I'm fighting Kal'tsit? Really?

The soldier took the document, glanced back and forth between the two men, then turned and walked towards the commander, handing the document over.

However, the commander didn't even look at them, and coldly said, "Please cooperate with the routine physical examination. This is a necessary procedure, and you must not do anything against the rules."

“No problem, but please deliver the soil to the disaster messenger who is still at the post station.” Provence’s tone immediately quickened, and he said in one breath, “We need to ensure that the sample is successfully delivered to someone who can analyze the current situation. If it is a sudden natural disaster, then we cannot guarantee when it will occur, and it may even happen in two hours.”

"Once we verify your identity, the sample will naturally be handed over to the Catastrophe Messenger."

"……what?"

“Samples can be faked, madam.”

The commander's gaze was already fixed on the electronic terminal in his hand, clearly having lost interest: "In the past year, Colombia has received a total of twenty-five false or misreported reports about natural disasters. You don't look like a natural disaster messenger for Colombia, nor are you carrying any company-specific equipment. So I hope you can at least cooperate with our inspection and abide by Colombian regulations."

"Then we should at least know how long the review process will take, right?!"

Angelina had never seen anything like it before. Even though she knew Colombia was full of rigid rules and regulations and taxes designed to squeeze every last drop out of people, she had never seen such rules appear at a messenger station, "or both sides at the same time—"

"Take them away." The commander waved his hand, signaling for his men to move out.

Upon hearing this, two soldiers immediately stepped forward, standing on either side of Angelina and Provence, their crossbows slightly raised, creating a silent sense of oppression.

“Please come with us.” One of the soldiers said coldly. Although he did not fully raise his weapon and point it at the two men, his tough attitude said it all.

Angelina frowned and lightly touched her staff with her fingers.

But... she's not alone now.

She couldn't guarantee that Provence beside her wouldn't get hurt in the crossfire.

Angelina took a deep breath, forced herself to calm down, and nodded vigorously: "Okay, we'll cooperate. But I hope to resolve this issue as soon as possible. That's my only request, is that alright?"

The soldier did not respond, but simply gestured for the two to walk forward.

Their footsteps mingled with the slight clinking of weapons, making the sound particularly jarring.

……

Before long, the two were taken to an isolation area outside the station.

There was a small space enclosed by wire mesh, with a few simple metal beds and a dusty table in the corner.

They still had their belongings with them, probably because the other party wanted to ensure they were completely isolated and posed no threat before handing them over here.

"Go inside and wait for further instructions," one of the soldiers said coldly, then stepped aside and stood outside the quarantine area, gripping his weapon with both hands and holding it in front of his chest.

Angelina stood before the barbed wire fence, her gaze sweeping over the rudimentary surroundings, a hint of anger in her voice: "This is what you call 'procedure'? You mean to lock us up here in isolation?"

The soldier didn't answer, but just stared at her expressionlessly, raised his weapon, and gestured for the two to put their personal belongings on the ground so he could take them away for inspection.

Provence sighed and gently tugged at her arm: "Don't argue with them. We need to find a way to make them believe us. Ange, stay calm—"

bang.

Before they could react, another soldier used the handle to smash the soldier who had spoken directly onto the head.

The blow knocked him unconscious, his limbs went limp in an instant, and he collapsed to the ground.

As they looked up together, a deep voice came from inside the soldier's helmet. Through the holes in it, they could almost see purple pupils hidden behind the helmet.

“You respect natural disasters, messengers, that is good.”

The soldier spoke slowly.

“Respect?” Provence paused for a moment, then quickly continued, “No, it’s my duty. Also, could you please take us to the messenger of natural disasters here? We need to pass on the information to someone who knows it!”

“You shouldn’t be locked up here, dying alongside ignorant fools.” The soldier shook his head. “You should continue to sing of natural disasters, spreading the great unknown to everyone.”

"God's messenger, please depart."

Angelina's hand holding the staff trembled slightly, her voice filled with disbelief: "Who are you? What do you mean by 'dying together'? What will happen here?"

"...God will descend upon this place with sweet rain."

"Thus the lost souls were freed, vanishing along with the sinful civilization, returning to the wilderness."

Naturally, the soldier did not answer their remaining questions.

