Zilvra released the little angel, then looked at the Black Dragon and said, "Now is your chance, you can take a gamble. Maybe you can gain your freedom now. Think about it, the multiverse is so vast, Lynch might not find you, right?"

The Black Dragon was stunned for a moment, and his eyes immediately narrowed into slits. He looked up and down at the Dark Elf in front of him, then turned his gaze to the Dawn Angel and the Desire Demon nearby. At times he would lift his neck, majestically scanning the people in front of him; other times he would glance around nervously, sniffing the air.

"Little thing, do you think I will think just because you tell me to think? Do you think you're so great?" the Black Dragon said in a droning voice. "You want to deceive me and make me spend the rest of my life under the pursuit of a Great Mage. I won't be that foolish." After saying this, the Black Dragon yawned, obediently laid his head back on his forepaws, pretending to nap leisurely and comfortably while secretly listening to Zilvra speak.

The female Drow naturally understood what it meant to know when to stop, so she seamlessly turned the topic to Dwarves. "Cavern craftsmen, I don't think you can understand the true significance of a floating castle. Because we are in midair, we need a large number of crossbow cannons, and barbed spears." She spread her arms to indicate a size: "Even if the enemy comes riding a giant dragon, I want them to be turned into porcupines!"

The Dwarves glanced at each other, then burst into hearty laughter. The vision of dragon slaying was like an irresistible hypnosis spell, immersing the Dwarves in the glory they might achieve. Zilvra knew well the temper and character of these guys, only this kind of war-time honor could serve as bait to make the stubborn Dwarves obediently follow orders.

The Rock Spirits were actually the easiest to deal with, a large bag of gemstones could make them cheer joyfully. In fact, they still didn't understand who Lynch was. Only when a mage held gemstones did the Rock Spirits have any recollection—that this person was the owner of their dwelling.

Zilvra methodically issued commands to ensure everyone in the All-Knowing Tower had a task to keep them busy. Work is often the best choice for forgetting things. However, there was one person at the tower who couldn't numb herself through work. As the crowd in the square gradually dispersed, even the Black Dragon returned to rest in a ring. Only Soka with her big eyes still hung with some moisture remained by Zilvra's side.

What she really wanted to do was quickly find Lynch's whereabouts; no matter how she found excuses for herself, she couldn't avoid the feeling of loneliness. Suddenly missing the figure of a person beside her felt like losing a support. But Zilvra didn't know any magic, she was only skilled in hiding in the shadows and assassinating targets. Having parted from the faith and tradition of the entire Dark Elf race, she had no gods to turn to for help.

In Zilvra's field of vision was only Soka's aggrieved little face. She could not get any comfort from her, but instead had to comfort Soka. She thought for a long time, but couldn't come up with any words. Zilvra could only bend down and gently stroke her sister's head in silence.

"Shouldn't we go find Sister Yilinrui, isn't her magic very strong?" Soka suddenly said, "A few times when playing hide and seek with Brother Lynch, I won only with her help. I can fly over quickly and bring her back just as quickly."

Zilvra knew very well those hide-and-seek games were deliberately let by Lynch, so Soka and Yilinrui could trace his whereabouts. According to the Elf's own strength, they wouldn't have greater gains than the Mage Association people. But she didn't reveal this fact, to prevent little Soka from being upset and crying again. "Then set off, be careful on the road, slow down. Maybe by the time you bring Yilinrui here, Lynch will have returned."

"Hmm, I'm starting to feel more and more that Brother Lynch sneaked off somewhere to get us gifts." Soka vigorously nodded, accepting the explanation she had struggled to come up with in her mind. Then she flapped her wings and flew southward like a bird, leaving amid Zilvra's farewell.

The solitary Zilvra glanced around, rubbing her cheeks vigorously with her hands. Before Yilinrui's arrival, there was no helper on the All-Knowing Tower who could help her manage everything. Some people, like the Black Dragon, were wise but not entirely trustworthy; some, like the Dwarves, you could rely on 100% but couldn't fully entrust your hopes. "At least hold on until the Elf Princess arrives." Zilvra thought while mocking herself: "Since when did Dark Elves start relying on those relatives on the surface?"

Compared to here, things were much calmer where Lynch was. After spending several days and nights alone in the Nameless Space, he began to gradually grasp some of its properties. In some respects, this place was similar to that imprisoned Half-plane. Especially when the "Space Law" scroll was on him, he could somewhat alter the environment through his consciousness.

"Perhaps this is the way out of here." Lynch continued his never-ending journey towards the castle while keeping his mind fully active.

The blue sky, white clouds, and soft grass had not changed for days and nights. Some might consider it a magnificent and beautiful picture, but to Lynch, the place was filled with monotony and drab colors. He always had a sense that with each step he took, there was one more step of land. The castle on the horizon was like a carrot dangling from a stick, enticing him, the foolish donkey, to keep moving forward.

"Stupid donkey!" Lynch cursed himself inwardly. Though he unexpectedly burst into such an expletive, it amused him, and a sense of lightness surfaced within his heart. Perhaps only this way could he temporarily forget the various titles and identities weighing on his shoulders, and momentarily relieve the pressure from all those responsibilities.

"Stupid donkey!"

Just as Lynch thought of this phrase for the third time, the scenery in front of him abruptly changed. On the endless grassland, there lay a thick tree stump barring his path.

In this space, Lynch finally wasn't the only living being anymore. Sitting atop that wooden stump was an elderly white-haired man, his eyebrows and beard so long they tangled and fell to his chest, making it difficult for Lynch to see his face. His white, old robe was wrinkled and frayed at the edges but completely spotless. At his feet lay a staff very similar to Lynch's Arcane Wand, but it was covered with scorch marks, making it more resemble a fire poker.

Lynch stood still, waiting for the old man to rise and lift his head. A fleeting brightness shone in the old man's eyes from behind his bushy eyebrows, quickly masked by the deep furrows of his face, but Lynch's insight told him not to overlook such a vision.

At this moment, there were no other thoughts in Lynch's mind; all distractions were banished. Only one voice echoed in his mind, speaking with certainty: "This must be the Magic God."

The elderly man seemed to have seen through the mage's thoughts, and, with approval, chuckled softly.

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