Mystery: When the Lost Homelanders Meet the Lost Homeland Call

"Gods War Relics Safety Rule #1: This area is filled with a lot of delirium, do not listen to it."

The white pagoda floats in mid-air, with surging leaden-gray seawater beneath its feet and an eternally bright but heatless and energyless sky above.

This is the edge of the ruins of the War of the Gods.

Countless murmurs surged up from beneath the sea, seeped from the cracks in the ruins, and sprang up out of nowhere in the void. They were like fine steel needles that pierced his eardrums and penetrated his brain, filling every thought with immense pain.

Every cell that makes up his biological form is gradually changing, seemingly giving birth to a corrupt consciousness that does not belong to him.

Bai Ta subconsciously tried to shut down his spirituality, but the murmurs had already seeped in through his spirituality, pulling his consciousness down like seaweed.

He tried to use his spirituality to resist, but found that each resistance only provided more nourishment for those delirious thoughts. His spiritual structure was gradually becoming alienated, changing from the depths of his heart, altering his goals and personality...

"Bang!"

His spirit, like a shattered glass vessel, cracked from the inside out, eventually transforming into countless tiny, eerie green dust particles that merged into the sea breeze.

About three seconds later, another white tower emerged from behind the reef.

"Data recording of the true ramblings is complete," he said in a tone as if presenting an experimental report.

"Whispers invade the thought structure directly along the spiritual diffusion path, reconstructing human thinking by modifying defined cognition, and inducing the spirit to produce spontaneous alienation tendencies. Compared with the records of the Witch Path, True Whispers focus more on the corruption at the level of the nature of living beings, while the Witch Path focuses more on the manipulation at the level of emotions."

He glanced down at the lingering specks of light at his feet, remnants of the previous white tower. The lights still flickered faintly, like the last wisps of smoke rising from an extinguished candle.

"Little White Tower No. 1, runtime 66 seconds, effective data collection 99%. Loss acceptable."

He stepped over the dim light and continued walking into the depths of the sea, where four pillars appeared at the edge of his vision.

Lynn's voice rang out: "Second safety rule for the Relics of Gods: Do not look directly at the chassis carrying the sun."

White Tower: "Is it necessary for you to broadcast like this? You should just say it all at once."

Lynn: "Anyway, you know the original story, so I think a sense of ritual is an important part of life..."

The White Tower shielded Lynn from the noise caused by the Air Force.

Those were four enormous pillars carved from pure diamond.

Like the giant towers in myths and legends that support the sea, they extend down to the seabed, stand firmly, and support a sizable floating island.

Above the floating island, the soil was scorched black, devoid of any green. Deep within it, the light shone exceptionally brightly, surpassing even the midday sky.

White Tower squinted and carefully examined the floating island. Suddenly, a long hiss came from the floating island.

  

The sound was loud and unrestrained, carrying an ancient and powerful vitality, without any of the chilling sense of danger. The sound echoed several times on the sea before gradually dissipating, followed by the clattering of horses galloping, a dense and powerful sound that carried across the sea and reached the ears of the White Pagoda.

Two magnificent horses, seemingly forged from gold, galloped off the edge of the floating island, pulling behind them a similarly golden and ornate chariot. The chariot's spokes grew brighter and brighter as it spun, like a blazing sun.

The white tower did not bow its head, but stared straight at the chariot, from which the light and heat emanating from the vehicle were directed at it.

White Tower could feel himself being pierced by that intense light. The light was dismantling his structure of existence, peeling away his layers from the outside in like a wax figure being melted by high temperature. His etheric body was the first to crack, and golden light poured into those cracks, filling every crevice, and then continued to penetrate inward, touching every layer of his mental body, astral body, and spiritual body.

He felt like a piece of metal being thrown into a furnace, being heated by the light until it turned red, white, and then began to deform. His outline melted in the light, the boundaries became blurred, and the originally clear lines of his face and body began to spread, diffuse, and lose their shape like a watercolor painting soaked in water.

"This level of symbolic purification..." his thoughts struggled to jot down in the intense heat, "the manifestation of the authority of the solar pathway..."

His body completely melted away in the golden-white light, like a block of ice thrown into boiling water, leaving not even a bubble.

About five seconds later, another white tower rose from the sea.

"Little White Tower II, runtime 88 seconds, effective data collection 95%. Optimization of evasion strategies is needed."

"I'd say you should wear sunglasses," Lynn's voice rang out. "I wear sunglasses when I'm fishing."

"I think you're in the Air Force because of the reflection from your sunglasses."

