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Alger and a few sailors circled around the ruin in the environment of a withering winter, but they still failed to discover anything of value.

“Captain, batches of adventurers have come here before. What else could they have left us?” Finally, a sailor in his thirties impatiently broke the silence.

This resonated with his other companions as they echoed, “A place that didn’t take us much time to learn about can definitely be easily found by others.”

“That’s right, that’s right. Let’s continue to f**k the Feysacians!”

“Captain, are you trying to make this place a stronghold?”

Alger slowly scanned the area, quelling the sailors to stop their complaints under his gaze and making them choose to obey.

After a few seconds of silence, he said, “I plan on using this place to ambush the Feysacians.

“Let’s observe the terrain and see if it’s suitable.”

With such an excuse, the sailors barely perked up, and the group quickly entered the depths of the elven ruins.

As he walked, Alger’s spiritual perception was triggered as he subconsciously looked behind a gigantic tree.

There were some signs of churning in the soil over there, and it wouldn’t take more than a year.

Alger retracted his gaze and pretended not to notice anything amiss. He naturally looked elsewhere.

After exploring the elven ruins, they returned to their new camp.

At that moment, it was almost evening and the forest was getting colder. Alger had dinner with the sailors before leaving two patrolling guards behind, and then all of them entered their respective tents.

The cold wind blew through the trees, causing the bonfire to sway. Alger, who had wanted to leave the campsite in the middle of the night, suddenly heard faint singing from afar.

The voice was ethereal, like a woman humming and singing slowly, relating her inner thoughts.

This made Alger involuntarily recall the past. He recalled his mother who had long passed away, and the days when he was a bullied child.

Indescribable grief surged from the bottom of his heart, preventing him from waking up immediately. He waited for a few seconds before he suddenly sat up, frowning and listening.

This time, he didn’t hear anything. That melodious voice seemed to have never happened.

Alger narrowed his eyes, grabbed his thick jacket, and put it on. He walked out of the tent and came to the bonfire.

The two sailors in charge of night duty had just finished their patrol and were drawing warmth from it.

“Did you discover anything unusual?” Alger asked in a deep voice.

The two strong, vigorous sailors shook their heads.

“No.”

Alger’s brows relaxed a little as he turned around, intending to make his own rounds.

At this moment, he noticed something from the corner of his eye.

The two sailors were too close.

If it were any ordinary pirate, this wouldn’t have been a problem. However, Alger’s subordinates had undergone formal training through the Church of the Lord of Storms. They definitely knew that, in such an environment, the patrol team had to maintain a certain distance from each other. They couldn’t be too far or too close. They had to be able to see their companions, as well as prevent themselves from being taken away at the same time from a single assault.

Alger took two steps without batting an eyelid. He turned back and casually asked, “Did you discover anything normal?”

He had changed the question and made it appear very strange.

The two strong sailors shook their heads and replied without changing their expressions, “No.”

No... Alger nodded slightly with a relaxed expression.

“Very good.”

He turned around and slowly walked into his tent.

The moment the sailors’ attention on him was cut off, Alger drew out the Blade of Poison and the Gargoyle Glasses. He opened his mouth and prepared to belt out a song.

At that moment, the ethereal voice from before appeared once again. It echoed in Alger’s ears and pierced into his mind.

This was an extremely ancient folk song, spelling out an extreme sense of sadness and melancholy through the singing. It made Alger’s Spirit Body produce pale, non-existent arms that constantly tore at him.

Alger’s expression twisted as his skin began to produce slippery, black fish scales. His dark blue hair stood up one by one as they became abnormally thick.

The thoughts that originally existed in his mind were disrupted by the song and were cut off by the pain. They were unable to take form any further.

Alger fell and struggled on the ground. He squirmed, becoming less and less like a human as he was pushed to the brink of losing control.

Suddenly, the singing stopped. A slightly indifferent voice entered Alger’s ears:

“Some elven blood...

“Then, that shall be all. Use Siatas’s Beyonder characteristic well.”

Alger’s forehead was covered in cold sweat as he slowly got up. He didn’t know when a figure had appeared in the tent.

It was a woman with black hair and exquisite facial features. Her ears were slightly pointy, and her eyes were deep. Her facial features were soft, and she wore a complicated and ancient long dress. Even though she didn’t have the advantage in height, she still gave off an air of superiority.

“...Are you the Elf Queen, Queen of Calamity Cohinem?” A thought flashed through Alger’s mind as he took the initiative to ask.

The woman played with a beautifully decorated golden cup and calmly said, “Haven’t you already met me?”

