"Error"... "bug"... Is that really the essence of the 'Thief's Path'? While克莱恩 felt a sudden clarity, he also confirmed one thing: the ancient sun god, the creator of the Silver City, Amun's father, truly originated from Earth. The word Amun just now spoke was standard English! Comrade, your two children have really been giving me a run for my money—both of them are just like Bernard. While mentally muttering this under his breath,克莱恩 asked with genuine curiosity: "Are you planning to exploit the flaw in this dream world?" 克莱恩 managed to restrain himself, refraining from using the word "bug," so as not to draw Amun's suspicion through his otherwise natural accent—something that might otherwise expose his hidden strength. Facing an angelic king who could steal his very thoughts and deeply parasitize him, his own reserves of strength were already scarce. Every card he held had to be carefully played, possibly yielding unexpected results at any moment. At that point, Amun had already stepped outside the black monastery. He simply held his hand in his pocket, making no motion at all, and yet the heavy gate opened on its own, as if welcoming a distinguished guest. "You might think of it that way, but in reality, it's more complex." Amun didn't at all project the dignity of a渎神者, responding to Caine's question with calm ease. "This dream world itself contains no errors—or flaws. It's simply that, due to conflicting residual divine powers, certain areas appear more disordered. And I can exploit this disorder to create a flaw." As the grand entrance gate prepared for the giants fully unfolded, Amun gently pressed the single-lens glasses he wore, then stepped forward through the hall, moving deeper into the interior. Throughout this, He smiled and offered further explanation: "You should be well aware that this monastery is composed of individual dreams stitched together." "Yes," Caine thought for a moment, adding, "dreams from various beings of the god-war ruins. Or perhaps, remnants of older dreams." At that moment, a single angel was walking down a winding staircase of black stone, golden twilight filtering through the stained glass above, casting a sacred, fiery glow. Amun touched the human skull reliefs carved along the handrail and smiled, appreciating everything around him: "Normally, wherever you enter this dream world, you wake up there as well—no matter whether you're immersed in the dreams of other beings in distant seas." Cayne couldn't nod, could only express his agreement with words: "Yes." "Once I create a breach, I can enter another dream and awaken at the corresponding location. Clearly, this monastery is much smaller than the ruined ocean outside, with a more compact structure. Perhaps in just a few minutes, we'll reach our destination." Amun's tone carried a touch of delight. To him, creating and utilizing such breaches seemed inherently joyful. …That…Amun could swiftly traverse the divine war ruins using such a method—without even wasting a week or two, let alone just a few hours—was truly remarkable. Indeed, no wonder he is the King of Angels, the "Disbeliever" of the Fourth Age. Klein’s fleeting hope, just sparked moments earlier, vanished instantly. He didn’t know whether Amun had deliberately omitted this information, savoring the process of watching his hopes rise only to be repeatedly dashed, or whether he simply didn’t care about such details, and could only manage to suppress his growing frustration: “Are you going to sustain the key dream within this illusory world?” He recalled that the “Mysterious Queen” Bernadette herself had hesitated to enter the black wooden door deep within the monastery. “It’s not me—it’s us,” Amun replied with a smile. As if suddenly remembering something, he lifted his hand to adjust his single-lens glasses, then asked with genuine interest: “Why did you place a single-lens glasses on the secret figure? It means I didn’t have to prepare one myself.” “….” Kline felt awkward for a moment, then thought again before deciding to answer honestly, “Not long ago, to help digest the ‘Witch-Physician’s’ potion, I deliberately wore these single-lens spectacles in front of the ‘Red Angel’ spirit.” Suddenly, Amun paused mid-step down the stairs, glanced at Kline, and slowly smiled, saying, “That’s quite thoughtful.” Amun then mused, “Medici hasn’t quite passed away yet. Next time I meet him, I’ll transform into your current state—wearing these single-lens spectacles before him.” ……How pitiful is Lord Solon Einhorn Medici… A complete Angel King, and yet, such a dull thing to do? Is this what the God of Jokes is all about? Kline was deeply moved, finding himself at a loss for words. Amun touched the single-lens spectacles carved from crystal and then asked, “Did you wear them on your left eye?” "How do you know?" Caine was startled, thinking that Amun must have pulled the scene out of the fog of history. "How do I know?" Amun smiled. "There are two possibilities. First, given