The wood nymph from the Creator’s Domain journeyed to the mortal world. She passed through the domain of the God of Alchemy and Desire, then traversed the forests of the Sunrise Mountains.

Stepping out from the shadows of the forest, she saw the sun, low on the horizon, illuminating the entire Land of Sunrise.

Though dawn had passed, the view remained breathtakingly beautiful.

At a glance, the plains stretched endlessly before her.

City after city, town after town, and village after village blended seamlessly into the landscape.

The nymph adjusted the flower wreath on her head and clutched her case in both hands before her.

She gazed at the mortal world laid out before her and let out an exclamation of wonder.

“Wow!”

Saint Raphael had never seen so many houses, nor so many people.

She loved the verdant green of the forest she had just passed through, yet she equally adored the bustling towns now in her sight.

The Land of Sunrise was once a rugged frontier, settled eastward by a branch of Alcina’s followers, the children of the Mother of All Snakes. In those early days, life was untamed. Survival depended on hunting in the forests and fishing in the rivers.

Several hundred years ago, God Iva descended, bringing them faith and civilization.

Over these centuries, the Land of Sunrise gradually developed and grew stronger through the power of its alchemists, ultimately achieving today’s prosperity. If judged solely by wealth, even the smallest territory of the Land of Sunrise possessed riches comparable to Suinhor.

“Oh!” she exclaimed with delight.

“This place is so vast, filled with so many people and such fascinating creatures.”

“I absolutely love it here!”

Wood nymph Saint Raphael rushed down from the heights, startling a herd of toothed beasts tended by a herdsman.

The toothed beasts, terrified by this frightening and strange two-legged creature, cried out as they fled into the distance. Meanwhile, Saint Raphael laughed heartily on the hillside.

“Hahaha!” Saint Raphael laughed, her voice ringing out like a melody.

She tilted her head, a curious smile playing on her lips. “Oh, why are you all so startled?”

“I’m not strange at all. I’m just like everyone else, aren’t I?”

Saint Raphael seemed to understand what these toothed beasts were thinking. She pouted as she conversed with them, trying to explain that she was not strange in the least.

However, the “everyone else” she referred to would be difficult for mortals to define as “people.”

But there was no helping it. She had only encountered a certain kind of “people” thus far.

“You have feet?” she asked one of the creatures, her curiosity piqued.

“Don’t you have feet too?” the creature seemed to retort.

“Yes, but you even have four feet! That’s two more than me,” she replied with a playful grin.

At the foot of the hillside, inside a wooden hut.

The herdsman who raised the toothed beasts heard the commotion outside. Thinking someone had come to steal his beasts, he immediately grabbed a stick and rushed out.

Looking up, the herdsman saw a girl of indescribable beauty standing amidst his herd on the hillside.

She wore a flower wreath on her head and garments of a kind only deities wore in temples. She possessed God’s Form, with two feet that moved quickly and nimbly. She led the toothed beasts as they ran about, her melodious laughter echoing.

The toothed beasts were not afraid of her at all. Instead, they chased playfully after her skirts.

The snake person herdsman immediately dropped the stick from his hand, believing his eyes were deceiving him.

Once he realized what he was seeing, the herdsman immediately prostrated himself.

“My God!” he cried out.

“Oh God, is it truly You?”

“Have You heard my prayers and come down to bless me with Your presence and good fortune?”

The herdsman had recently donated money at the shrine in town and had prayed before the deity for good fortune this year. He never expected his prayer to be answered so quickly.

He suddenly felt a pang of regret, wondering why he had not made more wishes.

He should have wished to become very wealthy this year.

But he had not considered that wishes too heavy might not be fulfilled.

He lay prostrate on the ground, muttering fragments of speech, his words broken by emotional excitement.

By the time he raised his head again, the “goddess” in his eyes had long since disappeared.

The herdsman drove his toothed beasts back. Later, in a corner of the village, a group of people sat discussing the matter.

The herdsman remained extremely excited as he recalled the event, gesticulating wildly.

Most of the villagers were skeptical.

“You saw a deity?” one asked, raising an eyebrow.

“That’s impossible,” another scoffed.

“Come on now, stop exaggerating. Nobody’s going to believe that,” someone else added with a dismissive wave.

A wandering merchant, his case full of miscellaneous goods, immediately sensed something was amiss when he heard the herdsman’s story.