Alger suddenly recalled the similar singing he had heard on Pasu Island. He recalled seeing a high elf when he entered the underwater coral palace.

After a few seconds of silence, Alger said in a deep voice, “You’re actually still alive.”

At the same time, he silently recited Mr. Fool’s honorific name in his heart, but he didn’t know if it would be effective if he didn’t recite it out loud.

The black-haired woman’s expression remained unchanged as she replied, “It’s very difficult for an angel to perish without encountering an enemy.”

“Then why did you split the characteristics and place yourself to be in a strange state? This makes you need to wait for an opportunity to be resurrected.” Alger had learned of the corresponding situation at the Tarot Club, and now, he was asking out of curiosity, partly to stall for time.

The elven lady suspected to be Queen of Calamity Cohinem snorted.

“Because the divine throne for ‘Storm’ is occupied by Leodero, and I have no way of resisting the ‘Tyrant.’

“Also, the elves are dwindling in numbers. My anchors are becoming increasingly unstable.”

Other people might not know who Leodero was, but Alger knew very well. He didn’t dare continue this topic in the real world.

Just as he was about to ask the Queen of Calamity Cohinem’s goal for coming, the Elf Queen said, “Do you want to become a demigod?”

“She” wants to use my body to revive? “She” wants to use my wish to advance to Sequence 4 and obtain godhood as bait to intrude my body? While Alger was tempted, questions arose in his mind.

Considering how Mr. Fool could cleanse all kinds of corruption, Alger acutely felt that this was an opportunity.

This made him recall a term Emperor Roselle had once mentioned:

A trojan horse!

And now, he had a high chance of bringing in the trojan horse and throwing out the invaders within.

“What do you want me to do?” Alger didn’t appear too anxious as he raised a question based on his personality.

Queen of Calamity Cohinem observed him for a few seconds before saying, “When you have the right to make contact with the Book of Calamity, take out something that no one else will notice, and take it to the Western Continent.”

The Western Continent... The legendary homeland of the elves? Alger frowned slightly and said, “Hasn’t the Western Continent already disappeared?”

The corners of Cohinem’s lips curled up slightly.

“Since it disappeared, it will reappear again.

“It will definitely appear again when the apocalypse happens.”

Without waiting for Alger to ask further, the Elf Queen paused and said, “You don’t have to personally send that item to the Western Continent, but you have to entrust someone trustworthy. Although I’m not skilled at curses, I can still make you die in pain from breaking our agreement.”

“But what if the Western Continent doesn’t appear again, or if it can’t be entered?” Alger thought seriously for a moment.

Cohinem, with her gentle gaze and lustrous raven-black hair, seemed to be lost in beautiful memories.

After a few seconds, she calmly said, “If it really doesn’t appear again, then the agreement shall be null and void.

“Perhaps entering the Western Continent requires an incantation or command, but I do not know what it is. However, you can ask a particular existence.”

“Who?” Alger asked, puzzled.

Cohinem glanced at him and coldly said, “The Mr. Fool you were chanting in your heart just now.

“I have a feeling that ‘He’ is the key to this matter.”

Alger’s heart tightened as he hurriedly lowered his head in response.

“I understand.”

Seeing this, Queen of Calamity Cohinem nodded slightly and said, “If you wish to become a demigod and abide by this agreement, you can head to the elven ruins when the sun rises.”

After the voice fell, the Elf Queen’s figure quickly dissipated, like a mirage that was often seen at sea and in the desert.

Alger suddenly opened his eyes and realized that he was lying in a tent, having just woken up.

His memories were in a mess, but he quickly regulated them.

He and his sailors had just found the location of an elven ruin and had yet to explore it.

The previous “exploration,” singing, sailor anomalies, and appearance and conversation with Calamity were all just a dream!

It’s no wonder I was so careless... Even though I knew that I might encounter the Queen of Calamity, I didn’t pray to Mr. Fool first... The Queen of Calamity relied on her status as an angel to create this realistic dream? Or perhaps, she has a corresponding Sealed Artifact. Even if she exists in a special state, she still has the means to use her powers? Alger listened to the commotion outside the tent, and he realized that everything was normal.

He then sat down and prayed sincerely to Mr. Fool.

In just twenty to thirty seconds, Alger arrived above the gray fog and saw Mr. Fool sitting at the end of the long, mottled table.

“You met Cohinem?” After The Hanged Man greeted him, The Fool Klein spoke casually.

Alger answered seriously, “Yes, but I can’t be sure that it’s the Elf Queen.”