Veldu unconsciously swallowed a gulp of saliva, feeling an indescribable sense of fear. He didn't know what exactly he was afraid of—there was no tangible danger, merely a single drop of unknown liquid falling from above, which sent a chill down his spine and tightened his pores. Perhaps the atmosphere here was simply too eerie and still, or perhaps the nature and origin of the liquid itself were mysterious. Veldu took cautious steps outward, settling into a patient observation. For the next few minutes, nothing unusual occurred—no further drops fell from above. This led Veldu to reasonably suspect that only a bird had passed by, carrying a fish in its beak—either a sea fish or one caught in the island's stream, with a slightly viscous liquid dripping from the fish's surface. Calming himself, he resumed his inspection of the telegraph station ruins. After ten minutes, Veldu had初步 confirmed that the site contained only bloodstains, rudimentary murals, and elements of esoteric significance, all worthy of further study. He did not rashly gather the crimson soil or imprint the strange murals, but instead withdrew a pure, dreamlike crystal sphere from his clothing pocket. As a "astrologer," he naturally employed his most proficient method to determine whether to act. Holding the crystal sphere in his left hand and gently caressing it with his right, Veldu entered the state of "astrology." The very next moment, the crystal sphere burst into brilliant light. *Pop!* It exploded, scattering its fragments in all directions. ……Veldu's gaze froze; he stood motionless, completely ignoring the pain caused by the fragments piercing his body. "It exploded... it actually exploded..." he murmured, struggling to accept what had happened. The fragments embedded in his body seemed to have failed to penetrate his classical robe, gently settling to the ground without staining a single drop of blood. Of course, a few fragments remained on his jaw and face, creating small wounds. "Who?" Veldu suddenly awoke and turned toward the other side. From the ruins, a figure stepped forward—she was the woman from the pirate ship, dressed somewhat revealingly. She had been well concealed and unnoticed by Veldu until the explosion of the crystal orb startled her, prompting an abrupt and noticeable reaction that caused her to fail in her stealth. Veldu's injured face twisted slightly: "Why are you here?" The woman arched her lips, adopting a composed, indifferent demeanor: "This is Banzhi Port, not your home. Why shouldn't I be here? I've been feeling bored, so I decided to disembark and take a walk. I hope to find some jewelry or trinkets among the ruins—doesn't that sound reasonable?" She asked two questions in succession, clearly showing no intention of distancing herself from Veldu. Veldu didn't argue; instead, he produced the prepared ointment and medical alcohol, treating the injuries on his face and jaw, and carefully placed all the fragments of the crystal orb back into his clothing pocket. He didn’t want his blood to remain in such an oddly mysterious place. Then, Veldura pulled at a decorative motif on his classical robe. It consisted of a "door" pattern made of three rubies, three emeralds, and three diamonds. Almost instantly, the robe tightened sharply, bringing out the contours of his flesh one block at a time. As his bones were about to break, his form gradually faded and vanished. Then, he was "transmitted" to a mountain peak on the coast outside Bansi Harbor. That mountain peak had also collapsed, now reduced to a heap of scattered rocks. According to Veldura’s knowledge, this site had once been where the Bansi people performed rituals to honor the "God of Weather," and it had been a primary target of the Storm Church. — After the crystal sphere had signaled to him, through its self-explosion, that the Bansi telegraph office concealed an unknown danger, Veldura could no longer proceed to explore further or gather esoteric materials there, and thus had to forcibly transfer to his pre-arranged next destination. And thus he escaped the woman's pursuit. As维尔杜's figure emerged, he bent forward, gasping deeply, as though finally recovering from a state of suffocation. At the same time, a sharp pain shot through his right rib area, as though a bone had broken. After taking several deep breaths, he pressed down on the pain, perspiring slightly, and took a few steps forward until he reached the altar marked on the map. Undoubtedly, the altar had been destroyed, leaving behind a massive, glassy depression slightly blackened by fire, with scattered fragments of stone of various shapes scattered around it. These stones bore traces of fire and lightning damage. Upon surveying the scene,维尔杜 raised his right hand and lifted his sleeve. A sudden gust of wind blew forth, pushing aside some of the smaller stones, revealing the ground previously concealed beneath them. This is the "Master of Illusions’" "Wind Technique," which Vildu uses to replace his own physical labor, ensuring maximum safety for himself. As the fragments of stone "fly" away, Vildu observes the ground itself scorched black, with certain areas bearing only sparse, severely fragmented patterns, lines, and symbols. Wooh! The wind grows increasingly fierce, now swirling powerfully around his ears, prompting him to lift his gaze toward the sky. The wind that once merely moved small stones has transformed into a hurricane, now pushing him so that he stumbles slightly. Vildu soon sees thick clouds gathering overhead, as though a storm is imminent. Though he had heard of