Gurgle gurgle.

  The colossal, star-abyss-like Creeping Sea tributary continuously pierced through layers of unknown space-time and dimensions.

  Countless colorful 'images' constantly rustled past Seraphine's 'eyes' as she moved within the Creeping Sea.

  In these seemingly real 'images,' she saw thousands of colossal battleships, like flickering, cold-light-radiating stars, swiftly flying into the depths of the universe with immense momentum.

  She saw teams of half-mechanical dinosaur warriors, wielding large, cumbersome electromagnetic and laser weapons, roaring and shooting at each other amidst the desolate ruins of a modern city.

  She saw hundreds of thousands of robust, heavily armored, strangely shaped and indescribable alien life forms, fiercely battling each other at extreme speeds amidst vast nebulae.

  She saw swarms of strange cosmic snakes, hundreds of thousands of miles long, covered in dazzling sharp spines, heavily traversing the vast accretion disks of colossal black holes.

  All sorts of bizarre scenes and countless beautiful and striking sights were completely blurred and chaotic within the boundless Colorful River of Light.

  It was in this extreme chaos that a voice suddenly disregarded all the chaotic information and energy, unexpectedly entering Seraphine's sensory range:

  "Hello, stranger. I am Mobo, a Chrono Merchant from the City of Everything. Are you interested in taking a look at my wares?"

  The language contained in this sentence was like a universal cosmic tongue.

  Each word sounded utterly unfamiliar, yet as soon as it entered Seraphine's sensory range, she could completely understand it, miraculously without any delay.

  "Hmm? Chrono Merchant?!"

  Seraphine's gaze suddenly solidified. Her mental power abruptly surged, like an awakened ancient deep-sea octopus extending thousands of tentacles, reaching out towards the chaotic, dazzling 'current.'

  Hum.

  As the current violently rippled and surged, it was suddenly permeated by her crystal-clear mental power, moving directly towards the source of the sound.

  The distance was not far.

  After traversing merely tens of thousands of meters of the river, she 'saw' through her mental perception a colossal, ten-meter-tall emerald-colored creature, resembling a giant grasshopper.

  That creature was completely unaffected by the violently surging current outside; it was now standing perfectly still within the Creeping Sea.

  From this oddly shaped creature, Seraphine could clearly sense a formidable life aura. This aura felt not much weaker than that of an ordinary Milky Way Overlord.

  Of course, this was only in terms of life force.

  If one truly wanted to compare the combat power of the two in a fight to the death, it would require an actual battle to accurately calculate.

  At the same time, the other party also seemed to sense Seraphine's mental perception. It immediately emitted waves of warm and friendly informational fluctuations representing 'calm and without malice,' looking towards her with its deep green compound eyes.

  "Within the Creeping Sea, there actually exists a so-called Chrono Merchant. Does that mean literally traveling upstream through various space-times?

  City of Everything? Could it be the gathering point for Chrono Merchants?

  Named after the myriad phenomena, implying the myriad things and phenomena of the entire universe.

  However, utilizing the power of this Creeping Sea to traverse, it truly is possible to wander through countless space-times."

  All sorts of thoughts, accompanied by intense curiosity, flashed through Seraphine's mind in an instant.

  Then, she waved her hand, intending to disperse the layers of ripples swirling around her body to 'swim' towards the emerald grasshopper.

  But Seraphine immediately discovered that achieving this was actually quite difficult.

  These layers upon layers of Creeping Sea ripples, seemingly composed of complex energy, information, and some unknown power, were like ultimate non-Newtonian fluids, heavy as mountains.

  Merely maintaining stability within them was already very difficult; moving was even harder.

  It was as if they only wished for those within them to passively drift with the current, and did not wish to grant them full autonomy of movement.

  Of course, the power of these numerous obstacles ultimately had its limits.

  If her main body were in this region, a single thought could probably instantly evaporate countless segments of this vast Creeping Sea river.

  But this divided attention of Seraphine had only just been born. Although its 'quality' was extremely high, its 'quantity' had not yet had time to grow.

  Therefore, Seraphine found these Creeping Sea ripples somewhat troublesome.

  Just at this moment, the emerald grasshopper seemed to notice this.

  He smiled gently: "There is no need to worry. Ordinary creatures from outside the Creeping Sea are not accustomed to this environment. It is a very normal phenomenon."

  Having said that, this Chrono Merchant named Mobo calmly walked towards Seraphine.

  As he walked, the chaotic and confusing Creeping Sea ripples seemed to gain intelligence. Without Mobo needing to actively wave his hand to disperse them, they dissipated, creating a straight, vacuum passage that extended tens of thousands of meters, reaching Seraphine's feet.

  "Creatures from outside the Creeping Sea..."

  Seraphine's eyes flickered as she looked at Mobo, whose movements were slow and leisurely, yet whose speed was like lightning under the impetus of the endless Creeping Sea ripples around him. She said with an interested smile, "In that case, are you a creature from within the Creeping Sea?"

