Sidra.

  A desert nation that once stood as a glorious, shimmering civilization. Ancient records claim that two millennia ago, Sidra was a vibrant, lush oasis, though whether these tales are fact or myth remains a mystery. Today, it is a hollowed-out, underdeveloped shell, having long since lost its connection to its ancestors. The old Sidra has vanished into the dust.

  Mei and the others had crossed half the globe—thousands of miles by helicopter and cargo ship—landing at a remote bay before trekking deep into the scorching dunes. Only then did they reach their destination.

  In just two weeks, Marco’s skin had darkened to a sun-kissed wheat color.

  "We’re here."

  Atop a massive sand dune, Chuck stowed his map and compass. He looked toward the horizon where the silhouette of a town sat faintly against the heat haze. It wasn't large, but in the heart of the waste, it was a landmark.

  "This is the Little Oasis."

  Marco swallowed hard, his lips parched and bleeding. He squinted at the town; he didn't see a single blade of green.

  "I just want a drink of water. Now."

  Mei was wrapped in white cloth to ward off the sun, dressed in the local desert style. She gripped Marco’s collar and guided him down the dune; the boy was seconds away from a heatstroke collapse.

  Inside Little Oasis, Marco finally replenished his fluids and felt his soul return to his body. Chuck didn't waste a second, immediately hunting for Intel regarding the ruins. He had received a tip from a secret source: a hidden site of the ancient Sidra civilization had been found nearby, housing a unique treasure.

  "A ruin?"

  "It should be in this direction."

  Ancient Sidra ruins were unearthed constantly; for the locals, it was mundane news. A few questions were all it took to pinpoint the site.

  A day later, the three arrived at the excavation. Amidst the endless sand, only the jagged tops of buildings were visible; the rest remained entombed. Because of the shifting dunes, digging was a nightmare. Uncovering the entire complex was a pipe dream; the scale was too massive, demanding impossible labor.

  Marco was lost. "We found the place. Now what?"

  Chuck remained unfazed.

  "Find that treasure."

  "How?"

  "Intuition."

  "......"

  Marco rolled his eyes. He found Chuck's arrogance absurd, yet the man's intuition was freakishly accurate, making it impossible to win an argument. He looked to his side.

  Wait. Where was Mei?

  ...

  At the ruin.

  Inside a cramped tent, a young girl was struggling to piece together shattered stone fragments: "Like this... and this... then that. Haha, perfect!"

  Having restored the tablet's shape, she opened a dictionary of ancient Sidran script, trying to translate the characters one by one.

  The deeper she looked, the more frustrated she became. The ancient Sidran language was fragmented, and many symbols on the stone were missing from her book. It was maddening.

  "Not in here, not in here either. Damn it, what does this even mean?"

  A voice spoke softly in her ear.

  "That word means trial."

  The girl jumped. She looked up and saw a strange young woman. Without thinking, she instinctively pointed to the next character: "And this one?"

  Mei glanced down. "Tuk. It's the name of this ruin. The ancient Sidrans called this city Tuk, meaning Abode of the Gods."

  The girl was stunned: "You actually read ancient Sidran?"

  "Do you need a translation?" Mei asked.

  "Yes! Please!" The girl nodded desperately.

  Mei looked at the tablet and read it line by line: "The God of Sidra is supreme. Tuk is the home of the gods. Warriors come here for the trials; those with true courage shall receive divine grace and follow the gods for eternity..."

  The girl checked the words against her dictionary. Every single one was a perfect match.

  "Professor! The translation is finished!"

  The girl sprinted out of the tent and handed the paper to the professor. He looked it over, his face twisting in shock: "This fast?"

  "It's all thanks to your student!"

  "My student?" The professor was baffled. "None of my students know a word of ancient Sidran."

  "What?" The girl froze. "But..."

  She looked back. The tent was empty. The mysterious woman had vanished.

  ...

