A light invisible to the naked eye emerged from nothingness, surging like a torrent, reflecting a brilliant Cosmos in the sky, scattering rays of light that converged into a magnificent pillar of light, enveloping the entire sky.
The black mist, woven from various desires and emotions, was continuously dissolved by the starlight, rapidly collapsing and dissipating.
Amidst the prayers of numerous believers, the Hidden Sage displayed His divine miracle.
As the Hidden Sage appeared, a misty glow, neither brilliant nor pure, devoid of any color, as if composed of an immense number of illusory things, surged from the Land of Perfection, blossoming in the Astral World, and in an instant, it traversed infinite distances, heading straight for the Hidden Sage.
In the sky enveloped by starlight, an orange-red light suddenly flared, the color of twilight forcefully intruding and occupying more than half of the sky.
With the appearance of this twilight, the surrounding matter, along with the void, began to warp; all things uncontrollably started to decay, including the starlight created by the Hidden Sage, the misty glow descending from the Land of Perfection, and the various desires and emotions interwoven within the black mist brought by the Dark Side of the Universe.
Amon looked up at the constantly changing sky, a slight smile on his lips, and casually remarked, "Things are getting more and more interesting."
After two seconds of silence, he suddenly looked at Leyton and chuckled, "Since neither of us is confident in forcing the other to retreat, how about a temporary truce? Isn't it more interesting to sit in the Spectator stands and watch those high-and-mighty gods fight it out?"
"This way, we also manage to tie each other down. Anyway, no matter what either of us does, it will be difficult to hide from the other's eyes."
Leyton turned his head to glance at Amon and said thoughtfully, "Has the damage to the Uniqueness caused you to lose contact with your main body?"
"Guess?"
Amon pressed the monocle over his right eye, which had several cracks, his tone very calm, with a hint of playfulness.
"I think so. What do you say I seize the opportunity to snatch a portion of the Trojan Horse of Destiny's Beyonder characteristics?"
Leyton said calmly. As soon as his voice fell, the sound of gurgling water appeared at his feet, and pink peach blossoms floated down in mid-air.
Silently, a barrier that was isolated from the outside and difficult to connect with formed around them, blurring the distant scenery.
Amon looked around, and said in a very relaxed tone, "Since Steam has personally taken action, aren't you even a little curious?"
As he spoke, he raised his hand to remove the monocle from his right eye, then pulled out a brand new, flawless monocle from his pocket.
He looked at Leyton, whose eyes flashed with shock, and chuckled, "I am not the main body, and the monocle I wear is naturally not the main body either."
"Since I am not the main body, then of course I can have as many as I want and replace it at any time."
As he spoke, he put the new monocle over his right eye, while the cracked monocle was effortlessly crushed by him, transforming into a faint white stream of light that merged into his body.
After a moment of silence, Leyton said, dumbfounded, "I don't understand the Uniqueness of Error, but I understand the River of Eternal Darkness."
As if countless Wraiths were wailing and shrieking amidst the cacophony, a murky green and black river surged up from Leyton's feet, flowing mightily towards Amon.
Countless transparent souls struggled in the river, pulling at each other, extending arms that were either gaunt, pale, or withered, attempting to drag Amon into the river.
Amon stood casually in place, allowing the murky green and black river to engulf him and pass through him, yet it could never touch him.
Amon crossed his arms over his chest and said calmly, "I gained some inspiration from your Mystical Reenactment. By stealing my position and the concept of my existence, storing them in a dimension separate from reality, and confusing them with certain specific things, I can appear in reality in a state of both existing and being detached."
"You're talking more. What are you hiding?"
"Actually, the damage to the Error Uniqueness hasn't been repaired, has it?"
Leyton stared at Amon with certainty, observing every expression on his face. Unfortunately, I am not a Spectator, so I cannot read minds.
Amon chuckled, showing no urgency at having his hidden secret discovered, and calmly said, "You can try it. Roselle once said that practice is the sole criterion for testing truth. I think that statement is quite good."
"And why are you talking so much to me? Is it to make it easier for you to pay attention to the outside situation while distracted?"
Leyton's body suddenly dematerialized, breaking down into streams of information that flowed freely within this confined space, constantly reorganizing and forming illusory books, stacked layer upon layer, filling the entire space, as if enclosing the entire world within itself.
