What's going on? Daniz couldn't believe what he was seeing. It didn't overwhelm him—it felt strangely eerie, like stepping into a bucket full of ice after being drunk, a sharp, bone-chilling cold seeping from his feet all the way up to his head. What had happened? How had things become so strange? Daniz took a deep breath and forced himself to turn his head, chasing after Germán Sparo's retreating figure. He noticed the adventurous man was walking faster and faster, and now he had to hurry in small, quick steps just to keep up. Crossing streets and winding alleys, Daniz suddenly saw a greenish shadow fall from a tree. *Plunk!* It landed with scales shimmering, its smooth body wriggling, its triangular head crowned with a long, bright red core—clearly a long, venomous snake! Dogshit! How could there be a snake around this time of year, in such weather? Daniz wasn't afraid of snakes—he'd even cooked and eaten snake meat before—but this unusual sight was what unsettled him. Skirting past the venomous serpent that had been draining his funds, Daniz instinctively glanced left and right, and noticed in the broken wall corners of the drainage ditches, within the rusted inner surfaces of the water pipes, pairs of cold, upright, differently colored eyes gazing outward. Daniz instinctively shivered, as though his scalp had been pricked by a dense array of fine needles. He dared neither to stay nor to leave, but quickened his pace, pressing closely behind Germaine Sparrow. As he entered the "Blue Wind" inn and ascended the wooden stairs, he couldn't help but lift his gaze, eager to ask a question. Suddenly, a tightness seized his chest, and his breath stalled momentarily. In that instant, he felt as though he had submerged into the deep sea, being compressed from all sides by a heavy current. Rustle! Gently, faintly, Daniz heard the sound of the tide rushing forward, and saw shimmering, layered ripples spreading around Germain Spalro, as though an endless, deep-blue ocean had been formed, boundless and unending. Within that ocean, a towering, vivid blue figure rose like a spire, supporting everything. This... Daniz's right foot hung suspended in midair, unable to make contact with the ground. He wasn't unfamiliar with this sensation. During the last Pirate Congress, "King of the Five Seas," Nastor, had been even more majestic and imposing—so overwhelming that nearly all pirates could barely raise their heads, and only officers of the highest rank could manage to stand against him. Daniz knew clearly that this was not simply Germain Spalro's own presence. If Germain Spalro were at the level of a half-divine, half-human being, then during the hunt for "Steel" Mavith, there would have been no need to summon the "Enforcer of Reckoning" at all! The ocean... the tides... these two terms flashed swiftly through Daniz's mind, then linked naturally to the Rebellions' fundamental belief in the sea deity, Cavitua. Could it be—that when Germain Sparo touched the bone sword earlier, some unknown factor had inflicted upon him the curse of Cavitua? Was the condition of the deceased devotee, completely devoid of moisture, one of the prerequisites for the curse to take effect? And had the coachman knelt and pressed his forehead to the ground, bowing in reverence, simply because he had sensed the presence of the sea deity? "Phew... Germaine Sparo is probably going to die right here. Should I flee a bit farther, out of the way, just to avoid being caught in the crossfire? At most, at most, I'll come back later to tend to his remains... Maybe there's still hope. I'll ask Captain Laine about the 'Spirit Summoning Rite'—she knows so many odd, strange rituals, surely she can find a solution. No, Lord, the condition for the 'Spirit Summoning Rite' is within 500 nautical miles; they'll have to sail for at least one and a half days before reaching that range..." Suddenly, he stepped backward four paces, each step accompanied by a chant. A series of frantic, sharp murmurs rushed into his ears, his ethereal form rising upward, merging seamlessly into the gray mist. In silence, he heard a piercing, agonizing cry—so intense and unbearable that it could not be described in words. Klein appeared within the ancient palace, seated at the very head of the weathered long table. Beneath the still, gray mist, a vivid, immense sea serpent emerged, shimmering in a deep, celestial blue. It lay within an ancient, dimly lit ruin, coiled around a half-collapsed pillar, its monstrous head raised, its massive mouth gushing with blood, revealing rows of curved, serrated fangs longer than a human forearm. Blood pooled in layers on the fangs, and a steady flow of viscous fluid dripped down. The sea serpent thrashed wildly with its tail, sending out terrifying waves and creating dramatic ripples that shook the entire ruin, as if it might collapse at any moment. The scene shattered and faded swiftly, no matter how desperately the colossal sea serpent struggled—it could not reverse the process, only emitting prolonged, painful cries as it dissolved into scattered glimmers, vanishing into the gray mist. Kaine sat in the high-backed chair belonging to "The Fool," silently observing everything, making no further movements for a long time. The gray mist spread quietly, as if the scene here had remained unchanged since time immemorial. After several dozen seconds, Kaine leaned back against the chair's backrest, exhaled softly, and uttered the name: "Cavitua, the Sea God..." Upon touching the bone sword, he had sensed something unusual, and during his conversation with "The Bald" Karat, he had keenly noticed a subtle, faint