  Chuck paced the perimeter of the ruins, checking the artifacts one by one. He found nothing but junk.

  "It’s still buried deep below."

  Marco stepped back. "Are you really going down there?"

  The entire city was drowned in sand, its depth unknown. Even if they got in, one bad slide would bury them alive. Chuck might survive, but Marco knew he was dead meat.

  Chuck stepped onto the buried roof beneath his feet. "Before we drop, I need to prepare."

  He needed a light source.

  Late at night.

  The sandstorm turned vicious. Before long, the tents of the archaeological team were half-buried. Yet, everyone slept in a deep, unnatural slumber. Chuck and Marco were no exception.

  Above the desert, the Milky Way arched across the void, magnificent and ornate, like diamonds scattered on velvet. The view was breathtaking.

  In the dark, Mei watched the stars, unaffected. A figure emerged from the shadows—bronze skin, a statue-like physique, and short golden hair falling over his shoulders. The man radiated an aura of pure power.

  He studied Mei with curiosity, though she didn't even blink at his arrival.

  "To think someone could withstand my power and not fall into a dream. Do such warriors still exist in this modern world? You, who disturbs the gods... I shall allow you to state your name."

  Mei cast a cold, sideways glance at him.

  A god.

  The Lord of Tuk, the supreme deity of the ancient Sidran—a legend who transcended humanity to become divine. He was a pinnacle existence on this planet, a wielder of treasures.

  A Tier 3 being who had lived for millennia. His true name was Sidra, and the entire Sidran civilization had been born from his will.

  After a long silence, Mei finally spoke.

  "I sense your battle intent."

  "Haha."

  The sandstorm swirled around Sidra, responding to his shifting emotions. He let out a laugh of pure excitement: "I enjoy clashing with the strong; meeting you, it is hard not to be moved."

  Though he possessed the arrogance of a god, Sidra was an elegant and courteous king. The word "tyrannical" had never applied to him. Tracing back to the history before his deification, Sidra was a valiant warrior. He craved the heat of battle.

  "Then I shall respond to your battle intent." Mei smiled.

  "Excellent!" Sidra was overjoyed. "Show me the full extent of your power!"

  According to Hyperdimensional Space's evaluation, Tier 3 combat power was at the level of surface warfare, capable of effortlessly destroying a modern metropolis—much like a walking nuclear warhead. It was even possible for them to shatter a continental plate.

  Sidra ranked slightly above average for Tier 3. His pure destructive power couldn't yet shatter a continent, but it was more than enough to destroy a nation.

  "Then, I shall not be modest!"

  HUM—

  Phantoms emerged from behind Sidra: chariots forged of gold, and massive beasts soaring through the sky. This was Sidra’s gemstone ability: The Will of Sidra.

  The brilliance of those heroic figures and treasures that had once shone in the river of time, those who stood out in ancient Sidra, could respond to Sidra’s will and return to the present world.

  Witnessing these objects descending as projections from the river of time, a strange glint flickered in Mei's eyes. Then, a look of nostalgia crossed her face.

  "In that case, I shall accompany you to the end."

  As she spoke, the stars shifted and the Milky Way seemed to pour down. A supreme will descended, forcibly manifesting into reality. A bronze throne appeared behind her, and Mei leaned back upon it. Her gaze was commanding and disdainful.

  Subsequently, streaks of light traversed the starry sky, falling from the Milky Way. Shimmering rays arrived in an instant; they were weapons of various designs.

  Longswords.

  Battle-axes.

  Spears.

  "..."

  THUD!

  A longsword pierced the desert sand and was pulled out by a knight clad in silver-white armor. Twelve knights descended into the world one after another, guarding the area beneath the throne.

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  "My Lord, Julius has come to pay respects!"

  "......"

  The Twelve Knights, weapons in hand, knelt on one knee. Their valiant aura pierced the starry sky, stirring up a violent sandstorm that billowed across the desert.