Each book had a pale purple eye flashing with cold, pure light. The higher the layer, the darker it became, and the more it was filled with madness, destruction, ominousness, disaster, and other auras.
These eyes all stared at Amon, sketching vague human figures similar to Amon on the books, as if they could see everything about Amon and reveal all his secrets.
Amon calmly scanned the surroundings, taking in every book and every eye. He saw a familiar figure on these books, the figure of the dragon renowned for its wisdom.
"Heh, interesting. That old lizard is actually willing to let you analyze its mythical creature form."
After a low sneer, Amon's figure became blurry, like an old television set with a glitch, its pixels flickering.
In this state, the figures reflected by those eyes on the books also began to become blurry and distorted. They flickered, some turning into crows with dark feathers, some into middle-aged gentlemen in suits and top hats, some into ascetics in gray and white robes, and there were even specks of dust in the air, too tiny to be seen by the naked eye...
The figures reflected on the books continuously distorted and repeated, being corrected and distorted, yet none of them belonged to Amon.
Tiny specks of pale blue starlight overflowed from the eyes on those books. They moved swiftly, fixing the figures that appeared on each book, then recording and destroying them.
"Heh..." Amon sneered, pressing the monocle over his right eye.
A colossal, ancient, mottled illusion emerged above his head.
This illusion was like the face of a stone-carved wall clock, divided into twelve sections, each either grayish-white or bluish-black, intermingled but with clear boundaries, and possessing different symbols.
Amon's action seemed to trigger a chain reaction; the same ancient, mottled wall clock illusion was also sketched on the surrounding books, and eyes flashing with cold, pure light observed and analyzed this illusion from different angles.
An illusory chime rang, and on the ancient, mottled wall clock illusion, the longest hand rotated one tick clockwise.
An indescribable, invisible torrent surged from the illusion, as if traveling through a long history, narrating and sweeping through the surroundings.
The illusory books, stacked throughout the entire space, began to shake, as if they could collapse at any moment.
Soon, those layers of stacked illusory books began to turn pages, as if finding a gap in the invisible torrent, quickly stabilizing themselves.
The invisible torrent, as if having traveled through a long history, quickly receded, and Amon's figure disappeared with it.
In the silent stillness, numerous pale white motes of light, wandering freely, appeared on the stacked books. Within each light spot, there was a Worm of Time with twelve transparent segments, destroying each book through deception, parasitism, and theft.
Brilliant starlight overflowed from the eyes on the illusory books, rapidly repairing the damaged books and attempting to analyze the freely roaming Worms of Time. Leyton and Amon were temporarily caught in a prolonged tug-of-war.
Outside Berens Port, Leonard's expression, which had been panicked due to not receiving a response from Pallez, turned resolute. He took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly, and softly chanted the honorific name of The Fool in ancient hermes:
"The Fool who does not belong to this era; the Mysterious Ruler above the Gray Fog; the King of Yellow and Black Who Holds Good Luck…"
As soon as his prayer ended, a strange image appeared in his mind.
The strong sense of familiarity instantly made him realize that this was the scene around him. He quickly found himself in the image, and then used it to locate the deformed feathered wolf that was rapidly running amidst the lightning, continuously emitting insane ravings.
In this image, Ince Zangwill's figure was extremely blurry, almost a blur of blood-red, as if The Fool had specifically processed it to make it easier for him to observe and pinpoint Ince Zangwill.
Leonard was startled for a moment, then chuckled softly:
"I found you."
As he spoke, a faint white light rose from the glove on his right hand, and his body quickly became transparent and illusory, as if he had transformed into a Wraith or a similar creature.
The next second, Leonard's body vanished from its original spot, then reflected in Ince Zangwill's eyes.
Using the Wraith grazed within Creeping Hunger, Leonard used Ince Zangwill's eyes as a mirror to complete a mirror jump, appearing directly beside Ince Zangwill.
Due to extreme bad luck, Ince Zangwill's body, which maintained an incomplete mythical creature form, was paralyzed for a moment by the errant currents on the ground as he ran.
It was this brief instant that prevented him from reacting in time, allowing Leonard to directly stab the abnormally cold-feeling scissors he held into his body.
The hard fur on the eight-legged feathered wolf's body was penetrated without any resistance, and the large pruning shears easily pierced into its only remaining eye.