Traveling with a Saint

Truman looked out and saw a towering mountain range that pierced the clouds, its peak impossible to see.

Further off, several terrifying giant beasts seemed to be writhing, and the distant echo of wolf howls reverberated through the air.

"This place is actually not far from the Destruction Demon Wolf's divine kingdom?!" Truman sucked in a sharp breath.

Playing it close to the chest, huh—real slick.

Truman's hand, wearing the Gloves of the Ancient, grabbed at the air as if seizing something, and his entire figure vanished.

When he reappeared, Truman had already distanced himself from the Destruction Demon Wolf's divine kingdom.

Then he saw all sorts of bizarre, twisted things.

Demon wolves, Mist Treants, Thousand-Faced Hunters—these Beyonder Creatures, which in later eras could directly serve as potion ingredients, were all visible here.

This was the area around the Destruction Demon Wolf's divine kingdom. These creatures, or rather the Beyonder substances within them, were unconsciously converging here, drawn to this mountain range.

And with these Beyonder Creatures gathered together, the scene was easy to imagine.

Beasts might have their fill, but these beings only grew hungrier the more they consumed.

Bloodshed, madness, grotesquerie—all kinds of scenes that pushed the limits of human cognition unfolded before Truman's eyes. At any moment, he could spot a Beyonder Creature driven insane by the chaotic mix of characteristics it had ingested.

Of course, there were also those "Chosen Ones" who had weathered the madness and, by sheer luck, crossed a threshold.

Truman observed for a long while, once again lamenting the chaos that reigned before the sequence formulas of the First Blasphemy Slate appeared.

In this age, the name of the Ancient Sun God had yet to spread across the world, so naturally, the Blasphemy Slate did not exist.

He was about to leave when, as the hem of the Robe of the Sage lifted, his fingers lightly flicked, using the Gloves of the Ancient to manipulate the Spirit Body Threads of this region.

The Robe of the Sage was constantly analyzing the knowledge of this world, and the key to that was the Gloves of the Ancient on Truman's hands.

And Truman, relying on the Traveler's simulation, could manifest many abilities.

"Why doesn't this Saint show himself?" Truman didn't intend to kill the hidden figure; he merely gave the Spirit Body Threads a light tug, making it impossible for that Saint to stay concealed.

Since Truman addressed him as a Saint, he was naturally no weaker than a Sequence 4 of later eras.

And at that moment, a figure suddenly materialized out of thin air.

It was a young man with a tense expression, dressed in a gray-white robe, with thick hair and a refined bearing, though his features were rather plain.

"Are you a deity?" The young man seemed somewhat fearful.

But both the Book of Dreams' intuition and the Robe of the Sage's knowledge reminded Truman that this person held no reverence for so-called gods.

He was observing Truman, looking down on him like a dragon from on high, as if no move Truman made could escape his eyes.

And more than that, something seemed to be fading away...

Hypnosis and virtual personality from the Spectator Pathway—making him forget certain memories, even altering his personality to some degree?

It was only because of the Book of Dreams and the Robe of the Sage that Truman had these warnings. If it had been some demigod like a Warrior, they'd probably have been tricked out of their very characteristics.

Truman looked at the other man, then noticed something. "Are you human?"

Yes, this was a human.

The young man's expression shifted just right, and Truman's face also showed a hint of strangeness.

"What's your name?" Truman asked.

"Hermes." The young man was already looking for an escape route, an invisible force spreading through the psychic realm.

Truman broke into a smile. Wasn't this a kind of Wish Fulfillment, a Beautiful Dream come true?

This was one of his goals for going out—who would've thought he'd run into it right at the start?

Truman withdrew his hand, releasing his hold on the Spirit Body Threads, and the tension between them quickly eased.

"I'm not a deity. I'm human too," Truman explained to this Saint.

Truman had a certain fondness for this founder of human mysticism. After a moment's thought, he dispelled the concealment ability of the Badge of Divinity, causing Hermes across from him to widen his eyes slightly.

"Really human?!" Hermes confirmed the fact. The spiritual body showed no trace of mysticism or contamination—purer than a newborn human infant!

"But..." Hermes still had doubts, though at least on the surface he relaxed.

In this era, Hermes was still young, harboring the ideal of blazing a path of Beyonder power for humanity, which showed his strong sense of belonging to the human race. Truman's human identity was enough to make him lower some of his guard.

And honestly, most humans in this age were simple and honest to a fault...

"You're observing these Beyonder Creatures as they advance?" Truman looked at a Thousand-Faced Hunter in front of Hermes. It was one of the "Chosen Ones."

After a chaotic battle, it had devoured the crystal of a Six-Winged Gargoyle, struck by incredible luck, and directly gained far greater power.

"You're watching them, trying to find a pattern?"

"Well... Sequence 6 to Sequence 5 isn't a huge leap. Throw in a bit of luck, and it's reasonable enough—just that they go mad," Truman commented.

A simple remark, but it made Hermes' eyes tremble. The concept of "Sequence" seemed to open a new world to him.

The term was unfamiliar, but relying on his mysticism foundation—solid enough for this era and even later ones—he could vaguely guess at the meaning behind it.

It was order. It was humanity's hope!

Whoosh! Even a Saint of the Dragon Pathway—the Spectator Pathway of later eras—could no longer hide his thoughts. The thirst for knowledge was so intense that even the Robe of the Sage on Truman responded to it.

"You can teach me? About this Sequence!" Hermes lowered his head and pleaded.

Truman chuckled. "Naturally, but I have a small request."

"Take me to the major human city-states. I need to find some people."

"...No problem!" Hermes hesitated for a moment before finally agreeing.

The other party was a pure human—surely that couldn't be worse than those supernatural races who enslaved or even devoured humans?

Hermes probably didn't know the term "human traitor" yet...

"Good. But if I may be so bold, how did you become a Saint? That's somewhat related to Sequence knowledge." The atmosphere between them eased, and Truman asked out of curiosity.

Related to the Sequence... Hermes had a flash of understanding. Truman's insight, so far beyond its era, was dazzling in the eyes of an explorer like him, stirring his inner restlessness even more.

"When a monster annihilated my city-state, I forcibly swallowed a crystal containing mysterious power..." Hermes roughly described the situation at the time.

"The current Hermes is equivalent to a later-era Sequence 4 Manipulator..." Truman thought to himself. "And when a city falls, there's no shortage of despair or death-defying emotional resonance. He stumbled into completing the ritual by accident."

"You were very lucky—and also quite remarkable." The key to the Manipulator's ritual was resonance. Without a death-defying resolve to perish alongside the city-state, the ritual could never have been completed.

"So, what are your thoughts on your advancement?" The two walked together, leaving the chaotic battlefield behind, discussing Sequence knowledge.

The Spirit World faithfully recorded all information, and in later ages, Scholars of Yore would glimpse this most pivotal moment in human history through the Fog of History.