Chapter 1264: Stepping into the Divine Realm

At the same moment, at the border between Cecil and Typhon, stood Covenant Fortress.

The immense energy unleashed by the three power towers churned visible magical vortices in the air, reminiscent of the colossal beam once emitted by the Deep Blue Well. From the towering spires, a piercing shaft of light shot straight into the sky, a breathtaking display of raw arcane power being gathered, transformed, and transmitted into the fortress’s central hall. There, it was converted into a surging arcane current that stabilized the portal.

The massive portal device emitted a low, resonant hum. A circular, mirror-like spatial gateway floated silently at the center of a curved alloy beam. On its polished “surface,” the landscape of the “other side” shimmered into view—once only described in religious tales and sacred rites, now a real, accessible world.

This was the realm of the gods.

Kamail, Windsor Mapel, and Daniel gathered before the portal, personally overseeing the final preparations for the next phase of exploration. Nearby, a brass-shelled, intricately jointed autonomous magical automaton—the “Explorer”—rested quietly on a charging platform, undergoing inspection and maintenance by several technicians.

This advanced AI creation from Typhon had contributed greatly to the project. Over time, it had completed sixteen routine explorations beyond the portal and two “extreme walks” testing the limits of magical energy depletion. Its once gleaming exterior was now heavily worn, its mechanical limbs scratched and battered. The internal mana storage had endured repeated “energy exhaustion” trials, even requiring replacement once. Yet, thanks to meticulous upkeep, the automaton’s overall performance remained sufficient for upcoming missions.

“Through these explorations, we’ve roughly mapped the environment beyond the portal,” Windsor Mapel said, eyes fixed on the silver-white platform etched with complex runes and embedded with precise crystals. A clear holographic projection hovered above it, displaying a translucent view of temple plazas, roads, walls, and partially surveyed buildings—the fruits of the Explorer’s recent missions. “All the data is compiled here.”

Daniel raised a hand, pointing to the center of the hologram where the portal’s faint outline hovered. His neural interface cables hung neatly behind him as his deep, steady voice explained, “This is the entrance we opened. The Explorer’s activity radius is roughly a 1.2-kilometer circle centered here.

“This area is an open plaza of unknown purpose. Surrounding structures appear to be made of stone and metal, though they might be mere illusions—the Explorer’s capabilities don’t allow precise material analysis. Further out, we’ve confirmed massive palaces and arena-like buildings, but those lie beyond the automaton’s operational range.

“At present, we can’t determine the full extent of this space—the Explorer’s range is limited, and the signal doesn’t reveal the divine realm’s boundaries. However, based on various war god myths, this ‘realm’ is likely the size of a single city… beyond which lies the chaotic domain known as the ‘Deep Sea.’”

As Daniel finished, Windsor Mapel nodded slightly and added, “Beyond the terrain, the most striking feature of this divine realm is its strange environment. We’ve confirmed that the war god’s domain is depleted of magical energy. Even the Explorer’s most advanced mana recharge systems receive no external energy there. Devices sent through the portal must rely solely on internal reserves.

“We consulted the High Tower, a senior advisor to the Theocracy Council, about this anomaly. Her view is that it relates to the war god’s ‘divine nature’…”

Kamail and Daniel both nodded in understanding.

The “High Tower” was the codename for the goddess of magic, Mirmyna, within the Theocracy Council. Such senior advisors all used codenames due to their sensitive identities—known to the council’s upper echelons and national leaders but kept hidden from the public and lower-level operatives.

Each advisor specialized in different fields: “Divine Egg” mastered ancient secrets and divine transformations; “High Tower” understood the gods of this era and the general state of their realms; and “Mr. Deer” was, amusingly, a master of the card game Dou Dizhu.

Regarding the war god’s realm’s peculiar “mana depletion,” the High Tower offered a confident assessment. Her original words were blunt: “The war god? He’s not the sharpest when it comes to magic. Even his scriptures say, ‘War God Kael scorns using magic to defeat his foes’—he’s just not that bright.”

After refinement, the technicians translated this into a more palatable explanation: the war god’s divine office inherently rejects magical power, creating a natural antagonism between his divinity and mana. This rejection peaks within his realm, producing an unprecedented environment utterly devoid of magical energy.

This posed a huge challenge for most mana-dependent exploration equipment. Yet for researchers, it was a rare “ideal environment” impossible to find in the real world.

The automaton’s preliminary explorations had gathered invaluable data and pushed the limits of unmanned devices. Further unmanned missions would yield diminishing returns. It was time to advance to the next stage.

Kamail lifted his gaze toward the open area before the portal. A group of heavily armored “vanguard explorers” were making their final preparations.

To ensure living beings could safely enter the war god’s realm, the technical team behind the “Gate” project had painstakingly considered every detail. From selecting the first explorers to designing their protective gear, hundreds of trials and debates had shaped the plan. The vanguard before him was the result—unexpected to many, but perfectly logical to Kamail.

They were the White Knights of the Cecil Empire.

To outsiders unaware of the full story, White Knights were heavily armored clerics of the Holy Light Church, inseparable from the church’s hierarchy. Sending them to explore another god’s realm seemed puzzling. But Kamail knew these so-called “clergy” were actually the best candidates to confront divine phenomena—

Their will was unshakable, and they possessed a clearer theological understanding than most technicians. They were the earliest fruits of Cecil’s “anti-divine” program, each rigorously trained to resist spiritual corruption even without Deep Sea runes or other protections. They wielded a new form of holy light—a “clean” divine power fully controllable by mage technology—granting them additional defense.