  "Yes, you can understand it that way."

  Mobo, who had quickly arrived and stood before her, nodded without pretense, "To you, I am a native resident of the Creeping Sea."

  After speaking, he gently waved his emerald leg, stirring up layers of chaotic waves in the heavy and turbulent Creeping Sea current, covering a vast area of hundreds or thousands of miles around.

  These great waves, after swiftly 'clearing out' a large empty area, did not dissipate. Instead, as if they were solid matter, they automatically combined and piled up beneath Seraphine's and Mobo's feet, forming a colossal and flat rocky platform, approximately a thousand miles in circumference.

  The process took no more than a few seconds.

  Click.

  Seraphine's mental power extended, touching the vast earth beneath her feet.

  Her extremely precise senses instantly detected the material composition of the platform.

  It was genuine matter. Although she had never encountered this specific molecular formula, it was clearly no illusion.

  "Truly wondrous."

  She slightly raised her head, observing the constantly surging Creeping Sea waves beyond the platform's edge. "These complex energy components flowing within the Creeping Sea can actually form molecules and atoms directly, bypassing any physical reactions or known processes."

  "Haha," Mobo smiled gently from a short distance away. "These are all blessings from the divine."

  Seraphine frowned and asked, "The divine?"

  "Indeed." Mobo slowly raised his three pairs of slender arms, making a complex gesture toward the chaotic sky. "We are born of the Creeping Sea, and to the Creeping Sea we return. Under the blessing of the supreme God of the Creeping Sea, hunger, cold, injury, or the pain of blood deficiency shall never afflict the residents of the Creeping Sea for all eternity."

  "Blessing?"

  Seraphine pondered for a moment before understanding. "I see. It is a portion of Authority granted to you by the God of the Creeping Sea—the Authority to manipulate the various powers within the Creeping Sea, to create matter, supplement energy, heal the body, and other such abilities. That must be it."

  "Hmm..." Mobo tilted his head slightly. "Your understanding from that perspective is not incorrect, but those details are not significant."

  Having said that, he gently asked again, "So, stranger, are you interested in taking a look at my wares?"

  "Very well." Seraphine smiled brightly. "Merchants of time and space who travel through various realms must possess many interesting things. Of course I am interested."

  "You overestimate me." Mobo slowly shook his head. "Although I can adapt to various space-time environments, I am essentially a creature of the Creeping Sea and cannot exist in normal space-time for long. Ultimately, I must return here."

  "I suddenly have a strange question." Seraphine calmly looked at Mobo. "Why are you so gentle? Why haven't you tried to kill me?"

  It was a valid question. This divided attention of hers had only just been born, and the aura it displayed was not strong at all, barely reaching the Transcendent level.

  "Haha." Mobo smiled calmly. "We, the residents of the Creeping Sea, have never been fond of conflict. The universe is beautiful, and our lives are long; why bother with murder and plunder? Moreover..."

  He carefully glanced at Seraphine and added with a smile, "Having been a Chrono Merchant for so long, I can say that my intuition and discerning eye are quite sharp. Although the aura you display is weak, my intuition tells me that if I were to harbor any ill intentions, I would certainly face a tragic end."

  "Not bad at all." Seraphine chuckled. "You should thank your intuition."

  She was right. Although they were worlds apart in terms of magnitude, a spiritual light phantom capable of intervening at the fundamental particle level and possessed of Sage level quality could eliminate an opponent in a fraction of a second.

  However, considering the giant grasshopper had been amiable and revealed several secrets of the Creeping Sea, Seraphine had no desire to act undignified.

  "Respected stranger, I have spoken quite a bit. Now, perhaps we should..."

  "Wait a moment," Seraphine interrupted. "Since you call them wares, what is the required payment?"

  "Anything can be used." Mobo smiled. "All tangible objects and all information can be used for trade. Whether it is interstellar battleships, extraordinary abilities, secret arts, or divine weapons, all are tradable."

  "Is that so?" Seraphine furrowed her brow slightly. "But the rules between different space-times are not identical. When an object moves from one space-time to another, its ability to function—or even exist stably—is an unknown matter. How can you guarantee these items retain their value?"

  "Stranger, please do not worry about that." Mobo chuckled. "Our trades receive the blessing of the God of the Creeping Sea. Under his blessing, all traded items become compatible with various space-times."

  "Another blessing..." Seraphine mused. "Is this blessing similar to the Light of Infinity of my main body, able to solve everything?"

  "Alright, display your wares then."

  "Heh heh... very well." Mobo chuckled and suddenly produced a colossal display shelf, hundreds of kilometers long, from an unknown space.

  In this giant container, dozens of items were densely packed: ancient books, bizarre fruits, jars of unknown substances, and small machines with unclear functions. The most numerous, however, were various colorful, shapeless phantom light clusters.