  Julius.

  Hegram.

  Gray.

  Camelo.

  "......"

  The Twelve Knights of the Firenze Empire had returned. Although Firenze did not exist in this world, with Mei's current power, creating myths and legends was effortless.

  Seeing this, Sidra was surprised, then laughed loudly.

  "So you too are a sovereign. This clash just became far more interesting. Let us see: are your knights more formidable, or are my warriors superior!"

  In the distance, atop a sand dune.

  Clarence, having recovered from his injuries, had secretly followed Chuck’s footsteps all the way to the outskirts of the Tuk ruins. He unexpectedly witnessed this scene.

  The silver-haired man looked up at the shimmering Milky Way and then back toward the powerful forces manifesting above the ruins, his shock beyond belief.

  "Just what kind of power is this..."

  Clarence watched, spellbound. He said nothing.

  As expected, that girl was no ordinary person!

  Well then, he would see just how much weight this battle carried.

  It wasn't that Mei and the others hadn't noticed Clarence spying; they simply didn't care. Mei had never deliberately concealed her power. She didn't care whether the people of this world knew of her strength.

  This included Sidra.

  The gap between them was truly too vast. Her exchange with Sidra wasn't about victory or defeat. To put it bluntly, a Tier 3 being was far from qualified to talk about winning or losing against Mei.

  Simply because it was pleasing.

  Sidra reminded Mei of those days in Firenze; therefore, she fulfilled Sidra's wish, responding to his fighting intent.

  Mei revealed a faint, pleased expression.

  "You all, offer victory up to me."

  "By your command!"

  The Twelve Knights accepted the order.

  In an instant.

  Blades and swords played the sharp melody of clashing metal, warhorses roared, transforming into a streak of light like a meteorite falling from the sky. Theaphilus, laughing wildly, controlled his chariot, leading the charge.

  "Offer victory to the Empress!"

  "Hahahaha, what valiant warriors!"

  Responding to Theaphilus's impact.

  Sidra was already prepared, a wave of his hand releasing countless streaming arrows from the massive army of tens of thousands behind him.

  Lifting a great Golden Bow in his hand.

  Sidra drew the bow and notched an arrow.

  A majestic momentum instantly surged toward the heavens, then the arrow in his hand chased the stars and pursued the moon, striking directly at Theaphilus. Theaphilus showed not a shred of fear, laughing loudly as he swung his sword down.

  BOOM!

  A deafening roar resounded, and in a flash, a terrifying sandstorm rose over the desert, only to be suppressed by an unparalleled, immense power.

  The clouds in the night sky were instantly shattered, making the Milky Way even more clearly visible.

  Looking again at the desert.

  A massive sand crater several hundred meters in diameter had appeared. Even the relatively distant Clarence and his companion were blown back a dozen meters by the residual pressure.

  Returning to the sand dune.

  The moment they saw this scene, Clarence and the other were instantly frozen in place. Clarence felt an unprecedented shock.

  "Is this... power?"

  Before this level of strength, he felt only utter insignificance. Although Arthur had given him power, he still needed time to grow.

  Currently, he was far from being compared to such powerhouses.

  In mid-air.

  Theaphilus was completely unharmed, but the chariot's charge had been forced to a halt.

  CLANG!

  The sharp blade hummed softly.

  Julius entered the fray, each step like thunder striking the earth. His momentum surged violently, as if he intended to cleave both heaven and earth in two.

  Sidra could not help but marvel.

  "The strength of your subjects is beyond my imagination. I cannot conceive what kind of great monarch you were in the past. In this battle, even in defeat, I am honored!"

  Theaphilus's power alone was not much inferior to his own, let alone Julius, who possessed the bearing of a king and the force of ten thousand men; this knight was even more formidable.

  Looking ahead.

  The true sovereign leaned back upon the throne.

  Sidra could not fathom it.

