Spirit-Venerating Divine Church

The moment Ian touched the Dead River Armament, one hazy mist vortex after another began spinning before his eyes.

Endless light and shadow, along with fragments of bewildering illusions, intertwined and wove together, forming world after world and omen after omen.

Unlike precognitive dreams, unlike that hazy prophecy from eight years ago, what appeared before Ian this time were omens that seemed almost real.

And the first omen soon surfaced before his eyes.

It was a fairly ordinary country tavern, with only its signboard being relatively clean. The weeds before the tavern door stood half a person tall, and there was even a huge hornet's nest in the nearby tree. In the damp air before the rain, hornets flew about anxiously, disturbing passing travelers.

The overly natural surroundings made it clear that this place was in the Southern Ridge.

Especially those hornets, each nearly half a palm in size—they were clearly a Southern Ridge specialty, much like the Southern Ridge Giant Cockroaches nearly as large as shoe soles.

There were only a few drinkers in the tavern, chatting idly. They gathered in their usual corners, drinking cheap ale mixed with distilled Dwarf spirits, discussing everything from household trifles to impassioned matters.

Faintly, words like "Grand Duchy of Solin" and "dead zone" could be heard.

"Have you heard? The Grand Duchy of Solin has completely become a land of death!"

"I know! My uncle has an apprentice from Grand Duke Solin's side. She came back from her hometown a few days ago, and the whole girl went numb. She used to be such a clever lass, but now she doesn't eat all day..."

"That's terrifying. I heard the Imperial Capital used some top-secret extermination-type psychic weapon and killed everyone in the Grand Duchy? Even Blazing Flame Lands doesn't dare get close!"