Miss Hebe is Slaughtering Her Way Out of the Lostbelt!

"What are you waiting for? Serve it up already! I can't wait any longer."

Hebe tried clicking on it and discovered a line of small text beneath the new Lostbelt.

"The Side Gate leading to the Lostbelt still requires time before it quietly opens. Estimated waiting time: 48 hours."

"Croak!" Hebe leaned painfully backward, clutching her chest as she collapsed into her chair with a twisted expression.

How in the world was she supposed to endure these forty-eight hours?!

After the emotional roller coaster, Hebe continued reading the Secret History Simulator's update announcement with a crestfallen face.

New official user features added.

Feature: Establish a society—Establish secret societies in different eras and places, devoted to different beings and desires. Recruit capable individuals, elevate them into your disciples, and make them your students, tools, and followers. You may descend upon them at any time through their corresponding cards.

Visit the Wilderness—The Wilderness is a world above reality, accessible only through dreams and rituals. Now, free from the need to enter dreams while awake or perform tedious rituals, we can explore the Wilderness directly in this quick and convenient way.

Security Protection—Tired of endless dream attacks, Fortune-telling, and anti-divination? No problem. Activate the 'Starlight' firewall with one click for a security experience beyond your era!

Summoning Protocol—A qualified secret society cannot always rely on its apprentices to do everything themselves. Cast spirituality into the Wilderness to randomly summon inhabitants from the Wilderness. The results may not always be to your liking, but they are certainly full of fun.

Woodland Whisper—Whisper to the dark woodlands at the outermost edge of the Wilderness, trading one of your secrets at random for another. Perhaps it will be knowledge from a higher existence—or perhaps merely meaningless ravings.

Hebe fell silent for a moment.

Not because it was difficult to understand, but precisely because it was the opposite.

"Isn't this just setting up group chats, surfing the internet, firewalls, cyber fishing, and message bottles?" Hebe's eye twitched slightly. "This simulator is a little too..."

In the end, Hebe still failed to find a suitable word to describe it.

She tried opening the "Establish a Society" feature, and a card suddenly appeared on the dark green desktop.

Acquaintance "Mostima"

A messenger; a clockmaker; a senior inspector serving in the Special Inspection Department; an apprentice who inherited the great glory of her bloodline. Could all these circumstances coexist? At the very least, she had never denied her interest in time and history. (You may recruit this acquaintance as your follower.)

Against the card's deep violet background was a portrait of Mostima smiling with narrowed eyes—though she was smiling, she gave off a distant air.

"A senior inspector in the Special Inspection Department?" Hebe froze.

She did not understand the internal hierarchy of the Special Inspection Department, but even from the literal meaning alone, it was clear that Mostima was no minor figure within it.

So Mostima had opened a clock shop on Church Street... perhaps it truly was just a personal hobby?

"Alright, alright." Hebe muttered, moving the mouse toward the card for the acquaintance "Mostima."

"Even if I don't recruit you, it'd still be good to find out what's going on—"

The instant Hebe clicked the card, a translucent window silently popped up. An empty card slot in its center glowed faintly.

She dragged the card and placed it into the vacant slot.

Then the entire desktop began to refresh, and Hebe's consciousness crossed an immense distance in an instant.

When she opened her eyes once again, her senses had already synchronized with Mostima's.

Of course, Hebe also confirmed that she could switch her perspective to third person at any time.

This was a stretch of flat land near a river, with a circular ritual ground built from piled rubble at its center.

They stood in the middle of this ritual ground. Dozens of simple braziers had already been arranged around them, though none had been lit yet. It looked as if some kind of ritual was about to begin.

A gentle male voice came from the front.

"Are you ready?"

"Are you ready?" The silver-haired man in a priest's robe turned around and asked his teammates.

Leμian, with her light pink hair and gentle demeanor, raised an arm to indicate that she was fully prepared.

On the other side, Fiammetta—tall, dressed in a work jacket, with flame-red hair—sighed and pulled a lighter from her jacket pocket, gripping it in her hand.

His gaze swept across his teammates before finally settling on Mostima's somewhat dazed face.

"Mostima, you seem to be in poor condition. Do you need to rest a while longer?" he asked with concern.

"No, it would be better to make haste." Mostima rubbed her brow as she answered. "This is the most suitable time to perform the ritual."

"She is quite right, Mr. Andon." The man who had remained silent in the distance suddenly spoke. "We must hurry. The gates at the border will not remain open forever."

Andon nodded. "Very well. Since Sir Bedivere has already made his judgment, we should not delay any longer."

