From Secret Clan to the Divine Dynasty

Soon Byrne and his companions learned that the knight was actually the Deputy Sheriff responsible for maintaining public order in the city.

At the same time, they also discovered something: the historical rifts were ultimately not the real world. Except for the Deputy Sheriff, no one else would communicate with them, and all were like phantasmal existences that were sometimes real, sometimes illusory, and as unfixed as ghosts.

After learning that Byrne and others were physicians living in seclusion nearby, the Deputy Sheriff was still filled with caution and defense, even going so far as to say he wanted to bring in a prophecy-type spellcaster to test whether they had any hostility.

The spellcaster appeared out of nowhere and then cast a prophecy-type spell on the three of them.

The answer, of course, was that there was no hostility.

All three saw the prophecy-type spellcaster subsequently dissipate and vanish, as if he had never existed.

The Deputy Sheriff and the people around him were indifferent to this as well.

Ultimately, it was a fictional world, and deep down they were sure of it.

“Very well. Members of the Flame Tribe all need to contribute to their own race.”

It was not until then that the Deputy Sheriff seemed to let down his guard and agreed to let them treat the sick in the city.

“Healer” type spellcasters were not among the eight major types of spellcasters and were even rarer than the prophecy-type.

Only the “Transformation” type among the main eight types of spellcasters might know some healing spells.

The power that Irene wielded instantly made her the darling of the town.

But interacting with those partly solid, partly spectral projections didn’t feel real at all; she didn’t think she was treating actual humans.

The three of them didn’t care about that either; they were merely looking for the Gate of Shadow as best they could.

Most islands of Spirituality were places where emotions congregated and were often historical rifts that had experienced disasters; they were very aware that their time to stay was limited.

“Where exactly is ‘the most important place’?”

The three pondered this question and thus lingered in the entire city, an ancient city with a distinct architectural style, with a mass of white buildings marked with the symbol of flames.

They could see the ghostlike figures singing and dancing, and they could hear them wildly cursing Empire citizens, almost everyone brimming with immense hatred for the Empire.

Despite their efforts, they gained nothing; the last place they could think of was the Deputy Sheriff’s house.

They could only go together to the Deputy Sheriff’s home, a dwelling made of white marble, which looked not lavish but rather simple.

Inside the house were many shadowy servant figures; they did not stop the three from abruptly showing up.

“Let’s search quickly.”

Having said that, Byrne, Irene, and Grandma Narda started searching, yet they nearly turned the entire house upside down without finding any trace of the Spiritual Gateway.

“Where exactly is ‘the most important place’? Could it be that the answer still lies with him?”

Byrne was at a loss for answers, feeling that the last clue had to be with the Deputy Sheriff, for among the many shadowy figures on the island of Spirituality, only he possessed intelligence close to that of a normal person.

Grandma Narda, observing the surrounding spectral projections, couldn’t help but sigh:

“The Spirit Realm really is too wonderful. Everything feels so strange, it’s just like dreaming, no, even more astonishing than dreaming!”

Byrne felt the same deep in his heart; indeed, this place offered a marvel that couldn’t be experienced in the real world.

Just then, Irene suddenly spoke:

“Be careful! I sense malice nearby!”

They immediately became alert, and Byrne’s eyes shifted slightly—a residual scent memorized by the “Profound Memory” alerted him to who was approaching!

“Why are you in my house?”

Without any warning, the Deputy Sheriff in white armor suddenly appeared near them.

The Deputy Sheriff watched the three intruders with a wary and fierce expression, his hand on the hilt of his sword at his waist, as if he might attack at any moment.

He was the only almost real existence on the island of Spirituality.

Byrne looked at him, thinking maybe it was better to try asking directly; if he couldn’t get the answer, then he’d try other methods. He decided to cut to the chase and asked:

“Could you tell me, where is the most important place in this city?”

“The most important place? You mean, the most important place?”

The Deputy Sheriff suddenly froze, then his face gradually twisted, he grabbed his head and began to tremble uncontrollably, saying in pain and despair:

“It was there! I couldn’t find it back then! If only I had found it sooner!”

“Please, I beg you, help me! Help me guard that most important place!”