After saying just a couple of inexplicable words, he walked out of the quarantine area and quickly disappeared from their sight.

The silence lingered in the area for a moment, but the two quickly resumed their activities.

Provence slowly stood up, picked up the backpack that had fallen to the ground, checked it for damage, and quickly slung it over her shoulder. She glanced at Angelina beside her, her expression becoming more serious: "...I have a bad feeling. We need to find the messengers of natural disasters in the post station quickly. They should have signal flares that can be fired into the sky. The people of Colombia will understand what that means."

“Yes!” Angelina nodded emphatically, said nothing more, and lowered her body to lie in wait with Provence, trying to get closer to the center of the post station.

The surroundings were unusually quiet, with only a gentle breeze passing through the corners of the inn, stirring up a few fallen leaves.

Footsteps, hushed conversations, and the occasional clash of weapons drifted from afar, seemingly swallowed up by the somber atmosphere.

Angelina and Provence concealed their presence as much as possible, bypassing the obstacles formed by trucks and boxes, and slowly approaching their target.

The entire terrain of the messenger station was unfamiliar to them, because they had not come from this direction, and they ultimately had to rely on the shape of the terrain to identify their exact location.

Just when they thought everything was going well—

"Tail?"

A questioning voice suddenly rang out from around the corner and approached their location.

The two women held their breath almost instantly. Angelina froze on the spot, instinctively gripping her staff, her gaze quickly sweeping towards the source of the sound.

A fully armed soldier slowly emerged from the other side, his crossbow pointing at the ground. His gaze seemed to have spotted something unusual, and he strode over to where the two were hiding.

And just like that, the two sides met face to face.

The messenger and the soldier looked at each other, and the air seemed to freeze instantly.

However, the soldier's attention was not on Angelina's face, nor on Provence's location.

His gaze went straight past the two men and landed on the huge and conspicuous furry tail behind Provence.

"Haha." The purple-haired Rupert looked down at his tail and chuckled dryly. "Oh dear, sorry Ange, I don't think I'm... really suited for stealth operations."

Then, a sharp alarm pierced the air and resounded throughout the entire post station.

------

Time returns to the present.

The arrest operation spread from the rest stop almost instantly, quickly taking over the entire entrance area. Even the trucks at the front of the queue were not spared and were undergoing thorough inspections.

This scene immediately caused quite a stir, and many returning pioneers couldn't help but utter angry curses.

"Damn it! I was already exhausted from clearing the land, and then this happened!" A weary pioneer complained as he jumped off the truck and kicked a pebble on the ground.

The pebble flew in a perfect arc and struck Angelina on the head as she stealthily advanced, almost making her cry out in pain.

want to cry.

Thinking about my current situation makes me want to cry even more.

But you can't cry yet; you have to wait until everything is over before you cry.

Angelina suppressed her emotions and dodged one pioneer after another, slowly walking towards the end of the traffic.

Now they need to find a way to re-enter the messenger station, at least to let the disaster messengers there know the seriousness of the problem. But faced with this level of scrutiny, they can only patiently wait for this period to end before taking action.

It'll be soon, it'll be soon—

pat.

Angelina's heart skipped a beat, and she stopped abruptly. Just as they relaxed for a moment, preparing to find a place to hide, a figure jumped out from behind a truck ahead. The person wore a helmet, and their figure appeared extremely heavy under the armor, like an insurmountable wall in the sunlight.

If they're discovered, will they be arrested? Or will this person expose them directly?

No, we can't gamble.

Angelina almost instinctively gripped her staff, preparing to activate Originium Arts in the next second and fly away from this place with Provence.

However, the moment she raised her hand, a layer of cold, hard enamel quickly covered her arm, precisely stopping her movement.

"Don't rush." ​​The person's voice was calm but carried a hint of seriousness. She slowly removed her helmet, revealing a face that Angelina recognized.

Angelina's eyes widened, her breath catching in her throat. The next moment, her expression shifted from tense to one of surprise: "You are—!"

“I’ve seen you on Rhodes Island.” Vayvan’s voice was deep and calm as he looked at them. “You helped me deliver messages, Operator Angelina, and Operator Provence, who was in charge of disaster observation.”