your lower rank, you're clearly no match for the Medici—fearful that you might appear too authentic, you'd naturally suffer a fatal, unconscious attack. That's how I deduced it. Second, if you're planning to imitate me and have executed the imitation correctly, then perhaps I could sense this through the ripples of fate. Since I haven't detected it, it must mean the position of your single eyeglass is slightly off. Guess which one it is." "...I'll choose the most dangerous possibility—whether it's true or not. That way, in future situations, I'll be more careful, more cautious... Of course, first, there must be a future. Before, Amun had been gentle, unpressing, and even Klein had unconsciously relaxed his guard, thinking of him as a kind, approachable Angel King. Now, however, he's suddenly alert, realizing this is precisely the hallmark of a master manipulator!" "Second possibility," Klein said, offering his answer. Amun didn't respond to whether he had guessed correctly. Instead, he walked down the stairs to the lower level of the monastery and stopped in front of a black wooden door adorned with strange patterns. "I've been here before," Klein said, stepping forward to extract more hidden history from Amun. "Once this door is fully opened, the power within will shatter the entire dream world." Amon grasped the handle, his lean face expressionless as he turned it while speaking. "This is my father's final dream, corresponding to the site where He fell." The ancient sun god and the great Emperor Roscel were both protagonists of their age, yet both ultimately faded from the stage, with tragic endings... Roscel still possessed a means of resurrection—would the once-mighty "Creator" have something similar in place? What of Salsir, the "Dark Angel"? Or the "True Creator"? As Klein's thoughts raced, Amen opened the black wooden door adorned with strange patterns. Inside lay a vast sea, bathed in blinding sunlight, its waves shimmering with thick,浓郁 golden hues. Previously, Klein had failed to understand the significance of these golden streaks; now, he had a preliminary idea: that golden hue was the blood of the ancient sun god. In his final moments, weakened by the power of "Night," he had fallen into a dream, where he saw himself shattering into fragments, his blood staining the sea. Clang! As the black wooden door opened, an overwhelming aura poured forth—so intense it was unimaginable—causing the entire monastery to visibly tremble, as if struck by an earthquake powerful enough to shatter the world itself. Amidst the falling dust and collapsed stone bricks, Amun and Caine stepped through the door into a vast ocean of gold. Immediately, Caine felt his spirit melting, his consciousness evaporating; within seconds, he would become nourishment for this dreamworld. At that moment, a brilliant, pure white light erupted from the single crystal lenses of Amun’s spectacles, shattering the dream realm instantly. He returned the stolen day to the divine battlefield ruins, transforming the site from night to day in an instant! Meanwhile, both Amun and Caine’s forms grew slightly translucent, then materialized directly into the sky above a golden-hued ocean. Here, the temperature exceeded Caine’s expectations, yet it was far less perilous than in the dreamworld. Alternatively, the ocean in the core region of the divine war ruins has been divided into safe zones due to conflicts among various divine forces, and as long as one doesn't venture blindly, significant issues can be avoided. The very next moment, Amun's single-lens spectacles absorbed all the surrounding light, making him exceptionally bright. Daylight had been stolen away, and night fell once again. After landing on an island within a safe zone, Amun and Caine reentered the dream world. This time, they appeared at the black wooden door adorned with strange patterns. Amun adjusted his single-lens spectacles worn on his right eye and gently pulled his left hand, subtly shortening the distance between this location and the monastery's main gate. Together, Amun and Caine stepped forward, leaving the monastery and reaching the cliff's edge, directly facing the "Kingdom of the Giants" projection frozen in twilight. Caine had expected Amun to proceed according to protocol and recite the appropriate title, but instead, Amun simply raised his right hand and snapped his fingers once. The sea of clouds separating the two mountain peaks suddenly boiled, parting swiftly to either side and revealing a dark, bottomless fissure. The projection of the "King's Hall" on the opposite side instantly absorbed all the golden hues of dusk, channeling them forward to fill the deep chasm. Thus, between the two peaks, within the ethereal cloud sea, a path of radiant orange light emerged. "Let's go," Amun murmured, chuckling, and leapt forward over the cliff, landing gracefully into the channel formed by the dusk. Cain could not resist and followed suit, leaping down after him.