A lightning bolt streaked across the deep sky, illuminating the entire city of Silver, but it did not last long, fading swiftly and leaving the world once again in darkness. Upon opening his eyes, Darien Berg immediately sat up and jumped out of bed, heading straight for the door. As he walked, he slowed his pace, his expression clearly showing hesitation. How should he approach the Master about his interest in one of the Master's relics? Should he simply tell the Master that he had chosen an item? No, that wouldn't work. Although, according to the "Temperance" gentleman, the Master had a certain level of understanding for such matters, Darien still felt it was too direct. Darien had always been a reserved youth—rarely asking for anything even when his parents were still alive. He stopped in his tracks, carefully recalling the mannerisms of the "Justice" lady and the "Temperance" gentleman, the members of the Tarot circle known for their eloquence, hoping to find a suitable way of expressing himself by imitating them. After several attempts, Darien gritted his teeth and decided to go with a more straightforward approach. He donned "Thor's Roar," pulled open the door, and stepped onto the street, making his way toward the Twin Towers in the city's northern sector. Along the way, many residents of Silver City stepped out of their homes, smiling, gathering toward the training grounds. This was the season of abundant black-faced grass harvest—the festival of honoring the Creator of the world—and one of the few days in the year when people who had struggled through darkness felt genuinely joyful. Watching children walking with a lively hop, adults wearing black-faced grass amulets and rings, and listening to their conversations and occasional songs, Drik's心情 gradually settled, and his steps grew more resolute. At the circular tower within the Twin Towers, after making arrangements, he met Colin Iliad, the chief of the Six-Body Council, in a room on the tower's summit. The "Sorcerer-Hunter" appeared as usual—his white hair slightly tousled, carelessly maintained, with deeper lines of expression etched across his face, and several older scars, some deep, some twisted, still visible. His eyes, a soft blue, held a profound, weathered depth, as if capable of seeing straight into the soul. After Dariq had finished his bow, he nodded and said, "How is your mastery of the 'Light Cleric' potions?" He meant the spiritual cohesion and proficiency in the corresponding divine arts. Dariq answered calmly, "Still a bit short of perfect." "Good," said Colin Iliad, as if speaking casually. "No need to rush. The rest of the exploration team hasn't quite prepared yet—there's still time for them to catch up. Just like Loviara, who is still gathering and seeking the materials needed for her advancement." Indeed, the Elder Loviara would be joining this expedition to the "Kingdom of the Giants"...was she attempting to open the gate of the half-divine? Dariq paused, unable to conceal his curiosity. "Does Elder Loviara have a follow-up potion recipe?" "This has been a long-standing concern for this 'shepherd' elder, preventing her from achieving semi-divinity for many years." "Yes," Colin responded affirmatively, without elaborating. He then asked, "What is it this time?" Derek felt a slight sense of urgency, though he did not explicitly request anything—his tone remained direct. "Esteemed Chief, I have discovered a relic left behind by the Creator, corresponding to Sequence 4, 'The Unshadowed,' of the 'Sun' path." Colin Iliad, tall and robust, wearing a linen shirt, his gaze sharpened, and his expression shifted—his eyes reflecting a depth of emotion so complex and nuanced that it was difficult to articulate. Derek stood motionless, momentarily forgetting what to say next. In the unspoken silence, the voice of the 'Hunter of Monsters,' Colin, came out slightly subdued: "A relic?" Derek's eyes narrowed, realizing he had inadvertently spoken something truly significant. He had grieved for a long time over the possibility that the Creator had already been devoured, utterly fallen, and never returning—so deeply that he began to believe it was a mere illusion of common sense. Before the Chief’s question and gaze, Deric fell silent, at a loss for how to explain. After hesitating several seconds, he finally managed to open his mouth: "Yes, the relics. "The kings betrayed the Lord…" He unconsciously adopted the title used by the cleric from the town in the afternoon for the angelic kings. Colin watched Deric, simply watching him, his pale blue eyes momentarily seeming to lose focus. This "hunter of monsters" had remained silent for a long while, and only after nearly a minute did he speak calmly: "I understand." His voice, unconsciously, grew a little deeper. He did not ask Deric where the relics of the Creator were found, what they looked like, or what their specific functions were. His gaze regained its depth, shifting from the previous topic and saying, "You have now reached Sequence 5, qualifying you to understand the holy-grade sealings in Silver City. Once you master the art of channeling your spirit and fully grasp divine magic, I will provide you with the relevant materials and guide you to the sites where these sealings are located. If you resonate with a particular holy-grade sealing—reducing its adverse effects through a harmonious alignment—you will be entrusted with its stewardship." By "resonance," he meant that Drik's spirit closely mirrored the high-sequence spirit imprints still preserved within the sealings, enabling him to partially conceal or mitigate their severe negative impacts through subtle deception. — In Silver City, common extraordinary traits and