  Each time Seraphine's gaze shifted to an item, its basic information appeared in a screen format:

  Flying Dagger, Wu Clan Bloodline, Eight Inner Gates, Dream-Shattering Blade Technique, Ghost King Bloodline, Chitty Chitty Kid, Fanma Alien Bloodline, Holy Spirit Sword Technique, Sachiko's Videotape, Pillar Man Bloodline, Lament Box, Ghoul Bloodline, Five Tigers Breaking Gate Saber, Shan's Eye, Sun Breathing, Marine Six Forms, Innate Qiankun Art, Nigh-Invulnerability Template, Aura Cultivation Method, Running Physique, Alchemy Inheritance, Innate Body-Shattering Formless Sword Qi, Succubus' Favorite Pet, Big Dipper Divine Fist, Turtle Shell Divine Art, Nine Yang Divine Art, Soul-Shattering Spear, Dragon God Art, Demonic Seed Dafa, North Sea Rebirth Method, Jenova Cells, Peacock Plume, Icy Mox, Puppet Template...

  "...What is all this random junk?"

  Looking at these extremely familiar items, Seraphine felt a mix of amusement and exasperation. The quality of this Creeping Sea merchant's wares was quite disappointing.

  Turning to the inexplicably confident Mobo, she couldn't resist asking, "Is this all? Do you have anything better?"

  The merchant was stunned. "Better? Are these... not good enough? I obtained each of them from across space-time with great effort."

  "Tsk..."

  Seraphine pursed her lips and continued to scan the display shelf.

  To be honest, among these items, barely a few could even reach the Star-destroying level; the vast majority fell well below the Planetary threshold.

  It wasn't that they were complete garbage, but for someone of her stature, these trinkets were merely novelties—interesting to look at, but frankly useless for enhancing her actual strength.

  "However..."

  Seraphine meticulously scanned the display case, noting a few curiosities that were at least worth a brief study.

  "Stranger, if I may..."

  Mobo, observing the serene light phantom before him, rubbed his clawed hands together and offered an eager smile. "Have you found anything to your liking?"

  Seraphine nodded. "I've made my choice."

  She pointed toward the colossal display shelf and made a sharp, sweeping gesture.

  Hum—

  Her mental power field instantly surged, enveloping the shelf and delicately extracting three specific items.

  An unremarkable-looking videotape, a pitch-black Rubik’s Cube engraved with intricate patterns, and a frosted ice coffin emanating a dense, bone-chilling mist.

  These were Sachiko's Videotape, the Lament Box, and Icy Mox.

  Mobo let out a startled exclamation. "Oh? You want those? I should probably warn you—those three are quite temperamental. Back when I first acquired them..."

  "It doesn't matter," Seraphine interrupted with a slight shake of her head. Her tone was indifferent. "I didn't bring any physical currency, so I will settle the debt with information."

  "Excellent! Truly marvelous!" Mobo rubbed his claws together, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. "I look forward to it."

  Seraphine gave a curt nod. From the vast ocean of her memories, she effortlessly 'extracted' an unnamed Overlord-class cultivation method—one capable of guiding a practitioner toward the level of a Milky Way Overlord. She condensed the knowledge into a sphere of materialized information and carelessly tossed it into Mobo’s waiting claw.

  "This method allows even the lowliest mortal to evolve into a Milky Way Overlord. While its raw power is unremarkable, its primary advantage is accessibility. Provided one possesses sufficient perseverance, a modicum of talent, and an environment where the Ether density is at least High-Ether, reaching the Overlord stage is an inevitability.

  Tell me, are you familiar with the concept of a Milky Way Overlord? If not, I can elaborate."

  "I am, I am," Mobo replied, nodding fervently. "I’ve traversed at least thirty-seven space-times where the Milky Way Overlord is a recognized tier of combat power. It is roughly equivalent to my own current level."

  Upon receiving the cluster of light, he immediately began reciting a complex, solemn incantation, his movements fluid as he performed several prayer-like gestures.

  Hum—

  A faint yet majestic vibration suddenly descended from the unknown reaches of the void. It swept slowly over both of them and the traded items before silently vanishing.

  "The transaction is sealed," Mobo announced, already beginning to 'read' the cultivation method within his mind.

  "Good. It's time I continued my journey."

  Seraphine tucked the cube and the videotape into the spatial storage of her soul body. She then turned her attention to the rectangular ice coffin—over two meters tall—standing before her.

  Through the translucent ice, she gazed at the robust figure within: a man clad in tattered rags, his face hidden behind an old mask, gripping a blood-stained machete—Mox Wohsi.

  ...

  After bidding farewell to Mobo—the Chrono Merchant and self-proclaimed resident of the Creeping Sea—the flow of the Colorful River of Light, which had been frozen by his Authority, resumed its natural course.

