Ouroboros nodded expressionlessly, a silvery-white glint flashed in its eyes, and one after another mercury-colored complex symbols interlinked, forming a rotating wheel. Simultaneously, crisp, ethereal shattering sounds echoed around, as if something unseen had quietly shattered.
"I'm not good at combat," Ouroboros whispered, as if explaining to Leyton, then fell silent again.
Inside Mishier Port, people who had been moving normally suddenly stopped at the same time, their eyes becoming unfocused and vacant. In their minds, the memories that had been repeatedly surfacing during this period surged forth.
In the Twilight Church, Snarnar and Eugene exchanged glances. One's body ignited, transforming into a fiery streak of crimson-near-white light, while the other turned into a pool of flowing silvery liquid. They rushed out of the church, one after the other.
The moment they burst out of the church doors, the surrounding environment suddenly changed. Pink petals began to fall from the sky, and the gray-white marble floor transformed into a quietly flowing stream.
An invisible force propelled them forward; they couldn't turn back, only advance.
In a trance, the falling petals and flowing stream around them seemed to recede into the distance. The surroundings grew dim and shadowy, countless starlight twinkling, outlining the shapes of eyes, creating a barrier that was isolated from the outside world and difficult to connect with.
The burning crimson and mercury-like silver quickly dispersed and then reformed, revealing the figures of Snarnar and Eugene.
Before Leyton could speak, Snarnar was the first to say:
"We will lead the army and believers out of the Primitive Forest and return to Feysac."
Leyton turned his head to look at the expressionless Ouroboros beside him, calmly asking, "What do you think?"
Ouroboros remained largely expressionless. Ripples appeared in its silver eyes, conveying an indifferent detachment, as if it were observing the long river of fate from an outsider's perspective, searching for the appropriate future.
A moment later, it looked at Leyton and nodded gently:
"They do intend to withdraw. You can't keep them."
"Them?" Leyton repeated, his gaze subtly shifting towards the outside world.
Pure, rich, twilight-like light emerged from the surrounding void, carrying a sense of holiness and glory, yet also an aura of twilight's arrival and the decay of all things, covering the surroundings.
This light gathered more and more, slowly turning into flowing water, illuminating the previously dark environment and obscuring the eyes outlined by starlight all around.
This barrier, isolated from the outside world and difficult to connect with, uncontrollably began to decay, crumbling and dissipating little by little.
Under the shroud of the twilight light, Snarnar and Eugene's bodies rapidly aged. Their skin quickly became covered in wrinkles, age spots appeared, and decaying liquid flowed from them.
In just a few blinks of an eye, they had aged to the point of seemingly almost evaporating from existence.
Then, they truly completely turned into decaying liquid, thoroughly evaporated, and vanished before Leyton and Ouroboros's eyes.
"These faith-bound Angels are truly troublesome. As long as they wish, they can borrow a portion of power from the god they believe in at any time."
Muttering softly, Leyton dispelled the surrounding barrier and calmly gazed into the void, towards Snarnar and Eugene, who had reappeared and returned to normal in the corresponding Spirit World.
Beside them stood a grizzled old man in an orange-Red Priest's robe. His face had no wrinkles, he was nearly three meters tall, and his grizzled hair and beard were simply styled, making him appear vibrant and radiant.
Leyton's eyes suddenly deepened, revealing a profound pale purple. In his gaze, the old man who had appeared in the Spirit World rapidly transformed, becoming a one-eyed giant with a greenish-black, gnarled body.
Every inch of this giant's skin, every pore, every piece of flesh, seemed to defy normal human perception, forming through a special combination, containing an unimaginable sense of impact.
Behind him, orange-red light spilled down from above, falling upon his body, rendering a desolate twilight.
Within the orange-red light, an exaggerated greatsword flickered in and out of existence. Whenever Leyton tried to examine the outline of that ethereal greatsword more closely, his gaze would unnaturally bend, his sight falling elsewhere.
"It seems I can't do anything covertly anymore."
Muttering softly, his entire being instantly etherealized, transforming into a torrent of information, rapidly surging into the Spirit World, where he reformed his body in front of the "God of Combat" Church's Angel.
He shook the Marionette he held in his hand, looked at the old man in front of him, and said leisurely:
"Good afternoon, how should I address you?"
"'Sword of Glory' Christopher."
Christopher's gaze fell on the puppet Leyton held in his hand, and the corner of his eye twitched slightly. A remnant of an Ancient Bane, was that how the commotion in the Spirit World earlier came about?