“A flower wreath on her head, you say?”

“And black hair?”

“That’s no deity. That’s a wood nymph, a messenger of the gods.”

“You know the rainbow tree in front of the Miracle Temple in the City of Lights, don’t you? Nymphs use it to deliver messages.”

Among the villagers, some recalled tales of wood nymphs and rainbow trees. One spoke up, “I’ve heard about them! They say it’s a tree covered in colorful flowers, as vibrant as a rainbow in the sky.”

While it was not as extraordinary as encountering a deity, the villagers found this explanation more plausible. They began to nod in agreement, murmuring, “Ah, so you’re lucky to have seen a nymph.”

The wandering merchant, a devout follower of the Dream Sovereign and the God of Alchemy, chimed in with a knowing smile. “Indeed. Nymphs are divine messengers, envoys of the gods. Meeting one is truly a blessing.”

“The gods must be watching over you.”

The herdsman sat on a wooden barrel, elated that everyone now believed his experience. His face beamed with joy.

But as he continued smiling, his expression shifted into reminiscence.

“You haven’t seen her. You cannot imagine what the nymph looks like.”

“She was truly… so beautiful.”

The villagers leaned in with curiosity. “What did she look like then? Can you tell us more about her?”

The herdsman wanted to express the nymph’s beauty, but unlike poets and scholars, he lacked the eloquent words to describe her.

“More beautiful than the most beautiful person you’ve ever laid eyes on. A thousand times, ten thousand times more beautiful.”

After someone had spotted a nymph by the rainbow tree, another legend about nymphs spread through the mortal world.

And this time, more than one person saw her.

Though Saint Raphael deliberately tried to conceal her form, her somewhat careless nature meant that sometimes, upon seeing beautiful scenes, she would forget herself, allowing mortals to glimpse her figure.

As Saint Raphael journeyed, she encountered a diverse array of people, intricate buildings, and vibrant cities.

Each city in the Land of Sunrise had its own distinct style. This was because different alchemists lived in them, manufacturing different items and following different laws.

Some cities forbade drinking alcohol, yet they extracted fuel from large amounts of Curled Ball Fern and other plants to supply alchemists for various experiments.

The name of one such city was Black Fire City. As Saint Raphael passed through, she frequently heard loud bangs followed by billowing smoke in the distance. Yet the city’s inhabitants showed no surprise, remarking that it must be some alchemist’s laboratory at work again.

Some cities prohibited the burial of those who died from disease. All snake people who died from illness had to be handed over to alchemists for research into the causes of the disease. The alchemists in these cities specialized in brewing potions.

Saint Raphael passed through a city called the City of Miracles. There, people excelled at crafting various transparent crystals and gems. They had built tall spirit statues in the city and designed their temples to resemble lamps.

At last, the wood nymph Saint Raphael reached the City of Lights.

She saw the colossal statue of God Iva.

The enormous divine statue stood, towering beside the majestic City of Lights. A wide river flowed past the city and the foot of the statue, heading toward the sea.

The nymph stood at the foot of the statue, looking up at this enormous figure.

“Wow!“

Saint Raphael really liked the style of this statue. And it was so large.

Wood nymph Saint Raphael took out the human head statue that God Iva had given her from her case. She compared it with this grand statue.

She suddenly felt a twinge of regret.

She should have asked for this one instead.

Of course, if Iva had actually given it to her, she wondered how she would have fit it in her case.

But Saint Raphael had not considered this practical problem.

What surprised Saint Raphael even more was that when she arrived at the Miracle Temple in the City of Lights to visit, the elders of the Land of Sunrise were already waiting for her.

During the day, the temple was full of people, so Saint Raphael decided she would look around at night.

And even if the temple was closed, she possessed a door that led directly inside.

At midnight.

She emerged from the rainbow tree, secretly exploring the sights within the temple in the darkness.

All at once, the lamps in the temple flickered to life. A warm glow filled the hall and spilled into the corridors.

One by one, the elders of the Land of Sunrise hurried over. They gathered beneath the temple, prostrating themselves before the one who stood above.

“Welcome, messenger of gods, to the City of Lights!”

Saint Raphael was stunned. She felt she had been very careful and wondered how she had been discovered so quickly.

