"'Storm' is injured, and Evernight's situation is not convenient for a Divine Descent, so there's a high probability that Amon's true body will come to Backlund to cause trouble. Moreover, he can also steal George III's ritual of becoming a god."
No sooner had Leyton finished speaking than a crow with a white ring around its right eye landed in front of him, and Amon's voice came from its mouth:
"Heh, you know me well."
"How could I not come for such a bountiful opportunity? Sefirah Castle, Attendant of Mysteries, and the ritual of becoming a god are all gathered in one place. Even if Evernight risked a Divine Descent, I would still come. Life needs some excitement and adventure."
"This is a grand gamble. The winner takes all, the loser loses everything."
"Haha, isn't this exciting?"
Leyton nodded noncommittally, saying with an even tone:
"How can you be sure you're the sole winner?"
"The ritual of becoming a god isn't that easy to steal, unless George III himself gives up, or perhaps you've already stolen enough of his cornerstones and established a close connection with Him?"
"Heh, my luck isn't bad; I just happened to pick up something very useful nearby."
The crow with the white ring around its eye said with evident pleasure, and a playing card-sized paper card flashed before Leyton's eyes.
It was a card he was quite familiar with: the Black Emperor card, one of the 22 Cards of Blasphemy!
Leyton's expression froze slightly, then he asked with some confusion, "When did you steal it?"
The crow touched the white ring around its right eye with its wing, and Amon's voice, tinged with amusement, echoed around:
"All coincidence, a little luck. I just happened to pick it up, it's that simple."
"How about a trade? I don't need the Black Emperor's characteristics and uniqueness. You help me steal George III's ritual of becoming a god, and I'll give you the Black Emperor's characteristics and uniqueness. We both get what we need. This also prevents George III from becoming a god and saves time for Roselle's subsequent resurrection. Two birds with one stone, isn't it?"
"A very tempting offer, but aren't you overestimating your credibility?"
Leyton raised an eyebrow at Amon, his refusal quite clear.
"Alright, what a pity."
With a sigh, the crow with the white ring around its eye flapped its wings and flew away.
Leyton watched Amon's retreating figure in silence for two seconds, his thoughts churning in his mind:
Amon intends to steal the public's cognition, transfer George III's anchors to himself, create an Error, and then rely on the Black Emperor card's mystical effects to establish a connection with George III?
This will inevitably provoke a counterattack from the Loen Royal Family, but they happen to be restrained by us, who intend to destroy the ritual. Is it a race against time, to see if we destroy the ritual first, or if he steals it first?
"It seems that even Amon is under a lot of pressure to steal so many things in a short time. He didn't even leave an avatar behind to waste my time, trying to delay my speed in destroying the ritual tomb."
Muttering to himself, Leyton's body instantly became illusory, breaking down into streams of complex and pure information flow, rapidly surging into the interior of the tomb.
Inside the deep black, majestic ruins, George III had already donned the black crown and consumed the final potion, the potion to become a Black Emperor!
The ritual of becoming a god had begun. His body was transforming towards the direction of the Shadow of Order, expanding and extending in a marvelous state.
In this state, His spirit uncontrollably dispersed, sinking into the rules, gradually getting lost in the void ocean of rules and order.
And those nine tombs were like islands floating on the sea, while the public's cognition of Him were the dense lighthouses on the islands, helping Him grasp Himself and not become completely lost, becoming a part of the Shadow of Order.
Gradually, He found that the anchors helping to stabilize His spirit were becoming fewer and fewer; the dense anchors in the lighthouse city were disappearing.
No! They didn't disappear, they were stolen! Someone is stealing my anchors, stealing the public's cognition of me!
George III, already immersed in the ritual of becoming a god, was utterly unable to mount an effective resistance. He could only desperately try to maintain His state while attempting to re-establish contact with His subjects and simultaneously suppress the existence daring to steal His anchors.
As the anchors continuously decreased, His state began to uncontrollably decline, His body gradually collapsing, turning into a pool of writhing, shadowy black liquid, no longer able to maintain a human form.
In the deep, dark tomb, countless "lights" surged out, forming patches of mottled light, light spots with countless floating light and shadow, light spots evolved from fragments of civilization!
Under the influence of these light spots, the entire tomb was shaking, even its colors rapidly dissipating as if evaporating, as if it could disintegrate into its most basic particulate structure at any moment.
"Ah!!!"