Banxi as the "Museum of Weather," he had never imagined the change would come so suddenly. For a brief moment, Vildu wonders whether it is his own "Wind Technique" that has summoned the storm, or whether the clearing of the ruined altar has triggered some latent transformation. This speculation caused cold sweat to bead rapidly on his forehead. Amid the gale,维尔杜 saw a pile of rubble being lifted up to the side, revealing a massive stone buried beneath it. Deep, intersecting fissures ran across the stone's surface, giving the impression that it would crack upon mere contact. The wind had now subsided somewhat, though the heavy rain was still building up. Reflecting on having arrived at Banxi Port, he resolved not to be daunted and approached the massive stone, its surface streaked with blackened cracks. He then produced a magnifying glass with an unusual engraved handle, carefully examining the stone's condition. After seven or eight minutes,维尔杜 set aside the magnifying glass, which seemed to possess magical properties, and sighed with a sense of both disappointment and frustration. He had now preliminarily confirmed that the stone was in no way problematic and did not involve any esoteric elements. As he was about to shift his gaze and prepare to leave, he suddenly noticed a faint streak of fresh red seeping from where the stone met the soil. The bright red gradually spread out, like blood seeping and spreading. Yet it didn't penetrate much, remaining confined to a small area. Instantly,维尔杜's mind flashed back to the two streaks of blood-red human silhouettes he had seen in the ruins of the telegraph office, and a sharp, tingling sensation surged through his scalp. His lips grew dry almost instantly, and he instinctively felt this was no good sign. He swallowed again, raised his right hand, and summoned a fresh gust of wind, sending numerous small pebbles rolling over to completely fill the base of the massive stone, thus concealing the fresh red stains. He didn't linger here, pressing on to initiate the "transmission" once more, heading toward his final designated destination. This time, another rib broke, the pain so intense it nearly sent him into a fainting spell. Combined with the suffocating pressure from spatial compression,维尔杜 felt as though he were hovering on the brink of death. It took him full several seconds to recover, and then he turned his gaze toward the ahead. Here too, the scene is a ruin, with collapsed houses covering the overgrown ground. According to one of the pirates who had explored the ruins of Banxi, there is one item worth studying: a rather ordinary wooden door, yet it is the only thing entirely preserved in all of Banxi. That pirate found no special features on the door and thus ordered his men to lift it and bring it aboard. But as soon as they took just a few steps, they suddenly collapsed—heads dragging behind their spines, separating from their bodies and rolling sideways. This frightened the pirate deeply, who then, without hesitation, led the remaining crew in a hasty retreat. Veldu didn't fully believe the account, though he hadn't sailed much—he knew well that seamen loved to exaggerate, often turning a matter of two or three parts into something of eleven or twelve. Nevertheless, even if it were all mere embellishment, Veldu believed the wooden door deserved further study. After a bit of searching, he spotted his target: a seemingly ordinary wooden door leaning against a collapsed wall, with brass-colored lock and handle. There were no bodies nearby, nor any bloodstains—just as consistent with the rest of the ruins. Indeed, he had been exaggerating—perhaps the pirate had heard about this door from elsewhere, and his crew had never dared attempt to move it. Veldu surveyed the scene and suddenly asked, "Who? Why are you watching me?" Though he hadn't actually noticed anyone around, he had used his words and reactions to deceive any potential observers based on prior experience. The very next moment, a middle-aged man with a prominent belly stepped out from a shadowy corner. He said nothing, simply walked away. Veldu felt relieved, breathed a quiet sigh of relief, and quickly approached the door. According to the intelligence he had gathered, pushing either way on the wooden door would not produce any unusual effects, and any touch without attempting to move it posed no danger. After thinking for a few seconds, Verdou withdrew his hand from his sleeve, using his classical robe as a glove, and pulled the door. The door rose upright, and the surrounding area fell into quiet. Verdou then pushed the door as one would normally open it, but still saw no change. He tried several other methods, yet none of them caused the door to display any anomaly—seeming truly fortunate that it had remained intact during the storm church's devastating assault. Taking a deep breath, Verdou worked to regain his composure. He thought again and attempted the opening motion once more. This time, however, he grasped the handle and gently twisted it downward. Upon hearing a soft metallic click, he pushed forward, causing the wooden door to tilt backward and rest against the collapsed, crumbling wall. Suddenly, a gray and white mist appeared before Veldu's eyes. Within the mist, a faint street and a row of connected houses were visible. On one of the houses, a wooden plaque was embedded, inscribed with several Runes words: "Port Banshe Telegraph Office." As Veldu's pupils dilated, a calm voice emanated from within the misty telegraph office: "Are you here to send a telegram? Please come in."