She walked out from the temple, standing on the sloped, step-less stairway that had patterns instead of edges.

“How did you know I was coming?” she asked.

The leading elder of the Land of Sunrise replied, “The divine miracles you performed along your journey have spread throughout the Land of Sunrise. Following the path of these miracles, we guessed you would arrive at the City of Lights around these days. So, we have been waiting for you.”

The elders looked at Saint Raphael with various expressions. Some were respectful, some curious, some filled with awe.

Of course, some also considered how to use the divine messenger’s arrival to climb higher in rank.

Whoever earned the favor of the divine messenger, and through her, the favor of the gods, could see the Grand Elder position within their grasp.

Many had already begun thinking about how to attach themselves to this heaven-sent messenger.

As for receiving divine grace directly, most people did not dare to even think about it.

This was no ordinary messenger or attendant of a deity.

This was a messenger of the sovereign gods, a wood nymph from the Creator’s Domain.

The high sovereign gods were not easily approachable, even by God Iva, let alone by mere mortals like them.

“Messenger of the gods! Herald of the deities! Wood nymph from the Creator’s Domain!” the Grand Elder began.

“Have you descended into the mortal world to bring the supreme instructions of the sovereign deities to us mortals?”

“We are all believers in miracles, willing to follow Their will forever.”

The Grand Elder of the alchemist council of the Land of Sunrise, who was also the lord of the City of Lights, was the first to ask Saint Raphael the reason for her descent into the mortal world.

He appeared somewhat urgent.

He was a snake person with hair that was somewhat graying, yet it was impeccably groomed.

He wore a pristine white robe and a golden tall hat, distinct from a crown. It was supported by a metal frame inside, with gemstones embedded in the front.

In one hand he held a scepter, in the other a lamp.

“Oh!“

Saint Raphael did not know why, but she disliked this Grand Elder of the alchemist council.

She felt that his aura was gloomy. Though he spoke of faith, he seemed to lack the essence of light.

However, she was not opposed to the alchemists’ help.

No, in Saint Raphael’s mind, it was more a matter of cooperation and exchange.

She wanted to establish a Storage Spirit Realm, but she had not yet found a place she liked. She hoped to find a suitable location in the Land of Sunrise.

And after establishing the Storage Spirit Realm, how should she create and allocate storage spaces?

How could she make it so that deities, and even ability users, could use the storage space, much like sending letters to the Letter Spirit Realm?

The Storage Spirit Realm presented more difficulties and was more troublesome to create.

Saint Raphael did not reject the alchemists’ assistance. In return, she could let them be the first to experience the convenience of the Storage Spirit Realm.

She thought this would be mutually beneficial.

Saint Raphael paused for a moment, then looked down at the Grand Elder of the Land of Sunrise and spoke.

“I haven’t come with any divine decree,” she said. “But I do have something I want to do. I want to create a Storage Spirit Realm here in the mortal world.”

“It would be a place where anyone could safely store their belongings, hidden away in the most secure space, and retrieve them whenever they need.”

“It’s just like my sister Florrie, who gave the Letter Spirit Realm to the people, so they could send letters across great distances.”

“We deliver their thoughts through letters. And now, I want to help preserve what is precious to them.”

The alchemists’ eyes all lit up.

This was a great opportunity.

Undertaking this task might catch the eyes of the deities. Beyond that, even being the first to enjoy the convenience of the Storage Spirit Realm would bring unimaginable benefits.

The kneeling alchemists beneath the temple glanced at each other, a silent understanding passing between them.

An opportunity to change the Land of Sunrise had arrived.

Saint Raphael’s descent had brought vitality to the world of alchemists in the Land of Sunrise.

For centuries, alchemy had advanced steadily, giving rise to numerous technological breakthroughs.

However, the alchemists themselves had grown increasingly inflexible, and internal conflicts had become more severe over time.

The alchemists were divided into multiple factions. The Land of Sunrise was split into numerous cities and territories, never able to truly integrate.

This fragmentation prevented certain technologies from achieving true breakthroughs, and some genuine talents could not access core techniques. Due to these barriers between factions, a large amount of alchemical knowledge failed to be passed down, some even becoming lost.

The sudden descent of the nymph might very well break this fierce internal strife.

It would also drive reforms within the alchemist community, as well as its future development.

The evolution of alchemy.