An extremely sinister roar, piercing directly into the Spirit Body, suddenly erupted, causing even the light spots formed by civilization fragments to stiffen to some extent, as if corrupted, covered with a layer of viscous black liquid.
"The power of the domain of filth. Zaratul indeed called Suah as well."
As he murmured, countless "lights" floated, quickly outlining Leyton's figure.
The moment he revealed himself, a giant rag doll also appeared with him.
The rag doll's eyes were blood-red, its body inscribed with countless mysterious patterns, a pair of large curved goat horns grew from its head, and it had a pair of webbed wings on its back, with sinister vines Entanglement around its body, blooming with pale blue and crimson flowers.
The "Abomination" Suah appeared directly in front of Leyton in its mythological creature form, giving him no time to think. The giant rag doll's mouth, filled with sharp, crimson teeth, opened again, emitting an extremely sinister roar that pierced directly into the Spirit Body.
The shriek, mixed with intense curses and defiling power, caused a certain degree of stiffness in the information exchange.
Leyton's mind briefly went blank, momentarily losing all thoughts.
His body was unknowingly eroded and cursed, becoming quite "solidified," the degree of coherence between his body and soul gradually decreasing, his body slowly becoming a prison for his spirit, and his movements gradually becoming stiff and heavy.
As Suah intended to continue striking Leyton, a violent wind sound suddenly echoed around, seemingly from reality, yet also from illusion.
This sound was mixed with certain strong wills, accompanied by an invisible, transparent breath, wildly swirling everything around, and simultaneously attacking the bodies, minds, and spirits of all existences within the tomb.
This included Leyton, and also Suah, and even more so, George III, who was currently advancing!
A pure, clear pale blue light bloomed from within, instantly resetting Leyton's state.
He swept his gaze to the bottom of the tomb, where an elder in a grayish-white robe had appeared.
His appearance was unremarkable; his hair was completely white, but thick enough, with few wrinkles on his face, and no distinctive features. His demeanor was quite gentle, making him seem like an ordinary, kindly old man.
But Leyton's Eyes of Mystery Prying saw a giant dragon on him, a grayish-white Mind Dragon!
Hermes, attacking everyone directly as soon as he appeared. Had he become so arrogant after leaving the Twilight Hermit Order?
As thoughts flickered, Leyton already felt his mental state beginning to show problems. Various chaotic thoughts surged wildly in his mind, gradually giving rise to an impulse to destroy everything.
This influence was even stronger for Suah, who already indulged in desires and had assimilated demonic characteristics, and for George III, who was in the critical stage of advancement.
One of them had completely disintegrated, turning into a constantly twisting and writhing pitch-black mass that covered the entire floor of the tomb, while the other was spewing crimson lava and pale blue flames, filling the entire upper space of the tomb with a pungent smell of sulfur.
If this continued, Leyton wouldn't even need to deliberately destroy the tomb; it would naturally be ruined by their fierce battle.
Seemingly sensing the danger, George III, who was in the midst of advancement, disregarded His own state and forcibly used the power belonging to the Black Emperor, connecting the internal spaces of several tombs to summon Dlink Augustus and William Augustus I to the rescue.
As soon as he appeared, William Augustus I, majestic in his cloak, conjured a silver rapier out of thin air, pointed it forward, and made a swipe.
The previously chaotic scene was instantly and strangely halted, cleverly dividing the various factions in the tomb into different battlefields, making it difficult for their combat to affect the tomb itself.
The silvery-white paper in Bernadette's hand suddenly erupted with a pale golden light, and the battlefield William Augustus I had just divided instantly became ineffective.
Without giving him another chance to act, Leyton abandoned Suah, who was his opponent, and transformed into a torrent of terrifyingly complex information, surging in an illusory state to engulf William Augustus I's figure.
Suah couldn't stop him in time, because the illusory, violent wind sound echoed in His ears again. Mind Deprivation, Mind Breath, and Mental Plague erupted at the same moment, making it difficult for Him to respond effectively for a while.
Dlink Augustus and Grove Augustus, who intended to assist William Augustus I, were intercepted by Bernadette and Mr. Pulak Eggers. The disparity in their sequences and mystical items quickly put them at a disadvantage, making it difficult for them to spare any energy to help others.
Within the torrent of information, countless complex and useless knowledge poured into William Augustus I's mind, causing Him to temporarily lose all thought, unable even to utter a decree.
After a brief stiffness, William Augustus I's lips parted, and he uttered a low, extremely patient Ancient Hermes word:
"Exile!"