Miss Hebe is Breaking Out of the Lostbelt!

You wouldn't want to fire off your beam cannon, then come home to find Arthur already sitting at the dinner table waiting to eat, would you?

—By the way, you're tonight's dinner.

A lingering fear appeared on the young shopkeeper's face.

She got up to pour herself a glass of water, then returned to the table and opened the Secret History Simulator again. Mostima's card was still flashing steadily, and when she opened it, she found that Mostima had already escaped danger.

At that moment, Hebe noticed that beneath Mostima's card in the card slot, there seemed to be another new card.

When she opened the card slot, the blank card automatically lit up.

Invisible, abstract brushstrokes sketched Arthur wearing a crown and raising a sword high. With only a few strokes, they captured her majestic yet gallant features.

For fuck's sake, Arthur was still chasing me!

Hebe twitched at the corner of her mouth and opened the card.

Acquaintance: "Arthur"

By day, she walked the path of Authority; by night, she walked the path of the Sun. The Knights of the Round Table beneath her command carried out her orders and called forth the dawn. Yet she still longed for the return of her queen. She believed that afterward, Albion would enter an even more glorious age—like gold, like eternity.

Squinting, Hebe dragged the card into a corner.

Let's look at the other, more interesting functions instead.

First was "Establish a Secret Society."

Since Hebe already had followers of her own, this function had now been unlocked.

"But Miss Mostima is probably too busy dealing with her own problems right now, isn't she?" Hebe narrowed her eyes. "And now that I think about it, I'm in modern society. I don't particularly need a secret society either..."

The same went for "Dream Entry into the Wasteland."

Hebe did not urgently need to obtain anything from the Wasteland, but she still invested a little spirituality into dreaming and watched several lines of text gradually appear.

You cast a little spirituality through the Wasteland's Side Gate. Following the Power Struggle of passion and reason, you passed along the road of familiar dreams. The moon shone proudly between your feet, guiding your way. You remembered this dream: a road winding through mountain ranges, where bright silver air bore you aloft.

Your spirituality groped through a savage darkness. In the process, you forgot all wisdom that did nothing to aid your survival. Useless knowledge harms the world; you practiced this teaching. Darkness pressed heavily down from overhead. You crawled on the ground, utterly casting aside your former identity as a human.

Within the dark Woodland, in this realm of chaos, you were a snake living among the shrubs. You lived according to the decrees of the regent who governed the Woodland. Time had no meaning here, and in the blink of an eye, you had grown to adulthood.

The Woodland was forever dark. Eyes were not only superfluous here, but often dangerous. You were unwilling to live among your own kind, and unwilling to submit to the rule of the other lords of the Woodland. Instead, you roamed freely through the Woodland in search of food.

The Wheel of Seasons turned without pause. You had gained some renown in the Woodland, and many weaker inhabitants of the Woodland received your aid, calling you the "Great Serpent Who Knows the Roads of the Woodland."

Time in the waking world and in dreams often underwent violent shifts. As the boundary of the Wasteland, the Woodland suffered the most severe effects.

The Wheel of Seasons' hand hung over December, the month of the Duke of Sighs. The hearthfire was dying, and frost was Silent and Solemn. Under the Duke of Sighs' influence, the Woodland gradually sank into deathly stillness. You excavated a path into the depths of the Woodland, allowing many inhabitants of its outskirts to survive. In awe, they bestowed upon you the honored name of Path Excavation.

Your honored name gradually spread from the Wasteland into the waking world. Some sorcerers would invoke your honored name in rituals to open certain hidden gates.

The Wheel of Seasons' hand pointed to February, the month of Scar Father. Warriors sharpened their blades and loudly cursed their enemies around bonfires. Many lords of the Woodland began warring against one another. You were neither a lord nor sworn to any other lord. Thus, several lords called upon their vassals and launched a campaign against you first.

You fought and killed one of those lords, but your own wounds were too severe. You fell into the Sea of Silence, becoming an inconspicuous footnote beneath the Duke of Sighs' pen.

Only when your spirituality passed through the gate of dreams again did you recall what you had gained in the dream.

Obtained: Path Excavation—although the "Serpent Who Knows All Roads of the Woodland" had long since passed away, its honored name still held power. This was because the Duke of Sighs remembered every name in the world and stored them safely away. Reciting this honored name during any ritual could increase the ritual's success rate.

