"Next, before preliminary preparations on the Protos side are properly arranged, I will personally tutor you for a time to make you as strong as possible."
The Ice Snow Witch set the documents aside for the moment; she would give all of them to Hyperion later to read through.
Hearing the Ice Snow Witch's words, Hyperion quickly snapped out of her daze.
"Will you be teaching me magic?"
When it came to learning magic, Hyperion could not help feeling excited.
Since both of them were witches, the Ice Snow Witch surely had things she could teach her—secrets neither ordinary humans nor demons could impart.
"No. Our spell affinities differ too greatly, so you would find it difficult to master my magic. However, if you see any spell on me that you wish to learn, I will do my best to rush production and craft it into a magic card for you."
The Ice Snow Witch spoke candidly.
She was certain she could replicate spells of the Pink Sacred grade for Hyperion. As for Orange Epic spells, they could not be replicated directly, but she would still strive to craft Pink Sacred lower-tier substitutes for her.
"...There is such a good deal?"
Hyperion was momentarily stunned.
She had never imagined such a convenient method of cultivation existed.
"Having assigned you such an arduous task, I will naturally support you with all my might," the Ice Snow Witch said.
Although equivalent to a young woman in human terms, she had lived through exceptionally long ages compared to mankind. Whatever talent she possessed in magic engineering had long since been fully realized; crafting cards for Hyperion was hardly an issue.
The Protos Empire had not yet initiated war for only one reason: it did not believe its chances of victory were a hundred percent.
On the scales of war, any Tier 8 powerhouse carried immense weight, and Tier 8s endowed with specialized functions were all the more crucial.
As long as Hyperion could help rescue that great demon, it would at least severely disrupt the Empire's plans to some degree and buy substantial time for the Kingdom of Asethelan and the Northern Alliance.
"Thank you, Miss Almis."
Hyperion expressed her gratitude to the Ice Snow Witch.
She had learned the Saintess's name from the Holy Trio.
"I heard from the priests that a youth named Lanqi is always inseparable from you. Did he also come to the Northern Continent this time?"
The Ice Snow Witch pondered for a moment and inquired.
She did not know why those three clergy members kept Lanqi's name on their lips ever since returning from the Shadow World. Later, upon asking, she discovered that the youth was Loren's student, and was exceedingly friendly and close with members of the clergy.
Ever since those three clergy members had interacted with Lanqi and Hyperion, it was as if something fundamental had changed within them, though the Ice Snow Witch could hardly tell what had shifted.
Still, she presumed it was because of Hyperion; after all, she was Efatia's daughter.
Here on the Northern Continent, they lacked the recording devices and massive reading terminals of the Southern Continent Shadow World Management Association, so they could not see what had actually transpired inside the Shadow World.
The developmental paths of magic engineering differed slightly between the Northern and Southern Continents.
The peaceful and stable Southern Continent primarily focused on improving residents' quality of life, using magic engineering to combat natural disasters and serve training and challenges within the Shadow Worlds. It was a purely human-oriented branch of magic engineering, unified and coordinated by the continent-wide Management Association, allowing for extensive sharing, exchange, and collaboration in technology.
Meanwhile, the Northern Continent, mired in perennial warfare, poured more energy into competing for resources in the physical realm, primarily aiming to elevate strategic capabilities. Shadow Worlds were merely balanced alongside those priorities, leaning more toward the original Demon Realm magic engineering and the blossoming ancient heritages of diverse races.
After decades of isolation caused by the oceanic cataclysms, the Northern and Southern Continents had long since diverged.
"He came as well, but we were separated right at the start... However, there is a strong likelihood he is already within the borders of the Protos Empire."
Hyperion reasoned that if Lanqi were also in the Kingdom of Asethelan, he would guess that she would seek out the Holy Trio, and he would have done the same to rendezvous with her.
Therefore, it was most probable that Lanqi had drifted into Protos territory.
"If you run into Lanqi, seek his assistance as well. When the time comes, I will write to Loren and ask him to commend you two on behalf of the Church," the Ice Snow Witch said with a nod.
"...That might be a bit dangerous."
Hyperion's gaze darted aside.
"Your mission is indeed very dangerous, but I will do everything in my power to protect your safety," the Ice Snow Witch conceded, closing her eyes.
"No, I mean... I'm afraid he might overachieve far too much..."
Hyperion lowered her head, muttering under her breath.
"No need to fear. Whatever liability arises, I will shoulder it. Just let him act freely without restraint."
The Ice Snow Witch leaned back against the sofa without reservation and waved a dismissive hand.
Knowing that he was a student raised by Loren—an honest, upstanding man—the Ice Snow Witch could roughly guess what kind of moral character the youth possessed.
Talent was meant to be unleashed; the Ice Snow Witch simply hoped someone could lend Hyperion a helping hand.
***
Time slipped by in a flash.
Two weeks had passed since Lanqi's arrival in Lilom City, located in the Southwestern Province of the Protos Empire.
In the afternoon in Lilom City, ancient stone edifices lined the streets. Flowers and lush greenery grew in abundance along their window frames and terraces. Whenever a breeze swept through, fragrant scents drifted in the air, mingling endlessly with the echoing rhythm of ocean waves.
Passing through street after street and crossing several bridges led to the heart of the town, where an imposing temple stood upon a spacious garden plaza, serving as the landmark of the region.
Its spire reached toward the sky, gleaming with gilded trimming.
The temple's exterior walls were built of beige marble, polished by time yet still as pristine as new, carved with exquisite reliefs depicting ancient legends and heroic deeds. On either side of the front entrance, two towering stone lions looked majestic and commanding, as though warning visitors to treat this solemn and sacred sanctuary with reverence.
This temple had originally belonged to the Church of the Goddess of Fate, but nowadays, scarcely any residents dared approach it of their own accord. It currently belonged to the Resurrection Church.
Unusually, not a single silver-robed priest could be seen around the perimeter of the temple this afternoon.
In the core central hall deep within the temple:
Within the vast space, a colossal cross stood right in the center. Light filtering through the rose window scattered into shimmering, vibrant colors that illuminated the entire hall.
Every silver-robed priest in Lilom City was gathered in this hall at this moment. Their gazes, rapt and impassioned, were all fixed upon the pulpit at the very front.
A sermon was underway.
Seated row upon row, numerous silver-robed priests received instruction, diligently taking notes.
"The world outside is corrupt. Those claims of 'plunder' and 'cruelty' are mere lies they have woven. Only we possess the true revelation, for we know the truth of love."
The figure on the pulpit slowly raised a palm, guiding the swell of their emotions. "They will try to distance you from truth, but you must remain steadfast in your faith: only here can you find your true home."
"Do not let the outside world blind your eyes," his voice resonated with calm and profound depth. "True power, true wisdom, true freedom—they reside with us."
As the silver-robed figure spoke from the pulpit, light gathered about him like a golden sacred mist, shrouding his silhouette in obscurity and rendering his features an enigma beyond mortal scrutiny.
Only beneath the radiant glow encompassing him were those emerald-green eyes—brimming with divinity and compassion—unmistakably clear.
Chapter 252