  Once again, Seraphine was enveloped by the heavy ripples of the Creeping Sea, her form shifting back into a hazy, ethereal cluster of light. Guided by the distant space-time coordinates of Ansel, she accelerated through the boundless tributary toward the Realm of Phantasm.

  Gurgle... gurgle... gurgle...

  Bubbles burst and heavy waves rolled.

  Before long, brilliant clusters of light—varying in size and shape—began to flicker in and out of view across the void beyond the tributary.

  These light clusters resembled miniature worlds, each projecting its own unique energy field.

  Icy frost, scorching evaporation, spectral energy, charging cavalries, high-tech firepower, desolate silence, concentrated death, teeming vitality, absolute stillness, and raging thunder...

  The energy fields from these Secret Realms overlapped and collided within the void, generating massive, chaotic torrents of illusory information every second.

  Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

  These torrents, resembling gamma-ray bursts in the physical universe, surged outward in all directions upon impact. Some vanished into the vacuum just as quickly, as if slipping into hidden dimensions.

  "A Secret Realm!"

  Still within the Creeping Sea current, Seraphine smiled. "It seems I’ve reached the Realm of Phantasm without even realizing it."

  Armed with extensive data on this region, Seraphine instantly recognized these misty clusters as the Secret Realm sub-worlds that the explorers from Ansel’s Black Abyss Observatory had spent generations plundering.

  Observing the information torrents, she deduced that the inkblot-like clusters of dream information within the Sentience Realm were likely byproducts of these collisions—energy shot toward the Projected Layer where it eventually condensed.

  It was a minor detail. Seraphine quickly refocused her attention on the exterior of the Creeping Sea.

  As she sped through the tributary, she 'witnessed' thousands of Secret Realms flashing past every second.

  She noted that their size and mass followed no discernible pattern. Some were barely a few hundred meters across, while others spanned tens of thousands of kilometers—the upper limit of what she could observe.

  As the river twisted through the void, the density of these realms surged until they eventually converged into a boundless sea of shimmering mist.

  Whoosh!

  Piercing through one ocean of light, an even more dazzling expanse of Secret Realms opened up before her.

  Finding herself with a moment of quiet, Seraphine brought the crude ice coffin containing Mox forward.

  "As I suspected, it isn't that simple."

  Sensing the dense aura of death and killing intent within the coffin—and the power that twisted the very logic of flesh and soul—Seraphine offered a knowing smile. "Indeed. A man who can return from being blown to ash through purely illogical means... a nearly conceptual immortal body could never be simple."

  Within Mox’s body and soul resided a power capable of warping the logic of reality, fundamentally similar to the Light of Infinity possessed by her main body.

  It was this power that made Mox an 'uncaused effect'—a terrifying, immortal predator whose abilities defied all reason.

  This was the second time she had encountered power of this magnitude, the first being the Great Eyes.

  Possessing similar power herself, Seraphine understood its terrifying nature.

  Compared to this, the four fundamental forces and the law of conservation of energy were nothing more than quaint suggestions.

  Traditional rules and laws were like a paper screen—easily punctured, far too fragile to even be considered an obstacle.

  This realization underscored just how intractable the Great Eyes truly were—an entity far more formidable than all her previous enemies combined and multiplied ten-thousand-fold.

  Mox’s existence also served as a reminder: across the infinite parallel realities, beings like the Great Eyes and herself—those who could rewrite reality at a whim—were likely not as rare as she had hoped.

  "Perhaps," Seraphine mused, "only those with the ability to warp reality can truly be considered 'powerful'..."

  "As for those Universal Sages still limited to manipulating matter, energy, fields, and fundamental forces... they are perhaps merely ordinary, unremarkable creatures."

  "However, this has given me an idea."

  She smiled. "My divine subjects are overdue for an upgrade."

  With that thought, Seraphine’s main body—stationed back in the physical universe—temporarily ceased its consumption of the Perseus Arm.

  Hum—

  Amidst the dazzling flickering of the Light of Infinity, she suddenly delved into the multi-layered Primordial continent within her second exterior body, enveloping tens of quintillions of intelligent life forms.

  She began a complex and profound optimization and modification process.

  ...

  Within the vast Realm of Phantasm.

  After putting away the ice coffin, Seraphine produced Sachiko's Videotape for further study.

  Crack, crack, crack.

  Enveloping the videotape with her mental power, she immediately sensed the dense, suffocating resentment contained within.

  This resentment, condensed to a nearly material state, harbored immense mental energy, telekinetic force, and a degree of control over the shallow layers of space-time.

  Seraphine understood the situation immediately.

  "It seems to differ from the sci-fi setting of the original Sachiko novels. This version of Sachiko is a purely supernatural entity—a powerful evil spirit birthed from the resentment of a victim, who was originally a potent superpower user."

  Her eyes flickered as she instantly reviewed every piece of data regarding the Sachiko series from the depths of her memories.

  On the Earth of her previous life, the films and novels were two entirely different beasts.