What followed were some difficult-to-understand phrases, such as "fishermen never go home empty-handed," and so the atmosphere in the God War Relics was filled with a joyful air.

The third safety rule for the God Wars Ruins: Do not explore the ancient and mutated ruins floating in the sea.

Ruins of all sizes are scattered across the sea like randomly strewn building blocks. Some are just sections of broken stone walls protruding from the water, while others are the remains of entire buildings, half-submerged and half-floating in the sea.

Some of the stones were covered with dark green algae, and some kind of dark purple vines grew in the crevices. These vines had no leaves, only bare stems, with dark red fruits the size of soybeans growing at the ends.

Stepping onto one of the relatively intact ruins of the White Pagoda, one walks along a corridor about twenty meters long, with several twisted stone pillars standing on both sides, their surfaces carved with some kind of long-lost patterns.

He took about ten steps forward, and the shadow beneath his feet began to wriggle.

The shadow initially appeared as the patch he cast on the floor, but as he moved, its boundaries blurred, tentacles extended, and it began to spread outwards. The shadows on the ground slid and twisted like living things, intertwining to form a mass darker than the night, surging up from the cracks in the stone slabs and wrapping around the White Tower's ankles.

Bai Ta glanced down and noticed the shadows that were pulling at his fallen self.

"Sequence Three, Three-Headed Sanctuary! It's a powerful monster at Sequence Three! Let's see how the White Tower handles it!"

"Lynn, if you're bored, go find Pales."

Bai Ta crouched down, reaching his hand into the gap between the stone slabs, groping around as he tried to sense the shadow and grab the manipulator behind it.

"I'm also trying out other rituals, and what's wrong with watching the live stream while I'm at it?" Lynn said innocently.

"I genuinely believe that having something to do can relieve the frustration you feel because of the failed ritual."

The white pagoda fumbled for less than two seconds before suddenly grabbing a slippery, warm object and pulling it away.

It was an animal with three heads, about the size of a human head. The three heads, shrouded in shadow, each had eyes facing different directions, and four claws covered with suckers were futilely scratching at the air.

The person in front of him inexplicably pulled this giant monster, who was originally over six meters tall, out of the crack in the ground. The eyes of the demigod monster, who had been mad for thousands of years, became clear.

Does this sound like a word?

Is that reasonable?

"What did you just do?"

"What did I just do?"

Bai Ta stared wide-eyed at the monster, his eyes filled with confusion for the first time since he created the account, his mouth almost agape to the corners of his eyes.

But the madman was faster; its claws transformed into jet-black blades and slashed at the white tower.

Blade of Spirit and Flesh!

Bai Ta casually crushed the claw and then threw it into his own universe to seal it away.

"It's probably a manifestation of the power of the warp..." Lynn guessed. "I've encountered this before; reality is like a picture, appearance is reality..."

"Warspace is truly omnipotent."

Bai Ta pushed up his glasses, pushing them back up from where they had slipped towards his mouth due to the shadow. "Let's think about this some more."

He found another half-collapsed hall. The dome of the hall had completely collapsed, leaving only a wall about two meters high that barely stood. On the wall were some fragments of painted murals depicting some winged humanoid creatures worshipping a sun-shaped symbol.

As the white tower gazed at the murals, a monster attempted to infiltrate his spiritual ocean.

It was a giant lizard with missing wings, lurking in the pool beneath the hall. When it saw the White Tower enter, its body became ethereal, and it attempted to penetrate from the sea of ​​subconsciousness into the White Tower's subconscious island.

It sensed that the spiritual scale of this being was enormous, which meant a very sumptuous feast.

Then it entered the White Tower's mind smoothly, as smoothly as if it were completely undefended.

Empty.

There was nothing there that could be called a "sea of ​​spirits," no sediment of memories, no undercurrents of emotions, no whirlpools of desires, no complex and entangled mental landscapes belonging to living beings. There was only a calm, pale, empty expanse, like a blank sheet of paper covered with writing that had been completely wiped clean.

The lizard froze. Its thoughts wandered aimlessly within the spirit of the white tower, finding nothing to gnaw on, nothing to swallow. It was a situation more terrifying than encountering resistance, because it meant that the being before it was not the kind of "living creature" it had imagined.

Just then, a voice came from behind the lizard, a voice with a casual, teasing tone:

"Do you think you can lose just because the dragon is charging in?"

Lynn shook his head: "How much cunning can beasts possess? Anyone extraordinary would have run away just now."

