The vast sea stretched endlessly, its waves rolling beneath an expansive sky.

Trilobite Men journeyed together across the ocean, spotting a mist-shrouded expanse in the distance.

From their baskets, they retrieved bone tablets. Holding these, their vision pierced through the mist, and the illusion cast over the island instantly dissipated.

The fog vanished before their eyes, revealing a lighthouse.

A lighthouse.

Radiating with divine light.

Beyond the lighthouse stood mysterious structures: a deep castle and hazy stone colossi.

Upon seeing all this, they let out jubilant cries on the sea’s surface.

Their voices brimmed with excitement and disbelief.

It was the joy of witnessing legends come true after setting out amidst doubt and self-questioning, reaching their destination through trials.

“Look!” one exclaimed, his voice trembling with excitement.

“It’s real, the Island of Mist really exists,” another breathed in awe.

“We’ve found it, we’ve really found it,” a third cried out, tears of joy streaming down his face.

As they produced the saint’s chapter, the mist parted like a curtain, revealing a clear path. The lighthouse’s radiance cascaded down from the island, a beacon guiding their way forward.

They passed beneath the lighthouse, beholding the pilgrimage statues of the great poet and Old Stone Helm.

Finally, they saw the legendary preacher.

Sandean, accompanied by three students, awaited their arrival: two Trilobite Men, one large and one small, and a person of the Abyss.

An odd combination, yet representative of the Temple of Truth’s inclusivity and Sandean’s beliefs.

“Welcome to the Temple of Truth,” Sandean greeted them, his voice warm and inviting.

Initially, those seeking the Island of Mist and the Temple of Truth swam here.

Later, they came by boat.

For some students of the Temple of Truth, upon leaving the Island of Mist, began spreading what they had learned to the world of Yinsai.

Boats, too, started to proliferate throughout the realm of Yinsai.

In the God-Descended City and various coastal cities, one could pay a small fee to travel by boat to another city or the Abyss Kingdom.

If you held the saint’s chapter from the Temple of Truth and found a former graduate, you could even board a large ship bound directly for the Temple of Truth.

These students were diverse, and the ships they created varied widely.

There were iron ships, vessels woven from vines, and even stone ships.

They used every conceivable method to build ships from materials they could create.

Some used sails, others oars.

With these ships, trade between the Trilobite Men and the Abyss Kingdom flourished, and the once-calm sea became bustling with activity.

Ships traversed the ocean between cities, laden with Yinsai’s miraculous creations, returning with treasures and minerals from the deep sea.

Each year, new students arrived at the Temple of Truth. Some chose to leave eventually, while others remained.

Within the Temple of Truth, beneath the nine basic ritual arrays, new derivative ritual techniques constantly emerged.

The ceaseless emergence of new powers brought dramatic changes to the entire world of Yinsai and the Abyss Kingdom.

The tides of the era surged forth, and everyone felt it.

Every town and village of Yinsai, every denizen of the Abyss in the sea, their lives began to fill with miraculous creations born from rituals.

The sage Sandean transitioned from youth to middle age, traces of aging gradually creeping onto his shell.

Even Haru had grown into a tall young man.

Over the years, he had never left the Island of Mist, always accompanying his teacher.

Unlike others who entered the Temple of Truth with various goals or lofty ideals,

He simply wanted to sail the ocean of knowledge and truth with his teacher, finding his greatest joy there.

On the castle’s spiral staircase, Haru ascended quickly.

Before reaching the topmost room, he called out, breathless:

“Teacher!”

“Lan!”

“Lan~”

The door opened automatically, and Sandean, seated at a stone table, asked, “How is Lan? Did he send a letter?”

Haru waved the silk scroll in his hand, excitedly telling his teacher: “Lan has been doing exceptionally well lately. He and his students discovered a method to extract sugar from the oil ritual array.”

“Look, Teacher!”

“This is the sugar he produced. They say it’s all the rage in the God-Servant City, hard to come by even with a fortune!”

Haru held up a large cloth bag, revealing snow-white granules inside.

Sandean tasted it. The sweetness exploded on his tongue, a burst of pure delight that seemed to melt away his worries.

Delicious, in fact. Just one taste evoked a sense of happiness.

Although proud, Sandean still shook his head.

“It’s just a trifle,” he said, trying to hide a smile. “His Lan’s food paste and the book ‘From Plankton to Food Paste’ are truly great works.”

Lan had created several methods for producing food from ritual arrays, such as Lan’s food paste ritual, oil noodle ritual, and the newly emerged sugar ritual.

Trilobite Men could cultivate plankton in lakes and coastal fishing grounds using his taught methods.

Through rituals, they could extract Lan’s food paste from seawater. Depending on the plankton cultivation method and the extraction and shaping rituals, the resulting food paste varied greatly.

Some were barely palatable, while others were exquisitely delicious.

This food gradually became a staple for many city commoners and even graced the tables of nobles.

Additionally, using Lan’s food paste as a sacrificial material, combined with the oil ritual array, he discovered a derivative ritual for producing oil noodles.

Lan’s reputation spread to every corner of Yinsai with his food, perhaps even surpassing Sandean’s.

Sandean was the lofty sage, the inheritor of the saint’s will. Trilobite Men felt he was untouchable, like figures from epic legends.

Lan was different; his miraculous creations were entering every Trilobite Man’s home.

Because Lan’s rituals all related to food, people called him the Food Priest.

Even Haru, over the years, had created several ritual derivatives.

Such as the Haru’s Fire Ritual and Haru’s Totem Secret Technique.

Elena Sal, the female Abyss knight, had discovered a new metal production method from the iron ritual, called Abyssal Magic Gold in the Abyss Kingdom.

She became a Golden Knight of the Abyss Kingdom, qualified to wear a golden mask.

Sandean looked at the letter Lan had sent him. Though he grumbled, he was delighted to receive a letter from his proud disciple.

He leaned back in his chair, slowly placing the letter on the table.

A smile spread across his face, feeling much relieved.

For everything was progressing as he had envisioned, just like the new era Saint Stan had wanted to see.

“The seeds of knowledge and truth have finally blossomed into the most beautiful flowers,” he murmured to himself, his eyes twinkling with satisfaction.

On the other side of the sea, outside Anho City.

After returning to his hometown, Lan established several workshops, truly bringing change and hope to his birthplace with his knowledge and power.

Today, he was busy in one of the workshops with a few disciples when suddenly, Lan seemed to remember something.

“I wonder if Teacher has received my letter,” he mused aloud.

“Calculating the time, it should have reached the Temple of Truth by now.”

A student beside him smiled and said to his teacher: “The great Truth Sage Sandean will surely be pleased with your sugar ritual.”

Lan shook his head, a fond smile playing on his lips. “He won’t be happy at all. He’ll definitely say…”

He imitated his teacher’s tone: “How is this just a little trinket.”

“My food paste is his favorite masterpiece. He always says he hopes I can create more food that can be mass-produced, food suitable for the common people.”

In the Abyss capital, the former Yesael City.

The woman wearing the golden mask had just returned from an audience with the Abyss King and sat down, somewhat tired.

She suddenly noticed a mural carved on the wall, with four characters written in the bottom right corner.

“The Will of the Saint.”

Elena suddenly recalled the words Sandean had spoken, the anticipation in his eyes and his longing for the future.

“Teacher,” Elena whispered, her voice filled with awe, “you really have changed this world, haven’t you?”