Path: Return to Woodland—during your next dream entry, you may choose to begin a new birth from the Woodland.

The Wheel of Seasons awaits its next turn, until the first day of next month arrives.

Spirituality was a difficult thing to quantify. It was closely tied to one's mental state, the weather, and the environment.

An apprentice who had completed their studies needed at least a week of advance preparation for the relevant ritual before they could attempt deep sleep and carry out an initial exploration of the Wasteland.

Such an exploration lasted roughly fifteen to thirty minutes. Going beyond that limit carried the risk of getting lost or losing control.

Afterward, the apprentice needed another two to three weeks of rest at minimum to completely soothe their agitated spiritual body.

If the time needed afterward to digest what they had gained from the Wasteland was included, then even a naturally gifted apprentice needed around half a year at the very least before conducting a second Wasteland exploration.

That was assuming everything went smoothly.

If an apprentice encountered a higher being in the Wasteland, came across a special secret realm, or was pursued by Wasteland inhabitants with malicious intentions... then the subsequent treatment and recovery would take even longer.

Hebe had only spent a little spirituality, yet she could enter dreams every month without any loss.

"This is what a real simulator is!"

Hebe closed her eyes, raised both hands, and revealed an intoxicated, delighted smile.

"I'm the true master of dream entry. None of you are..."

With the fruitful results of Dream Entry into the Wasteland before her, Hebe began to look forward somewhat to "Summoning Protocol"—in other words, occult fishing.

Summoning Protocol

Invest spirituality into the Wasteland to randomly summon an inhabitant from the Wasteland.

The lineage you possess will slightly increase the probability of summoning a nightmare.

Hebe instantly cried foul. So this wasn't occult fishing—it was occult card pulling!

Card-pulling games only cost money, but this cost your life.

If an ordinary person suddenly lost ten points of spirituality, they would be listless and drained at best; at worst, they would lose consciousness and collapse into sleep.

Although apprentices possessed considerable spirituality, it was more specialized, and even less something to squander casually in a place like this.

Hebe tentatively fed a bit of spirituality into the translucent card slot to test the waters.

Sure enough, she didn't fish up anything at all.

"From now on, I'll only put in a little spirituality each day." Hebe set a rule for herself. "I'll treat it as chumming the waters."

Chumming the waters was still chumming the waters, even in mysticism.

Next, she turned her gaze to "Woodland Whisper."

"So, what sort of talent do you have?" Hebe murmured with great interest.

She tapped the card slot representing Woodland Whisper, and a passage of text emerged.

The woodland lay at the outermost edge of the wasteland. Whisper to the dark woodland beyond the wasteland's edge. Randomly exchange one of your secrets for another—perhaps knowledge from a higher existence, or perhaps merely meaningless babble.

"Any secret will do?" A teasing glint flashed through the girl's dark green eyes.

"Ahem... I actually never finished college."

As her words fell, a translucent card appeared on the dark green tabletop.

Someone's Secret

Aspect: Winter

A matter left unmentioned ought to be difficult to speak of, yet it had now been voiced.

After the translucent card was placed into the slot, it slowly began to burn. An invisible needle started to spin, and just as the card burned completely to ash, a new card appeared.

When Hebe opened it, a woman's voice, tinged with madness, sounded in her headphones.

"—After all these years, I became the Lord of Years of Sicily. Yet the doubt in my heart, like lingering embers, never faded.

Lapland Saluzzo, the reckoner, should not have become the leader of those who trafficked in years. The one who should have become the Lord of Years was the exile, Celina Texas.

Then there is only one possible conclusion. Lapland ought to be an existence that serves Celina."

Hebe finally couldn't hold it in any longer and burst out laughing.

Woodland Whisper's cooldown was likewise a full day.

For Hebe, listening to Woodland Whisper once a day was quite entertaining.

But today, she had no leisure for that, because the new Lostbelt had been fully unlocked.

On the dark green tabletop, a card depicting a desert and pyramids glimmered faintly.

"Secret History Simulator 1.0 welcomes your login, Knower."