“…!” Angelina almost suppressed her tears, her voice revealing a hint of disbelief and excitement, which she then forcefully suppressed in her throat: “Ms. Saria, we… we may be about to be attacked by a natural disaster here. Excuse me, could you help us get into the post station?!”

“It seems urgent.” Vayvan nodded, glancing towards the distant post station. “Could you tell me briefly what happened?”

Just as Angelina was about to explain, a voice unfamiliar to her rang out from behind the car.

"There are indeed natural disasters."

All three of them turned their gazes toward the source of the sound. A person wearing a helmet slowly emerged from the back of the truck, a strand of silver hair peeking out from under the helmet, gleaming coldly in the sunlight.

He rubbed his head wearily, and the instant he woke up, a flood of information mixed with noise rushed into his mind.

It was as if time had been stopped and several throwing knives had been stabbed into his brain. Although Gerald felt that his senses and Originium Arts had become more sensitive, it was still difficult for him to recover in such a short time.

As his senses gradually returned, and he focused his gaze on the person in front of him—

His hand instinctively went to the sword at his waist.

"what do you?"

Although she didn't know why Gerald suddenly looked so alarmed, Saria followed his gaze to the target point and finally looked at Angelina, who was covered in goosebumps from fright.

Angelina looked around shakily, and after confirming that there was nothing else amiss, she pointed blankly at herself.

"me?"

Chapter Sixty-One: There is always a most direct solution to every problem (4K)

The blur faded, and everything returned to normal.

The girl in front of him stopped emanating the strange aura that had been stimulating him, and the thrill he had felt vanished instantly.

Although it was only for a moment, he seemed to see the girl standing under some giant structure.

However, considering that the effects of the dream essence have not completely dissipated, it is understandable that such hallucinations would occur.

"Sorry, it's nothing, I was probably just still half asleep."

Gerald opened the helmet slightly, took a deep breath, and then closed it again. He turned to look in Saria's direction, and the Vayvan met his gaze and nodded.

This means that someone can be trusted.

Provence glanced at the somewhat unspoken distance between Seria and the helmeted stranger, instantly lowering his guard slightly, and explained the situation as briefly as possible:

“Ange and I set off from another messenger post in the south, and after completing our mission, we were preparing to head to this post station…”

She quickly explained everything that had happened during that time, including her conversation with the soldier.

Before this information could be fully received, the little fox on the other side immediately sidled up to her, looking like she wanted to get to the bottom of things.

“Excuse me.” Angelina blinked, recovering from her earlier shock, her mind focused on Pegasus’s last words: “What did you mean by ‘there are indeed natural disasters’?”

"The lady next to you is a messenger of natural disasters. She should know that geological activity driven by Originium is also part of natural disasters."

Gerald glanced at Provence, his gaze lingering for a moment on the large tail before being abruptly frozen in place for three seconds. Only when he realized his actions were impolite did he forcefully avert his gaze: "For example, the volcanoes near Colombia. Before a natural disaster, some plants change color as a warning; the situation here is similar."

He summoned the wind, and a handful of dust swirled into his palm, slowly floating in the air and spinning around the center.

"The temperature is too high, the air is unnaturally loose, and it is different from the normal formation of the current terrain. In addition, I did not feel the formation of air vortices, clouds, or rain in the air."

Pegasus tried closing his eyes. As his sensory sensitivity decreased, the distance between him and the resonance core seemed to be growing further and further: "Natural disasters have storms, Originium rain, and even hail in the Ursus wastelands. But this feels more like... an earthquake?"

The energy originates from underground.

The wind wasn't enough to carry this off-site information to him; it could only be the lingering power of the Dream Essence at work.

That connection with Originium was like an incredibly fragile thread, which would break with the slightest tug—perhaps applying some more Dream Essence could solve the problem, but that was clearly not a good solution.

Meanwhile, for the messenger duo on the other side, this conclusion hit them like a hammer blow.

"Are you also a messenger of natural disasters?"

Provence subconsciously raised a question, even though she had already largely believed the answer after hearing what the other person said.

One reason why the messenger station was able to be located here was that natural disasters in the form of natural calamities were rare on this waterway.

Given that this is an extremely low-risk area and almost no one uses Originium extensively in the wilderness, the likelihood of a natural disaster affecting this region is extremely low.