At the pyramid temple, the spirit had just returned from touring the spirit country with God. A boisterous group of little spirits wanted to join in the excitement, but knowing God disliked noise, she feigned anger.

The little spirits, frightened by her wrinkled nose and mock-stern eyes, scattered, crying out that Lady Hila would eat them.

She quietly exited the divine hall, but as soon as she passed through the great doors, her demeanor changed.

She bounced down the steps, finally pausing by King Redlichia’s stone statue at the base of the stairs to stifle a laugh.

Her golden robe swirled with her light movements, making her appear to float in the air.

God’s words, “You’ve already done very well,” made the dream spirit so happy she wanted to dance on the spot. She imagined she’d wake up smiling from her dreams for days to come.

These words and the memory of touring the spirit country with God would replace her former beautiful dreams, becoming her new, most cherished dream vision.

“No,” she caught herself. “I promised God I’d do even better.”

The spirit composed her face, putting on a determined expression.

But she couldn’t hide the joy in her eyes.

She would occasionally fly up to the dreamy starry sea to observe the recent situation in the Yinsai kingdom through the dreams of the Trilobite Men. Everything was improving as she had imagined and expected.

The war had ended, and the Trilobite Men had entered a period of recovery and growth.

Although Henir’s ascension to the throne wasn’t particularly honorable, his abilities and methods were undeniable.

He promoted new nobility and issued new decrees.

He opened new fishing grounds, established workshops, and sent envoys to sign trade agreements with the Abyss Kingdom.

The people of the Abyss, rarely seen before, made their first appearances in coastal cities to trade with the Trilobite Men. While this terrified many Yinsai citizens living by the sea, it also brought new opportunities and development.

The entire Yinsai kingdom truly had an air of prosperity. Although major changes hadn’t fully arrived, there was a palpable sense of vigorous, upward momentum.

Meanwhile, she also observed the person Stan Tito had mentioned last.

“Sandean,” she recalled the name of the Trilobite Man whom Stan had dubbed the preacher, chosen to inherit his power and will.

He was a slave.

A descendant of the craftsmen who had once built the Sky Temple, later punished for rebellion against King Yesael.

Stan’s choice of name made it clear he hoped Sandean would spread the power of dreams throughout the world, bringing hope and light to people.

This was also what the spirit wanted.

Although God had already allowed her to establish the spirit country and opened the Divine Cup’s restrictions to release the divine technique rule imprints, there were still crucial decisions to be made. How to harness this powerful force, and who should be chosen to initiate this wave of change – these questions required careful consideration.

She recalled God’s words when receiving Stan Tito, spoken with a sigh.

“I hope that when you ask me for something, it doesn’t always turn out as if I’ve given you a box of destruction. Even when I’ve filled that box with hope.”

The spirit shook her head, saying earnestly, “This time, it will be different. I promise.”

In the God-Descended City, a group of large, strong-tailed “monsters” that looked more like insects than people emerged from the sea.

They passed by a fishing village, heading towards a majestic city in the distance.

The leader wore a stone helmet, something only knights or nobles of the Abyss Kingdom could wear.

Among the other ordinary people of the Abyss, some jointly carried nets full of Ancestral Fish, others bore baskets of rare gems and precious items from the deep sea.

The appearance of the people of the Abyss caused panic among the coastal Trilobite Men, with some even collapsing in fear.

In Trilobite Men’s stories, these were man-eating monsters. Generations had grown up hearing terrifying tales about these sinners.

“Look!”

“It’s the sinners!”

“What sinners? Those are people of the Abyss.”

“Don’t speak nonsense, the king has issued a decree.”

Sandean wasn’t surprised by these people at all. He had already seen King Henir’s decree on the bone tablets hung in the city.

With his wisdom power, he had mastered all the writing of the Yinsai kingdom and immersed himself in numerous poems and historical records. He had learned to pay attention to the outside world, politics, and changes.

He had even learned how to draw maps, write poetry, and a series of other skills.

After all, he had inherited the Tito family library, the legacy of two generations of saints.

