This wasn't Klein's first experience traveling through the spirit world.
But this time it undoubtedly left the deepest impression on him.
The disordered and abstract symbols overlap with the details of reality. People who are intoxicated by war and spirits driven by instinct seem to become the same concept. Their evil, their hatred, and their obsessions are like the hottest branding iron, burning countless ugly and deep marks in the unconscious illusory ocean.
The aura of "demons" twisted the avengers fighting for freedom, and the dark flames scorched the innocent.
In the darkness, whether in a few seconds or in a long journey measured in years, Klein saw tentacles, like those of giant beasts, emerge from the seabed, their deep blue claws gripping the throat of Blue Mountain Island, about to crush this home made of earth and stone into dust.
As the veil of shadows identified the believer's soul, the protection slowly descended, and Klein was finally able to regain the sense of touch in his limbs and move his body.
He first glanced around to confirm that it was the long underground stone passage of the archipelago branch before speaking with a hint of doubt.
What went wrong?
Another Tristan approached from another direction. The "demon" puppet that had been carrying Klein through the spirit world reverted to its original form the moment its true form appeared.
He collapsed into sticky mud, merging into the omnipresent shadows, whether assimilated into pure energy by the branch's defense mechanisms or transferred elsewhere, it is unknown.
"We've been scammed."
Tristan's voice remained indifferent. This Quaternary nobleman adhered to the doctrine of elegance and rarely showed his true emotions on his face.
But unusually, he and his inseparable "fiancée" seemed to have temporarily separated.
"The Middle Sonia Fleet of Rune is heading towards Rosde at full speed. They had already joined up with the Storm Church reinforcements from Passu Island when they left Oravi."
"Although the 'Disease Lieutenant General' and the 'Star Admiral' suddenly visited the port, expressing their willingness to join the battle as allies, it was of little use."
"The sea is, after all, the domain of storms, and the wind and sea's allies have the upper hand. In less than two hours, we will face more enemies than we do now. It could be two full fleets, the recently powerful ironclad fleet, or even multiple demigods."
Tristan smiled, appearing extremely lazy.
Who knows?
"Anyway, I don't think they have the ability to summon angels when the war is at its most intense."
"This group of heretics has always been like this, always choosing the safest plan and never learning to take risks and gamble. Although people always think that gambling and taking risks are bad things, I, we have gotten to where we are today by gambling and taking risks time and time again."
Klein could not agree with Tristan's sarcastic remarks, which were made with a mixture of paranoia and seriousness.
He hadn't expected Tristan to so readily allow the "Star Admiral" and "Disease Lieutenant General," whose motives were unclear, to join the battle. But he knew that the demigod's growing vigilance was far more serious than the emotions he displayed. Any further reminders or questions would be pointless, so Klein couldn't help but offer his advice.
"Gambling or taking risks is ultimately not a long-term solution."
Klein leaned against the wall, watching Tristan nod at his statement. Instead of refuting him, he leisurely took out a pack of cigarettes, lit one with a match, and put it in his mouth.
"In my hometown, there have been many examples that show that gambling and adventure, no matter how much reward they may bring, are in vain."
"These two words, their meanings, and their consequences are like a slow-acting poison. Although you might not see the effects immediately by luck, the consequences will eventually come, and then no amount of medicine can save you."
Betting on a nation's fate... Klein has never seen a country win such a gamble.
That being said, he no longer believes that Trensault has reached a point where it must gamble with the fate of the nation.
Putting aside his speculation about the true allegiance of certain members within the Seven Gods, let's talk about the "mystery" above the gray fog...
As the "natural disaster" drew ever closer and the pace of war intensified, the world teetered on the brink of renewed chaos, and He almost ceased to conceal His state.
Despite not having spoken to each other recently, Klein inexplicably felt that "Mystery" was ready to return.
Klein didn't believe any of the claims that "I am merely a prisoner of the gray fog," "The war at the end of the Fourth Age banished me," "I cannot interfere with reality," or "The God of Mystery has become a distant illusion."
