Though Kline had only been in the land forsaken by the gods for less than a week, he had already gained sufficient understanding through the small "sun," knowing that ordinary humans, even saints, must use flames to create light when walking through darkness—otherwise, they would easily fall victim to hidden dangers lurking in the depths or be silently absorbed and vanish without a trace. Yet at this moment, the elderly cleric, without a hide-lamp, moved steadily through the mist, stepping slowly into the church where the dim glow of the lanterns illuminated the interior. If it weren't for the depth and calm of his eyes, devoid of any sign of frenzy, Kline would have immediately concluded that he had encountered a special monster. Indeed, such a composed, ordinary demeanor in the face of profound darkness was so contradictory that any creature with average intelligence would readily deduce that perhaps the one before them was even more terrifying than the special monsters themselves. Before, Klein had only encountered one being who could move through darkness without being affected—Amun, the "Defiler!" As the golden light now touched his face, the tall, elderly man in his deep black clerical robes, slightly bowed at the back, paused and gazed at Klein beside the statue of the magical wolf, his low, resonant voice asking: "Where has the lord of this city gone?" Klein was one of those who, whenever possible, preferred to resolve issues peacefully without engaging in combat. With heightened alertness, he responded calmly: "I've just arrived in this city, and I have no idea where the lord has gone." As soon as he finished speaking, the entire church suddenly dimmed. A thin mist surged in like a tide, flooding in from outside and engulfing the interior. The glow of Klein's lantern could no longer illuminate the windows or the entrance, and beyond, the outside world remained utterly dark—nothing could be seen. In an instant, the church dedicated to the statue of the magical wolf seemed to have been isolated from the ancient city of Noth, its exact location now unknown. Caine's pupils slightly widened as he gazed at the elderly cleric, his hair completely white and his face etched with deep lines, and asked in a steady voice: "Who are you?" It's no wonder it can move through darkness, protected by the "fallen" power... Is the demonic deity still searching for the extraordinary qualities of the "Mysterious Servant"? Kline had to lift his head and meet the gaze of Stiffr, who, though still dressed in the long robe of a divine cleric, now bore four pairs of angelic wings—his high status evident even in the angelic state, yet visibly etched with wrinkles, his hair white, full of contradictions. Kline feigned never having been an adversary of the Aurora Circle, speaking calmly: "That blasphemer has already fled, and I too am in search of Him." Stiffr, the "Angel of the Sacred Word," gazed at Kline for two seconds, then asked in a low tone, "Who are you?" This was not something he could say plainly. Kline sighed and smiled. "I am a lone traveler." As he made this reply, an intense, profound darkness within him surged, sinking downward and merging with the shadow cast by the streetlights. The dark figure then twisted and came to life, stretching into another Germaine Sparrow—Germaine Sparrow with a grim expression and a solitary demeanor. Klein's eyes narrowed slightly, and without hesitation, he extended his right hand toward the side ahead and reached out into the air. By now, if he hadn't already realized that Stifler was exploiting his "response," he could join the Aurora Circle and embrace the faith in the "True Creator." At this moment, he had clearly grasped what a "Word-angel" truly meant. This was clearly a "Devil-Word Angel!"—using the other person's response, extracting certain elements or amplifying ambiguity to produce a spell-like effect! When Caine said he didn't know where the city's owner had gone, Stifler截取ed "I don't know where," trapping Caine himself, isolating him from the outside world; When the Angel revealed his identity, each word elevated His stature and power; When Caine answered who he was, a self of the "lonely traveler" emerged, separated from him. Since his appearance in the ancient city of Noth, Stifler, dressed in a black clerical robe, has carried a strong sense of malice! And as Caine attempted to summon an image from within the historical fissure, the gloomy Germain Spalro seemed to resonate with him, reaching for the same projection—thus, the two counteracted each other. Witnessing the suppression of the "ancient scholar's" abilities, Caine's gaze sharpened, and without hesitation, he opened his mouth to utter a single word in the language of the Giants. Yet the very next second, that word was stolen. Standing nearly four meters tall with a hunched posture, the "Angel of the Word" Stiffr had, at some point, a new head growing out of his left shoulder, still glistening with blood. This head bore a striking resemblance to Stiffr