Klein took off his top hat, placed it on his chest, and bowed, saying, "Good afternoon, Ms. Arianna."
"Good afternoon." Arianna nodded lightly in response, then said no more.
Klein nodded awkwardly, unable to explain that he merely wanted to test the ability of an "Scholar of Yore." He could only change the topic to the war between Feysac and Loen:
"Madam, is the battle in the Amantha Mountains very intense? Can the Church resist the attack from Feysac?"
Arianna nodded gently, a rare hint of emotion showing in her calm, deep, dark eyes as she said, "It's very intense. The injury of the Lord of Storms has greatly boosted Feysac's morale. Chief Shepherd Larrion of the Church of the God of Combat has crossed the Minsk Mountains with a Sealed Artifact Grade 0 and entered this battlefield. I am doing my best to resist along with the other Archbishops of the Holy See."
Klein nodded in silence, his mood suddenly becoming much heavier. After two seconds of quiet, he continued to ask, "If I summon your historical projection during George III's apotheosis ritual, will it interfere with the battlefield in the Amantha Mountains?"
Arianna gently shook her head and said, "No, I am a Blessed of Concealment. A short disappearance will only make the demigods and angels of the Church of the God of Combat and the Feysac military vigilant, not daring to act rashly."
As soon as her voice fell, streams of information suddenly surged out of thin air in the basement. They descended in a phantom form, converging into a terrifyingly complex torrent of information that quickly gathered and reorganized into Leyton's figure.
He glanced at Arianna and Klein, who were talking face to face, nodded to them in greeting, and then smiled, "I was a bit curious, so I tried to wander through the historical fog as a historical projection."
"You can also enter the historical fog?" Klein asked, full of surprise.
Leyton nodded and chuckled, saying, "Civilization is built up by generations of humanity over thousands of years. Isn't it normal that I can gain some control over history through this?"
"Of course, I cannot directly enter the historical fog like your Scholar of Yore, I must rely on a certain connection."
As his voice fell, he directly displayed the locations and entry methods of the nine secret ruins of Alista Tudor, which he had obtained from Mr. Door.
"You..." Klein opened his mouth, then swallowed his question back.
"I found one of the builders of those tombs and got this information from him."
After a brief explanation, Leyton turned his head to Klein and continued, "Remember to summon my historical projection before entering the tomb. I can bypass those complicated steps and directly open the doors of those secret tombs."
"Oh, and the Marauder has a Sequence called Cryptologist."
As his voice fell, Leyton withdrew the consciousness he had projected. The eyes of this historical projection instantly became blank and lifeless, and its aura also dropped significantly, leaving only a portion of its power and characteristics.
"Cryptologist?" Klein murmured in confusion, then released his maintenance of Leyton's historical projection and looked at Arianna's historical projection.
Arianna was silent for two seconds, then replied, "He probably means for you to be careful of Amon. He is the Marauder closest to Error, and also the most powerful Cryptologist in the world. When the Goddess is inconvenient to descend, he might discover you through subtle traces, or even directly decipher your honorific name, thereby pinpointing your location."
"It can be like this?" Klein nodded in surprise. He decided to abandon the Sequence 3 honorific name he had already thought of and would come up with a new one later, or simply give up, since he already had the alias "The Fool."
In the central Sonia Sea, located in the White Whale Sea, is Nas, the capital of the Gargas Archipelago, the "White City."
Streams of complex and pure information surged out of the void, quickly converging and drilling into a clock tower at the highest point of the city.
Inside the gray-white clock tower was a small room, not large, but adequately furnished.
In front of the creaking wooden-framed window, sat an old man with dark gold hair and beard, and incredibly smooth skin without a single wrinkle. It was Ankewelt, the Dragon of Imagination, who had returned from the ancient dragon Ariehogg!
Leyton looked at this ancient dragon, who had fled to the Sonia Sea to avoid the True Creator and the Northern and Southern continents war, and calmly said, "This city seems to be developing some dragon worship customs. Aren't you worried this might attract the attention of the God of War?"
Ankewelt's face was gentle, with a slight smile at the corner of his mouth, just like an ordinary, somewhat talkative old man, he said, "The spiritual world hides too many secrets. Although I am no longer the Dragon of Imagination, I can still see some deeply buried things by relying on some past remnants."