What a joke! If He really couldn't do anything, why would He plan the return of the "natural disaster," forcing Zhou Mingrui back to this cesspool-like alien world and to fight in His "name"?
His private actions, whether it was Tracy Pelle, or the ambiguous attitudes of Friedrich Zarathustra and Roman Ambrose, all indicate that this noble and great deity no longer bothers to deceive the mortal Zhou Mingrui, does he?
With the element of "mystery" at its core, the outcome of this war was already predetermined.
Klein thought so, and he was entitled to speculate and make assumptions about this deity, but Tristan knew nothing of the deeper things.
"Mr. V... Klein Moretti, as we discussed before, even now, I still do not consider you to be on the same level as us."
Tristan produced two old parchment scrolls out of thin air and said coldly.
"Everyone knows that gambling and taking risks are like drinking poison to quench thirst; everyone knows that, we don't need you to remind us."
"Without these poisons, our future would have vanished long ago when Heaven was shattered, or, to be more optimistic, when His Majesty Solomon fell."
The "ancient scholar" who had once traveled the world stood still, not handing over the parchment in his hand. He calculated the time and decided to take advantage of the spare moment to lay some things out.
"Trensost, the empire manipulated by the Creator still exists because of the combined efforts of many people with different visions."
"We come from different places, have different desires, and harbor all sorts of greed."
"You must think I'm a false believer, a hypocrite with a sanctimonious air."
Klein's eyelids twitched slightly, which Tristan noticed.
He scoffed.
"That's right. From a moral standpoint, I've long been a hypocrite who doesn't deserve to stand on the side of loyalty and righteousness for deceiving you into delaying the retrieval of the 'natural disaster'."
"I can't even be called a hypocrite; I'm undoubtedly a petty person, a selfish petty person."
"Like so many others in the empire, like Friedrich, an ambitious man who prioritizes family above all else, like Antigonus, a bewildered individual who temporarily submits to his former position, like Orsono Trensost, who uses the name of the Creator to plot his own petty schemes..."
"How can such a group of people compare to the six gods who are perfectly benevolent and beautiful, protecting humanity through the darkest moments of the great catastrophe?"
Tristan seems to have gone mad, rambling on about things completely unrelated to the current crisis.
"We've dragged ourselves to this point through gambling, our corrupt souls clinging to a single obsession, and now… we're about to gamble again."
He slammed the two parchments down on Klein's chest, his voice low and menacing, like the whisper of a devil.
"I know we will win this war, but I remember you wanted to act like a savior and give the natives of this land a better ending, right?"
"To tell you the truth, I am not afraid of Rune's navy or the followers of Storm at all. The evil followers of the 'Rose School' have already infiltrated this island. Just now, while you were communicating with the Lord, right outside your room, an abnormal disturbance broke out. Many natives have turned into corrupted monsters. They are the source of the sound you heard."
"Although it may sound blasphemous, the 'Mother Tree of Desire' is clearly a deity as powerful as the Creator and my Lord. At least the fact that the Creator has been helpless against it for so many years is proof of that."
"His gaze can cause established facts to shift. Originally, we were only striving for the magnitude of victory, but now we have to fight for victory itself."
"There are no other angels on the Rothschild Islands who can help us."
At this point, Klein roughly guessed the reason why Tristan had "gone mad" earlier.
He stared intently into the eyes of the "ancient scholar."
"You're trying to persuade me to gamble."
"That's right," Tristan readily admitted. "I don't want to die, I can't die."
He sighed, stroking the ring on his left ring finger, which had faded from being touched for so long, and reminisced and lamented.
"Just consider me a coward, a villain."
"I gambled once for the empire, for the Creator, and then almost lost everything, so now I'm timid and not as brave as before."
"I hope to use my death in a more exciting and meaningful way, to achieve my revenge together."
"As for now..."
Tristan assured Klein with unprecedented sincerity.
"I will provide all the support I can, beyond the bare minimum, for you who are about to risk your life."
"We can only hold onto victory if the Rune reinforcements entangle us and the followers of the 'Mother Tree of Desire' retrieve the 'Calamity' before they complete the ritual."