"The gateway to the Lostbelt Golden Truth Dream: Lost Sand Sea Kingdom has opened. You may enter and begin your strategy at any time."

"No method of strategy will result in true death."

"Until a certain level of progress has been reached, you cannot bring in rewards obtained from other Lostbelts."

"Until a certain level of progress has been reached, your true name within the Lostbelt will be hidden."

Hebe took a deep breath and dragged the card of the desert and pyramids into the card slot.

"Current Lostbelt—Golden Truth Dream: Lost Sand Sea Kingdom. Current progress: 0%."

"The god-king who ruled the Great Red Sand Sea would touch upon taboo, yet his great undertaking would ultimately reach the heavens. Now, above the ruins of the Eternal Oasis, Ozymandias's mad boasts still echoed."

"Please record your story. In the end, we shall cross the yellow sands and journey to the far shore of Old Days' glory."

The dark green tabletop suddenly expanded, pulling Hebe's consciousness inside.

The space around her gradually darkened. When it brightened again, her surroundings had already changed completely.

The sky was a deep blue.

A warm breeze swept over the rolling dunes nearby and the low, flat-roofed houses. The pleasant climate made Hebe almost think she had arrived in Jiangnan during Zhendan's spring.

Based on the preliminary information provided by the Secret History Simulator, she concluded that this Lostbelt was likely based on ancient Egyptian civilization, but its environment was clearly somewhat different from what she knew.

In ancient Egypt—or Kemet, as they called themselves, meaning "Black Land"—

Due to the climate, most people chose to shave their heads and wear wigs when they went out. During certain seasons, both men and women simply went bare-chested, wrapping only a piece of white cloth around their waists.

Children did not even wear that strip of cloth, running through the streets completely naked.

But the temperature here was neither dry nor scorching. It was much milder and more pleasant; to put it simply... it was as if the central air conditioning had been turned on.

Hebe was currently dressed in a long linen tunic, her slender arms and calves exposed to the air. To keep the fine sand and gravel from scraping her soles, she also wore a pair of strapped sandals.

She tried opening her status panel, but only a few words appeared.

Hebe Stanton / Imma (true name hidden)

That was her current status.

Ancient Egypt had passed through ten periods, from the Predynastic Period to the Ptolemaic Dynasty. Under normal circumstances, Menes was regarded as the pharaoh who unified Upper and Lower Egypt and founded the First Dynasty.

However, Hebe remembered that by the time she had transmigrated, scholars in her previous life seemed to have already proposed the concept of Dynasty Zero—that Scorpion King Narmer, rather than Menes, was the pharaoh who had unified Egypt earlier.

Though neither Narmer nor Menes was nearly as famous as their descendants. When it came to the most legendary pharaohs, they were naturally Tutankhamun and Ramesses II.

The former was an Eighteenth Dynasty pharaoh who lived eighteen hundred years after Menes. He died at a young age, yet became widely known because of the "mysterious curse."

The latter was the third pharaoh of Ancient Egypt's Nineteenth Dynasty, and Egypt reached the height of its prosperity under his rule.

Ozymandias, meanwhile, was the Greek name later used for him by the Ptolemaic dynasty.

But the reason a Lostbelt was called a Lostbelt was precisely because it had diverged from true history.

Suddenly, a low cry broke the silence.

The surroundings abruptly grew even darker, so much so that Hebe could barely make out anything around her. All she could see was a hunched man walking toward her.

Hebe narrowed her eyes slightly and warily took two steps back.

The man did not notice the small movement, because he stumbled and fell by the roadside.

"Hey, you! Come here! Come here!"

The man lying by the road shouted hoarsely at Hebe.

Hebe walked over. A thick stench of blood hit her face, and by the light of the torch on the wall, she saw that something had gnawed through the man's calf, exposing stark white bone.

The man appeared to be a warrior. When he saw Hebe, disappointment crossed his face, but he quickly forced himself to rally.

He raised his face and fumbled to unfasten the sword at his waist, then handed it over with trembling hands.

Hebe crouched halfway and took the sword.

"Take it!" The man handed her a flat canteen and a small bundle. "There's some dried meat inside too. I have no use for it anymore—you can eat it on the road."

He leaned against the wall of a house.

"Head northwest! Go to Memphis! But you can only stay on the road—don't wander off..."