It would reshape the very fabric of the world—

Saint Raphael visited one place after another.

Wherever she arrived, the local elders would humbly follow behind her. They introduced the scenery of their territories, showcasing beautiful places and buildings.

It felt as though Saint Raphael were an important investor, while the elders acted as careful tour guides, nervously showing her around.

But Saint Raphael clearly was not an easily satisfied investor.

This was not because she was picky, but because she had no clear goal.

If even she herself did not know what she wanted, then the elders of the Land of Sunrise were even more at a loss.

She left the City of Gold, eventually finding herself walking along the coast.

She stood by the sea and spotted something white in the distance, out on the ocean.

“What is that place?” she wondered aloud.

The nymph flew across the sea, arriving at the spot she had seen.

It was a small island.

The beach gleamed golden in the sunlight. It was as if, because this was the Land of Sunrise, even the earth itself had been dyed gold by the sun.

Waves crashed against the golden sand, creating rhythmic sounds.

The sound of tides rising and falling was remarkably distinct.

Standing on the small island, she could see the coast of the Land of Sunrise. The island was not large.

On the island stood a white tower, the white speck Saint Raphael had seen earlier.

She tilted her head back, her gaze drawn to the endless expanse of vibrant blue sky above.

Turning toward the sea, she let the ocean breeze wash over her, carrying with it the scent of salt and freedom.

Behind her stood the tall, isolated white tower. It was grand in style, with mysterious ritual arrays upon it, likely built by a powerful alchemist.

Here was the vastness she wanted, the boundless expanse of sky.

Here were the azure sea and golden beaches, beautiful enough to fill one’s heart with joy.

Here was the mysterious and magnificent white tower, almost as if prepared specifically for her to store things.

She loved everything here.

Saint Raphael wanted to approach, but the tower had a barrier around it.

However, this posed no difficulty for a wood nymph. All ritual arrays borrowed power through the Dream Realm, and wood nymphs were dream beings created by the Dream Sovereign.

“Dream Realm,” she whispered softly, her voice carrying a melodic tone.

“Open a door for me.”

With those words, the wood nymph gracefully stepped through the barrier as if it had never existed.

However, besides the barrier, the island also had a guardian.

He was an unkempt-looking old man.

The old man wore linen-colored clothes. He had tattoos on his arms and face, not for aesthetic purposes or to appear mysterious, but as part of the totemic rituals passed down through his alchemical lineage.

The old man emerged from a hidden corner. He caught sight of Saint Raphael as she darted away with a look of pure delight, and he immediately gave chase.

But she was too fast. Saint Raphael’s two legs moved with incredible agility, gliding over the sand like a bird.

The old man chased after that fleeting figure, as if chasing the wind itself.

He had no choice but to shout, “Who are you?”

“This is the Exile White Tower! No one is allowed to approach.”

“Dangerous things are sealed here. You cannot enter!”

Saint Raphael turned back and called to the old man.

“I am Saint Raphael.”

By now, she had reached the base of the white tower. She stopped, smiling at the old man, allowing him to clearly see her appearance and the flower wreath on her head.

The old man was instantly stunned.

He was clearly not as ignorant as the herdsman. He immediately recognized what kind of being Saint Raphael was.

“Oh my!” he gasped.

“You are a nymph! A messenger of the gods!”

Seeing his dumbfounded expression, his reaction was not hard to understand.

The feeling was as if a character from a story had suddenly climbed out of a book.

Saint Raphael smiled brightly at the old guardian of the Exile White Tower and said, “The elders mentioned I could look around as I please.”

“They gave me permission to go anywhere in the Land of Sunrise.”

Though it was not really permission, for who could stop a divine messenger?

From the outside, the white tower appeared seamless, with no visible doors or windows.

It seemed as though its very design was meant to ensure that whatever was inside would never find a way out.

The tower had external stairs that spiraled around the cylindrical structure all the way to the top.

Saint Raphael immediately began climbing these stairs toward the summit.

However, these stairs were designed for snake people. They were without edges, having only patterns on the surface.

But Saint Raphael was no ordinary person. She was a nymph.

Her leather boots made soft tapping sounds as she ascended, her figure circling the white tower again and again.

She climbed higher and higher, her silhouette becoming smaller and smaller against the sky.

She ran all the way to the top, finally standing at the summit of the white tower.

