Li Long United Kingdom Longjing.

The weather outside was gloomy, and Christian sat composedly in front of a desk. A cup of coffee sat in front of him, now cold, apparently untouched, as Christian focused intently on his notebook, writing with serious contemplation:

Why wasn't I the first?

Miss Aries wasn't intentional, I'm sure. In her heart, I should be the first. In the Round Table Conference, I'm the most powerful, most learned, most handsome, most leader-like. Could it be the gap is too wide, causing her feelings of inferiority?

It must be so. Actually, she could be more proactive; once she takes the initiative, I'll show her what passionate response means.

No, that's not right. If it was unintentional, it should be her instinctive reaction. Does she subconsciously think that Gemini boy's position is more important and that he has her greater trust?

Impossible, absolutely impossible. That Gemini boy isn't particularly bright and is full of trouble. What's going on with the Twelve Zodiac Star Disc, accepting such characters.

Why didn't Miss Aries call him first?

Why doesn't Miss Aries seek him privately? Doesn't she want to know more occult secrets?

Christian rubbed his forehead, intensely staring at his notebook.

Knock, knock, knock…

The butler entered respectfully, "Young master, the second Miss of the Marking Family, the eldest Miss of the Potter Family, and the fifth Miss of the Phil Family want to invite you for an excursion this afternoon."

Christian paused for a moment before lifting his head, frowning, "Do I have spare time for that? Do not disturb me!"

"Yes, young master." The butler looked at Christian admiringly, bowed at ninety degrees, and exited the room, quietly closing the door behind him.

As the door closed, the room seemed isolated from the world...

Mist Continent Divpo City outer Lighthouse No. 108.

Batty wore a pained expression, squatting and tapping a wooden fish, yet it didn't ease the whispers' assault, instead seeming to intensify them, making concentration impossible. Deep inside arose a violent urge to smash everything before him. Whenever this happened, the Black Saber within him would release a cold force, easing Batty's heat and irritability. Batty dared not tap anymore, instead curling into a corner of the lighthouse, enduring successive assaults of whispers and the tearing sensation in his body.

Is this the Triune God's punishment for him, for his betrayal and blasphemy?

Batty existed constantly in self-doubt and inner conflict, alternating between belief and skepticism in a recurrent cycle, even considering suicide, the Round Table Conference, Mr. Gemini—everything seemed like mere perceptions. He was on the brink of falling. Batty gritted his teeth, trying to empty his mind, a method long-studied by the Roto people. Emptying was the best approach—do not delve deeper.

Batty's robust body curled into a ball, teeth chattering, convulsing in pain. He could only endure until the whispers passed; there was no other method—this was the Roto people's fate.

His gaze fell on the wooden fish, seemingly recalling the soul-penetrating sensation when Mr. Gemini struck it...

On the boundless sea of wailing, an expedition ship drifted amidst strong wind and rain, its entire hull shrouded in a faint gray aura, preserving it at sea. Occasionally, enormous waves of more than ten meters would toss the expedition ship skyward then hurl it downward into the abyss before it floated back up again.

In the cabin, five black-robed Priests recited a spell to maintain the barrier, their expressions toward the sea carrying a hint of worry, as though some monster pursued them.

At that moment, the atmosphere inside the cabin grew more grave; the captain's hands had been cut off, both eyeballs gouged out, leaving only hollow cavities devoid of blood, appearing shrunken, as though they never existed. His body was stripped bare. "Rosa, we've been friends for years, why betray?"

Cantona asked gently, as everyone aboard was a companion, willing to give their life for a common goal.

Named Rosa, the man showed no fear, instead emitting a sinister laugh, "Cantona, it is you who betrayed, giving up a great future as a Church Court's secret officer to join a Cult. Your fate can only be death, and your soul will wander the Styx, unable to reincarnate forever."

