Truman looked ahead and saw an enormous mountain range that soared into the clouds, its peak obscured from sight.
In the distance, terrifying giant beasts roamed, and the eerie howls of wolves echoed through the air.
"We're actually this close to the Divine Kingdom of the Destruction Demon Wolf?!" Truman took a sharp breath.
It was truly a case of not seeing what was right under his nose!
Truman, wearing the Ancient One's Gloves, reached out as if grasping something invisible—and in an instant, he vanished.
When he reappeared, he had already moved a significant distance away from the Divine Kingdom of the Destruction Demon Wolf.
As he continued forward, a variety of strange and bizarre creatures came into view.
Demon wolves, Misty Treants, Thousand-Faced Hunters—beings that, in later eras, could all be used as extraordinary potion ingredients—were gathered here.
This was the region surrounding the Divine Kingdom of the Destruction Demon Wolf. These creatures, or rather, the extraordinary essence within them, were unconsciously drawn to this place, converging upon these mountains.
And when extraordinary creatures congregate, the result is predictable.
Unlike ordinary beasts, which eventually grow full and stop hunting, these beings only grew hungrier the more they devoured.
Bloodshed, madness, grotesque sights—scenes that challenged the very limits of human perception played out before Truman. Some creatures fell into insanity from consuming too many conflicting traits, while others miraculously survived the chaos and ascended to a higher level—so-called "chosen ones."
Truman observed for a long time, once again marveling at the chaos of this era before the first Profane Slate's sequence formulas were discovered.
At this point in time, even the name of the Ancient Sun God had yet to be passed down, and the Profane Slate did not yet exist.
He was about to leave when the hem of his Sage's Robe lifted slightly. With a light flick of his fingers, he used the Ancient One's Gloves to manipulate the spirit threads in the area.
The Sage's Robe was constantly analyzing the knowledge of this world, and Truman's Ancient One's Gloves were a key part of that process.
Thanks to his mimicry as a Traveler, Truman could manifest many abilities at will.
"Why not reveal yourself, Saint?" Truman called out—not with the intent to harm but with a gentle tug at the spirit threads, forcing the hidden presence to emerge.
If Truman was addressing them as a "Saint," then they were undoubtedly no weaker than a future Sequence 4.
At that moment, a figure abruptly materialized from thin air.
It was a young man with a tense expression, clad in a gray-white robe. His hair was thick, his demeanor refined—though his features were rather unremarkable.
"Are you a god?" the young man asked, his voice tinged with unease.
However, both the Dream Book's perception and the Sage's Robe's analysis told Truman that this person held no reverence for so-called deities.
He was studying Truman, his gaze as lofty as a dragon overlooking the world. It felt as though none of Truman's actions could escape his scrutiny.
More than that—something was vanishing…
The hypnosis and artificial personas of the Audience Pathway… Was he making Truman forget certain memories? Modifying his personality in subtle ways?
If not for the combined warnings from the Dream Book and the Sage's Robe, a warrior or another demigod might have lost even their traits to this man's deception.
Truman stared at him, then realized something. "You're human?"
Yes, this was a human.
The young man's expression shifted just enough to be convincing, but Truman's own expression turned slightly peculiar.
"What's your name?" Truman asked.
"Hermes." The young man was already searching for an escape route, an invisible force spreading across the spiritual level.
Truman smiled. This was almost like a dream come true.
It was one of his goals for venturing out, and he had run into it immediately upon leaving.
Truman loosened his control over the spirit threads, allowing the tense atmosphere to dissipate.
"I'm not a god—I'm human," Truman explained to the so-called Saint.
He held a certain respect for this foundational figure of human mysticism. After some thought, he withdrew the divine concealment of his Holy Emblem, making Hermes' eyes widen slightly.
"You really are human?!" Hermes confirmed, sensing that Truman's spirit bore no signs of corruption or divine pollution—it was purer than that of a newborn infant.
"But…" Hermes still had doubts, though he at least appeared more relaxed.
In this era, Hermes was still young, carrying an idealistic vision of forging an extraordinary path for humanity. His strong sense of belonging to the human race made Truman's identity a significant factor in easing his wariness.
And truth be told, the humans of this age were almost excessively simple and honest…
"You're observing how these extraordinary creatures evolve?" Truman turned his gaze to a Thousand-Faced Hunter in front of Hermes—one of the so-called "chosen ones."
During a chaotic battle, it had devoured the crystal of a Six-Winged Gargoyle, experiencing a stroke of incredible luck that granted it immense power.
"Are you studying them to find a pattern?"
"Well… a Sequence 6 advancing to Sequence 5 isn't a huge leap. With a bit of luck, it's reasonable—though insanity is a given," Truman commented.
Though a simple observation, it made Hermes' eyes widen in shock.
The term "Sequence" was unfamiliar to him, yet, with his deep foundation in mysticism—one strong enough to remain relevant even in future eras—he could vaguely grasp the profound implications behind it.
It represented order—it was hope for humanity!
Whoosh!
Even a Saint of the Dragon Pathway (what would later be known as the Audience Pathway) couldn't hide his thoughts. His hunger for knowledge was so intense that even Truman's Sage's Robe responded to it.
"Will you teach me about this Sequence?" Hermes lowered his head and humbly requested.
Truman chuckled. "Of course—but I have a small request."
"Take me to the major human city-states. I need to find certain people."
"…No problem," Hermes hesitated briefly but ultimately agreed.
After all, the man before him was a pure human—surely he couldn't be worse than those supernatural races that enslaved or even fed on humans, right?
Right now, Hermes likely had no concept of the term "traitor to humanity"…
"Good. But let me ask—how did you become a Saint? It seems to have some connection to the Sequence knowledge."
Hermes pondered for a moment. Truman's insights, far beyond their era, were dazzling to a seeker like him, stirring even greater curiosity.
"When my city-state was destroyed by a monster, I forcibly consumed a crystal infused with mystical power…" Hermes briefly recounted the experience.
"So Hermes is essentially equivalent to a future Sequence 4 Manipulator…" Truman mused. "And at the moment his city fell, despair and the resonance of a willingness to fight to the death likely triggered a ritual—albeit by accident."
"You were lucky. But you were also remarkable," Truman noted.
The key to a Manipulator's ritual was resonance. Without a determination to perish alongside the city, the ritual wouldn't have succeeded.
"And what are your thoughts on your next advancement?"
As the two walked away from the chaotic battlefield, they discussed Sequence knowledge.
The Spirit Realm faithfully recorded everything, ensuring that future scholars, through the mist of history, would glimpse one of humanity's most significant moments.