A shared dream of all beings? Kline repeated in his mind the words of Gardeleia, the "Star Above," and gradually grasped the current situation: the night of this perilous sea was weaving the dreams of all living creatures here into one unified tapestry! Creatures currently awake, whose spiritual essences were absent from this dream realm, now lacked essential protection and suffered mysterious, unnameable attacks. As for why these attacks resulted in disappearance rather than immediate death—Kline had never personally witnessed such an occurrence and thus could not fathom the reason. In the span of a thought, he turned his gaze away from Gardeleia and once again fixed it on the magnificent city across the cliff, wondering curiously: "If this world is truly composed of the interconnected dreams of individual beings, then to whom does this city belong—whose dream is it?" He gazed at it for several seconds, then asked, "What is its name?" What name could such a city, only possible in myth, possibly bear? "Star above the General," Cadellia gazed fixedly ahead, speaking in a dreamlike tone: "I don't know... every time I enter this dream here, I have the chance to see it, yet I can never get close." She added, this was reminiscent of Fosac's Dusk Colossus. "She should have her own thoughts, but she's never shared them with me." Who? The "Mysterious Queen"? The Dusk Colossus was the seat of the War God's Church... Kline glanced around, carefully saying: "I'd like to take a walk around." He believed that the "Future" would remain in this region for far more than just a few days, and that he would surely encounter more nights, more times entering this dream world. Therefore, to prevent unforeseen events and gather information, some exploration was essential. And exploration, without a doubt, required a companion. Cadellia remained seated with her knees drawn up, her tone still hazy: "I have no interest." "...This is not something a mature pirate admiral should say—it could have been more gentle," the Lady of the Hidden Ones remarked. Now you sound like a capricious young girl. Kline paused, almost questioning whether he had heard correctly. This contrasted somewhat with his mental image of the "Star Admiral." He recalled that Germain Spaulo himself was known to be willing to do volunteer work without complaint, and thus found himself reassured. He quickly formed a hypothesis: The Lady Gardeleia was not fully awake in her dreams—aware that she was dreaming, yet unable to effectively control her thoughts and emotions. That meant she naturally expressed feelings and traits she had long suppressed in her daily life. It was no wonder she could never manage to approach that miraculous city across the way—she simply lacked the sense of exploration. Kline thought for a moment, then deliberately试探ly asked, "Perhaps we might discover something here." "No." "Cadrya answered without hesitation, yet did not shake her head," I'll be right here, waiting!" Indeed, half-asleep—Claire judged this from the tone and the way she responded. He no longer wasted time; he turned and leapt down from the great stone. Plink! Claire landed on the ground, instinctively turning to look back: "Star Above," Cadrya remained seated with her knees drawn up, no one else in sight. The setting sun of the city across the way cast a stillness upon her, stretching her shadow long and interweaving it with the yellowed shadows of the dry trees. A gentle breeze stirred, causing the dark silhouette to sway slightly, yet Cadrya remained motionless, steadfastly waiting for something. At this point, a "psychologist" would be needed to interpret the emotional undercurrents of the dream—this had nothing to do with the insights gained through divination. Claire gave a slight shrug, then scanned the surroundings, beginning to chart her course. He found monasteries stretching out in black buildings to his left, right, and behind, separated from the cliff by tall, imposing walls—no matter which direction he wished to explore, he could only bypass them by leaping directly off the cliff. With no other option, Caine simply approached the great, dark gateway of the monastery. The gate stood nearly ten meters high, appearing too grand for human use. After studying it for several seconds, Caine took a deep breath, extended his hands, and pressed them against either side of the doorframe. Immediately, a creaking sound echoed—the gate's weight far exceeded Caine's expectations. His muscles bulged in succession, his face flushed crimson, yet he could only gently shake it, unable to push it open. Fortunately, this was a dream; as long as he believed logically, his strength would grow, without needing to fully awaken the "thirsty hunger"... Caine exhaled the breath he had been holding, and as he did, the gloves on his left hand turned pale. A faint green shimmer passed through him, and suddenly, he gained the strength of a the living corpse—his arms thickened instantly, and his legs swelled dramatically. Thud! A heavy grinding sound echoed as the gate slowly opened, revealing the scene within. Two dim towers and a series of black buildings were connected by walkways, forming a broad stone plaza. The plaza was dotted with craters, spears of immense size planted in the ground, and several smoldering fire pits, as though it had recently been attacked. Caine stepped through the archway into the plaza, and it was no surprise—yet still unexpected—to see Frank Lee, Nina, Otto Lof, and