"..."

Rogel rubbed his temples, showing a trace of spiritual fatigue between his brows.

Although he tried, the outcome was as expected.

No miracle occurred, only a bloody reality awaited.

Since he couldn’t find a better way, he would let things remain as they were here...

"Hah..."

The Dark Dual Spirits on the sacrificial platform let out a pleased raspy sound.

A moment later, it turned into a wisp of smoke and slowly dissipated.

Leaving behind only a few withered black corpses...

...

The provisioning for the Gelin was almost done.

Before leaving, Rogel found that priest again to ask some questions.

"Leaving here?"

"You also sail the seas, you should know how dangerous migration is. Besides, if we leave here, it would be difficult to find such a good place again."

The priest smiled bitterly, it was impossible for him not to feel sorrow over the death of the two children, but there was nothing he could do. The children of the Black Peanut Swamp had no choice but to endure such a fate from birth, as he once did, only luckier.

"You might not believe it, but it is precisely because of the presence of the Source of Dual Spirits that there are not many Extraordinary Clans in the Black Peanut Swamp."

"The sacrifice for the Source of Dual Spirits is chosen by itself, so no matter what identity, anyone might be selected."

"The Source of Dual Spirits might not be a benevolent existence, but it allows most people here to survive..."

...

A little more than a month passed in the blink of an eye.

The construction of Magrela was now completely on track.

Sharo was working on matters of the island in her room.

An aide knocked on her door.

Soon, at her signal, the aide presented a report.

Sharo took just one glance before furrowing her brows, then earnestly read it.

A moment later, she handed the report to Tariq, and began to rub her temples, pondering a strategy.

After looking at it for a while, the corners of Tariq’s mouth couldn’t help but lift slightly: "It’s quite unexpected that the actions orchestrated by the Kizi Church and several other churches failed."

"Quite normal, as it’s a very old church, deeply rooted... However, they suffered considerable losses as well. This war broke out in their most vital territory, the Mother Goddess Land..."

Sharo narrowed her eyes.

"But strangely, this war didn’t seem to trigger a large-scale divine conflict. The Mother Goddess Church apparently used some special means to repel the other churches..."

Upon hearing this, Tariq calmly said, "Better this way, the more they fight destructively, draining their own strength, the safer our position."

"However, it’s said that the Mother Goddess seems to have fallen into slumber, no longer responding to Her believers..."

"This church war might just be a test by various churches, if it goes on like this, once they perceive the Mother Goddess Church’s weakness, they’ll possibly converge to completely divide the Mother Goddess Land..."

Sharo listened quietly to Tariq’s analysis.

After a moment, she spoke: "For now, we can’t worry about so much."

"The major trends within the Sea of Confession only matter to us in terms of the safety dynamics of Magrela."

"Now that Magrela is steadily on track, the Kizi Church presumably lacks the energy to focus on us for now."

"So..."

Sharo got up, looking at the sea chart behind her.

Beside Magrela Island, there was another piece of land, though smaller than Magrela.

Tariq was quite surprised, "Actively exploring? You didn’t say that before, weren’t you planning to continue observing His situation?"

"Not worried about His downfall?"

As Defiers,

Sharo and Tariq could not immediately become devoted, zealous believers after joining the Master of the Black Tide.

Upon hearing his words, Sharo showed no embarrassment but turned to look at him, with a very serious expression.

"Tariq, do you know, I am indeed very afraid of His transformation, becoming like other gods, with countless blood stained under His radiant throne."

"But now, I fear more that this Black Tide Secret Society, which can bring happiness to most, will be crushed to dust in the coming major trend..."

"Tariq, as Believers, we have no choice."

"But if there’s a shred of hope, we should grasp it, shouldn’t we?"

After listening, Tariq understood Sharo’s point.

He nodded and then said, "Then go seek His permission."

"I’ll go later," Sharo said, then as if remembering something, "What’s the current situation with that Extraordinary person, is there a way to keep him?"

"Unlikely, he seems to be quite stubborn."

Tariq replied.

...

Mire of Decay, on the pirate ship.

Finmage stood at the edge of the deck, stripping off his clothes and pants, tossing them to a nearby subordinate.

After confirming the surrounding position, he took a deep breath and leapt into the putrid pool below.

Plunk.

Finmage dived down.

In this murky and foul water, he began to search for something he had once discarded.

If he were an ordinary person, it would certainly be akin to finding a needle in a haystack.

But Finmage was, after all, an Apostle Level Extraordinary, and he was a good swimmer.

Thus, he quickly found the pitch-black Mark.

Grasping it in his palm, carefully wiping off the mud, Finmage surfaced and, with the help of his subordinates, climbed back onto the ship.

"Huh, boss, isn’t this the thing you discarded before? Why did you retrieve it again?"