Back in the mountain cave of reality, Rhett was suddenly startled by the scene before him.
"Where are the shells? My shells?"
Uncontrollably, Rhett let out a cry of surprise. Looking at the ground, he saw that the shells had lost their luster and were now filled with tiny cracks, reverting to rainbow-colored shells with none of the previous strange energy.
They had turned completely ordinary, much like the kind one could easily find on any beach.
These were objects meant for repeated use, and now, with no warning, they were gone. Rhett felt a pang of regret deep within.
Sighing twice, he quickly made peace with it.
Gone is gone. After all, they weren't anything particularly good. Each use came with a steep price, and if not for the Homeland, who knows how many times he would have died by now.
Reflecting on the eerie mermaid phantom that had appeared earlier in the Homeland only further confirmed to Rhett that these shells weren't exactly wholesome objects.
Still, did the phantom's summoning completely deplete the energy in the shells?
Most likely, yes.
Rhett nodded to himself, then picked up the three shells, intending to keep them as mementos.
But as soon as his right hand touched one of them, it crumbled into dust with a soft snap, like weathered stone, dissolving into the air.
His mouth opened slightly, and Rhett gave a bitter smile, unsure of what to say.
Dusting off his clothes, he leisurely left the cave.
Despite everything, this venture had brought him great satisfaction. For the first time, he had seen the Homeland absorb external power and grow stronger, something he had never imagined.
It made him wonder just what level the original source must have been to be consumed by the Homeland. Surely no one in his home world was at that level. Rhett pondered whether the Netherworld could possibly reach such heights...
In the western region of the Green Kingdom, near the coast lay a vast grassland.
Countless yellow-skinned rhinoceroses roamed freely across the plain, occasionally emitting deep, muffled cries.
In the sky above, hundreds of wind mages used their wind magic—specifically, the Levitation Spell—to slowly drift in the air, dropping wild chickens and rabbits.
This was one of the Green Kingdom's extraordinary ranches.
Here, about several thousand Light-Horned Rhinos were bred. These creatures had mid-level bloodline potential, were aligned with the light element, and were considered one of the more docile species of magical beasts. However, if provoked, they could still unleash formidable combat power.
Of course, with strict rules in place, no one dared cross the line.
Surrounding the grassland was a metal fence made from a combination of alchemical equipment and formation arrays. Not only was it sturdy and resistant to damage, but it also emitted the scent of the rhinos' natural predator, ensuring that the beasts wouldn't charge the fence unless driven to madness by hunger.
Moreover, thousands of extraordinary beings stood guard outside the fence, and slightly further beyond was the regional capital—New Giang City, home to many more powerful individuals capable of quelling any potential uprising, unlikely as that was.
At this moment, McCough was mingling with the ranch workers in the sky, holding a large sack of magical beast meat, tossing it down from above.
Like manna from heaven, the intelligent Light-Horned Rhinos, having lived on this land for a long time, had developed the mistaken belief that all food fell from the sky. They opened their mouths wide, allowing the meat to drop in, and chewed heartily.
When the meat was too dry for their liking, they would lower their heads and eat the moist, ocean-scented fresh grass.
Even the grass had been carefully selected, the finest pasture that stayed lush year-round, highly favored by the magical beasts.
The wind mages hovered back and forth, and once their meat sacks were empty, they flew to the nearby giant refrigeration warehouse to retrieve more.
Occasionally, a Sky Knight would circle the area, checking for the birth of new calves.
Not all calves were left to breed within the herd. According to the king's decree, the best-performing ranch workers with the highest contributions had the opportunity to tame newborn magical beasts.
This rare privilege motivated everyone to work hard.
Everyone took their tasks seriously.
Of course, taming magical beasts wasn't always guaranteed to succeed. But if they failed, they would simply return the calf to the ranch. If their performance was good enough the following year, they could try again...
McCough had his eyes set on this opportunity, which was why he had voluntarily left the palace and requested a position as an extraordinary ranch worker.
It wasn't for himself—he already had the white rat that Rhett had given him, which was now fat and healthy.
But his wife, Vicki, still lacked a suitable magical pet. Now, McCough was looking for a chance for Vicki to try taming a magical beast calf.