others already there. Were these their dreams? Not quite. Or perhaps each person's dream remained confined to their own world, and only randomly materialized at some point in this one? Caine wondered, uncertain. Frank Lee was closest to him, holding a spade to clear stones, with white bread, toast, grilled fish, and other food items that had fallen to the ground beside him. Was he planning to use these as nutrients to grow something? He was planting even in his dreams... Caine stepped closer and casually asked, "What are you doing?" Frank's movements never ceased, yet a smile played on his face. "I've cultivated some small things. They need to rest in the soil for a while before they grow and reproduce." "What good will they do?" Caine asked, both curious and concerned. Frank beamed. "They're a hybrid bacteria that enables bulls to produce milk. This means we'll harvest more milk and serve better milk to more people." Let the bulls rest... Caine's face twitched slightly. "Will it work?" "The results should be solid, though I'm worried they might not reproduce successfully." Frank frowned. May the god of death always favor them... Caine whispered, then stepped past Frank Li and headed toward the entrance of the black building across the square. On the way, he passed by Nina, who was sitting beside a fallen stone pillar, drinking heartily, and Captain Otolov. "Have you ever thought, as you grow older, about leaving the pirate crew, finding a man to marry, and settling down somewhere? I daresay no one would want to spend a lifetime adrift at sea," Otolov said, removing his soft peaked cap to reveal slightly gray hair. His eyes and tone conveyed to Klein that his unspoken message was: if he wished, perhaps he might consider him. "Mr. Captain, you're old enough to be Nina's father—don't you think you should consider your own health?" Klein, passing by, couldn't help but remark. Nina took a long swallow of wine and glanced in a certain direction. "No," she replied, "that's not the life I had in mind." Before joining you, I tried settling on the eastern coast of Fossac, giving up piracy altogether. But I simply couldn't bear that monotonous life—every day spent hauling timber and moving supplies, required to stay at home each evening, unable to go to taverns or hunt in the countryside, with absolutely no change at all. I also had to endure constant criticism and the nagging complaints of those unpleasant people, so much so that even thinking about giving them a good beating made me fear the police! "Truly a female pirate... everyone wants different things, after all." Caine offered a balanced assessment, not necessarily disagreeing with Nina's perspective. "I don't discredit her choices. But if she frequently resorts to violence, plundering, and setting fires, I wouldn't mind using her head as payment the next time we meet." Caine turned his gaze and made his way toward the entrance of what appeared to be a black building and towers. Subconsciously, he glanced toward the corner, where the shadows seemed ordinary—yet carried a distinct, unusual sensation. "The One Without Blood, His Dower? Even in dreams, does he retreat into shadows? Based on my limited psychological knowledge, this is a striking sign of insecurity." Caine pushed open the entrance gate, nearly ten meters tall. With a creaking sound, his gaze suddenly froze. Behind the main entrance lay a vast hall, supported by two rows of sturdy stone pillars. The hall was dark, with no candlelight. As the main door opened, light poured in, making the space clear and defined. Cain noticed vibrant murals on the walls and the ceiling, dominated by gold hues, arranged closely together with no gaps, creating a sense of grandeur and sanctity. Thud! Thud! Thud! A figure stood facing away from Cain, wielding an axe to split a long, massive log, seemingly engaged in some task. The figure wore a white shirt and a dark horseman's jacket—unlike any of the pirates aboard the ship. Was this someone from the surrounding region? Or perhaps the mysterious eyes that had been watching the deck, fixed upon him? Cain's mood grew somber. He slowed his pace, remained alert, and approached cautiously, positioning himself to the side to get a clear view of the figure. It was a young man—his short golden hair parted in a three-to-seven ratio, with focused, earnest green eyes. "What are you doing?" Cain asked carefully. "And where exactly are we?" He instinctively believed the other person was not the owner of those mysterious eyes. The young man raised his hand to his earlobe, without turning to say: "What do you want? My boat has already sunk—I'm busy building canoes and don't have time to talk to you." ...Klein thought for a moment and then asked again: "Who are you?" "Who am I? I'm the unfortunate Anderson. Since I first saw that mural, I've been plagued by misfortune ever since." The young man pointed in a direction. Following his gesture, Klein spotted a mural. On it, a sea was blazing with flames, splitting in the middle to reveal a path. Along this path, a long procession moved—some bowed in devotion, others kneeling on the ground—each heading toward the depths of the sea. At the forefront stood a tall, slender man with silver hair, gentle features, eyes closed, and a series of wings layered behind him. This...Klein's pupils suddenly contracted. He knew the leader depicted in the mural! That was the "Fate Angel" showcased by the young "Sun"! That was the "Devourer," Uluras!