  The original novel was an authentic piece of science fiction.

  In that work, humanity had created a virtual simulation called The Ring World to observe the development of Earth.

  Because it was an artificial construct, time within The Ring World flowed at an accelerated rate, leading to a technological evolution that far outpaced the real world.

  Eventually, real-world humanity began 'harvesting' the advanced technologies developed by the virtual civilization to bolster their own scientific progress.

  Setting aside any potential logical inconsistencies—since internal consistency isn't always the hallmark of sci-fi—the core fact remained: The Ring World was a false reality simulated by computers.

  Eventually, a 'virus' appeared within the system: Sachiko.

  While in some parallel realities Sachiko might indeed be a computer virus manifesting as a bisexual character, the entity currently existing in an informational state within this videotape was a genuine, malevolent spirit.

  Furthermore, she was a terrifying entity capable of manifesting as an invisible curse, spreading through images, documents, audio, and text. She possessed immense telekinetic strength, could distort space-time, craft illusions, and manipulate gravity. Her abilities included possessing the living, precognition, resurrection, teleportation, and even dream and thought manipulation.

  While her raw combat power hadn't yet reached the Transcendent level, her inherent danger made her a catastrophic threat to any Low-Ether or low-tech civilization.

  If Sachiko were unleashed upon an Earth where Ether had not yet fully recovered—and assuming the ancient hidden masters of society did not intervene—she could easily decimate nations, spark global chaos, and slaughter millions of ordinary humans.

  "An interesting toy, but nothing more."

  After returning the waiting videotape to her soul body, Seraphine withdrew the Gothic-style Rubik’s Cube: the Lament Box.

  This item, also known as the Box of Sorrow, originated from the Hellring series—a world steeped in an eerie, chilling atmosphere.

  In that universe, there exists a realm of pure evil: a systematic Hell.

  Much like the themes of Cthulhu mythology, humans facing these supernatural powers are utterly insignificant and helpless. Beyond begging for mercy, they possess no means of resistance.

  However, unlike the chaotic nature of Cthulhu's mythos, the horror in this series is exceptionally orderly.

  In this dark domain, everyone—from the lowliest devotees to the Hell Priests led by the High Priest Ellincer, and even the god Leviathan—must strictly adhere to an uncompromising set of rules.

  Ellincer himself is no mere demon; his most powerful incarnations possess strength far beyond typical spirits. In certain adaptations, he even absorbed Leviathan’s power, evolving into a colossal entity capable of shattering planets.

  From this perspective, the potential of the box far exceeded that of the videotape.

  Regarding the rules: the Lament Box, originally a cube, serves as a key. By rotating its segments to alter its shape, one opens a space-time tunnel, warping the surrounding environment to reveal the labyrinthine corridors of Hell.

  The Priests then emerge to drag the summoner back to their realm, subjecting them to unimaginable, eternal torture.

  Should the box be solved into its final rhomboid shape, the god Leviathan itself is summoned.

  These denizens of Hell do not act for profit; they are researchers of the "art of suffering," seeking the ultimate boundaries of pain.

  This is a fundamental departure from the traditional concept of Hell.

  Thus, the domain behind the Lament Box is often called the Hell of Pain.

  "Mattu Erice would find this place delightful; it is a perfect match for him."

  Sensing the malevolent aura and spatial fluctuations emanating from the cube, Seraphine placed it back within her soul.

  It was then that a puzzling thought struck her.

  "These three items are all deeply intertwined with the culture of Earth.

  Not only that, but the dozens of items Mobo displayed in his cabinet followed the same pattern.

  They are either from Earth's manga, or Earth's movies."

  Seraphine's brows furrowed deeply. "But why is this the case?"

  She was not the type to simply accept the Parallel Universe Theory as an all-encompassing explanation.

  Setting aside the question of why so many parallel space-times would spontaneously develop worldviews identical to the fictional works of her previous life—manga, cinema, and literature—the sheer scale of the problem was staggering.

  In the infinite expanse of countless of three-dimensional parallel realities, each individual universe possesses a colossal diameter reaching tens of trillions of light-years. Within each of these immense space-times, there exist an unfathomable number of trillions of Galaxies. And within each of those Galaxies, there are tens of millions of intelligent civilizations.

  Each of these civilizations possesses its own vast history, unique aesthetics—be they quaint, magnificent, cold, or bizarre—and its own distinct culture. Consequently, the creative works arising from them—their own versions of stories and entertainment—must be limitless.

  So... why?

  Why such a profound coincidence? Why do these parallel space-times so consistently produce entities and events that exist only within the entertainment media of her previous life on Earth?

  One must remember that Earth—the Earth of her past—was merely an unremarkable planet orbiting an ordinary star in a vast, indifferent universe.

  Why is it always Earth? Why is human civilization from Earth always the protagonist of reality?

  Is Earth truly the center of the universe?