Most importantly, the White Knights were physically formidable and experts in wielding their intimidating, heavy powered armor.

That armor could house more divine protection gear and additional mana storage crystals. The former kept them safer in the divine realm; the latter ensured longer operational time in the mana-starved environment.

Covenant Fortress’s mage engineers had modified the White Knights’ armor to better suit exploration beyond the portal—the ample internal space made upgrades easier.

Of course, the White Knights were not technical experts and couldn’t serve as frontline scholars. Their role was “vanguard”: the first mortals to cross the gate, assess safety, and establish a temporary base. Once stable, the real researchers would follow.

The White Knights’ preparations were nearly complete. Kamail heard the faint clicks of locking mechanisms sealing their armor.

“It’s time for me to move,” Kamail said, levitating as a resonant hum vibrated from within him. “After all this preparation, the moment has finally come.”

“Master Kamail,” Windsor Mapel couldn’t help but speak up, seeking confirmation despite the plan being set. “Are you sure you want to go yourself? You know what’s out there…”

“We have solutions in place, don’t we?” Kamail’s voice buzzed softly, a hint of a smile in his tone though unreadable on his face. “The environment there prevents mana absorption, but it doesn’t affect the ‘stored mana’ we bring in. Theoretically, the more stored mana, the safer and longer we can operate. And I carry more mana reserves than anyone here—more than any device except those three power towers.”

“True, you could theoretically stay active there longer than anyone else. But your current life form is essentially an energy being, making the mana-depleted environment especially dangerous for you,” Windsor Mapel said gravely. “Ordinary people might just faint, but you…”

“Don’t worry. I’m going for research, not a suicide mission. I won’t just rely on my own mana to tough it out—the ‘solution’ we devised will come into play,” Kamail buzzed. “Besides… don’t forget, we have a powerful ‘ally’ ready to assist once personnel enter.”

“‘High Tower,’ huh…” Windsor Mapel murmured thoughtfully. “Indeed, she sent word that she’s already in position…”

Kamail nodded, saying no more. He floated toward the White Knights, who stood ready, awaiting orders. After a brief briefing with their leader, he led the way toward the portal.

The White Knights followed, their heavy footsteps echoing through the fortress’s historic hall. They carried a large cache of “vanguard equipment” and heavy supply crates, stepping steadily toward the mirror-like spatial gateway.

Once the White Knights had entered, the maintained Explorer automaton leapt down from its platform, its long mechanical limbs swinging as it followed the team. This time, it would serve as an auxiliary unit, assisting personnel on the other side.

In a brief moment of disorienting weightlessness and interrupted consciousness, Kamail felt as if he had crossed an invisible veil.

The veil was only a thin layer, yet passing through it felt as if traversing an impossible distance—one that defied the laws of physics and spatial structure. Kamail seemed to hear countless voices erupting all around him in an instant, only for them to vanish like phantoms in the blink of an eye. All these strange sensations lasted but a fleeting moment. The very next second after crossing that “mirror,” Kamail felt as if he had firmly set foot in another realm.

That sense of “solid footing” was purely psychological—he was actually still floating in midair. Due to his unique physiology, it had been a long time since he’d truly felt the ground beneath his feet.

Kamail drifted forward, his vision filling with an immense plaza. Towering walls and grand halls loomed in the distance, while a murky sky stretched overhead, blanketing the vast space. It was exactly the kind of “landscape” the explorer automaton had recorded.

But seeing it with his own eyes was an entirely different experience from viewing a holographic projection.

Heavy footsteps echoed behind him. The White Knights had already crossed the portal, followed by the clattering of the explorer automaton’s mechanical limbs.

“This is the Divine Realm… the forbidden zone for mortals…”

Kamail listened to the sounds behind him and couldn’t help but murmur softly to himself. All his old wishes, all his past regrets and memories—they suddenly converged in this moment, only to quietly dissolve into nothingness.

He floated silently before the portal, unable to summon any vivid expression or shed a single tear of emotion.

Then, an abrupt sensation of “drifting away” surged through him, breaking the fragile thread of his thoughts.

The ancient arcane master lowered his head and saw the arcane energy on his body flickering with a peculiar rhythm. A growing sense of his internal magic—and even his very essence—“evaporating” became unmistakable. He clearly felt the magical power sustaining his form being steadily consumed. The next moment, he became even more aware of the surrounding environment’s overwhelming… “vacuum.”

The bright arcane glow at the crown of his head flared suddenly—he widened his “eyes.”

It was the first time in his life he had experienced such a feeling: utterly alien, incredible, yet long sought after!

The sensation of magic draining away intensified. Every bit of loss was a depletion of his “life’s foundation.” Yet Kamail was filled with immense joy. Were it not for the twelve White Knights behind him and a crowd of colleagues watching from the other side of the portal, he might have shouted out in excitement!

But Kamail did not let this overwhelming joy cloud his mind. Once the White Knights had transported the initial exploration equipment to a clearing near the portal, he immediately turned and floated toward a large silver-white metal box. Without hesitation, he split off a stream of arcane flame from his body, connecting it to a crystal embedded atop the box.

The magical radiance shimmering around him instantly stabilized.

This was Kamail’s “solution” as a magical being exploring a magic-depleted Divine Realm:

dragging along a super-sized “mana charger”…

(End of chapter)