"The Nether God is the traitor, betraying our Lord. When the Lord returns, all will be judged." Cantona said calmly, "Let's not argue these points. What else do you have planned? Speak, in the name of old friends, I'll grant you a quick death, or later, the soul search will be the same."

"Heh, so what if I tell you? You cannot find supplies. Everyone will be cursed to death by the sea. Oh, you won't have to wait. My Lord's Shadow Apostles have already come with the storm, and I will return to my Lord's embrace." Rosa wanted to laugh wildly, but his voice was raspy and powerless.

Cantona shook his head lightly, "So the direction is correct; the undead coffin is nearby?"

"Hmph, my primary task is to find the undead coffin, then to kill you. Too bad." Rosa also believed it could be found, wandering around yet never discovering it. The undead coffin was an island hidden with Death Church secrets, whose location the Death Church found with great effort, while he infiltrated here for this purpose, but islands from the fourth era weren't so easily located.

Cantona offered a faint smile, "You can rest assured, what remains isn't your concern anymore."

Cantona's Netherworld Soul-Catching Saber had pierced Rosa's heart, the ghostly blue flame engulfed Rosa instantly, and soon Rosa turned to ashes, from which emerged a dazed spirit of Rosa's shape.

"Is the course correct?" Cantona asked.

"Correct." Rosa's spirit replied dully.

"Are there accomplices on board?"

"None." Rosa's spirit wavered as it spoke.

"How many Shadow Apostles? When do they arrive?" Cantona continued asking.

Rosa's spirit tried to speak, but suddenly it began to twist and then burst like a popped balloon.

Cantona's Soul-Catching Saber swung, his expression grew grim; a shadow witch from the Shadow Apostles had overseen it, intruding meant close proximity. The enemy previously planned to attack after they located the undead coffin, but he discovered it prematurely, and with Rosa's death, the opponent also realized, likely accelerating their approach.

The situation was somewhat dire; half the crew displayed symptoms of septicemia, the remaining half had mild symptoms. If it persisted, death would come even before the Shadow Apostles' arrival. Where was the undead coffin?

Cantona unrolled the ancient parchment, which recorded the undead coffin's location, inscribed in Hera language, "Resting Place of the Dead."

It should be nearby. The expedition ship circled the vicinity, yet there seemed no trace of the island—only water. Avoid the Shadow Apostles first.

Suddenly, screams came from outside the cabin; among the priests shielding the expedition ship, one suddenly showed pain, and his head exploded like a watermelon, collapsing to the ground limp, the remaining four desperately resisting. Within the storm, it seemed eyes had fixed on the expedition ship.

Cantona and the others rushed out; a powerful force in the sea was approaching, "Cantona, you never fail to disappoint me in disappointment."

The voice pierced through the storm, reaching the ship distinctly. In an instant, all blood drained from Cantona's face; everyone aboard realized what was coming, instantly losing the will to resist, their eyes filled with only fear and despair. They could hardly dream such a grand figure would come in person.

With the voice's transmission, the remaining four priests' heads also exploded like watermelons. Above the sea waves appeared a massive black ship; its sails bore the Triple Nether Fire of the Nether God's Court. At the ship's prow stood a person, a lightning bolt flashed—Cantona felt it clearly—done for.

Nether God's Court Cardinal Hall's First Secretary, once his mentor and superior, Onella Mutti.

Cantona sighed softly, knowing he had been careless. Following the Travel Group's severe damage, Onella Mutti surely predicted his subsequent actions. Likely, upon returning to the Royal City, he was already under surveillance. As a former officer of the Cardinal Hall, he knew all too well the fate awaiting him in the Secretary's hands.

What a pity.

"Death is also a homecoming." Cantona silently thought, a bitter smile appearing at the corners of his mouth, as the Soul-Catching Saber pierced his body. There was no need to hesitate; if captured, the result would be a hundred times worse than death. The struggle between the Nether God's Court and Death Church was more horrifying than any sect's.

The others followed suit; facing the Nether God Court's First Secretary, a swift death was the most grateful choice.

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