At the same time, being away from the palace meant more time to indulge in fine wine...
As the day drew to a close, the evening sky turned into a ribbon of fiery orange, with the setting sun casting its golden light on the ocean, clouds, and grasslands, and across everyone's faces.
The scene was harmonious and serene.
After a long day of work, McCough stretched his back and left the ranch.
But he was soon stopped by Lawrence.
"Hey, McCough! Where are you off to?" Lawrence called.
Recognizing the voice, McCough reluctantly turned around, sighing. "Oh, it's you, Lawrence. Listen up, I'm no longer employed at the training grounds, and I don't have the strength I used to. Stop calling me mentor! I'm heading to the city for a drink. Want to join me?"
Lawrence, dressed in silver armor, no longer bore the youthful innocence of his early years. Having grown from a small-town boy in Chicktown to a seasoned warrior with many battles under his belt, his eyes now held both wisdom and resolve.
But in front of a familiar face from his hometown, Lawrence could still tap into his original sense of purity.
He chuckled. "You'll always be my mentor, no matter what. I was hoping you'd have a drink with me. I insist!"
McCough eyed him suspiciously, then sighed.
After all, it was this young man who had abandoned Eunika, McCough's first student, something he could never quite get over. Even though Lawrence had earned Rhett's favor, McCough had never warmed to him.
But with time, especially since Eunika had found true love, the wound had healed. McCough no longer saw the point in holding a grudge.
With a chuckle, McCough gave Lawrence a mischievous look. "Buy me a drink, eh? Just don't complain if I don't hold back..."
Lawrence laughed heartily. "No worries, we'll drink until we're full. And… I'd love to get your advice on proposing. I think it's time for me and Ora to make things official..."
McCough pointed a finger at him. "You rascal… always an ulterior motive. Fine, I'll teach you how I wooed Vicki…"
Nightfall.
In New Giang City's most famous tavern.
McCough and Lawrence staggered out of the noisy hall, still chuckling and reeking of alcohol.
Just then, a figure descended from the sky, clad in a regal blue robe, crowned with a jewel at the peak, adorned with the symbol of the fledgling hawk.
The two men gradually sobered up.
"King? Am I drunk, or am I seeing my dear brother…" McCough hiccupped, his face flushed red from the alcohol, clearly still not fully conscious.
Rhett, dressed in his royal attire, landed gently under the warm glow of the streetlights, frowning slightly. "McCough, what kind of state are you in? Looks like without Vicki around, no one can keep you in check!"
Then his gaze shifted to Lawrence. The young man had matured into an Earth Knight, and barring any accidents, his ascension to Sky Knight seemed all but guaranteed.
Lawrence respectfully placed a hand over his chest. "Your Majesty, this is my fault. I requested McCough's company and gave him too much to drink…"
"Then why are you fine?" Rhett raised an eyebrow.
Lawrence, a bit nervous, replied, "A knight's physique is a bit stronger than that of a mage. I was also quite drunk earlier, but it's mostly worn off now."
Rhett nodded slightly. "Fine. From now on, I'll assign you a task—keep an eye on McCough and make sure he doesn't overindulge in alcohol!"
"No, Rhett, you can't be so cruel… hic… come on, let's head to the Nightingale Tavern for another round…" McCough slurred as he called out.
Thanks to the research of the kingdom's saint-level alchemists, the alcohol content in the top-tier wines of the Green Kingdom had reached extraordinary levels. Even Sky Knights could get drunk if they drank too much, let alone McCough, who had only just reached the level of a Magister.
Rhett sighed helplessly. "Where's this Nightingale Tavern? You still think this is Chicktown…"
Lawrence glanced at Rhett, then at McCough, and offered a wry smile. "Your Majesty, I can try to keep an eye on him, but McCough might not listen to me…"
Rhett shook his head. "Fine, then I'll issue a royal decree myself. From now on, all taverns in New Giang City are to limit McCough's alcohol intake—no more than three bottles per day."
McCough, still drunk, shouted again into the night air. Rhett instructed Lawrence to take him away, and after strolling alone through New Giang City for a while, admiring the night scenery, he stopped by each tavern to issue the same restriction—three bottles maximum per day.
