When the plot-skips players into the game world

The sound of a bell tolling, the sound of a wooden fish tapping, the sound of chanting.

The sound of hymns, the sound of praises, the sound of prayers.

The prayers, confusions, and trusts of people from worlds beyond all rushed into Aiwass's heart.

Even if the language was unfamiliar, Aiwass could understand what they were doing.

These were sorrowful cries when a human life encounters unbearable pain, when one's path has reached its end.

If all before one's eyes is illusion, if all one has is meaningless, if all gained is eventually lost, if all held will ultimately leave... then does this world hold any meaning at all?

If closing one's eyes forever bids farewell to the world; if even friends and family are dead, leading to oneself being forgotten by the world, everything created turning into void, and the wheel of the world maybe even reversing its cycle of rebirth... then what difference does one's own complete disappearance make compared to the destruction of a community, a nation, a race, or even the entire world?

In that instant, countless fragmentary memories flashed before Aiwass's eyes:

The piercing cries of a newborn overshadowed all chants, followed closely by the whistling of shells tearing through the air, explosions drowning everything out.

War and destruction. Plagues and death.

Rebirth. Adulthood. Weddings. Funerals.

These were all seemingly ambiguous "realities" and "histories."

Aiwass instantly understood their essence—these were performances replayed over several cycles of rebirth in the past.

Each cycle had slight differences, but people always did similar things.

And when the world's history reached a particular time and place, it was suddenly covered in a hazy amber, everything following would freeze, still.

A white-haired, wing-eared girl frozen in amber slightly opened her eyes, propped up her body. When she woke, she was no longer frozen in amber—because the amber had spread to envelop the entire world, and she was the only colorful entity in this amber-hued world.

She finally revealed what she held protectively in her arms like a fetus... it was a golden apple.

She lifted the apple, and gently rotated it.

Then the whole world started to wind back. Rotating by one three hundred sixtieth of a degree could reverse decades, turning everything into void, making everything meaningless.

Winter, autumn, summer, and spring endlessly flowed, but the world remained covered in amber-hued dusk.

Finally, when the harsher second sun hung high in the sky, the golden apple emitted a crisp "click."

As if the dial had reached its limit... or like a faint cracking sound emanating from inside the golden apple itself.

Standing before the amber was the silhouette of a youth.

As the amber closed her eyes while holding the golden apple, falling once again into sleep... the whole world gradually began to regain color.

When she fell completely asleep, the world finally fully restored its color, and time began to flow once more.

It was a youth resembling Aiwass in appearance.

He had smooth black shoulder-length hair, amber pupils, and a pure white halo with protruding spikes pointing in four, distinct colors: red, blue, yellow, and green. The clothes he wore seemed less like attire but rather a single piece of cloth—a grey-white shawl.

On his back, there was a pair of white wings, and below the tense, statuelike muscles of his pale abs was a pure white serpent's body.

He looked incredibly sacred.

His face was devoid of a smile, overflowing with sadness instead.

His fingertips made contact with the golden apple cradled by the amber—but it was not in a reaching touch but the last moment before withdrawing. As time resumed its flow, the touch between his fingertips and the apple also broke. A thin golden electric arc, resembling a snake, linked his fingertips to the apple, which was decisively severed as he let go.

Immediately, the amber's body instinctively curled up, protecting the golden apple between its thighs and abdomen, arms embracing the legs, curling up like a fetus. The golden apple, symbolizing the authority of the Reincarnation Celestial Marshal, was cradled like another fetus.

This was indeed the Celestial Marshal Shard of the Reincarnation Celestial Marshal.

As the amber closed her eyes, everything around her froze as well. Her amber world solidified like insects frozen in amber. The apple in the arms of the specimen-like girl was carefully preserved at the end of time.

One wakes, the other sleeps. One sleeps, the other wakes.

The snake and the amber, couldn't even confirm each other's existence anymore...