He had also learned some rudimentary divine techniques, though unfortunately, his bloodline concentration was too low to become a high-level priest.

In recent days, everything outside had undergone earth-shattering changes.

King Henir had unified the Yinsai kingdom, established a new dynasty, and the royal bloodline families had lost their royal power as the Ruhe beasts exited the stage of history.

At the same time, he had also heard news of the master’s death and return to God’s realm.

The mad Samo king had killed his daughter, Princess Saliman, in a misguided attempt at immortality. He had tried to possess the Ruhe beast’s body through evil secret techniques, ultimately facing divine punishment.

The second-generation saint, Stan Tito, had redeemed everything at the cost of his own life, earning God’s forgiveness, and finally entered God’s realm with all who died in this disaster.

Eternally enjoying beautiful dreams and peace.

“Master,” Sandean had long heard of his death, but each time he thought of it, he couldn’t help but feel sorrow.

He once again recalled Stan Tito’s parting words, feeling the weight on his shoulders.

“I can’t waste time here anymore, I should do something,” he told himself, but he didn’t know exactly what he should do or how to do it.

Sandean had decided it was time to leave his hometown.

He wanted to see Anho, to see the legendary Sky Temple and the Sacred Mountain.

With the establishment of diplomatic relations between Yinsai and the Abyss Kingdom, he even wanted to visit the legendary Island of the Dead where the great poet had suffered, and travel the legendary Saint’s Path and Yesael Route.

Perhaps then, he would know what to do.

He came to the cottage where Stan Tito had once lived, wanting to bid farewell to his master.

Unexpectedly, he saw a group of people searching for something. A priest led them, with a minor noble fawning by his side.

As soon as Sandean appeared, the minor noble spotted him and cried out.

“It’s him, my lord! This slave used to come here often. He must have taken the things from the house!”

His former master, the lord of the fishing village, recognized him.

Sensing trouble, Sandean immediately turned to leave.

But they wouldn’t let him go, hurriedly chasing after him with a group of people.

Sandean swung his stone hammer in defense. The high-speed reaction ability granted by his wisdom power allowed him to quickly knock down the other Trilobite Men. Though the priest was also a junior priest, his combat skills were clearly superior.

Before long, Sandean was forced to roll on the ground to dodge, spilling the contents of his backpack.

The most eye-catching item was undoubtedly the Sun Cup Flower, its cup folded and compact.

In an instant, everyone present froze. The minor noble pointed at the object, his hand trembling.

“The Sun Cup?”

“The forbidden flower.”

“So the craftsman really was the legendary second-generation saint.”

The priest glared at Sandean furiously, as if looking at a mortal enemy.

“So you did take it! Your power must also have been stolen from Saint Stan!”

“Thief!”

“This belongs to the Tito family.”

Sandean protested, “I didn’t steal it.”

“Master Stan gave it to me.”

The priest: “Silence! How could Saint Stan favor a lowly slave like you?”

But no one believed his words.

How could the exalted second-generation saint, the head of the Tito family, give such a precious item to a slave?

The priest charged forward, intending to kill this slave who dared to steal from the Tito family.

“Kill him!”

“Take back what belongs to the Tito family!”

Sandean hugged the flower pot and blew a breath.

The Sun Cup Flower immediately opened, and waves of light followed the flower’s horn-like shape. Everyone charging towards him instantly fell into a deep sleep.

But the priest was clearly less affected. After swaying for a moment, he threw his Ruhe sword, stabbing towards Sandean.

“Bang!”

Sandean reflexively blocked, and the stone pot in his hands was shattered by the Ruhe sword. He fell to the ground as well.

Then, an intense light burst forth from the broken pot.

In the shattered pot, the roots of the Sun Cup Flower were tightly entwined around something, and the light was radiating from that object.

Even Sandean was seeing for the first time that something else had been hidden beneath the flower pot.

After all, this was a gift from Stan Tito, a holy relic left by the great poet.

How could Sandean dare to dig it up and look? What if this sacred object died?

The others present immediately realized what this object was.

The young priest from a branch of the Tito family let out an almost scream-like shout when he saw the object.

“The Final Chapter?”