Chapter 140: The Approaching Final Battle

"How long has it been?"

The moment he opened his eyes, Amy looked toward his companion.

"How long… has what been?" Joshua frowned, studying him for a long moment. "Forgive me, I don't quite understand your meaning."

"How long was I lost in thought?" The boy, realizing the ambiguity of his question, clarified.

"Lost in thought?" The silver-haired, red-eyed Glorious One shook his head. "Not at all. You were just discussing the Great Flood with me—why, did something happen?"

"No, it's nothing." Amy paused, then added, "I just saw something concerning."

"Such as?"

"Flashes of the future." The black-haired, black-eyed boy did not mind revealing a facet of his abilities. "I saw the Deep Ones—or 'fish-men,' as you call them—battling the main force of the Glorious Ones."

"And then?" Joshua knew that the futures Amy glimpsed never ended there.

"They were ambushed." The boy gestured in the air. "The front line pushed too far forward and was encircled by the fish-men near the Wall of Sighs. Worse yet… they were struck by high-ranking entities among the fish-men, similar to priests. The situation is not optimistic."

"That is grim indeed." The silver-haired, red-eyed Glorious One acknowledged his friend's assessment; he seemed quite familiar with the nature of precognitive abilities. "But can you determine the timeframe of this future you witnessed?"

"I cannot." Amy did not intend to lie, but since he was not yet familiar with this newly manifested branch of his power, he could only remain vague. "All I can be certain of is that it is not a distant future."

"If that is the case, the worst-case scenario is that this future may have already become reality before we could make contact with the main force." Joshua gently stroked his chin. "Since we cannot determine how urgent the situation is, we must race against time."

"Understood." A race against time it was.

Having established their objective, the two immediately moved. Because the anticipated Great Flood had not arrived, the lift functioned perfectly, and they departed the Tower of the Supreme without incident, heading nonstop in the direction Amy had determined in his vision.

At first, finding the right path in the darkness was difficult, as Amy was not actually familiar with the Upper District. However, the task soon became much clearer.

A landscape pitted with craters and littered with broken remains guided their way. As the clashing of blades and the clamor of battle grew distinct in their ears, the two finally caught up to the main force that had ventured deep into enemy territory.

Before them stood the Wall of Sighs, which separated the Upper District from the Lower.

"Thank goodness we made it," Amy breathed a sigh of relief. "If we had been even a moment later, the trouble would have escalated exponentially."

Given the combat prowess of the Glorious Ones and the suppression of their firepower, even surrounded by Deep Ones, the situation had not yet reached an irreparable state. The key issue was the impending backstab.

Those high-ranking Deep Ones who had mastered chaos magic could cause immense trouble for a Glorious One even in a one-on-one fight, let alone an ambush from the rear. Although he had not seen the end, it was predictable that a volley of javelins would leave dozens of Glorious Ones incapacitated. Once they were out of the fight, the enemy would bring in new elite units, and the situation would become dire. Even if the bigwigs in the Council had hidden trump cards, it would likely result in a pyrrhic victory—a victory that the Glorious Ones and Hermetica could ill afford.

*Well… though it is already miserable enough as it is.*

"Let's move," Amy said, shaking off his stray thoughts as he looked at his friend. "By the way, Joshua, do you recognize that girl being protected in the crowd?"

"Which one?" The silver-haired, red-eyed Glorious One scanned the area and replied, "She looks familiar, but I can't put a name to her face."

*You wouldn't happen to think every pretty girl you see looks familiar, would you?*

Amy thought better of saying that aloud. He knew the gravity of the situation; now was not the time to tease his friend.

"No choice, then," he said, stepping out from the dim alleyway. "We are all human; we should be able to understand and trust one another." He spoke the lie, even though he didn't believe it himself.

"Uh, you don't need to worry about that question," Joshua said, looking at him with a subtle gaze. "In a sense, you're quite famous."

Black hair and black eyes were never common. Aside from the Ulysses family, no other house of Glorious Ones in Hermetica possessed such genetic traits. And the Ulysses name seemed to carry a certain weight among the older generation.

"I hope so." The boy shrugged and hurried to catch up with the group of Glorious Ones. Under their wary gazes, he slowed his pace, stopped at a mutually acceptable, safe distance, and raised his hands, palms open, to show he held no malice. "I am Amy Ulysses. My ability is precognition. I wish to speak with the commander."

"Speak here," said a middle-aged Glorious One who had intercepted him. His gaze lingered briefly on the boy's signature black hair and eyes before he continued, "I will relay the message."

