Chapter 1268: More Than Just a Rift

No one understood the mysteries hidden deep within the flow of magical power better than a goddess who wielded the authority of magic itself.

Upon hearing Mylmina’s unusually grave explanation, Kamail immediately grasped the gravity of the situation. But as the weight of it settled in, a new question sprang to his mind. “…Have you never seen a rift like this before in the divine realms? From what I know, you often roam the borders between the gods’ domains, observing the changes in the deep sea…”

Mylmina didn’t answer. The former Mistress of Magic’s expression suddenly twisted into something strange. She fixed her gaze on the deep blue rift emerging from the distant vortex, as if sensing or realizing something, yet trapped in a haze of confusion.

At that moment, Malm Dunit, the War God’s High Priest who had come with the group, broke the silence. “This thing does not belong in our Lord’s domain. I don’t know where it came from… It may have existed here for hundreds, even thousands of years. After our Lord’s fall, control was lost, and the divine realm gradually drifted close to this rift…”

As he spoke, a tremor suddenly shook beneath their feet. Kamail hurriedly led the explorers backward. Moments later, they saw fragments of the divine realm’s edge crumble and fall, turning into drifting dust that scattered into the cloud sea beyond the boundary.

This ongoing disintegration showed no sign of stopping—and likely wouldn’t for a long time.

Kamail glanced at Mylmina, who seemed lost in thought. Just as he was about to ask her something, Malm Dunit’s voice rang out again. “I want you to see more than just this rift.”

“More than the rift?” Kamail asked, startled. “There’s something else here?”

“Yes. Another thing I don’t recognize—whatever it is, it definitely doesn’t belong in the ‘Realm of the Gods,’” Malm nodded slowly, turning his gaze toward the distant cloud sea, watching its dim, chaotic edge. “You can’t see it yet, but judging by the timing, it should appear soon…”

“Can’t see it now?” Kamail’s curiosity deepened, a theory forming in his mind. “Could it be that thing…”

“That thing approaches here periodically. I’m trapped here and lack the means to determine its exact position relative to the divine realm or its trajectory…” Malm said slowly, then suddenly raised his hand, pointing into the distance. “Ah, it’s coming now…”

At his words, everyone in the exploration team instinctively turned toward the direction of his ghostly finger. Two points of arcane light flickered to life near Kamail’s temples as he stared at the dim, chaotic boundary. Suddenly, a faint beam of light began to rise slowly from the far edge of the boundary—

First to appear was a bright shaft of light piercing through the chaotic deep sea, dispelling the gloom at the cloud sea’s edge. Then, a series of flickering glimmers traced out a massive outline. As the colossal shadow behind the outline drew nearer, its astonishing form gradually revealed itself to all.

Kamail saw a vast arc-shaped edge covered in unknown material emerge first from the darkness, slowly rising above the cloud sea. Behind it stretched a continuous structure of alloy, supporting a “steel land.” It resembled a flat, bizarre giant ship—or perhaps a rootless island floating between chaos and clouds. Its exposed edges were irregular, as if part of a larger structure or designed to connect with other constructs.

The enormous, city-sized object continued to ascend. Its immense boundary disturbed the cloud sea’s edge, stirring silent waves of air. Countless dust particles swirled upward, then cascaded down along the alloy structure’s edges like flowing water. Kamail strained his eyes toward the cloud sea’s far end, observing the surface of this “steel land.” He saw flickering lights, shield-like barriers, and towering structures resembling buildings. Further away, he glimpsed objects of different colors clinging to the land’s edge—things that didn’t seem part of the “steel land” itself, but rather something accidentally “hung” there…

Yet these details were beyond ordinary sight.

Beneath the heavy, sealed helmets of the White Knights came muffled gasps of awe. Quinn, a high-ranking combat adept, spoke in a low voice, “By the Holy Light… what is that thing?”

“No matter what it is, it’s definitely not a divine realm… nor a fragment left by any god or divine kingdom. It’s clearly moving,” Kamail muttered, then suddenly turned to Malm Dunit. “Will it collide with us?”

“No. It moves slowly near the boundary. It comes close, but never collides. It seems to precisely gauge its distance from the divine realm, approaching and retreating on a strict cycle,” the former War God’s High Priest explained without reservation, sharing the patterns he’d observed during his long vigil. “It feels… alive. But I haven’t seen any life—or anything resembling life—on it. Of course, that might just be my mortal ignorance blinding me. In these realms of gods… many things defy mortal understanding…”

“Lady,” Kamail turned to Mylmina, “do you have any insight on this…”

He stopped mid-sentence when he saw the Mistress of Magic’s eyes widen in shock. She stared at the massive shadow rising from the depths of the cloud sea with great astonishment. Whether it was real or not, Kamail sensed an uncontrollable tension and fear emanating from her.

But Mylmina soon regained her composure. She seemed to overcome the deep-rooted anxiety and, hearing Kamail’s call, fixed her gaze on the slowly approaching “steel land” at the cloud sea’s edge. A veil clouding her memory lifted, and her eyes grew wide as she whispered, “I know now. I know what I overlooked… I’ve seen this before! I’ve always seen it! For countless years, it has patrolled between the divine realms!”

Kamail was stunned. “You’ve seen it? It’s been patrolling between the divine realms? But neither you nor Mr. Lu ever mentioned it…”

“It erased itself from our memories!” Mylmina finally found the missing piece. The parts of her memory that had been blocked and concealed surfaced clearly. “The gods cannot see it. Only mortals can!”