yet profoundly potent cold, malevolent force that had seeped into his body at some point, slowly contaminating his soul. Kaine acted decisively, turning and walking away immediately, only then realizing that this malevolent force was beginning to connect with its surroundings, growing stronger, gradually linking itself to an unknown source. Thus, while simultaneously struggling against the encroaching force, he maintained control, avoiding interaction with those around him. Klein believed that as long as he responded to anomalies along the way, the erosion would intensify and might even become irreversible. Originally, he had intended to find a restroom nearby, using the gray mist's shielding and isolation to dissolve the strange, cold energy. However, after careful consideration, he decided to wait and distance himself from that area, as there were numerous followers of the "God of the Sea," and an unforeseen incident was likely. During this process, Klein also observed another point: if he preemptively "expelled" the influence, a portion of the power projected by the sea deity, Cavi Tuwa, would remain embedded within his flesh, with unpredictable consequences. He had to patiently wait for the right moment, for the cold, eerie force to fully permeate his spirit, so that he could then carry out a decisive purification. Reflecting on the entire matter, Caine lightly tapped the edge of the table, murmuring softly: "Not that strong at all..." The dignity of the "Sea God" was far lower than he had anticipated! He had originally planned to use the same approach he employed to host Amun's duplicate—countering the "Sea God" Kavithova's projection, which was attempting to erode his soul and claim his body. Yet, before even integrating into the "Black Emperor" card or launching his paper angels, the opponent was simply dispersed by the gray mist, leaving no trace behind. From this, Caine concluded that the "Sea God" Kavithova held a lower dignity than the "Defiler" Amun—though Amun might be more adept at infiltration, at that moment he was only a duplicate. Was it the "Storm Sovereign" who struck him down, causing a drop in dignity, or was Kavithova inherently below the rank of an angel, merely a powerful entity capable of responding to the semi-divine petitions within a certain range? Klein hesitated, recalling, and found that the condition of Kavitova, the Sea God, was quite abnormal: "The very foundation of this spirit appears remarkably fragile, as if it might collapse or dissolve at any moment... Moreover, there is a sense of fusion between it and the ruins it inhabits—precisely because of this, did it manage to evade the encirclement by the Storm Church in the beginning?" Klein leaned back against the chair, forming a faint conjecture: "Today's events weren't accidental—they stemmed from the archaeologist Laticia taking away a significant artifact from the long-forgotten temple, which severely worsened the condition of the 'Sea God' Cawitua, now struggling to sustain its existence in the long term. The deity had instructed its devotees to recover the artifact while simultaneously preparing for its own survival through embodiment. That bone sword, likely originating from its semi-divine nature, carried a subtle force that, when directed at a suitable target, would penetrate the recipient's body, corrupt their soul, establish a connection, and gradually transfer its own essence before its own spiritual presence ultimately faded. However, it clearly lacked proficiency in this area. It wasn't like the liquid mercury serpent, capable of self-renewal and reincarnation, nor like the 'Sinner' Amun, who could inhabit another soul. Should it fully occupy this body, it would inevitably cause the flesh to collapse completely, resulting in a terrifying monster." Following this logic, the already critically declining Cawitua is bound to have many more wild moves ahead. Klein furrowed his brow slightly, then promptly plunged into the gray mist, returning to the real world. He released the lock, opened the door, and stepped into the living room, startling Daniz, who had been pacing back and forth. Daniz studied him carefully, speaking cautiously and with guarded concern: "Are you all right?" Klein maintained the persona of Germaine Spalro, responding calmly: "Resolved." Resolved? Daniz looked at him from head to toe, glanced again at the bedroom, and began to doubt whether his earlier sensations had been mere illusions—was there truly any curse of the Sea God at all? What had he done in the bedroom? Had it only taken a minute or two to lift the curse of the Sea God? Honestly, this man had quite a secret. Daniz stepped back, clearing a path. Beside the table cluttered with various items, the bald man Karat, seated in a metal wheelchair, expressed his regret to the tattooed man Edmundton: "It's truly a pity." "Just a little short— he reached out, but didn't pick it up," Edmundton sighed in agreement. Karat gazed at the slightly bent holy sword, his passion flowing in fervent words: "When an outsider lifts this sacred sword, the gods shall reappear upon the earth." Edmundton then knelt down, as though offering a confession to the divine. Time passed slowly, and suddenly, Karat and Edmundton heard two sharp cries. They looked up to find two of their companions falling straight to the ground, their skin now as dry and weathered as ancient rock, stripped of all moisture. Karat and Edmundton exchanged a glance, sensing an unusual atmosphere. Both rose to their feet and turned toward the table. The white holy sword cracked with a sharp sound and shattered into countless fragments.