Everyone's gaze turned simultaneously toward the Lord of the Stars. As a peak Sovereign of comparable caliber to Fu Qingxuan, the Mage King naturally held a place within the half-gods' sphere of vision. Jiang Chief was astonished, "Is the Mage King's demise still connected to you?" The young sapling swayed its tender leaves, "Not only connected to him—it's also tied to the Twin Deities of Wind and Thunder." The half-gods then turned their attention to the Chairman of Tianfa. Fu Qingxuan furrowed her brows, "Who participated in the Mage King's final battle?" The Chairman of Tianfa replied calmly: "The Twin Deities of Wind and Thunder, the Lord of the Stars, the Goddess of Beauty, the Void, Lingtuo, the two presidents of the Energy Council, and the Fearful Heavenly King from the Commander's Academy." "The Twin Deities of Wind and Thunder wish to prevent the Mage King's further growth and thus have allied with the Lord of the Stars. The Void and the Goddess of Beauty are supporting the Mage King through the Fearful Heavenly King." As for Lingtuo and the two presidents of the Energy Council, it goes without saying—they are The President chuckled, "At that time, the Demon King possessed a fragment of the Original Yin and a fragment of the Original Yang. If you didn't harm him, the Lingtuo faction would never gather the complete Original Yin essence—why then were the Order so passively caught off guard?" The voice of the Star Sovereign echoed in all directions, "As long as the Original Yin remains unaligned, the Original Yang realm cannot be activated. Both the Demon King and Lingtuo are fallen night-wanderers. Integrating their resources makes it equally futile to eliminate either one." The President rose slowly, "I once asked you then whether you would join me in confronting Lingtuo—yet you declined. You believed that eliminating the Demon King was more important than defeating Lingtuo. Yet the truth is, the Demon King's pollution can be purified by the Original Yang essence—he is capable of recovery. In short, you are acting out of self-interest: Lingtuo gains the Original Yin essence, and you remain in contention for the throne of the Sovereign of the Sun. But the Demon King holds a fragment of the Original Yang. As long as he remains alive, you will never succeed in obtaining the Original Yang." "The Master of the Stars, your personal ambitions have brought the Lawful faction to this pass, yet it's *my* turn to pay the price?" The half-gods exchanged silent glances—now it made sense why the Void had so persistently nurtured its own Sun Master, and why it had so firmly resisted surrendering the Compass fragments. There had been longstanding tensions between them. The figure of radiant light slowly spoke: "To the Void, right and wrong matter little; heroes adapt to the circumstances. If we insist on judging right from wrong, consider that when Master Zhang persuaded the Wind and Thunder deities to attack Lingtuo and seize a piece of the Taiyin fragment, that very action also led to the outcome we see today." "Nonsense!" the Chairman snapped coldly. "Twenty years ago, when the old Marshal fell, I suffered a severe blow—my resources depleted. At that time, launching the Sun's campaign, the Lawful faction might not have succeeded. Master Zhang secured twenty years of crucial time for the Lawful faction. Without those twenty years, how could the Five Elements Alliance have formed? How could the Secret Art of the Five Elements have even been developed?" Before the half-gods could respond, the Chairman shifted The president simply couldn't stand your pretentious demeanor. "As a Lawful Half-Deity, I will prioritize the greater good. Three days from now, I will hand you the fragments of the Compass of Light. In return, you shall bring me a rule-based artifact." With that, he turned and walked away, vanishing into the realm. Sektyra has noticed me, though only with a warning. If she tells Cupid about this, that dead child will surely find an opportunity to retaliate. Hmph, the bigger picture matters, the bigger picture matters... Zhang Yuanqing murmured, tucking the blanket over her and cradling Heraxini to sleep. "I'll go back to my room and freshen up..." She stepped barefoot, joyfully opening the door and leaving. Zhang Yuanqing dressed himself, tied on his leg-style shoes, and went to the wooden tub, scooping a ladleful of water to wash his face and brush his teeth. Ten minutes later, he left the room, heading toward the canteen to collect breakfast for the slaves. As he stepped out of the dome building, he spotted a guard approaching. "Ammini, Lord Cupid is looking for you," the guard said, his expression calm and neutral. Another time, this stubborn youngster has found me? Zhang Yuanqing gritted his teeth. "What does he want?" "Mind your tone," the guard coldly advised, saying, "You'll find out once you get there." Zhang Yuanqing hadn't even managed to take a bite of his bread, so he hurried off to the western garden, where, amidst the lush green grass, he saw Cupid—round, charming, and as graceful as a fairy. "Oh, my dear Ammini, you've finally arrived!" Cupid fluttered his snowy wings and flew toward him, circling him. "The followers of the Light God have launched an attack Zhang Yuanqing bowed respectfully and said, "Lord Cupid, what would you like me to do?" Lord Cupid smiled brightly and said, "Build ten trebuchets and deliver them to me by tomorrow." Ten trebuchets in just one day? Zhang Yuanqing was stunned. How could that be possible? Trebuchets were technical machinery