materials are readily available, and everyone is proficient in performance magic. What typically hinders advancement is the difficulty in meeting the requirements of rituals. Sometimes, even without a specific potion recipe, a Sequence 8 character can still advance to Sequence 7, or a Sequence 7 to Sequence 6—provided the prior advancement was achieved through the correct method of consuming the potion and that the effects have been fully absorbed. In such cases, one can then take a risk and attempt to advance directly by ingesting an extraordinary trait, with a reasonable success rate. However, advancing from Sequence 6 to Sequence 5 without ritual support becomes significantly less likely. Thus, in Silver City, Sequence 6 is abundant, while Sequence 5 becomes increasingly rare—making this a particularly esteemed tier. Why did the Chief suddenly bring this up? Does he mean we can exchange the chosen Divine Seal item for a Maker’s relic? I hadn't quite expressed this yet... Hmm, I'll first offer the materials as a sacrifice to the "Fool," and see which one pleases Him. Deric stood there for a few seconds, then nodded seriously. "Yes, Chief." He said no more, and withdrew, preparing to attend the Harvest Festival. After Deric's figure disappeared past the doorway, "The Hunter of Monsters" Colin walked slowly to the window and gazed toward the altar near the training grounds. There, a crowd had gathered, surrounding the Altar of the Creator. Some performed ancient dances to please the deities, while others opened their throats to sing praises to the great being. Their faces bore clear smiles, their eyes filled with hope and anticipation—seeming to believe that, with just a few more years, the Creator would return and all suffering would finally end. This hope had been shattered again and again over the past two or three millennia, yet it rose time and again, sustaining the people's spirits and standing firm against despair and suppression. Colin Iliad stood by the window, intently watching, seriously watching. Bekland, Berkland Street. After returning from the gray mist back into the real world, Caine felt rather heavy-hearted. Rosalind the Great Emperor’s journal revealed the secret of the "audience," making him realize just how dangerous it would be to continue investigating the king—despite being backed by the Church of the Night and protected by the goddess, safety was far from certain. Above all, the goddess was still digesting the uniqueness of the "Death" path, and for a long time, she hadn't been able to manifest her divine presence. He hoped that the Storm Sovereign and the God of Steam and Machinery would be able to step in at the right moments. Regardless, with Madame Arianna, Wil昂赛汀, and Palis Solrath, even facing the King of Angels, they wouldn't necessarily meet a certain death—should they perish, they'd still have a chance to recover his body. The longer they held on, the greater the chances of survival. Caine lightened the pressure with a touch of self-deprecating humor. Previously, above the gray mist, he had already decided the focus of his next investigation: to pursue the "White Saint" Catharina and the current mysterious-sequence witch Trist, while regarding Hwen Lambis, he would only reach out if she didn't proactively contact the "Justice" lady, thus avoiding unforeseen, insurmountable setbacks. On one hand, he waits for the "Judge" to respond, on the other, he tries to locate the "Suffering Commander," using the bloodline connection to pin down the "White Saint." This may not be very promising—after all, the three major churches will surely think of this strategy, and the witch orders won't lack a countermeasure. Next, let Daniz gather items related to the "Suffering Commander." I'll use the gray mist, which shields interference, for divination. Hmm, and while I'm at it, have him check in on Anderson's condition—this isn't urgent; the "Cross Without Darkness" is currently undergoing trials. This personal servant wasn't actually the winner—he was Quonas Colg. The true Enyuni had long since transformed into flesh and blood through the "Ring of Blood," and had been concealed within the stomach of the "Doomed Count." At this moment, the weather in Beckland was seasonally overcast, and the gas lamps enclosed within iron grates along the roadside remained unlit, while only a few lamps flickered sparsely inside the houses. She wore a simple white dress, black leather shoes on her feet, her golden hair loosely pinned, her green eyes earnestly fixed on the road. Behind her, a golden retriever sat steadily on the seat, maintaining its balance regardless of how the bicycle swayed. Noticing the gentleman with slightly gray hair and a refined demeanor approaching ahead, Audrey smiled gently, her expression clear and bright, and greeted with a light, cheerful tone: "Good afternoon, Mr. Tanatès." "Good afternoon, Miss Audry. You seem in a particularly good mood," said Clain, observing her stop the bicycle and use her foot to steady herself. Audrey bit her lip slightly, her smile brightening further: "You're absolutely right. I am indeed feeling quite cheerful—just riding these circles has made all my worries fade away." ps: Double the reach now—please get a monthly pass! Another update coming this evening. ps2: Recommend a new historical espionage novel, *Dian Zhong*, written with great maturity and sincerity: A forensic pathologist, Lin Jiangbo, accidentally time-travels to the Republican era and becomes a military intelligence agent of the Military Affairs Commission. He leveraged his own status to hunt down Japanese spies, support the underground movement, and etched a legendary tale of heroic Chinese men during this turbulent era!