"Leμian and Fiammetta, please light the braziers around us. Then Mostima will invoke the power of the Ninth Consul, Celestial Flint, to forcibly break open the gate leading to the border—Cape of Birds."

Throughout the entire process, Hebe remained silent.

Her gaze quickly swept over Mostima's companions before settling on the indistinct figure in the distance.

That must be the current Bedivere, Hebe thought.

Then she saw Andon remove the horn hanging at his waist, bring it to his lips, and blow a long, deep note.

The instant that low horn call rang out, Mostima's voice also sounded from nowhere.

Her voice was high and clear, rising and falling against the horn's deep tone. "I! Hereby beseech Celestial Flint!"

These words were sharp and continuous, like tightly meshing gears. Though it was hard to make out each individual word, Hebe could clearly understand their meaning.

"Lord of Great Works, Ender of the Eternal Night, King of Forging Stars! He transforms all, accomplishes all, destroys all; every order of the old world shall be shattered!"

As Mostima chanted, the flame of the torch Fiammetta held in the distance suddenly blazed with extraordinary brightness, its temperature soaring in an instant.

"His change shall be as irresistible as dawn. Change, to Him, is yearning, ardent longing, and remembrance. Those who follow Him today shall become flame tomorrow; that which cannot be burned within flame is the great work."

Fiammetta swung her torch, and the flames traced bizarre patterns through the air, swaying ceaselessly without going out.

"With the secret history sealed within this place, with secrets tangled beyond count, forge the key that opens the border! The path I seek is the road to Cape of Birds. Holy be the great Celestial Flint!"

Fiammetta roared and hurled the torch straight toward the open ground at the center of the ritual site!

The flames swiftly devoured the torch, hovering eerily in midair before spreading outward at incredible speed, carving brilliant, dazzling trails through the air.

"Quick! Charge in! The gate is open!"

Andon took the lead, passing directly through the circle of spreading flames. His figure vanished into the night at once.

The rest of the team followed close behind through the ring of fire. Only "Bedivere," standing deep within the shadows of the undergrowth, remained where he was, then began issuing orders in an orderly fashion.

He did not seem worried in the slightest about the safety of the Special Inspection Department team members who had rushed into the border—Cape of Birds.

Moths Find Light in the Dark

Beyond the gate of burning flames, the laws by which the world operated were utterly different.

—The formerly dim night sky was now filled with cobalt-blue starlight: dreamlike, weightless, and brimming with temptation.

In contrast to the cobalt-blue sky stood the dark, silent black oak forest all around them.

The shadows of the trees lay scattered, branches growing freely overhead. The stones beneath their feet were covered in slick moss, while pale mist drifted between the trees like silent ghosts.

"Since this is a 'border,' part of it exists in the present world, while another part exists in the form of dreams. Mortals sometimes visit bizarre and fantastical worlds in their dreams. That is the result of the border brushing past their dreams."

"To enter the wilderness, one must undergo long training to control lucid dreams. Borders, however, permit apprentices to enter in the flesh—but that requires harsh rituals, as well as the invocation of power from higher beings..."

Mostima's consciousness slowly rippled outward as she recounted this knowledge concerning borders one point at a time.

"So, who exactly are you?" Mostima stood among the trees, her brows tightly furrowed.

Hebe could sense Mostima's emotions. She was not as calm as she appeared; intense confusion and wariness surged within her like ocean tides... She had mistaken Hebe for some higher-order being.

That did not matter.

Hebe tried to make her voice as detached and grand as possible.

Keep thinking. Other than that, simply explore as you originally planned.

Having received no answer to her question, Mostima's heart sank bit by bit.

As she started walking, she began considering when exactly she had caught the attention of a higher being.

"My body shows no abnormalities, so it isn't 'Parasitism' from a path under the Principle of the Wing. He seems capable of reading my consciousness, so it should be 'Descent' from a path under Lamp's Principle... Is it the 'Sage' path governed by Mr. Day, or the 'Notarization' path governed by Lord Twilight?"

Mostima cautiously entertained the thought, but the nameless being did not care about her speculation.

Maintaining such concealed thoughts was difficult. After receiving no response, Mostima's thoughts naturally drifted elsewhere.

"...This border lies within a Druidic Order ritual site. Before the Orthodox Church spread into Albion, the Druidic Order was greatly revered by both the royal court and the common people. Members of the Druidic Order were called 'Druids,' a word meaning 'sages who understand the wisdom of oak trees.'"

"According to legend, the most famous and greatest Oak Sage was Merlin Ambrosius. He assisted King Arthur in drawing the Sword in the Stone, guided King Arthur in founding Albion, and helped Albion survive disaster after disaster."