First, she stood at the tower’s peak and called out toward the distance.

“Hey!”

The sound instantly spread, but there was no response.

But the feeling of standing high up and shouting toward the sky was simply too wonderful.

Then she lowered her head, looking down into the tower.

The tower’s top had a skylight. Through the light shining down, she could see the interior was very large and spacious. Saint Raphael called down.

“Is anyone there?”

The echo returned: “Is anyone there?”

“Is anyone there?”

“Anyone there~”

“Anyone~ there there there~”

Only her own voice echoed back. There was no response from within.

The nymph sat at the top of the tower, extending her hand as if to feel this world.

Saint Raphael felt this place was perfect, exactly the spirit realm she wanted, her own Storage Spirit Realm.

She would incorporate this tower into her realm, then expand it to include the small island.

Ideally, she would even take part of the sea.

She envisioned turning this golden beach and the white tower into a spirit realm. It would be a place she could carry back to the Dream Continent, where all nymphs could share in its beauty.

Before long, the local elder appeared. His expression betrayed a clear reluctance when he saw Saint Raphael showing interest in this place.

Perhaps he felt such a place was unworthy of a divine messenger like Saint Raphael, or perhaps there were other reasons.

“Divine messenger,” the elder began hesitantly, “this place is not what it seems.”

“It’s a prison,” he explained, his voice lowering. “A cage meant to contain evil spirits and dangerous things.”

Saint Raphael tilted her head, her curiosity evident as she looked at the local elder.

“What do you mean by a prison?” she asked, her voice filled with genuine wonder.

“Are there people inside?”

The Creator’s Domain had no jails, and this was the first time she had heard this term.

The elder hesitated for a moment before shaking his head. “They can hardly be called people!”

He explained to Saint Raphael what this place was, and what was held inside the tower.

“All alchemists are believers of the God of Alchemy. We draw fire from God’s Domain, creating Lamps of Covenant.”

“The fire is our power, our source, and also the manifestation of our desires.”

“We use the fire for alchemy. We can manifest the power of desire and divine blood, creating alchemical artifacts.”

“Only the purest among us can transform into lamp fire, or even lamp spirits, after death, entering God’s Domain to be with Him.”

At this point, the elder’s tone changed.

“But some have strayed from the path. Wanting more power, they fuse others’ desires or perform evil sacrifices to strengthen their Lamps of Covenant.”

“Invariably, these people go mad and die.”

“After death, they become evil spirits, and their Lamps of Covenant and alchemical artifacts are also contaminated.”

“They pose great danger and cannot be controlled.”

“This Exile White Tower was built by the entire Land of Sunrise to seal away these evil spirits, their Lamps of Covenant, and their evil artifacts. Normally, no one dares approach this place.”

But Saint Raphael was not particularly afraid. In fact, she felt that if this place was truly so dangerous, then she should definitely choose it.

Wood nymphs, gifted with spatial powers, were known for their unmatched ability to seal away even the most dangerous threats.

Nymphs born from the most beautiful dreams naturally tended toward goodness.

“A place for storing things?” Saint Raphael mused, her eyes lighting up with excitement.

“That’s perfect! I’ve been looking for a place to store things!”

Saint Raphael continued, “If they are good things, I can preserve them, waiting for the day when someone needs them again.”

“If they are truly bad things, then I can lock them away forever, never letting them appear in this world again.”

The elder sighed, bowing his head in resignation.

“Divine messenger, your will is absolute,” he said softly.

“As a servant of the gods, I can only obey. This place is now yours.”

But Saint Raphael shook her head, her voice firm yet playful. “No, no, no! I can’t just take your things without giving something in return.”

She smiled at the elder and added, “I can exchange with you. But first, I need to take a closer look. Let me investigate a bit more before we decide…”

The nymph thought for a long time, finally remembering a term the spirits had used.

“Trial!” she exclaimed with a bright smile.

“Before exchanging something valuable, I need to test it first, to see if it’s truly good.”

“If it meets my expectations, then I’ll decide.”

“Only then will I exchange for this place and establish my spirit realm here.”

Saint Raphael did not use the word “buy.” Or rather, such a concept did not exist in the Creator’s Domain, only in the mortal world.

The elder nodded slowly. “I will agree, but I must ask one thing of you.”