Kamail felt his magical energies ripple with subtle disturbances. A shiver, long absent from his soul, surged through his mind—if he still had a breath to draw, he would have gasped sharply. Then he snapped back, eyes fixed on the steel land undulating in the cloud sea, speaking rapidly: “This goes beyond all our contingency plans… We must report this immediately!”

“I’m already contacting Cecil City—hopefully Gawain in Talrond will receive the message in time,” Mylmina said at once. “We also need to notify the Typhon people. Rosetta August is a mortal capable of managing the situation.”

“I’m sending a message to Lady Windsor Mapel on the other side of the portal,” Kamail said quickly. Magical runes swirled rapidly around him as the ancient arcane master bypassed ordinary communication devices, using his control over magic to contact the personnel guarding the portal’s far side. At the same time, he kept watching the colossal entity moving through the cloud sea. After a moment’s thought, he asked, “Is mundane matter allowed to exist in the chaotic space outside the divine realm?”

“Mundane matter? Of course. Although this area blurs the line between material and immaterial, mundane matter doesn’t disintegrate simply by touching the deep sea environment. But this place lies within the ‘radiation range’ of many divine realms, and echoes of ancient ideologies linger everywhere. It’s easy for some…” Mylmina began to explain, then suddenly stopped, her eyes flickering strangely as she looked at Kamail. “Wait, are you planning to explore…? That’s too dangerous! Everything about that thing is unknown. Even the gods don’t know what dangers it holds. And it moves outside the divine realm—it could be heading anywhere…”

The Mistress of Magic’s expression grew extremely serious. “Outside the divine realm lies the vast, boundless ‘deep sea,’ the world’s lowest ripple. Though I often roam near it, the area I can sense is but a speck compared to the entire deep sea. The things down there are a mystery even to the gods. For you mortals, it’s far too soon…”

“I know. I’m not reckless enough to risk my life or others’ for this,” Kamail said, surprised by her mortal-like anxiety. Then he shook his head and added, “But we still have to do something… I have a detection plan.”

His gaze fell on the “Explorer” automaton standing quietly behind the team—a round, brass-shelled construct with long mechanical limbs. A rune-inscribed arm extended from its copper casing, resting on the magical energy storage box Kamail dragged behind him. It was replenishing its power.

Sensing the shift in atmosphere, the highly intelligent and self-disciplined automaton emitted a series of chattering sounds. Its long mechanical limbs twitched in place, and the runes on its shell flickered.

Outside the divine realm, the colossal entity moved slowly through the dust-filled cloud sea, skimming the crumbling boundary of the War God’s domain. It had passed the closest point to the divine realm and, just as when it arrived, stirred silent waves in the cloud sea as it began to drift away.

“…This thing is costly, but Lady Windsor will understand my contingency measures—we don’t have time to hesitate,” Kamail said, reaching out to the automaton. Invisible magical energy lifted the mechanical device, forming a plastic-energy hand that hoisted it into the air. “I hope it completes the mission safely—otherwise, I’ll have to deduct the cost from my own salary…”

He raised his arm, ready to launch the automaton forward, when Mylmina’s voice suddenly stopped him. “Wait.”

“Lady?” Kamail paused. “Lady, we need to understand what that thing really is. The automaton was made for situations like this…”

Without waiting for Kamail to finish speaking, Myrmina snapped her fingers. Instantly, a surge of even stronger magic took shape in midair, dispelling the psionic hand Kamail had conjured and seizing the round, chubby explorer automaton. “I know what you mean. Let me handle this—especially in such a hostile casting environment, I should be more ‘accurate’ than you.”

As she spoke, she raised a finger. The explorer automaton, held by the psionic hand, finally seemed to respond. It emitted a series of chittering mechanical sounds, then its long segmented limbs swiftly retracted beneath its body, transforming the whole thing into a compact, spherical machine. Only a versatile sensor arm extended upward, waving twice in Myrmina’s direction to signal it was ready.

Myrmina pointed toward the distance, and the invisible psionic hand suddenly swept through the air.

The automaton, now in its compact ball form, instantly crossed the invisible boundary of the divine realm, soaring over the roiling, intangible sea of clouds toward the slowly receding “iron land” far away.

Kamail watched tensely, but what he feared did not happen—no missiles launched to intercept, no high-energy beams fired, no sentries appeared to eliminate the intruder on the surface of that “iron land.”

The mechanical sphere descended straight onto the iron land’s surface, landing lightly with the last cushion of magical energy.

It wobbled in place, then several long mechanical limbs extended from the bottom of its rounded brass shell. The autonomous automaton crawled a few steps around, as if calibrating its position and autonomously determining its next exploration plan. Then it quickly scurried deeper into the iron land—while at the same time, the entire “iron land” drifted farther and farther from their view, flying toward the chaotic darkness at the edge of the cloud sea, slowly sinking into the mist.

“…I can feel the automaton’s signal weakening,” Myrmina broke the silence. “In deep-sea environments, orderly magical signals decay rapidly. From here on, it’s up to the automaton’s own capabilities.”

Kamail was silent for a moment, then couldn’t help but turn to the spirit of Malm Dunit. “You said that thing appears periodically and approaches, right?”

“Yes,” Malm replied confidently. “Though there’s no sun or stars here, I have a way to measure time—the thing ‘rises’ from the edge of chaos and comes near every two days. This pattern hasn’t broken once in nearly a year.”

“Good,” Myrmina exhaled softly. “Then we’ll wait for it to appear again.”

She glanced down at Kamail, who was floating beside her.

“Until then, we can start setting up your laboratory, Kamail.”

(End of chapter)