As the light faded, the battlefield fell into an eerie stillness.

  The air still carried the lingering heat and divine resonance, dust slowly descending, the earth still shattered.

  San Niang and Xianzi Lin had stopped plucking the strings.

  The zither fell silent, and the sound blades dispersed.

  In the distance, the two mages stopped their spellcasting, standing still, their gazes locked tightly on the center of the battlefield.

  There—

  The two black-clad figures stood side by side, guarding the leader's flanks;

  while the five knights faced them from afar, locked in a tense standoff.

  The killing intent wove together like threads, the air seemed solidified, every breath threatening to ignite a new spark of conflict.

  And it was at this moment that the priest began to move.

  He walked step by step toward the center of the battlefield, his pace neither fast nor slow, but each step made the entire space feel increasingly taut—

  He was like an unsheathed sword of judgment, hanging above everyone's heads.

  It was at that very moment that the leader finally began to weigh the pros and cons:

  —Continue the mission?

  —Or cut the losses while there’s still time?

  In just an instant, he had his answer.

  The next moment, his voice quietly echoed in the minds of all his companions:

  —Fall back. I’ll cover the retreat.

  Elo caught the detail and froze for a moment.

  He had originally thought that the seven men in black were a suicide squad determined to destroy the ammunition depot at any cost.

  But the reality sharply overturned his judgment.

  They were not a group of reckless madmen, but rather top-tier transcendent beings with calculated, calm, and precise actions.

  Upon further reflection, the choice made perfect sense.

  —Keep men, lose land; land can be taken again. Keep land, lose men; land and men are both lost.

  Especially for transcendent beings of their level, if they completely concealed their whereabouts and shifted to guerrilla tactics...

  Assassinate the commanders, destroy the supply lines; ambush the convoys, launch surprise attacks on communication and intelligence nodes;

  waves of strikes, without regard for cost or consequences.

  This would be an endless nightmare!

  They could slip from one city to another overnight without a trace;

  move freely under the enemy's nose, rendering all defenses useless.

  Even more frightening, they could twist an officer's will, turning loyalty into betrayal, and promises into empty words.

  Elo instinctively held his breath.

  —This kind of enemy is truly terrifying!

  Even if they wanted to encircle and annihilate them—ordinary soldiers were powerless, ordinary police were powerless;

  even most mid-level and low-tier transcendent beings couldn’t stop these powerful foes.

  By the time reinforcements arrived on the battlefield, they would only see—

  A field of corpses, scorched earth, torn buildings, smoke still lingering, and blood yet to cool.

  The only ones capable of resisting were top-tier transcendent beings of the same level.

  But how many such people were there?

  They couldn’t be everywhere at once;

  They couldn’t guard every village, every transport line;

  They couldn’t be by the side of every important official at all times;

  They couldn’t watch over all the factories, railways, dams, and farmlands;

  And they certainly couldn’t guard every hospital, school, and residential area;

  —They couldn’t protect all the civilians.

  Because the enemy’s blades never targeted just the soldiers; they had never shown mercy to the civilians either.

  This was not a simple terrorist attack, but a premeditated, systematic sabotage.

  A precise strike at the heart of the nation—comprehensive, all-encompassing.

  So, if these powerful enemies escaped—

  From this moment on, the entire enemy would live under their shadow.

  Everyone, whether civilian or noble—

  From this moment on, everyone in the nation would live under their shadow!

  So, when there’s a risk of casualties, why not choose retreat?

  If you insist on fighting to the death—knowing it will end in total defeat just to complete the mission—then the enemy would probably be laughing in their sleep.

  They’d lose a warehouse, while you would lose seven top-tier warriors who could change the course of the battle.

  Without them in the future, how could you face the enemy’s next assault?

  War has never been a matter of bravado—

  —It’s a contest of resources and wisdom, a never-ending battle of endurance.

  Only by surviving can you continue fighting;

  Only by surviving can you strike the enemy a truly heavy blow on the next night, at the next battlefield.

  So, of course, they chose to retreat.

  It was not cowardice, not weakness, but clarity.

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  It was rationality, it was true respect for this war.

  Because they understood this, after the order was given—

  The other six did not hesitate and silently accepted it without question.

  They had received the order to retreat and had long been prepared to leave.

  But on their faces, there was not a trace of expression belonging to "retreating soldiers."

  Cold, calm, as if in the next second they would charge at the enemy and fight to the death.

  By mere appearance, who would believe—this was a team about to turn and leave?

  But Elo could "see" it.