"If you insist." Amy scanned the expressions of the others, confirming that this middle-aged man held some authority in the group, and nodded. "But please, tell her immediately—ahead lies a trap set by the Deep Ones. They intend to stage an ambush beneath the Wall of Sighs."

"Deep Ones." The middle-aged Glorious One seemed unfamiliar with the term, but in this context, the meaning was clear enough. "Thank you for your cooperation. I will relay this to the commander."

"Tell her to be careful of the magic circles—no, transmutation circles." Considering that both chaos magic and the Deep Ones were concepts manifesting from his own consciousness, Amy corrected himself. "They are the teleportation nodes through which those half-human, half-fish monsters are invading Hermetica."

"I will relay that," the middle-aged Glorious One replied with a grave expression, though he did not move from his spot.

"If I may ask," Joshua, who had been silent behind the boy, spoke up, "The core of this operation should be the young lady from the Archibald family, correct? Since her ability, 'Mental Network,' can link everyone's consciousness, why not pull us directly into the network? Is it a lack of trust?"

The middle-aged Glorious One looked him up and down before explaining, "This is a necessary precaution. Those half-human, half-fish monsters possess the ability to disguise themselves as normal humans. If they were to be embedded into Gladys's Mental Network, it would cause mental contamination to everyone within it—so, please forgive us."

The heir of Onions.

That title carried far more weight than Amy Ulysses. And it was much more convenient.

"Then can our identities be confirmed now?" Joshua pressed his advantage. Though he was not particularly skilled at interpersonal relations, he was still far better at it than the rather "solitary" boy. "If possible, would you mind letting us connect to the Mental Network?"

The middle-aged Glorious One did not answer, but Amy could feel his spirit—or rather, his consciousness, his soul—being touched by something akin to a tentacle.

"Who are you?" a voice asked through the tentacle wrapped around his consciousness.

"Gladys Archibald."

The voice was somewhat stiff and fuzzy, but it was a straightforward answer. However, the boy was unusually wary of the realm of consciousness, which he was not yet familiar with. "I apologize, I cannot bring myself to trust a voice ringing in my head. If you are truly Miss Archibald, please relay this through that middle-aged gentleman."

"Caution is a good habit." The tentacle of consciousness withdrew.

Amy Ulysses looked up, just in time to see the face of the middle-aged Glorious One, which looked somewhat fierce beneath the bloodstains.

"Miss Archibald wishes for you to establish a mental link with her."

"Understood." Amy relaxed his restrictions on the tentacle's access.

"Are you certain you are not an ability user specializing in mental interference?" after the link was established, the young Miss Archibald, acting as commander, asked. Compared to the stiff, mechanical voice from before, it was now clear that the owner of the voice was a mature, dignified, and intellectual woman.

"I am certain," Amy replied clearly. "If anything, my ability is more of a future-sight."

"Future-sight—a very evocative term." Although it was the first time she had heard it, Gladys found it easy to understand. "Very well… let us speak of business. Please transmit the future you saw to me. If it is you, you should be able to do it."

"Transmit?" The boy was quite honest about his ignorance. "How do I do that?"

"Just like speaking to me, if you wish to, you will know how to do it," Gladys said. "Most people cannot even recognize the existence of their own consciousness, let alone converse with me; they often don't even know when their consciousness has been invaded. But you are different—you have quite the talent in this regard."

"I'll try."

Amy thought back.

The Wall of Sighs, the blood-colored magic circles, the ambush by the Deep Ones, and the final assault—he shoved it all into the tentacle of consciousness in one go.

*Was that it?*

He blinked; it seemed much easier than he had imagined.

But there was no reply.

For some reason, the young lady of the Archibald family remained in a silent state, unresponsive to any calling.

"Don't shove it all in at once next time!" After a short wait, a slightly exasperated voice came from the other end of the tentacle, but it was only for a second. Gladys's voice returned to calm, regaining its dignified and intellectual tone. "By the way, Ulysses, I have seen the future you transmitted—I have a plan here; take a look and see if I have missed anything."

In retaliation, she dumped everything over to him in one go.

However… it was like a stone cast into the sea.

Not a single ripple stirred within the consciousness of Amy Ulysses. Had he not given a firm answer dozens of seconds later, she would have almost thought the information had been lost during transmission.

But judging by the feedback he gave, that was clearly not the case.

*This guy… is not right. Something is very, very wrong.*

Gladys Archibald was certain of it.