Thoughts uncontrollably floated in his mind for a moment. Christopher quickly composed himself and nodded gently to Leyton:
"The great God of Knights has already issued a divine oracle: Feysac will no longer participate in the internal affairs of the Southern Continent, nor the conflict between the new regime and Intis."
"My Lord is the Master of War, the Protector of Guns and Cannons. If you wish, you can pray for My Lord's blessing in the coming war. This will make your armies more courageous and your guns and cannons more powerful."
Armies fall under the Red Priest's authority, and guns and cannons belong to Steam, neither of which has anything to do with giants... Leyton silently mused, then nodded gently to the other party, roughly understanding what he wanted to convey.
The high-level forces supporting the Southern Continent's new regime were already on par with Intis. For both sides to continue seeking allies, apart from expanding the scale of the war, there was little meaning. It was better to withdraw in time, and even provide some moderate support to both sides simultaneously, in exchange for the "God of Combat" Church's support when it targets the Church of the Evernight Goddess later.
They want to buy me off with just this much? Do they think I'm too cheap?
Composing his thoughts, Leyton nodded gently to "Sword of Glory" Christopher, then transformed into a torrent of information, returning to Ouroboros's side, and nodded gently to it:
"I'll trouble you with the subsequent handling of the Primitive Forest. I need to begin some preparations, and won't be able to interfere with reality for a while."
Ouroboros did not reply or inquire, merely nodded.
I feel like it's becoming more and more withdrawn. The thought flashed through his mind, and Leyton immediately composed himself. His body instantly etherealized, disintegrating into complex streams of information, surging like a torrent towards the distance.
Returning to the Paz River Valley, Leyton reappeared in the corresponding Spirit World. Beneath his feet, a somewhat ethereal river meandered, undulating and flowing slowly. The river's color was quite complex, as if a paint bucket had been overturned.
This was the Paz River's manifestation in the Spirit World, and also Leyton's destination.
He scanned the surroundings, then looked up towards the seven clear, bright lights eternally hovering at the highest point of the Spirit World, and nodded gently to them:
"Please help me conceal the commotion."
As his voice fell, the distance between him and the quietly flowing, clear bright lights above suddenly vanished. Streaks of red, yellow, orange, purple, blue, green, and indigo light descended like curtains, enveloping a vast area of the surrounding Spirit World and intercepting information exchange in the vicinity.
Seeing that the Seven Lights of the Spirit World had already acted, Leyton nodded in acknowledgment, then extended his right hand forward and made a grasping motion.
The surrounding floating information was instantly drawn into his palm, condensing into an ethereal sphere of light. Simultaneously, complex and ethereal symbols condensed within his eyes, imbuing a vast amount of knowledge into it.
The ethereal sphere of light instantly expanded, engulfing his body, and continuously swelled outwards, encompassing more of the Spirit World.
Within the ethereal sphere of light, Leyton's body rapidly disintegrated, transforming into countless black threads, weaving into a constantly wriggling, pitch-black ball of threads, from which eyes grew.
Each eye shimmered with pure, clear light, outlining complex and ethereal symbols, bestowing substantial power upon the abstract knowledge around it.
The originally ethereal and formless knowledge gradually gained substance, constantly floating around, slowly settling downwards, accumulating into a pitch-black, ethereal wilderness.
On the wilderness, the bronze mechanical glove Leyton had been wearing silently appeared, rapidly disintegrated, scattering into fragments, and separating into faint, hazy glows—not brilliant, not clear, without any color, as if composed of countless ethereal things—merging into the ethereal wilderness.
The originally pitch-black and ethereal wilderness gradually gained substance after being filled with the Knowledge Magister's characteristic.
At the same time, from the black mass covered in eyes that Leyton had transformed into, streams of information separated and fell upon the wilderness, rendering a vibrant array of colors.
He separated his original Sage characteristic, using it and the Knowledge Magister characteristic as foundations to bear his information world.
That characteristic, originating from the Hidden Sage, had deeper connections with his main body on the Western Continent. This was no longer helpful to him, but to some extent, it could make the information world resonate with the Knowledge Moor of the Western Continent, allowing some power to penetrate and be transmitted through the seal.
On the wilderness, now with color and substance, blurred figures emerged. Some were humans, some were rabbits, some were Naga...
Their only commonality was that they had established some connection with Leyton, belonging to the Erudite's believers or potential believers.
Leyton, floating above the wilderness, quietly gazed downwards. Every eye on the pitch-black ball of threads radiated a deep blue, almost purple, brilliance, outlining ethereal, three-dimensional symbols within them.