Finally, Rhett made his way to the extraordinary pasture.
In the moonlit night, white mist curled around the land.
The unique horns of the Light-Horned Rhinos glowed with a crystalline light, gently swaying like fluorescent sticks in the dark, adding a romantic touch to the scene.
Lastly, Rhett arrived at a beach hundreds of miles away.
This time, he wasn't here on any important mission. He had simply been inspired by the discovery of the two shells a few days ago and suspected that there might be other shell fragments scattered throughout the world.
He decided to comb through the world's beaches, hoping to uncover something more.
For the next ten days, Rhett carried out his plan, traveling across the globe, scouring every beach, riverbank, and stream—any place that might yield a shell.
Though he found nothing, he had ruled out many possibilities, and his mind was at ease.
A year and a half later.
In the far western reaches of the world.
After the final battle with the beastmen, they had been driven to remote lands, clinging to survival.
Now, on these icy islands, the ten thousand beastmen had settled. Under strict control of their birth rates, they dared not breed excessively, either because they feared punishment or simply couldn't.
Each year, population checks were conducted, and any discrepancy in numbers was met with bloodthirsty retribution.
On this snowy plain, the Minotaurs, Boarmen, and Bearmen gazed longingly to the east, across the endless ocean. The elders knew that was where their ancestral homeland lay, where their kind had once fought glorious wars.
…And where their near-extinction had been written.
At the peak of the tallest glacier, a dozen human saint-level warriors stood in a line, their expressions cold and detached, gazing down at a Bearman prostrate before them.
"The appointed time has come. Sound the horn…"
Standing at the center of the group, Rhett had, since the spread of information about the Netherworld among the human elites, become the de facto leader, given his terrifying combat prowess.
The pale-furred Bearman, whose fur was streaked with white, bowed humbly as he took the horn Rhett handed him. After a deep breath, his chest rose and fell as he blew it with all his might.
"Tooooot—"
"Tooooot—"
The ancient, distant sound of the horn echoed all around.
The ice beneath them cracked faintly.
Thankfully, a water-element Grand Magister quickly conjured a stream of water elements, swiftly calming the disturbance.
Many of the saint-level warriors exchanged glances, their faces filled with a mix of anticipation, caution, and curiosity, each imagining what kind of scene they would witness during this meeting with the Beast God Realm.
It was as if their collective thoughts had summoned it.
Suddenly, space itself tore open, and a delicate claw emerged, followed by soft, white feathers that slowly appeared before their eyes.
The Peace Dove had crossed realms once again, its radiant light shining brighter than before. It seemed to have recovered significantly since its last visit.
As it descended, every saint-level warrior's gaze softened, and not a single one harbored the slightest thought of battle. Even the faintest trace of hostility dissolved in their hearts.
Rhett, too, felt an overwhelming sense of conflicting emotions. It was unsettling, but as he focused on the elemental core in his sea of consciousness, he found that he had a degree of resistance to the Dove's influence. The power of elemental fusion was clearly not to be underestimated.
"Hmm?"
The Peace Dove let out a small sound of surprise, its gaze lingering on Rhett. It recognized him—the father who had wanted to bring the spring water back to his son.
Its eyes flashed with a hint of astonishment.
It had never encountered anyone who could resist its power, even to the slightest degree. Upon seeing that the others seemed to follow Rhett's lead, the Dove felt it had gained some insight.
After a long, deep look at Rhett, the Peace Dove flapped its wings and smiled warmly. "Friends of the Elemental World, it has been two years. I hope you are well."
"Indeed, long time no see. We've eagerly awaited your return. I trust your side has discussed the terms of our trade?" Rhett replied with a smile, holding up a translucent red mineral that radiated a dense fire-elemental aura.
The Peace Dove, calm and composed, was instantly captivated by the elemental mineral. Its eyes gleamed with excitement, and it nodded eagerly like a pecking chick. "As I mentioned last time, our trade will surely proceed smoothly, as long as you can provide enough elemental condensation materials…"
"Haha!" Rhett chuckled and spread his arms wide.
Thud, thud.
Several heavy objects fell to the ground.
The sound of elemental minerals clattering together echoed around them.