Byrne, Irene, and Grandma Narda were all somewhat astonished, the Deputy Sheriff’s mental state was clearly very wrong, and the regret and despair in his speech were like the wails of the dead, or the unwilling roars of those long gone.

They thought he was going mad, but then they saw the Deputy Sheriff’s figure gradually fading away.

At that moment, the surroundings began to change, the multitude of objects in the room seemed to become a tangled mess of chaotic colors, fragmented, then reformed into a new scene.

They suddenly found themselves next to a city wall.

“Why have we come here?”

Then, Byrne realized that the section of the wall before him was gradually cracking and breaking open, revealing a vast dark hole.

Suddenly, the sounds of battle and screams rose all around, spectral visions of Lorne soldiers appeared in the streets, and flames swiftly engulfed many buildings, dyeing the entire skyline a bright red, like a giant beast of raging flames wildly dancing about.

Irene was stunned on the spot, her gaze slightly heavy, as if she had returned to the night Nasir Town was set ablaze by the jungle natives.

“I understand now!”

Byrne suddenly experienced a flash of clarity, realizing that the “most important place” the Deputy Sheriff referred to was the breach in the city wall.

That year, the city must have been broken open from the outside by an Extraordinary Exponent of the enemy, followed by a multitude of Lorne soldiers rushing in overnight, leading to the fall of the entire city.

He took a deep breath and said:

“The city they initially spoke of, fallen into the hands of the Lorne Empire, with tens of thousands dead or captured, seeking blood for blood, is actually this very city beneath our feet!”

Now, the carnage from the rift in history has begun, the emotions of the entire city rapidly intertwining to a crescendo, with the disaster that led to the city’s utter destruction unfolding inexorably.

Suddenly, Irene’s “Listener” alerted her that Lorne soldiers had noticed their location.

She hurriedly shouted, “We must get inside! We can’t stay here any longer! We can’t fight a disaster that destroys the whole city!”

The three rushed into the pitch-black hole, and after emerging on the other side, the scene before them changed completely once again.

To their horror, they saw an endless expanse of white city ruins.

The air was filled with a scent of decay and desolation, most of the buildings’ walls were covered in cracks and damage, and the wind blowing through the doorways made a mournful rustling sound.

Here was the city’s central square, once a gathering place for people, now only a deserted statue and an empty space remained, covered with dust and broken stones, the fountain in the middle completely dried up.

Byrne calmly observed, and it was clear to anyone that this must be a point in time after the city had been plundered.

In the completely ruined city stood the Deputy Sheriff, head bowed in contemplation, holding a rusted blade in his hand, wearing silver-white armor dented all over.

He looked like a defeated hero, his eyes gradually lighting up with a red glow, his tone also becoming deeper.

“Tell me, why couldn’t I find that most important place?”

Grandma Narda asked anxiously, “What do we do now, what do we do? He seems a bit off!”

Irene lowered her head in thought, intending to consider carefully what to respond.

Byrne stroked the blade on his waist and the flintlock, deducing from what he had read in books that the answer to come was extremely important.

The Deputy Sheriff before them could transform into a kind of monster at any moment, the “Tethered Spirit,” a common mysterious existence in the Spirit Realm. They also exist on the Ouden Continent and possess extremely terrifying malice and power.

If their answer was satisfactory, the other party would disperse into the most fundamental spirituality, completely dissipating in the world, and the three would then avoid battle.

Avoiding battle was naturally the best option. Byrne, after a moment of silence and a respectful bow, sincerely said:

“You have lived up to your identity, you are a true knight, a noble, a warrior, who led the people of the Flame Tribe in this city to resist until the last moment of life, so please, rest now.”

They had thought this answer could avoid battle, preventing the subconscious projection before them from mutating into a “Tethered Spirit,” but the words they heard next plunged their hearts straight down.

“No, I’m not a warrior at all, because I surrendered.”

The Deputy Sheriff’s eyes turned completely dark red, his body twisted and swelled, and a black iron mask with a clown’s face emerged on his face, engraved with expressions of mockery and madness!

“The Empire promised me everything! It was I who carved out that big hole!”