The lizard's eyes narrowed; it wanted to escape from the emptiness, but it was already caught by the emptiness itself. It felt its consciousness being pulled away, being sucked into that void of nothingness, flowing irresistibly towards the darkness like water being absorbed by a sponge.

It tried to struggle in its death throes, attempting to separate itself into another identity to escape, but the suction ignored the difference between the original and the clone, swallowing them both whole.

Its body writhed violently in the deep blue water, its eyes simultaneously turning cloudy. Then, its massive body began to shrink, shrivel, and turn into grayish-white fragments. Those fragments sank to the bottom of the pool, mingling with the silt, and quickly became indistinguishable.

Bai Ta looked at the grayish-white debris scattered at the bottom of the pool, then reached out and picked up a pale white scale the size of a fingernail. The scale was slightly warm to his fingertip, emitting a faint spiritual fluctuation belonging to a mutated monster.

He put the brain, which was glowing with a psychedelic light, into his pocket, turned around, and left the hall.

Within a relatively intact architectural complex, the White Pagoda encountered a living library.

The building appeared to be a seven-story tower, each floor filled with arched windows that let in warm brass light and emitted a faint scent, like a mixture of old book pages and dried flowers. The tower's doors were open, revealing rows of towering bookshelves inside, the gilded lettering on the spines shimmering under the lights.

Bai Ta stood at the door for a few seconds, then went inside.

All the books on the bookshelf are alive.

Sometimes they would jump down from the shelves, automatically turning the pages and letting the words float from the paper, piecing together sentences, paragraphs, and even complete chapters in the air. Those sentences shot towards the White Tower like arrows, carrying an ancient, forgotten will, attempting to forcibly instill their knowledge into the reader's consciousness.

Some sentences speak of lost incantations, some of forbidden history, and some of something completely beyond human comprehension. Their vocabulary and grammatical structures are distorted, like afterimages forcibly projected into this world from another dimension.

The fragments of knowledge struck the spiritual surface of the white tower; some merged into it, while others shattered and dissipated as if hitting a stone wall. Strange patterns began to appear on the spiritual surface of the white tower, marks left by the forcibly instilled knowledge—some were words, some were graphics, and some were completely invisible to the eye.

The books on the bookshelf also form a giant eye, trying to bring the white tower into its field of vision.

"A mixture of characteristics? Did angels who had access to the secrets of the gods participate in that war of the gods?"

The white pagoda curiously studied the things before it.

He stood there, letting the fragments of knowledge continue to batter his spirit. The lines on the surface of his spirit grew more numerous and denser, like a parchment covered with writing that was constantly being covered by new words. His body began to crack under the impact of that knowledge; first a thin crack appeared on his left arm, then on his right shoulder, and then on his entire torso.

The cracks multiplied and deepened until his body shattered, scattering into a pile of grayish-white fragments.

The voice from deep within the tower paused for a moment, a faint hint of confusion lingering in the rustling sound.

Then the pieces of debris started to move.

Every fragment was deforming, expanding, and reshaping into a human silhouette. Those silhouettes changed from grayish-white to skin-colored, from blurry to clear, from meaningless little pieces recombine into a complete structure. In less than ten seconds, a row of white towers rose from the ground, densely packed, stretching from the entrance to the bookshelves at the deepest part of the tower. Every white tower looked exactly the same, every white tower had the same expression, and every white tower moved in the same manner.

They both took a step forward at the same time.

The rustling sound deep inside the tower suddenly became rapid and sharp, like paper curling and contracting under a flame, emitting a piercing noise. The bookshelves began to shake violently, books falling from the shelves, open pages fluttering on the floor like a swarm of moths with broken wings.

Then I could see the book tower clearly.

Behind that row of densely packed white towers, in the gaps between those seemingly identical overlapping outlines, a ghostly green flame was burning quietly, outlining the boundary of an empty space. That emptiness showed no perceptible signs; it simply existed there, like a void left after a piece of the structure of reality itself had been hollowed out.

The void seemed to "smile" slightly.

The tower lights went out at the same time, the open pages of the books came to a stop, and then the entire structure of the tower began to collapse inward, like a crushed cardboard box. All the walls, floors, and ceilings converged and squeezed towards the center, producing a dull sound, like rocks being crushed.

The white pagodas emerged simultaneously from the collapsed ruins.

The one at the front raised his hand and glanced at the faintly glowing pages of the book he was holding between his fingers—a property he had acquired from the tower.

"The data for the Book Tower has been recorded." His voice was calm as ever. "The Little White Tower still has sufficient reserves; we can continue."

He put the rolled-up pages into his pocket and continued walking.