"A blessing from a god, even a mere scrap of food given away casually, is beyond my ability to handle. Therefore, only you can accomplish this task."
Tristan's pupils drew close to Klein's, and the sincerity in his words was sharper than deception.
The two received different information, so their thinking naturally differed. Tristan spoke at length about the reasons why he wanted the messengers who were alienated from the empire to understand the current crisis and its severity, and to volunteer to be a suicide squad to gamble on the unknown that they did not understand. For this, he was willing to abandon his sense of honor and some of his dignity as a nobleman.
As for Klein, he didn't quite understand the complexities of "politics" in this world. His thoughts were simpler, driven entirely by morality and good and evil, so simple that it was completely inconsistent with his identity and status.
After listening to Tristan's advice, only one thing came to mind.
He must now make contact with "Cataclysm," the "mysterious" body that was once part of His spare body.
He was willing to sacrifice his life to ensure the success of the "Mysterious God's" conspiracy.
The key is that he couldn't refuse...
Actually, he didn't need to do that. It was his indecisiveness that caused him to miss the best opportunity. As a result, he not only failed to help the Rothschilds, but also made their situation more dangerous.
And... ha, I can't escape either...
Klein demonstrated his stance through his actions.
He opened the parchment and found a string of spirit world coordinates recorded on it, as well as a record of 'natural disasters,' which resembled a danger assessment of the sealed artifact.
"I have a way to become a spirit and roam the spirit world, but I still need a sealing artifact to help me."
"No problem, Taylor Franz told me you have the authority to use the 'Holy Ark'."
Tristan readily agreed to Klein's request and even included a small gift.
He activated teleportation, sending Klein directly to the underground "Ark" of the Archipelago branch.
"Apart from the 'core', you can pick anything."
After the truth came out, all communication became easier.
Klein reached out, imbued his fingertips with spiritual energy, and made a small cut on the surface of his right thumb.
The overflowing blood flew into the air, merging with the omnipresent shadows. Then the curtain turned, and the boiling spiritual power tore a gap in the wall, revealing a deathly silent room behind it.
The inverted cross-shaped shrine was completely filled with spirituality. The "Three-Headed Sanctuary" seemed to come alive, with three heads, symbolizing different stages of life, floating in the air, scrutinizing those who came.
For a moment, Klein even suspected that the sealed object possessed rationality, because its gaze toward him was filled with sorrow, encouragement, and longing for the past.
It seems like this scene has happened before.
However, the urgency of the moment left Klein no time to think, and he was curious about the strangeness of the "Three-Headed Sanctuary".
Tristan remained outside the door, wandering alone within the Ark of the Sacred Relic.
He directly targeted the sealed object he had chosen long ago, his hands flashing with the "key" left by the true creator's spirit, and embraced the broken and ancient doll.
The moment the doll touched the surface and detached from its stable triangular structure, Klein's thoughts became sluggish and began to stagnate.
Fortunately, he remembered Taylor's explanation and decisively pulled his spiritual threads back into his own hands, snatching them from the control of the "victim".
As for the pollution and delirium, he also sensed them, but compared to his rich experience, they inevitably seemed somewhat weak.
Unfortunately, the burden of "the suffering" is too great for me, and coupled with manipulating the threads of the spirit, it is difficult for me to spare any other energy.
After a while, apart from the "wriggling hunger," all other sealed artifacts would have to be abandoned...
Mysterious incantations flashed with light, and a shadow filled the void left after the "victim" was taken away.
Klein looked up at the inverted cross. As the messenger of the true creator, this was the first time he had properly venerated the symbol of the true creator.
A cyclops-like humanoid, bound day and night to a cross that resembles a torture device, bearing the malice and sins of all beings, mending the wounds left by the Great Cataclysm, and comforting the souls of those who died unjustly.
Staring at the divine sculpture, Klein suddenly felt dazed.
It was still the same Cyclops carved from stone, but the image in front of him had become blurred.
He seemed to see a weary man looking down at him from above...
It was filled with sorrow.