  Beneath that calm exterior, there was a deeply suppressed emotional fluctuation.

  They were covered by layers of self-discipline, firmly sealed by their will, but still leaked a faint echo.

  It was not fear of death, nor the unfinished mission.

  It was because—their leader had chosen to stay behind.

  Especially the female in black named "San Niang," whose spiritual fluctuation was the most complex.

  Outwardly calm as water, but her spirit was violently shaken deep within.

  It wasn’t the trust between comrades, nor the sympathy between companions.

  That emotion—Elo was very familiar with it.

  It was love.

  A deep, restrained, silent love.

  Elo gave a faint, inward smile, as if confirming a long-held suspicion.

  —I knew it, these two must be involved.

  The situation remained tense, the killing intent still lingered in the air.

  But at this moment, Elo felt a hint of warmth in the midst of the smoke;

  as if, under the cold armor, he could see a faintly beating heart.

  And because of that, he silently made a decision in his heart.

  —If necessary, he would step in to help these two.

  He wouldn’t act as the "Emperor of the Ark Empire,"

  Not for the sake of victory, not for the nation, not for the balance of interests.

  But simply—as "Elo."

  As for the reason?

  Simple.

  He didn’t want to watch the feelings hidden in San Niang’s heart be swallowed by the flames of war, crushed by reality;

  —quietly, without a sound, dying in this world.

  Why step in for a love that wasn’t his?

  Because—he longed for love.

  Throughout his long life, he had never truly experienced a complete, lasting love.

  Elo knew himself well.

  He knew what he wanted.

  And he knew what kept him going on this journey.

  Not power, not wealth, not knowledge, nor that ageless, immortal body.

  —But love.

  —That one destined woman.

  That longing had always been there, carrying him through fire and ruin;

  Even after witnessing battlefields like hell, even after seeing through the absurdity of this world,

  He still hadn’t stopped, hadn’t opened the [Gate of Worlds], hadn’t ended the journey and gone home.

  —He chose to keep going.

  Of course, he wasn’t na?ve enough to believe that love would obediently wait at the finish line.

  He knew—love would run away. Again and again.

  One morning, he woke up, reached out for that familiar warmth,

  Only to find a cold, empty bed.

  She was already gone.

  Leaving behind nothing but a note, an empty room, a long silence—

  And that one sigh he couldn’t hold back.

  She was like a carrot, forever dangling in front of the donkey named "Elo."

  A donkey too stubborn to quit, knowing he’d never reach it—yet still inching forward.

  Muttering as he went, daydreaming that maybe one day, she’d turn back and wait for him.

  So he kept walking, endlessly walking—because he wanted that carrot far too much.

  So, if he had never noticed San Niang's feelings, that would have been one thing.

  But now that he knew, how could he just stand by and watch the tragedy unfold?

  He refused the tragedy.

  He refused that kind of ending, where two people deeply in love could only be torn apart by life and death.

  He knew very well that if he stood idly by at this moment, even if they never crossed paths again;

  Years later, when he looked back on this past...

  —He would regret it.

  —He would hate that indifferent version of himself from back then.

  It wasn’t that he wanted to do something for "San Niang," but rather, he didn’t want—

  —To face a similar ending himself one day.

  So, he couldn’t remain indifferent.

  It wasn’t out of duty, it wasn’t out of responsibility,

  It was simply because, he too was afraid of losing.

  Just as Elo was quietly delighting in his little discovery, the situation on the battlefield quietly shifted.

  The priest slowly walked toward the leader, his steps steady and firm.

  Finally, he stopped, smiling, and slowly opened his arms, as if welcoming an old friend with composure.

  Then, he chuckled softly and said, "Isn’t it a pleasure to have friends come from afar?"

  "…?"

  Elo was immediately stunned, feeling as though he'd been struck by lightning—

  Σ( ° △ °|||)

  His entire face cracked open, his expression almost frozen in place.

  It wasn’t because of the content of the words—but because of the “language” he was speaking!

  —Perfect, pure, authentic Chinese!

  Clear enunciation, crisp pronunciation, as if he were about to make him recite The Analects of Confucius in the next second.

  And that was exactly what completely broke Elo’s mental defense!

  Since arriving in this world, Elo had only heard two languages:

  One was the language spoken by the slaves and the black-clad figures;

  the other, that of the white soldiers and officers.

  But now—

  A third language had appeared.

  No, more accurately, the Chinese he was familiar with had appeared!

  If this were the 21st century, it wouldn’t be such a big deal…

  But the problem was—this wasn’t the 21st century!!!