  Just how powerful must the monarch be who commanded twelve such knights? Sidra’s blood boiled; his golden hair swayed in the wind as he raised his hand and shouted.

  "Then behold my divine subjects, my warriors! Fight for victory!"

  As his voice fell.

  From among the ten thousand troops stepped warriors of extraordinary presence. None were below Tier 2, and some had even stepped into Tier 3, only one level weaker than the Twelve Knights.

  "Victory belongs to our King!"

  With those words.

  Julius swung his sword. A blinding radiance pierced through the world. First came silence, then the earth shook violently as sand and dust rose toward the heavens like tidal waves.

  The massive slash nearly split the entire desert in two, leaving a bottomless scar upon the earth that transformed into a celestial chasm.

  BOOM!

  The strike that cleaved the desert was blocked head-on. A city wall manifested before Sidra—this was the Wall of Tuk, hailed in ancient Sidra as the indestructible shield.

  However.

  It held for only a single breath.

  The Wall of Tuk was shattered by Julius’s slash. The wall collapsed, and the slash continued unabated, dispersing the ten thousand troops behind Sidra.

  Neither the ten thousand troops nor the Wall of Tuk could withstand Julius’s power.

  The Wall of Tuk shattered.

  The army of ten thousand suffered heavy casualties.

  This was the strength of Julius alone.

  The radiance of the slash dissipated, transforming into firefly-like sparks drifting over the desert. Sidra took in this utterly magnificent sight.

  "The destructive force is actually this terrifying..."

  Furthermore.

  That knight seemed to have not yet exerted his full effort. This magnificent strike was merely the opening prelude to the war, acting as his signal for official engagement and a warm-up.

  On the distant sand dune.

  “......”

  “......”

  They had thought that the previous strike, which had blown out a crater of several hundred meters, was the limit. Little did they expect that in a mere instant, their worldview would be updated once more.

  Looking ahead.

  A massive slash had split the entire desert in two. Yellow sand poured down like a waterfall into a bottomless, giant chasm that stretched to the horizon.

  The end was nowhere in sight.

  Unparalleled shock violently hammered the visual senses of Clarence and the silver-haired man, leaving them with dry mouths and tingling scalps.

  The silver-haired man swallowed hard.

  "This... only people in myths and legends could possess such powerful strength, right?"

  However.

  At this very moment.

  Such power appeared right before their eyes.

  Beyond the shock, a flame of boiling blood seemed to flicker in the depths of Clarence’s eyes. One day, perhaps he too could grasp such power.

  And then.

  Launch a challenge against that person!

  Clarence looked toward the person upon the throne.

  BOOM!

  Thunder from a clear sky.

  A streak of deep blue lightning struck down.

  Gray, clad in knightly armor and wielding a spear, controlled the lightning, joining the battle with a fiercely peerless posture. An ancient Sidran warrior, wielding a battle-axe and carrying the force of ten thousand men, clashed with him defiantly.

  The thunder resonated.

  Splashing arcs of electricity blew up the soaring yellow sand.

  Muscles like a wild beast surged with terrifying, violent strength. This ancient Sidran warrior’s battle-axe barely managed to block Gray’s spear; he was quite formidable.

  However.

  "Not enough."

  SIZZLE—

  Lightning flickered within Gray’s eyes, dancing in fleeting arcs that traveled through his hair. Then, lightning erupted from his entire body.

  BANG!

  Another massive explosion.

  The ancient Sidran warrior, possessing Tier 3 strength, was staggered by the sheer force. Riding the surging lightning from the spear, he was sent hurtling through the air by the strike.

  The lightning ripped through the darkness.

  The warrior’s figure streaked across the sky, crashing into ruins several kilometers away and shattering every structure in his path.

  Julius.

  Theaphilus.

  Gray.

  Contending with just three knights left Sidra under immense strain. He looked up, realizing that Mei commanded exactly twelve such warriors under her banner!

