They were the first to hear of Merlin's theories, and all his viewpoints were castles in the air, just like the theories of the Old Gods and the "world's edge".

"You must have seen his manuscripts."

Until the end of his life, Merlin held firm to the belief that the Old Gods guarded the edge of the world. As long as they could break through that final boundary, consciousness could awaken in the world outside the "box." "But he probably didn't document his failures there, did he? Before coming to this plane, he had failed seven times, each time bringing irreversible disaster to the plane he was on, causing tsunamis that flooded entire continents or witnessing civilizations perish in erupting volcanoes... These were the 'heroic deeds' Merlin once accomplished."

The King of Gold raised his voice, his emotions becoming somewhat agitated, clearly showing his long-standing grudge against Merlin. Even though Merlin had long since passed away, he couldn't let it go. "And why have you come to face me? If you think I am a bad person, then Merlin's deeds are a thousand times more evil than mine, this time being no exception."

Seeing that Ethan offered no rebuttal, he continued, "The 'world's edge' is nothing but another unproven conjecture, and to verify his theory, he decided to release the sealed Old Gods. What if he fails again? What if this place is not the border leading out of the 'box'?"

Cynthia's face was as calm as still water, clearly influenced by the King of Gold.

Because Merlin's own manuscript also explicitly mentioned this fact.

To verify the correctness of his theory, he intended to break the seal of the Old Gods and release those indescribable entities. She was well aware of the consequences of doing so. Even if Merlin's theory was validated and he returned beyond the "box," this plane would also be destroyed in the fury of the Old Gods.

Perhaps like a continent swallowed by a tsunami, a city engulfed by a volcano, Merlin never cared about the lives of others.

The King of Gold was an incorrigible scoundrel, but Merlin was certainly no better.

This was the truth Cynthia had come to understand after joining the council for so many years—every person who climbed to a high position in the council realized that all their glory was built upon the sacrifices and sufferings of others.

"At the very least, I will let the residents of the Golden Kingdom survive."

A sound akin to a sneer came from beneath the golden mask, "And what about you? Will you continue to defend Merlin and make an enemy of me because of him?"

As the King of Gold's emotions shifted, liquid gold cascaded down like a waterfall from above Ethan and the other two.

The three were forced to take a few steps forward, breaking into the altar's perimeter. Looking back, the path they came from was already engulfed in scorching liquid gold, everywhere in sight was bubbling liquid like magma.

The array behind the King of Gold burst into blinding light.

"Be careful!"

Noticing the scorching liquid gold splashing toward the three of them, Cynthia hastily embraced Vivian, moving her to a safe position.

She was fully aware of the consequences of being touched by this liquid gold—in the Golden Kingdom, it was a torture specifically prepared for those "incorrigible" opponents, and this molten gold was more like a virus; even the slightest contact would swiftly assimilate the body, then melt it into the same liquid.

Under the manipulation of the King of Gold, those melted opponents would be reshaped into other objects.

A rumor circulated within the council, suggesting that the divine artifacts controlled by the King of Gold were all converted from the souls of the opponents.

Their identities were similar to Cynthia's, maybe heroes of some plane, or even deities in people's eyes. After being recast by the gold, their souls and abilities belonged eternally to the King of Gold.

The surroundings were becoming increasingly hot.

Liquid gold splattered onto the ground, rapidly stripping away their footholds at a visible speed.

Cynthia was overwhelmed, shuttling through this constantly melting space. She plucked her bowstring, yet the arrows emitting a silvery-white glow turned to liquid upon nearing the King of Gold, falling to the ground.

Even incorporeal energy could not escape the fate of being assimilated.

"Cynthia, your story can come to an end now."

The King of Gold gazed at the still moving figure; to him, it barely counted as a splendid swan song. He had already decided on Cynthia's new identity, "How about turning you into the bowstring you like most? In the future, you will also diligently serve me, clearing the Golden Kingdom's enemies."

As he spoke, all footholds disappeared, and Cynthia drew ever closer to the King of Gold. She had to rely on energy to keep her body stabilized in mid-air. For a mid-level god, this should not pose a problem; however, the space she inhabited became increasingly unstable with time, like being inside a giant beast's belly, with everything around being corrosive liquid.

The King of Gold, from beginning to end, merely stood on the steps of the altar, watching Cynthia's ceaseless flight through the slits of liquid gold with a calm gaze.

This awakened her worst memories.

Before the Old Gods, their resistance could stir no more waves than it did now.

A few more arrows fell short; driven by the liquid gold, she was already on the steps of the altar. Yet the King of Gold merely opened his arms towards her, like an elder welcoming a lost child home.