“Everything within this tower must remain sealed inside. None of it can be allowed to leave.”

“There is one entity in particular,” he added, his voice lowering. “Its power, when provoked, is beyond comprehension. Even the Exile White Tower struggles to contain it.”

But looking at the being with God’s Form before him, the elder’s words became less insistent.

“Of course,” the elder replied with a nod. “If you can absolve their sins and free them from their evil, that would be acceptable as well.”

Wood nymph Saint Raphael assured the elder, “If they truly are dangerous, I won’t let them out.”

Inside the cylindrical white tower.

Light shone down from above, giving the interior space an indescribable quality.

Light and shadow intertwined seamlessly.

The light seemed almost tangible, cascading down in a cylindrical column and pooling into a perfect circle on the floor below.

From above, spiral patterns descended gracefully. The tower’s interior revealed countless recessed compartments, each housing a unique lamp, sealed within its own space.

Some lamps were made of metal, some of ceramic, some of transparent gems.

At the lowest level, countless doors lined the walls. Each led to unknown rooms, their purposes shrouded in mystery.

Inside the tower, countless luminous shadows drifted through the air.

These were evil spirits, their forms faint and ghostly, each bound to a Lamp of Covenant that anchored their existence.

They walked on the spiral staircase, seeming to wander endlessly.

Some moved upward, others downward.

But the spiral staircase was strange. After ascending to a certain point, it folded back on itself. Then, the evil spirits began moving beneath the stairs, walking upside down against gravity.

Occasionally, an evil spirit would break through this barrier, climbing to a higher level.

At that higher level, another fold would occur, directing the evil spirit downward again.

Few evil spirits ever managed to reach the highest point of the tower.

And for those who did, there was always someone waiting to stop them.

At the end of the staircase sat a figure slumped against the wall.

It raised its head, gazing at the light shining down from the tower’s top.

This was a strange metal puppet with God’s Form.

Whenever an evil spirit reached the end of the staircase, the puppet would block their path, telling them,

“You cannot leave,” the puppet said firmly, its voice steady and unyielding.

“Each of you carries the weight of your sins, bound by the wrongs you have committed.”

At this, the evil spirits would erupt in fury.

“Don’t you have sins too?” one snarled.

“You carry the greatest sin of all!” another hissed.

“You are the most terrifying monster!” they accused, their voices echoing with venomous rage.

The puppet would calmly reach out its hand, drawing in their rage and desire as if pulling threads from the air. Then it would carefully channel these into a lamp resting beside it.

Soon, the evil spirits would forget why they were angry, even why they had come.

They would dazedly walk back down.

At the edge of the light, countless dust particles floated, occasionally reflecting points of light when they turned.

Brief, fleeting moments of brilliance.

The puppet loved watching these points of light, capturing their momentary brilliance.

Suddenly, a stone embedded in the metal puppet’s chest began to glow. It cast light and shadow that projected vivid scenes into the column of sunlight.

The scenes showed a primordial ocean.

In that ocean were ancient, indescribable, or extinct life forms, along with plants never seen before.

Next, the scenes shifted to reveal underwater cities, ancient and primitive, inhabited by powerful and primordial beings of intelligence.

The puppet seemed to have seen such scenes many times and was not particularly surprised.

“Cities beneath the sea?”

“How could anyone possibly live underwater?”

It paused, as if trying to decipher the meaning behind the images. “What are you trying to show me?”

The metal puppet raised its hand, placing it gently over its chest.

“You are not my heart,” the puppet said.

“Then… whose heart are you?”

The metal puppet suddenly looked to one side of the empty space, as if seeing some figure, something conversing with it.

“Elena?”

“Is that your name?”

“Are you alive?”

“No, you are not.”

“You have been gone for a long time.”

At this point, the light from the stone completely disappeared, and the puppet spoke no more.

The conversation had been confusing and ended quickly.

At that moment, a voice came from above, echoing throughout the tower, again and again.

“Is anyone there?”

The voice was melodic, yet its echoing waves created an unsettling resonance. The puppet tilted its head upward, joined by countless evil spirits within the tower, their gazes all drawn to the source of the sound.

At the tower’s peak, an oblivious young woman leaned over, peering down with curiosity. Unaware of the many gleaming eyes fixed on her from below, she smiled to herself, clearly amused.