  As the thought surfaced, Seraphine couldn't help but shake her head with a soft chuckle.

  That was impossible. As a four-dimensional hypersphere—a bounded yet boundless cosmic construct—the universe fundamentally lacks a 'geographical' center. Or rather, every single point in the vast universe is the center. The supermassive black hole at a galactic core is the center; a rural latrine is also the center. Everywhere is the center.

  "So, why this coincidence? Why do these specific things appear before me? Why haven't the cultural artifacts of other alien civilizations ever manifested?"

  Seraphine frowned, lost in thought. "If it were purely a matter of the sheer number of parallel realities, then by probability alone, this remains bizarre.

  If this is not a natural occurrence—not a matter of probability—but something intentionally orchestrated by an individual or a group of beings, then what is the motive? What is the purpose? What could these unknown entities possibly gain from such an immense effort?"

  Buzz... buzz... buzz...

  Suddenly, a slight space-time fluctuation interrupted her contemplation.

  She slowly recollected herself, extending her mental power outward. In the extreme distance beyond the Creeping Sea tributary, she 'saw' a colossal, elongated spherical world—flesh-like in texture—being carried upon the backs of five equally massive, whale-like beasts, soaring leisurely through the boundless void.

  The world of Ansel had arrived.

  ...

  Walking from the prosperous Central Continent of Ansel toward the southwest, after traversing mountains and seas for trillions of miles, one eventually reaches a terrifying Sea of Blood spanning tens of millions of miles.

  Whoosh— Whoosh—

  There, the blood-red tides surged with heavy, rhythmic waves.

  Amidst the boiling foam, shattered bones drifted, rising and falling like the pitiful fates of mortals caught in an indifferent current. Surrounded by these endless skeletons and the crimson expanse, islands of varying sizes vanished into dark clouds and blood-red mists, their true forms hidden year-round.

  No one knew how many ghouls and specters resided upon those mysterious and lethal islands. Nor did anyone know how many tragic mortals were kept captive there, serving as the playthings and sustenance of countless evil spirits.

  This was the domain of one of Ansel's twelve Shining Suns—Flare Star.

  A vast, sanguine ocean.

  Adjacent to this lethal Sea of Blood was a continent perpetually bathed in flickering radiance, a land where night never fell—the Glorious Kingdom.

  This nation was the territory of another Shining Sun level entity—the Holy Sword Sun.

  Sharpness and viscosity; holiness and carnage; light and darkness.

  The coexistence of such diametrically opposed power attributes in the same region naturally bred a deep-seated aversion, leading to violent clashes. It was a total confrontation, escalating from the highest-tier Shining Sun practitioners down to the lowliest subjects of both realms.

  This war between the two nations had raged for millennia.

  By now, it had evolved into an undying, ancestral hatred—a comprehensive enmity ingrained in the collective culture and individual perception of every sentient being. The flames of war between the Glorious Kingdom and the Sea of Blood never extinguished, continuing in a state of chaotic, bloody disarray.

  Consequently, the border regions—where the conflict was most savage—had become Ansel's most notorious slaughterhouses.

  At the same time, these battlefields serve as a "proving ground of fame and fortune" for mercenaries who shed blood with their blades year-round, seeking both renown and rich rewards.

  In the border region of this "proving ground," a colossal fortress—several thousand meters long and forged from millions of grey-black giant stones—floated silently above the boundless, boiling Sea of Blood. From top to bottom, the structure was entwined with tens of thousands of strands of brilliant light, its surface marred by gaping wounds that radiated a heavy sense of history.

  This is the Holy Church Fortress, a front-line advanced base for the Holy Church Legion of the Glorious Kingdom and the demons of the Sea of Blood.

  Its presence here signifies that the flames of war are poised to ignite once again.

  Within a towering observation post at the center of this fortress—a structure so vast it resembled a miniature city—stood a robust young man in armor. A golden cloak fluttered gently behind him, and layers of Witchcraft spiritual light swirled vaguely around his form. He gazed intently through a narrow observation slit at the thick, dark clouds drifting over the crimson sea, several hundred miles away.

  His gaze was as sharp as a divine arrow. Even the dark clouds, surging as thick as city walls across the boundless Sea of Blood, could not obstruct his icy, piercing stare—a look filled with chilling intent.

  Under his intense focus, a hundred ghouls on a desolate island near the sea cliffs, far beyond the dark clouds, were suddenly seized by intense pain, as if pricked by needles and stabbed by knives. Overcome by panic, they lost their usual ferocity and fled in all directions like startled birds.

  In the distance.

  "The long-renowned Sea of Blood, indeed..."

  After a long silence, the brilliant light of Witchcraft that had flickered in the youth's eyes slowly faded.

  He chuckled softly, muttering: "How much mental power value and how many calculation points will you bring me?"

  In truth, this youth was not a native of the world of Ansel.

