Not paying too much attention to Alger's shock, Bernadette glanced at Bornova, who had already begun inspecting the 'Blue Avenger' ship. A torrent of information gathered in her palm, materializing into a cerulean conch.
Pure white, ethereal feathers grew from both sides of the conch, as if imbued with life. They flapped their wings, carrying specks of starlight, and actively flew into Alger's hand.
"This contains a wisp of my power, consider it compensation for taking the hidden treasure of this ghost ship."
"Besides being able to resolve some dangers you currently can't handle, it can also guide you to an Obninsk for your advancement."
Before Alger could respond, brilliant bubbles surged from the conch, engulfing him and making him vanish from this sky forest.
Bernadette took a step, arriving on the deck of the 'Blue Avenger'. Her eyes, as blue as a condensed ocean, instantly became even deeper, briefly losing focus, as if peering into the torrent of fate.
Behind her, a pair of almost transparent 'Eyes of Mystery Prying' emerged, their indifferent, lashless pupils overlapping with Bernadette's.
Under the blessing of the two authorities, the vague and chaotic directions gradually became clear. At a certain moment, Bernadette saw a silver full-length mirror with intricate patterns and a very classical design.
Congealed blood scabs covered the mirror surface, making it appear dim and lusterless. A tall figure seemed to be faintly discernible within.
As if sensing Bernadette's gaze, the blood scabs peeled off layer by layer, revealing a man in blood-stained black armor with long, blood-red hair.
His resolute and rigid demeanor contrasted sharply with the cruelty and madness filling his azure eyes.
Almost the instant their gazes met, all the images completely shattered.
Invisible pollution and the backlash of fate followed one after another. Bernadette's body swayed, her face paled slightly, and she whispered with a solemn tone:
"Alista Tudor..."
Bornova, sensing the power fluctuation, instantly appeared beside Bernadette. Without a word, he placed his hand on Bernadette's brow, suppressing and dispelling the frenzied will before speaking with a touch of helplessness:
"You're hundreds of years old, why are you still so reckless...?"
Intimidated by his elder sister's aura, Bornova wisely stopped the topic. He lightly coughed, withdrew his hand, and looked around, commenting from a 'Artisan's' professional perspective:
"Very crude refining technique, entirely reliant on the support of high-level authority from residual power. Hmm, at least there's a Weather Warlock characteristic or corresponding Sealed Artifact carrying Alista Tudor's lingering will."
Withdrawing her disdainful gaze from Bornova, Bernadette felt the lingering warmth on her brow, her lips subtly curving. She interpreted the information she had just glimpsed and added:
"The seal here should also be affected by the Black Emperor Pathway's distorted authority, and it clearly exhibits characteristics of utilizing Error, changing positioning, and grafting space."
The siblings exchanged glances, both feeling it was tricky. Using such a clever method, it wouldn't be difficult for them to find the entrance with their authority, but they couldn't guarantee that forcibly breaking in wouldn't damage or lose the treasures, or trigger corresponding chain reactions.
Bernadette pondered for a moment, then immediately took out various spiritual materials and began setting up a sacrificial ritual.
After the long, muffled prayers, the materialized dark-gold double doors slowly opened. The 'Blue Avenger' vanished into the boundless dark-gold mist.
-----------------
South of the Backlund region, on the north bank of the surging Tussock River.
Looking at Rafter Pound, who was completely parasitized, and the text simultaneously translated on Arrodes's mirror surface, Aaron curled his lips.
He was beyond complaining about these persistent Amons, like stubborn plasters. He even imagined Rafter Pound completing the Iron-Blooded Knight ritual with a group of Amons.
At the same time, a faint prayer reached Aaron's ears.
His expression shifted slightly. He manipulated the sub-consciousness left in the Nation of Disorder to respond to the prayer, pondered for a moment, then grabbed Arrodes with one hand and left without hesitation.
This was not the only bloodline of Tudor. There was no need to get involved with Amon again. Moreover, with the Nation of Disorder's uniqueness, he could even forcibly open Tudor's treasure.
Backlund, a certain underground hall.
Rafter Pound, looking up at a certain spot, curled his lips. He retracted his gaze and raised a hand to pinch his monocle.
Behind him, flames, some crimson, some fiery white, some orange-yellow, surged from the entrance, forming a figure.
This figure wore black, blood-stained armor and had shoulder-length fiery red hair. He was young and handsome.
A banner-like blood-red mark grew on his brow, and the mockery on his face was undisguised. It was 'Red Angel' Medici, who had returned from the Forsaken Land of the Gods.
"What a boring trick. I've long said this is meaningless..."
Seeing that Amon had no reaction, Medici tutted and continued:
"Where's your true body?"
"I got some interesting things from the memory of the Iron and Blood Cross Order's leader. Tsk, but this might require your help."
After hearing Medici's words, Amon scratched his chin, guessing what he wanted to do, and chuckled:
"Just because that fellow from the Forsaken Land of the Gods helped you balance the pollution doesn't mean everything's fine. Rashly touching the things beneath Trier, the Paranoiac can't save you before he truly becomes a Visionary."
"As for my true body, tsk, unluckily, I ran into little Zaratul. To celebrate his escape from the Night's imprisonment, we naturally have to have a good chat."
Watching the playful smile on Amon's face, Medici curled his lips and directly left Backlund with this Amon avatar.
He had already incorporated the remaining Iron and Blood Cross Order and begun to re-forge the 'War's Red' army, which was also key to maintaining the pollution's balance.
-----------------
Above the gray fog, Klein looked at Mr. Hanged Man in the prayer scene, who was filled with complex emotions like apprehension and excitement, and sighed with some regret.
No longer thinking about the lost 'Blood Emperor's Treasure', and considering that it was not suitable to stay in the washroom for too long, Klein immediately sank his consciousness and returned to reality.
Putting away the paper substitute, Klein turned on the faucet and began washing his hands.
Immediately after, his movements suddenly paused, and he looked at the washroom mirror directly in front of him with a rather strange expression.
Beneath the misty steam, a line of golden Loen characters abruptly appeared:
"Great Master, your loyal and humble servant Arrodes has finally, finally caught up with your footsteps again!"
"Have you missed your most loyal servant Arrodes?"
A series of vivid emoticons followed. This familiar fawning style made Klein's lips twitch slightly. He resisted the urge to cover his face and responded with a hum: "Mm..."