himself, though younger—appearing only in his forties. Around this head, two arms without skin, their flesh blurred and raw, extended, tending to different spirits and wielding the extraordinary ability to steal thoughts and ideas. At the same time, a blood-soaked head emerged from Stiffr's right shoulder, bearing the appearance of a man only in his twenties. Klein's lips twitched slightly, then calmly uttered a giant language word: "Leodro!" That was the true name of the "Lord of Storms!" Klein's thought hadn't been stolen because he had already sequenced the actions he intended to take—each one identical—and the initial disruption had no effect on his adherence to the subsequent steps. It was a valuable lesson he had learned in his struggle against Amun. Of course, should he meet Amun again, Klein doubted this method would remain effective; once Amun was on guard, he was certain the god would come up with something entirely new. As soon as Klein finished speaking, a series of brilliant silver lightning streaks flashed in Stif's eyes. They surged across the entire city of Noth, piercing through the darkness enveloping the cathedral and shattering every trace of fallenness, secrecy, gloom, impurity, and evil. Here, Caine and the grim Gelman Spalro found themselves at the very heart of the thunderstorm, dissolving and vanishing without so much as a sigh. Then, silver-white, writhing, and terrifying electric serpents surged forth, consuming the surrounding area, swallowing the statue of the magical wolf, and engulfing the "Word-angel" Stifver. Amid the deep, resonant thunder, the ancient city of Noth collapsed entirely, reduced to true ruins. Across the dried riverbed, Caine's historical projection rapidly faded, his physical form returning to the real world. Immediately thereafter, Caine performed a series of "flame leaps," distancing himself from the Noth ruins, during which he repeatedly drew out paper figures, snapping them into "angels" with a crisp flick to erase traces. The once-barren plain once again fell into stillness. Moments later, the ruins of the church trembled, Stifver brushed off dust and stones, and slowly rose to his feet. His once-white hair grew sparser, and his deep black clerical robe now tattered and worn. The "Angel of the Word" silently departed from the ancient city of Noth, orienting himself and stepping deeper into the darkness. Half a day later, a figure approached the city's ruins from a different direction—Klein, who had wound his way around a large circuit. He had not yet had the chance to inspect the city of Noth, and now returning, he hoped to uncover clues about the true destination of the original resident. At a greater distance, Klein repeated the process of entering the gray mist, summoning historical projections, retreating into ancient fragments, and then using those projections to summon further ones. After completing his preliminary preparations, he once again stepped into Noth, returning to the same church where he had previously been, in absolute stillness. Along the way, the corpses that had fallen to the ground either turned to ash or remained only as charred remnants, completely losing their once-startling, eerie atmosphere. "The fellow named Stief hasn't died yet... it seems the remaining storm god's power can only wound an angel." Kline paused at the ruins of the church he had just entered, murmuring this with a touch of惋惜 in his mind. Of course, he wasn't particularly hopeful about achieving such a straightforward victory against an angel. As his eyes swept across the scene, he noticed several fragments of the magical wolf statue still standing. Their outer surfaces were deep black, while their interiors were a darker red—unlike any common stone. "The stones that the dark-woolled magical wolf could carve into divine statues were no ordinary ones—they didn't seem to be native to the surrounding area. Perhaps by tracing their origins, I could uncover where the wolf had concealed itself before arriving at Noth's ancient city. As a 'Miracle Master,' even a 'Mysterious Servant,' the dark-woolled wolf undoubtedly excelled at erasing traces; directly pursuing its movements would be difficult. But if I could identify most of the places where it had hidden in the past, I could begin to discern its habits and style. 'Once you know a person's past, you can predict their future!'克莱恩若有所思地向前迈了两步，弯下腰，试图拾起一块雕像碎片。 At that moment, a hand, its surface blackened, suddenly extended and blocked his fingers. In his peripheral vision, he noticed that a corpse, which had turned to charcoal, had somehow risen up and stood there!" The charred corpse held a single-piece crystal spectacles in its other hand and placed them on its left eye. Amon! The left eye... Kline felt a sudden tightening in his heart, followed immediately by strong doubt and suspicion. The next moment, the charred corpse smiled and said, "Sorry, I've worn them on the wrong side." As it spoke, it removed the spectacles and positioned them on its right eye.