  He was originally an ordinary unemployed youth from a distant space-time known as "Earth," who had died of food poisoning in a rented room thirty years ago. After death, his soul transmigrated to this land.

  Had circumstances remained unchanged, he likely would have lived an honest, ordinary life—much like his previous existence: arduous, uninteresting, and plain.

  But perhaps it was an act of fate's benevolence—a mercy toward a previous life lived like a sewer rat.

  After transmigrating, once the initial years of childhood stupor had passed, he suddenly discovered that a super-brain chip had manifested in his mind. This chip possessed powerful functions: perfect memory, high-frequency thinking, data summarization, phenomenon analysis, model construction, and simulated deduction.

  With the assistance of this Black Technology Chip, the youth—born into a noble family—mastered the complex and profound Knight's Breathing Method by the age of five, a feat nearly impossible for ordinary people. He even optimized the technique, modifying it into a new version with higher efficiency and stronger capabilities.

  As the years passed, his reputation as a "genius" spread throughout the mortal nation.

  Living every day amidst the adoration of millions, the once-honest youth grew to love the glory of the spotlight. He thrived on the admiration and reverence of those around him.

  He began to prefer demonstrating his intellect in public, solely to bask in the awe of others.

  Consequently, within just a year or two, he caught the attention of a Witch passing through the kingdom. She took him from the mortal realm and inducted him into a Witch Organization.

  Upon entering the organization and encountering the vast knowledge of the Transcendent world, the youth realized for the first time that even a super-brain chip could struggle.

  Secret Arts, rituals, ceremonies, meditations, runes, ancient incantations, contracts, astrology, numerology, summoning...

  Profound knowledge beyond ordinary comprehension overwhelmed him and his chip like a dark ocean.

  Unable to gain a foothold despite his efforts, he finally realized a harsh truth: although he possessed Witch potential, neither his mental power level nor his cognitive capacity was particularly high.

  Without the assistance of the chip, he would not even have reached the apprentice level.

  At this time, the Witch who had placed her hopes in him—his mentor—became deeply disappointed by his dismal learning efficiency and his inability to absorb Witchcraft. She turned ruthless and banished him to the back of the organization's dining hall kitchen, assigning him the dirty, laborious task of butchering livestock.

  It was during the process of butchering this livestock that the despairing youth made a joyful discovery: his Super-Brain Chip, which had previously reached its computational limit, had actually begun to see its total power increase.

  Although the growth was marginal, it was genuine.

  Faced with this revelation, his thoughts miraculously did not stray into madness. He realized then that his Super-Brain Chip was capable of being upgraded.

  The method for this upgrade was simple: he had to continuously slaughter sentient beings.

  Furthermore, they had to be beings with a detectable soul power reaction. Mundane things like maggots, flies, worms, or butterflies—as well as plants like cabbages, flowers, and trees—were utterly useless for this purpose.

  And so, the youth endured his exhaustion, gritting his teeth and working relentlessly for an entire month.

  After that month, nourished by the sustained slaughter, his Super-Brain Chip ascended to a new level, and its computational capacity surged instantly.

  Supported by computational power far exceeding ordinary imagination, the youth easily overcame every difficult hurdle that typically plagued an apprentice Witch.

  That year, he had just turned ten.

  From that point on, the youth’s progress became unstoppable.

  The title of "genius," which had once circulated only within mortal nations, gradually began to spread through Witch circles as well.

  The foundation for this continuous advancement was his fanatical devotion to slaughter—an obsession that far exceeded the comprehension of the common crowd.

  Ordinary livestock and wild beasts of the forest were no longer enough to satisfy the chip's requirements.

  The youth began to kill people.

  Bandits, brigands, tyrants, and thieves—all those conventionally deemed "evil" became his primary targets for slaughter.

  It was during this phase of frantic killing that the youth’s worldview and perception of reality began to shift.

  Initially, when he took a life, he still adhered to a righteous stance. He was unwilling to kill the good or the innocent by accident.

  However, by the middle stage of his journey, as the body count rose, the youth gradually became desensitized.

  He began to wonder what difference there truly was between a "good" person and a "bad" person, since ultimately, both were destined to die.

  Mortals who lived a few extra decades rarely enjoyed true happiness and often endured a life of hardship, so why shouldn't they contribute their lives to his cause?

  By the later stage, he no longer had the time or the inclination to distinguish between good and evil, nor did he feel the need to justify his actions to himself.

  He simply killed them all.

  In the youth's eyes, once a mortal died, they left behind nothing but a cluster of soul energy for him to devour. The remaining corpse would not move if kicked, nor react if slapped. It was no different from a dead pig in a slaughterhouse.

  What did it matter if he killed them?

  By this point, the distinction between animals and people had blurred completely. To him, they were all just bags of flesh that would drop dead with a single glare.

  At the same time, as his Witchcraft skills improved, the youth came to understand why his Super-Brain Chip experienced the miraculous "computational power upgrade" after he slaughtered sentient beings.