requiring both materials and skilled labor. Paphos Island simply didn't have the resources or infrastructure to build ten trebuchets in a single day—no matter how many undead corpses and spirit servants I had at my disposal. This kind of work demanded truly skilled craftsmen. "No, Lord Cupid, this is a task befitting the gods, and I am merely a servant," Zhang Yuanqing bowed again. The young boy hung suspended in the air, his face pressed close to Zhang Yuanqing’s, nearly nose to nose, "Then are you ready to fall in love with the mother goat?" Another mother goat? You're not giving me a chance—you're going to make me fall in love with the mother goat! Zhang Yuanqing’s brows subtly furrowed. Something felt off. This entire scenario didn’t feel right. So far, in the war between the God of Light and the Goddess of Beauty, his role has been that of a mere craftsman—neither on the battlefield nor involved in strategy, with a very low level of participation. Moreover, for three full days, he has felt no threat from the God of Light, instead being constantly targeted and undermined by Cupid, his own ally. The pressure has been steadily intensifying, until today, when he's been assigned a task that seems utterly impossible. An S-rank dungeon—besides doing manual labor, he has only his younger sister left. This isn't an S-rank dungeon at all; this is clearly heaven. Watching Cupid's small bow, Zhang Yuanqing, flexible and composed, replied, "Cupid, your will is my will. I will complete the task." He would first make do with the situation and then find a way to resolve it. Cupid's eyes flashed a moment of surprise, quickly giving way to satisfaction as his plan succeeded, "Your obedience pleases me. But if… Suddenly, the towering clock tower began to ring with a resonant chime, spreading across the entire island of Paphos. Cupid's face changed instantly, disregarding him, and immediately flew toward the bell tower. Zhang Yuanqing, meanwhile, used a magical illusion to conceal the surrounding guards and then entered the night journey, rising on the wind and gazing at the shimmering sea surface. Sky and sea merged into one, with birds soaring freely—nothing out of the ordinary. Not quite. Something was amiss in the sky. Zhang Yuanqing realized it, turning his gaze to the blue heavens, where several dark spots were approaching the island of Paphos at high speed. With focused concentration, he strained his vision to its utmost, and finally made out thirteen warships—identical to those seen yesterday—except that today's ships had no sails, and on either side, wooden wing structures had been added to maintain balance. Could it be that the sea assault had failed, and they were now relying on airships? Zhang Yuanqing was astonished. If the followers of the Light God had airships, they would have used them yesterday—likely having modified them overnight—perhaps by integrating wind-magic devices into the ships, or by inscribing spells. This level of engineering skill was truly impressive for this era. The island of Paphos had no air defense or deterrent weapons, and the rulers were too hesitant to approach alone, watching helplessly as thirteen ships drew near. Upon nearing the island, the fleet immediately reduced speed, and from either side of the hull, warriors emerged—dressed in seamless white garments, each adorned with golden ornaments on their foreheads. The warriors drew their bows toward the castle below, and instantly, arrows rained down. "Boom... boom... boom..." The arrows, glowing faintly golden, struck the castle like hand grenades, exploding upon impact and creating shallow craters in the ground, walls, and gardens. Several slaves were inadvertently hit by the blasts, their limbs separated and killed instantly. The slaves scattered in panic, while the guards drew their bows and fired upward in an attempt to counterattack. Yet, the ships floated tens of meters above the ground, and their hulls served as shields, rendering the arrows ineffective against the lower defenses. At this moment, Menia—dashing out of the castle, wielding a sword and shield with graceful determination—planted her long sword before her, her tone solemn: "This battlefield rule: no flight, no hovering!" A bronze glow radiated from the sword's blade. The very next moment, thirteen warships plummeted from the sky, crashing with thunderous noise. Widespread casualties were reported on the decks. Zhang Yuanqing was thrown into the air, losing his flight capability. The castle's defenders seized the opportunity to counterattack, launching volleys of lightning arrows that crackled with thunder and burst with plasma, inflicting significant damage. The slaves also pushed the trebuchets, hurling massive stones. Roaring impacts followed, stones piercing decks and shattering hulls. An elderly man in a golden robe stepped forward, raising a golden staff. The staff emitted a pure golden light, which bathed the wounded—those struck by lightning arrows or stones—causing their injuries to heal rapidly, enabling them to draw their bows and return the attack. Over a hundred warriors in white robes, adorned with golden ornaments on their foreheads, leapt from the ships, which stood several meters high, drawing their bows and wielding swords, charging directly toward the slaves operating the trebuchets. Menia remained in her sword-holding stance, casting ethereal walls of bronze-gold light. Rainstorms of arrows, like meteors, struck the walls, blossoming into radiant clusters of gold light, yet could not shake the solid barrier.