The group successfully arrived at the Star-Skiff Jetty.
Here, magnificent buildings with carved beams and painted rafters exuded an ancient charm.
As soon as Tingyun disembarked from the star-skiff, she rushed to a nearby water dispenser and guzzled down water.
After finally quenching her thirst,
the pretty face, which had been parched by an invisible inferno, barely regained a hint of color.
Tingyun's hands trembled as she tidied up her makeup slightly.
Then, she pointed to the most opulent building ahead, her voice hoarse from dehydration.
"Honored benefactors, that is the headquarters of the Sky-Faring Commission—the Palace of the Divine Foresight. Shall we go meet Lady Yukong now?"
Welt Yang's gaze shifted from Phainon to Tingyun, and he said gently,
"Meeting the Six Charioteers is a significant matter, and we would like to prepare a little. Miss Tingyun, please inform them first; we will arrive shortly."
A flicker of difficulty crossed Tingyun's eyes, but she quickly put on her usual affable smile.
"Alright..."
She took one last deep look at Phainon, then left alone, her figure graceful.
Not until her enchanting silhouette completely disappeared around the street corner did Welt Yang suddenly turn, his gaze fixed on Phainon.
"What exactly happened between you and that ferry guide? Although I haven't been trailblazing for a long time, it doesn't mean I know nothing."
"The way you treated her all this time, almost tormenting her, cannot be explained by your'sense of humor'!
"
Phainon finally spoke, but his answer was irrelevant to the question.
"I'm not entering the Palace of the Divine Foresight. Afterward, I will act alone."
Welt Yang's expression completely darkened, his eyes behind his glasses seemingly seeing the future he least wished to witness.
"Is it because of the Stellaron Hunters?"
"Yes." Phainon nodded slightly, acknowledging it. "I was merely a passerby to begin with; the Express was just a temporary stop for me. This was our initial agreement."
Welt Yang shook his head slightly.
"Stellaron Hunters—a group that claims to be slaves of destiny, leading a bunch of reckless lunatics, pursuing the most dangerous things in the world. That's Herta's evaluation of them!"
The next moment, he chuckled self-deprecatingly, his laughter filled with an unshakeable weariness.
"Now I somewhat understand why Kafka sought you out. There's a similar scent about you two."
Phainon didn't deny it. "Mr. Welt, from the very beginning, I had no room to lose. I had to obtain all the power I could."
"Even if the cost is to burn away everything I have left, I... simply don't care."
At this moment, Welt Yang's vision blurred.
The black-robed figure before him and the pale figure in his memory, who had walked step by step towards a lonely throne, abruptly overlapped.
Obsession.
An identical obsession.
But this time, Welt Yang's heart didn't stop.
He only felt a deep sense of powerlessness and heartache, as an elder.
He stepped forward, his tone no longer accusatory but rather a seasoned person's advice:
"Don't be consumed by obsession, Phainon. At the end of that path... there is nothing."
Phainon slowly turned his head, his eyes beneath the mask as calm as a Dead Sea that never freezes:
"But it is the only motivation for me to live."
He turned to leave, preparing to merge into the bustling crowd.
A cold voice drifted over, clear despite him not turning around.
"Remember. Beware of Tingyun."
As his words fell, his figure merged into the shadows like a ghost, leaving no trace.
March 7th and Star, who had been eavesdropping for a while, immediately came over.
"Uncle Yang, where did Phainon... go again?" March 7th's face was filled with worry.
Star tilted her head, poked Welt Yang's arm, and asked seriously:
"Uncle Yang, is your heart okay? Was he deliberately trying to annoy you again? But don't mind him; I'll deal with him for you back on the Express."
Welt Yang didn't answer. He just raised his hand and pressed his throbbing temples.
"Let's go. Let's not keep Lady Yukong waiting too long."
...Meanwhile.
Cloudford, a secluded cargo port.
Phainon emerged from the shadows.
He opened his palm, and an ancient-looking jade ornament lay quietly within it.
This was not a trophy, but a token he had pilfered from Phantylia when her mind was distracted while he was 'grilling' her.
Any issues, take them up with Zagreus!
First, he would impersonate Chief's secret envoy to contact Phantylia, and then use Phantylia's identity to intimidate the The Disciples of Sanctus Medicus.
Dual identities, playing both sides.
Thus, he could hold all the undercurrents of the entire Luofu in his grasp.
Ultimately, he would create a perfect, undisturbed stage for him and Phantylia.
And now, it was time to meet these followers of abundance.
[Current Emotion: Rational]
Based on the memories buried in his mind and his deductions of these fanatics' behavior patterns, this secluded port was their most likely rendezvous point.
Phainon put away the jade ornament and walked forward.
At this moment, a group of devotees dressed in brocade and with fanatical eyes were gathered here, praying in low voices.
Phainon's figure approached silently.
He didn't even draw his sword.
The next moment.
Boom—!
An invisible, scorching pressure, as if it would ignite the soul, swept across the entire port!
The followers of the The Disciples of Sanctus Medicus didn't even see who the newcomer was; they all lay prostrate on the ground, unable to move.
Pure, violent, unreasonable... suppression.
Phainon slowly walked up to them and spoke in a cold tone, "The Shizhe previously in charge of the Sunken Ruins Dock perished at the hands of outsiders."
"Phantylia is... very displeased about this. So, she sent me to handle the aftermath."
He paused. "After all, your capabilities are truly incompetent."
"Who... who are you?!" A follower lying on the ground struggled to look up and asked in horror, "The dead Shizhe is..."
Before he could finish, a hand had already gripped his neck, lifting him single-handedly into the air.
"Take me to your Chief."
No emotion could be heard in Phainon's voice, yet it sent shivers down the spines of all the followers.
"Don't waste my time. I hate... waiting."
"Yes! Yes!"
The follower suspended in the air immediately cowered in extreme fear, his legs flailing wildly.
"I... we were just about to set off to meet the Chief in the grotto-heaven, but... another squad hasn't arrived yet; we're waiting for them..."
"Hehehehe..."
Phainon laughed.
The laughter was twisted, piercing, and filled with madness.
"I said, I hate waiting!"
Hearing this laughter, the follower's pupils suddenly constricted to pinpricks, and he completely broke down on the spot.
"Depart! Depart now!"