As soon as the words fell, Li Si and Aivar swiftly raised their weapons toward the palace.
The voice had come from that direction.
"No need to be so nervous."
The aged voice rang out calmly.
"I mean you no harm."
Then, before their eyes, a somewhat ethereal pale figure slowly emerged from the palace gates, its body floating in midair.
It was clearly not a person with flesh and blood, but rather a soul-like existence similar to those ghosts.
He appeared to be an elderly man, his body slightly stooped. His face was ancient, the wrinkles upon it layered like deep ravines.
He wore a pure white robe. The cyan and blue patterns on it were more intricate and exquisite than those on the petitioners Li Si had encountered before. Those distinctive, captivating patterns closely resembled the style of the palace, sacred and carrying the lofty air of a god.
The old man's gaze rested calmly on Li Si and Aivar, and he made no movement.
Perhaps because the old man who had suddenly appeared before them did not seem malicious, Aivar asked:
"Who are you?"
"Why are you here?"
The old man looked at the two of them, his eyes filled with the weight of countless years.
"My name is Ansel. I am the high priest of the god's church here."
"Our lord has been gone for so long. After all these endless years, have others finally come here?"
Hearing the spirit who called himself Ansel speak so wistfully, Aivar did not lower his guard.
"You mean this place is a god's church? Which god?"
Li Si stood silently to the side, his staff in hand.
Though he had learned from the system that this island was a remnant left behind by God Ansiel, he had not told