  The leader spoke in a calm tone. His voice wasn’t loud, yet it carried a piercing, bone-chilling edge:

  "The devil can quote Scripture for his purpose."

  —Flawless English, every word crisp and precise, like it had been lifted straight out of someone’s language textbook!

  Though Elo had never been great at English, he had at least read Shakespeare’s The Merchant of Venice.

  So the moment the man in black spoke, Elo understood instantly.

  But it was because he understood that his eyelids began twitching uncontrollably.

  —What the hell? Was this a novel? A movie? This level of absurdity was off the charts!

  And it didn’t stop there—what made it even more ridiculous was this:

  Logically, the man in black should’ve been speaking Chinese—he looked every bit like someone from East Asia.

  And the priest on the other side, with his textbook Western features, should have been the one speaking English.

  But the reality?

  —Completely reversed.

  The man in black was speaking English so fluent he could ace a native-level proficiency exam,

  While the priest opened his mouth and delivered a flawless line of Mandarin.

  Elo’s worldview shattered on the spot, his brain reduced to rubble, leaving only two giant words echoing inside:

  —What the fk?!

  At this moment, Elo finally glimpsed a hidden truth about this world—

  This world was not a true “otherworld,” but a parallel counterpart to the [Origin: Ark - Earth Universe].

  The leader of the black-clad figures casually quoting Shakespeare's The Merchant of Venice was a clear indication that the current time was at least after the 16th century.

  However, after the 16th century, the trajectory of this world began to diverge from the [Origin: Ark - Earth Universe], following an entirely different path of development.

  Over the course of long years, English and Chinese gradually separated from the everyday language of common people, becoming high-level languages for the "nobility" or "upper society," much like the Latin of old.

  So, the question arises—what year was it now?

  Everything on the battlefield pointed to an 18th-19th century historical backdrop, as if this world had stagnated in that era.

  However, Elo immediately rejected this assumption.

  His [Transcendent Intuition] told him with crystal clarity—

  —This was far beyond that, very likely already past the 21st century!

  The moment Elo thought of the 21st century, an astonishing possibility flashed through his mind.

  He looked up at the night sky—

  Though the vast sky was pitch black, with not a single star shining, his eyes reflected a brilliant sea of stars.

  —Could it be that humanity in this world also experienced that cataclysmic disaster that destroyed the solar system?

  If this hypothesis were true, the key question would be—why?

  Why was this world’s solar system able to remain relatively intact?

  —Is there another "Alaya" silently guarding this world?

  —Or was the power of that great disaster far weaker than the one in the [Origin: Ark - Earth Universe]?

  If it’s another Alaya, what state is it in now?

  If the disaster’s power was weakened, then—what exactly diminished it?

  Elo’s lips slowly curled into a smile, a surge of uncontrollable excitement rising deep within his chest.

  It was as if flames were burning, fierce and wild.

  In that moment, he wanted to shout aloud, to gather those with like-minded goals—

  —Let us go forth together to conquer the stars and the vast sea of the cosmos!

  —Let us uncover the truth of this world—together!

  However, as Elo looked around, reality ruthlessly poured a bucket of cold water on him.

  He helplessly scratched his head—this boiling passion of his found no companions to burn alongside.

  With nowhere to release his fervor, nowhere for his ideals to resonate, under the night sky, he stood alone, facing the boundless unknown.

  In that moment, he thought of his empire, his government, and the ten thousand people.

  —But he shook his head.

  Not because they weren't strong enough or trustworthy enough;

  But because their existence represented the nation, meant politics, and symbolized an entire vast system of interests.

  And Elo’s “departure” was precisely to escape all of that.

  This journey should be a pure, personal adventure of his own, not complicated international affairs.

  He sighed lightly in his heart, but soon found peace.

  —Even without like-minded companions, one person can still conquer the stars and the vast sea of the cosmos!

  —Even alone, I can uncover the truth of this world!

  For now, Elo wasn’t in a hurry to unravel these mysteries.

  He much preferred to piece together the full truth of this world bit by bit on his journey.

  If anyone dared to tell him the answer outright—he’d blow their damn head off without a second thought.

  —Spoiler snitches, may your whole family perish!

  It was precisely for this reason that he had never considered asking the “Empire’s Alaya” for answers.

  After all, even if he did ask, Alaya would only look at him with innocent eyes and say:

  —I don’t know anything.

  And not just Alaya—the people of the Empire were the same.

  None of them were fools.