"It is said that when Merlin left the mortal world, he left behind many 'trial sites' across Albion. By passing those trials, one could obtain the legacies left behind from King Arthur's era..."

Ah... Hebe was momentarily speechless.

She remembered that she had indeed done such a thing back then. Full of enthusiasm, she had dragged Arthur and Morgan along to bury all sorts of unimportant yet interesting items, setting up maliciously playful puzzles over them and calling them "trials."

"But this place isn't a trial site I set up myself," Hebe thought.

Hebe's silence did not affect Mostima.

Mostima cautiously pushed aside the shrubs blocking her path, stepped over stones coated in slick moss, passed through layers of grim tree shadows, and headed toward the faint light in the distance—the cobalt-blue glow scattered through the far reaches of the oak forest, leading the way like shattered sapphires.

The closer she drew to the light beyond the woods, the more clearly she could hear a clamor.

The clearing outside the oak forest was littered with jagged reefs.

Wanghai Cliff stood alone in the distance, like the exposed bones of the land.

Thousands upon thousands of birds of the same color circled in the air, trembling their wings as they descended, or suddenly beating them and soaring up like gusts of a whirlwind. Wave after wave of birds blotted out the sky, stretching across sea and heaven like a heavy iron curtain, or like a dark, torrential storm.

Andon stood in the open space amid the reefs, his hands tucked inside his sleeves.

When he heard Mostima's footsteps, he turned his head slightly, then turned to face her.

"You got here quickly too." He coughed softly. "It would've been better if you'd arrived later. A little later, Mostima."

Before he had finished speaking, Leμian emerged from another side of the oak forest. She had gained several scratches, and it was obvious that crossing the woods had taken considerable effort.

The instant she saw Andon, relief appeared on Leμian's face.

Yet just as she was about to step toward him, Mostima raised a hand. "Leμian, don't go over there."

Andon let out a sigh.

"Why go that far?"

He stared at Mostima and Leμian, his eyes filled with sorrow.

Now, even Leμian could sense that something terrible must have happened to Andon.

"You pity me? No. In truth, I should be the one pitying you."

"Don't listen to him!" Mostima shouted.

Yet the voice did not come from Andon's chest, but... from all directions.

It was clearly the sound of birds flapping their wings, which Mostima and Leμian had been hearing ever since they arrived here.

The clamorous beating of wings was like a torrential downpour, while Andon's voice became incomparably clear. Even with their ears covered, they could still hear him distinctly.

He said, "When I was young, I was always plagued by doubts. Why were those who toiled so diligently denied food and clothing? Why did those who were lazy and refused to work instead fill their coffers? Why did the poor suffer ever greater hardships, while the wealthy rose ever higher in status... If everything they possessed had been earned through their own actions, then it would have been reasonable. But why were those who reaped without sowing instead elevated above all others?"

He said, "As I grew older, those doubts became like embers beneath ash. Though they did not show themselves, they smoldered without end. Until I learned of the Wasteland, learned of the principles, and followed my nature onto this path... I believed the Chalice's teachings could save those in suffering, that her abundance would surely redeem the ignorant. For that, I labored bitterly within the Orthodox Church, waiting for the day my aspirations could be realized."

He said, "Yet reality was cruel, merciless in the end. All manner of human obligations, all manner of shackles. Society was like a rein around my neck. It would not let me gallop freely, but instead forced me to bow and scrape, to lower my head before those above me... Only then would they reward me with scraps from their table, only then would they grant me high rank and generous pay. Not only the Special Inspection Department—even the Orthodox Church was the same."

He said, "The incapable stood above, while the capable were kept below. The hierarchy was plainly inverted, yet they crowned it with the noble name of order. People often said the Chalice was merciful, the Chalice was bountiful, the Chalice was great, the Chalice never forgot... But they were all wrong. The Chalice delighted in suffering. She delighted in seeing you and me struggle bitterly in this world like insects, churning within her vessel. What Paradise was this? This was clearly hell!"

Andon's body finally straightened. Bloody tears flowed from his eyes like living things, carving foul, blood-scented cracks across his grief-stricken face.

Blood-red eyes, each like a pearl, shifted nimbly from side to side within the two vertical slits.

A pair of tiny arms, like an infant's limbs, broke free from beneath Andon's ribs. They passed through the tattered priestly robe, dripping with blood as they swayed through the air, grasping and clawing.

"Therefore, I loathe this world. Therefore, I renounced my faith in the Chalice. A moth found the light in the darkness of night. So did I."

Flocks of birds gathered and circled overhead.

Mostima's heart sank uncontrollably.