom of Runa from collapsing before the divine conflict concluded; if the victorious side was the opposing force, she would use methods such as suggestion, hypnosis, and spiritual plague to calm the outbursts of soldiers, officers, and extraordinary beings, thereby minimizing the war's damage. Moving swiftly through the wavering flames, she pressed on toward the distant horizon. "Why does it feel like there's an invisible lightning jumping across my skin?" "Goodness?" Ayn Cortman, tall and broad-shouldered with strong, defined lines, snorted. Hmph. If it weren't for the fact that the 'Sailors'—well, they're usually so hot-tempered that it's hard to tell whether they're joking or being sarcastic, I'd hardly need to speak like this now. Even when angry, they often lose sight of the bigger picture. Honestly! Danyz muttered, maintaining a smile, and clearly conveyed the rebels' intentions. Ayn Cortman gazed at the sea-dweller, whose very presence was still uncertain—had he even disembarked from the 'Golden Dream'? Suddenly, he chuckled, "If we withdraw most of our forces, will you be able to hold back Bayam and the archipelago? And if you can't, how will you safeguard the interests of the Luon settlers?" "As a party half-divine, he was certain that the sea god Kavitova had already fallen, yet he didn't know who currently bore the title of 'Sea God'—whether that person had the strength to protect the Roath Islands. That's a well-posed question... the fact that it's being asked suggests there's a chance for successful negotiation. Dainiz hadn't actually considered how the resistance might counter the Vasa and Feneport forces after Run had withdrawn its strongest warriors to reinforce Bekland; he fully trusted that General Garmen Sparrow and the 'Fool' behind him were capable of safeguarding the region. In the span of a thought, Dainiz turned to the imposing 'King of the Sea,' Aen Cortman, across from him, and said: 'I will pray to my lord, asking that He protect the Roath Islands.' 'Hm?' Aen Cortman's eyes narrowed slightly, and he took a step forward." The presence emanating from the path of the "tyrant" instantly caused Daniz to step back two paces, lower his head, and begin praying on the spot: "O beings favored by the sea and the spirit realm, guardian of the Rosedale Isles, ruler of marine life, master of tsunamis and gales, great Cavitua—please bestow your power and protect the islands..." After finishing his prayer, Daniz carefully turned his gaze toward the window, but found no unusual signs. Aen. Cortman studied him for a few seconds, then said: "Your deity seems to have failed to respond." "Cough," Daniz cleared his throat, feeling his heart pounding like a drum. At that very moment, the sky outside suddenly darkened, as if vast clouds had drifted in, obscuring the sun. Instinctively, Aen. Cortman turned his head toward the window, and there, at the boundary between sea and sky, a shadow had settled. With control over the waters of the archipelago, the storm church cardinal's mind swiftly painted a clear picture: the whole of the Rosted Isles, along with their surrounding seas, was shrouded in thick mist, appearing hazy and unreal; a seabird flew overhead, attempting to land on the port cliff, yet passed straight through without settling. The ordinary people within the islands continued their daily lives, merely sensing that another storm was on the way. This… Ayn. Koutman's deep blue eyes widened noticeably, and instinctively turned to look at Daniz, the one who claimed to be a favored one of the "Sea God," known as "Flame." Daniz's mouth hung slightly open, his astonishment no less than that of the "Sea King." A few seconds later, the mist cleared and the shadows faded, restoring the islands to their former appearance. "...," Daniz blinked, chuckling softly as Ayn. Koutman once again turned to him, "My Lord has answered the prayers." As he spoke, this seasoned pirate, now earning over ten thousand pounds in rewards, mentally slapped himself hard twice: Dogged! You dare question the "Fool"?! Is that the power of the "Fool"?! Aen Cortman remained silent for a few seconds, then said, "I will carefully consider your proposal. I will immediately convene several key figures from Bayam to discuss this matter and get back to you within one hour." Daniz slightly raised his chin, smiled, and said, "I will patiently wait." Then, following the instinct of the "Hunter," he casually bowed and stepped out of the room. Within the creaking sounds, flashes of silver lightning illuminated Aen Cortman's blue eyes. ........ On the gray mist, within the ancient palace. Kaine tossed the "curtain" back into the "iron pot" and resealed the ward. He had just used the ability of Sequence 1, "The Enigmatic Servant," to mobilize the forces of "The Source Citadel," producing an effect that even "The Sea King" Ayn Cortman found astonishing. In another half-day, the extraordinary traits of "The Enigmatic Servant" would fully manifest, and the remaining ones could be directly employed to formulate "Miracle Master" potions. Once only Sequence 2 members remained, he could attempt to use the power of "The Source Citadel" to shatter and reassemble it, thereby extracting extraordinary traits such as "The Ancient Scholar" and "The Enigmatic Mage" over a shorter timeframe, thus reducing the risks associated with the potions. After muttering a few remarks, Caine swiftly returned to the real world. The place he now occupied was not a dark, open wilderness, but the majestic "Kingdom of the Giants," frozen in the hues of dusk. He had entered the "Kingdom of the Giants" before the Silver City exploration team reached the afternoon settlement. Amid the warm, orange-gold light, Caine felt his body weakening and weary, gazing upward at the magnificent and splendid complex of buildings. Those countless palaces and towers still carry the lingering glow of the Second Age, as if materializing myths and legends. No—this *is* the myth and legend. Before the Silver City exploration team officially begins its mission, Caine intends to personally attempt to awaken the palace where the "Dark Angel" Salsir has been sleeping. In this way, should any unforeseen events arise, the Silver City team will have time to make targeted preparations, while Caine himself, benefiting from historical image projections through the historical rift, will undoubtedly be far safer than anyone else. PS: Requesting a guaranteed monthly ticket for February—tomorrow we'll resume publishing two installments. PS2: Reagan's new book, *The Heroes of History*, a historical official development series—those who enjoy this genre are encouraged to collect and read it.