  The explanation was simple: the various functions and calculations of the Super-Brain Chip required "hardware" support.

  That "hardware" was his soul. When dealing with the ordinary knowledge of mortal nations, his undeveloped, ten-year-old soul could manage.

  But after entering the Witch world and facing the complex, mysterious depths of Witchcraft knowledge, his soul power was clearly insufficient.

  Only by slaughtering sentient beings and absorbing their soul power could his soul grow. This, in turn, allowed the Super-Brain Chip—which utilized the soul as its computational "hardware"—to upgrade alongside it.

  In other words, the youth was now a devil in human skin—a soul-devouring demon who viewed the souls of others as mere snacks, swallowing them bit by bit until nothing remained.

  "Unimportant. None of this is important," the blonde youth said with a cold smile. "As long as I keep devouring, my computational power will reach a state of near-omniscience. When that happens, even the Creator God Ansel will be trampled under my feet!"

  Just as he was lost in this ambitious imagination, a burly middle-aged man, also clad in heavy Witchcraft armor, pushed open the door and hurried inside.

  Upon reaching the youth, he bowed respectfully and said, "Good day, esteemed Marquis Walton. The mercenaries have completely assembled in the arena."

  "How many?" Yeck Walton asked coldly, without turning his head.

  "The total number of mercenaries participating in this campaign is one thousand five hundred and seventy-four. Among them, Witch Apprentices are the most numerous at 1,307. First-Grade Witches follow with 233, while Second-Grade Witches are the fewest at thirty-four. There are currently no Third-Grade Witches present," the middle-aged man replied methodically.

  "Very meticulous work, not bad."

  Yeck Walton nodded slightly. "Have they been informed of the reward policy for this campaign?"

  The middle-aged man bowed respectfully. "It has been announced. Now we only await your final pre-battle victory ritual."

  "Then let us go." Walton’s cold expression remained unchanged. He casually flipped his cloak and turned to leave, walking at a brisk pace.

  The burly middle-aged man followed closely, running alongside him as they departed the observation tower.

  Thump, thump, thump...

  The sound of footsteps echoed continuously.

  After leaving the tower, the two moved at extreme speed, leaving trails of afterimages as they descended through the seven winding corridors, floor by floor. Within minutes, they reached the training ground deep within the Holy Church Fortress.

  The scattered mercenaries, standing in small groups across the vast arena, began to whisper among themselves upon seeing Walton arrive.

  "Look, the commander is here."

  "That is Marquis Walton. He is so young."

  "To become a legion commander at such an age... he is truly remarkable."

  "I feel nothing but envy."

  "What do you expect? The man is a genius."

  "He is more than a genius; he is simply a Witchcraft monster."

  "I did not know that. Is the praise truly that exaggerated?"

  "To reach the Third-Grade Witch realm at just thirty years old... wouldn't you call that a monster?"

  "Hiss... that is far too exceptional. When I was thirty, I was still an apprentice."

  Listening to the scattered remarks from the training ground and sensing the shock, envy, and jealousy emanating from the whispering mercenaries, Walton slowly ascended the high platform. The corners of his mouth curled into a faint smile as he chuckled inwardly.

  Yes, this is precisely the feeling. You are all so envious, aren't you?

  Haha, envy me! Envy my genius and my peerless talent!

  In truth, the mercenaries' words were still somewhat conservative. Walton, currently only thirty years old, had already reached the peak of the Third-Grade Witch level. Moreover, he was capable of breaking through the realm's bottleneck at any moment, becoming a Morningstar-Level Witch at thirty. Such a feat was a rare sight in the entire world of Ansel since ancient times.

  "Gentlemen, I am the Ninth Legion Commander of the Holy Church Legion, and the final executive officer of this demon-extermination campaign..."

  Just as Walton was savoring his secret delight, standing pretentiously on the high platform and speaking incessantly, space-time suddenly twisted in an open area at the edge of the training ground.

  Hum...

  Amidst the rippling space-time fluctuations, four mysterious black-robed figures of varying heights appeared out of thin air, gradually manifesting in the sky.

  Peculiarly, such a clear and strange occurrence failed to attract anyone's attention. Not only did the mercenaries standing nearest to the spot fail to notice, but even Walton—who was furthest away yet possessed a vision encompassing the entire training ground—seemed blind to it. He remained completely unaware of the dramatic change occurring right under his nose.

  Even stranger was that the four black-robed figures seemed to have anticipated their invisibility. After landing, they did not attempt to flee but stood silently as if waiting for something.

  Whoosh...

  Suddenly, a dry, cold, and desolate wind inexplicably stirred.

  The wind was not particularly strong, yet it swept up large swathes of dust from the arena ground, causing it to surge skyward. Miraculously, the dust instantly condensed into floating lines of subtitles before the four black-robed figures.