  The Twelve Knights of the Firenze Empire stood like twelve mountain-high walls across his vision. They projected a crushing sense of pressure—the raw weight of insurmountable power.

  It was suffocating.

  Yet, a sovereign does not easily admit defeat. The stronger the opponent, the more Sidra’s blood boiled. Win or lose, he felt honored to stand on this battlefield.

  "Unknown great monarch, in several thousand years, you are one of the few who has forced me to exert my full effort. Now, behold the glorious peak of ancient Sidra!"

  He raised a scepter high.

  A light enveloped the desert, radiating outward with Sidra at the center.

  Everywhere the light touched, the sands transformed into an oasis.

  Lush greenery.

  Crisscrossing rivers.

  It was as if they had been transported into the heart of the ancient kingdom, thousands of years in the past.

  This was Sidra’s ultimate power: manifesting the entirety of the ancient nation into the present, using the supreme glory and strength of an entire civilization to crush his foe.

  "Decent."

  Mei remained motionless. A glint of surprise flashed in her eyes, but the illusion of ancient Sidra dissolved the moment it drew near her throne.

  In its place, rivers spanned across the sky behind her.

  Vast.

  Stunning.

  A vista far more powerful than the Sidran Empire descended. The rivers winding through the sky like swimming dragons symbolized the rebirth of the Firenze Empire.

  Time flowed backward, tracing an even more ancient era.

  Legends transformed into myths.

  Ancient, giant stars hung in the cosmos as if within arm's reach. That boundless force radiated a magnificent, primordial aura.

  The Mythological Empire of Firenze had arrived.

  The strength of the Twelve Knights surged with a massive boost. Julius stepped directly into Tier 4, completely eclipsing Sidra.

  Compared to Firenze, the ancient Sidra of this moment was like an ant before a dragon. Even looking the beast in the eye required immense courage.

  As this cosmic aura swept across the desert, Sidra reached a sudden realization.

  He was ecstatic.

  "I see! A Monarch who ruled a nation in a mythological era?!! Hahahaha! To trade blows with a Monarch such as yourself—I can die with no regrets!!!"

  The power of the entire Sidran nation surged into him. Countless treasures shimmered with brilliant light, like stars scattered across the Milky Way.

  Then, they launched a full-scale attack.

  Sidra grasped a golden longsword. Radiance erupted from the blade, brewing a terrifying power intended to obliterate everything into nothingness.

  "This is the strike of my full effort!"

  He swung the sword down.

  BOOM!

  The world shook violently.

  Julius faced the strike head-on. His eyes were like sharp blades; his own longsword swung in an arch of light from his waist, parrying Sidra's strike directly into the starry sky.

  BOOM!

  The night sky resonated as the clouds dispersed.

  A torrent of treasure attacks struck down like falling stars. Hegram, guarding the throne, stepped forward with a shout and swung his battle-axe.

  A single strike split the torrential attack in two.

  BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

  The treasure attacks pelted the desert, riddling it with holes. The Twelve Knights remained unharmed, allowing no strike to draw near the throne.

  Tellugh drew his bow and notched an arrow.

  A light like a falling star arrived in an instant. A single arrow pierced through the layers of Sidra’s defenses—unstoppable, like splitting bamboo.

  Sidra’s protection collapsed completely.

  WHOOSH—

  The yellow sand fluttered.

  Camelo arrived, controlling the gale. He held a sharp blade horizontally against Sidra’s neck. He was swift and efficient, without a hint of hesitation. The battle was over.

  "Hahahaha."

  Sidra accepted his defeat with equanimity as his treasures faded away. His warriors had all been swept aside by Gray and Theaphilus.

  Camelo spoke.

  "My Lord, the victory of this battle is offered up to you!"

  Sidra looked toward Mei upon the throne, his voice filled with extreme respect.

  "Monarch who rules ancient myths, you may sever my head as the trophy of this battle. This is my resolve, and my glory."