"The war between Feysac and Loen makes the God of War uninterested in such small matters in the ocean, and when the war ends..."
At this point, Ankewelt paused, then said with a slight upward curve of his lips, "Do you really think the eldest son of the Giant King can maintain his current advantage and defeat the Evernight Goddess?"
"Even though the second epoch has passed for too long, I still dislike those one-eyed giants. They are impulsive, reckless, stubborn, and despicable."
"Excluding these personal feelings, Evernight is one of the few deities I have always been unable to see through. More importantly, if this war truly reaches a critical point, why hasn't Evernight sought help from the other five orthodox gods, or from you, or from the True Creator?"
"All of this indicates that the current situation is entirely within her expectations and has not deviated from her plan."
"Those reckless giants will eventually pay the price for their arrogance, just like Aurmir did in the past."
"I can tell that you have a deep personal grudge with the Giant King." Leyton remarked casually.
Ankewelt did not refute, but instead seemed to have found someone to vent his inner emotions to, and continued, "Although I don't want to admit it, I did stalemate with that foolish and short-sighted giant for nearly half an epoch, until the Ancient Sun God appeared. His short-sightedness led to the fall of the Elf King, and then to the defeat of all the ancient gods."
Do ancient gods talk so much after they stop being crazy? You don't resemble an "Audience" at all, or rather, is the current "Audience" pathway more influenced by Adam?
As thoughts flickered, Leyton extended his right hand forward, conjuring out of thin air a phantom ball of light formed by pure information.
The light quickly solidified, transforming into a badge depicting an eye surrounded by stars.
Under Leyton's manipulation, this badge flew directly onto the wooden windowsill in front of Ankewelt, and at the same time, he said, "I have a relatively safe channel here where you can also gain anchors, and it's very suitable for a 'Writer.' Are you interested?"
"Suitable for a 'Writer'? You need someone who can help you weave stories, don't you?"
Just as Leyton thought the other party would refuse, Ankewelt picked up the badge and sighed, "I don't seem to have a reason to refuse. The True Creator is too strong. The Lord of Storms will be the first to have his authority reclaimed by him, just like the Elf King once was, followed by 'Sun' and 'Omniscience.'"
"An existence like me, who cannot possibly defect to him, but is precisely within the authority he controls, can only find a sufficiently strong umbrella for myself."
Leyton nodded noncommittally, then brought up other topics:
"Your actions in the Gargas Archipelago can be bolder. The Lord of Storms' injury has intensified the war between Feysac and Loen. No one will care about things here now."
As his voice fell, Leyton's figure became ethereal, dissolving into streams of pure and complex information, surging and darting into the distance.
Ankewelt's pale gold eyes narrowed, almost becoming vertical pupils. He muttered in a very low voice, "Actions can be bolder... It seems this Knowledge Emperor is not satisfied with the Southern Continent and also wants to occupy the Gargas Archipelago, and even the White Whale Sea."
"He is very certain that the struggle between the eldest son of the Giant King and the Evernight Goddess will fail, or even result in death. I wonder what kind of trap there will be."
On Saturday morning, the sky over Backlund was a dull, misty gray, just like the mood of the people there at the moment.
Today, there were many pedestrians on the streets of Backlund. Some were going to collect relief food, while others were going to attend King George III's speech—a speech about the war, conveying beliefs, and mobilizing the public, which was also part of the Black Emperor ritual.
In the Municipal Square, as more and more citizens poured in, it became increasingly crowded.
At exactly nine o'clock in the morning, King George III's voice emanated from the radio broadcast set up in the Municipal Square, and was transmitted via radio technology to every corner of Loen and into the ears of every citizen.
"Ladies and gentlemen, I am your Emperor, the ruler of Loen, East Balam, and the Rorsted Archipelago, George Augustus III."
While George III's speech was underway, Leyton, relying on the historical projection pulled out by Klein, transformed into a torrent of information and quickly headed to East Chester County, where there was a secret tomb belonging to Alista Tudor.
One green vine after another descended out of thin air, and Bernadette's figure followed closely, emerging. She gazed calmly at the cliff face before her, a profound pale purple flashing in her eyes.
Under the gaze of the Eyes of Mystery Prying, this cliff face appeared ordinary, showing no abnormalities whatsoever.
"The power of Concealment," Bernadette murmured in a low voice, then turned her head to look at the empty space beside her.