——Meanwhile, in the outside world.

"...Aiwass?"

After the woman finished speaking, Isabel instinctively turned back to look at Aiwass, gently calling his name.

Who is she—Isabel had wanted to ask.

But she suddenly tightened her expression, realizing something was off about Aiwass.

Aiwass slightly furrowed his brow, his eyes hollow and vacant, body immobile, as if frozen.

It was as if he had fallen into some inescapable illusion, yet sparks of purple and red glowed intensely in his eyes. Even though Aiwass showed little expression, Isabel could sense a subtle sadness and shock emanating from him.

Isabel's gaze instantly grew fierce as she looked at that woman.

She didn't understand the meaning of the woman's words, nor did she wish to comprehend—but she was acutely aware of one fact, that this bastard intended harm toward Aiwass!

So Isabel fearlessly blocked in front of Aiwass, shielding him from the woman's gaze.

Her right hand revealed a mask, which she placed over her face.

At the same time, Isabel solemnly said, "I don't care what you're saying, or what you've shown Aiwass—"

The moment the mask was placed over Aiwass's face, Isabel's entire body suddenly grew much taller, transforming into Aiwass's appearance amidst strange shimmering light.

Her other hand reached behind, two fingers clutching the card initially held between Aiwass's right hand's index and middle fingers, yet had not been released in time.

And Sherlock also realized something was amiss.

But unlike Isabel, he didn't step in front of Aiwass. Rather, he quietly gripped the magic wand in his hand, launching a sneak attack in the most efficient, highest success rate manner!

Before the descent, Sherlock had already used the Fools' Chants Manual. Blue transparent ribbons wrapped around his shoulders; there was no need for chanting, guidance, or sigils to cast spells by overdrawing his power!

——Fourth Level spell, Lightning Chain!

Though Sherlock had advanced to the Fifth Power Level, he hadn't mastered many Fifth Power Level spells yet. Among all the spells Sherlock could cast, this was the highest energy level, with the fastest activation and projectile speed, while also being the most incapacitating spell to an opponent.

Sherlock showed no restraint.

Although he did not know if that person was indeed the Blood Celestial Marshal. He could only confirm that the other party clearly showed hostility towards them.

He could clearly sense that the woman only had a Path of Wisdom Level around the First Power Level...

First Power Level... that essentially meant she was a civilian, not even a proper Transcendent. This indicated she hadn't completed the first promotion ritual, barely able to cast spells with weak effects using items, materials, and chanting. Typically, the power of First Power Level spells was less practical than aiming and firing a shot.

Such a level of enemy, a single Lightning Chain should directly reduce to ashes.

Given Sherlock's temperament, realizing Aiwass was under attack and using this level of lethal spell—a notion he couldn't have imagined having half a year ago.

But Sherlock quickly realized... it wasn't a matter of whether he held back or not, it just wasn't working...

Blinding electrical sparks, as fat as chains, crackled and turned into visible thick chains... it was less a "Lightning Chain" than a light cannon.

While the speed of lightning is far slower than light, even the Fifth Power Level, Sixth Power Level transcendent, or the Descent Heavenly Department absolutely couldn't dodge such divine speed.

Even ordinary mortals can't dodge a bullet, but they can anticipate its trajectory through the direction of the gun, attempting to avoid it... in a similar way.

Which was why Sherlock had soundlessly minimized his presence, then struck suddenly.

And yet, even so, he quickly realized... it wasn't that he was holding back—it was simply ineffective.

Lightning split the air as it traversed, but before reaching the opponent, it was suddenly deflected by some invisible force, rendering it dull and vanishing, becoming void.

It wasn't blocked; it was nullified.

Lightning Chain is a continuous casting spell, but now the entire spell was diffused and disappeared into nothingness along its trajectory before reaching its target.

The green-clad woman turned around.

Looking sarcastically at Sherlock, she said, "You dare use my power against me?"

"""