Chapter 666: Two Months

A massive, tangled mass of pure knowledge floated around; under Reketon's influence, they came to life, gained self-awareness, spontaneously coalesced and intertwined, like countless tightly fitted parts assembling themselves.

Soon, a gigantic clock tower hundreds of meters tall appeared, each facet at its summit carved with an eye whose pupils reflected an illusory three‑dimensional clock; their gazes, up or down, together watched every corner of the wasteland.

Reketon condensed his mythic beast form, appearing atop the tower, still holding the four gems originally set into his mechanical gauntlet.

He brought one gray‑white gem up to his eyes to examine it, then tossed it out of the tower.

As it fell, surrounding information was continually drawn in and gathered; the gray‑white gem gradually brightened, radiating rainbow light and transforming into a gray‑white translucent giant dragon.

Its eyes were pale gold, pupils vertical; its limbs were stout, and two misty gray membranous wings beat constantly behind it, twisting its body in midair and circling the tower.

During this, its body kept splitting, each fragment reflecting different fused knowledge, spawning dragons cloaked in ice crystals, wreathed in flame, as black as ink, or sheathed in crystal.

Only when the Virtual Persona's power reached its limit did the dragons cease splitting, each taking a direction and vanishing into the wasteland.

"The Audience's Virtual Persona and the multithread‑capable Gou Sanjia are perfect material; they can help me construct this Information World in the shortest time,"

Reketon sighed softly, feeling an urge to go collect more Manipulators, Tricksters, or Mystics now.

Shaking his head and gathering his thoughts, he tossed the remaining three gems—belonging to the Fallen Count, the Black Knight, and the Disaster High Priest—out as well, letting them merge with the already animated knowledge to form peculiar information beings.

"Since it's a story, how can it lack a fairy tale?"

Murmuring to himself, a stack of parchment‑bound books materialized before Reketon, their pages turning of their own accord, revealing the recorded stories and illustrations inside.

Staring at the books rotating around him, complex illusory symbols coalesced in his eyes, and wave after wave of information peeled away from the books, drifting out of the tower and landing upon the wasteland.

These information streams each reconvened, solidifying into a pumpkin carriage pulled by two plump mice, a swan with pure white feathers, a little girl huddled in a corner under heavy snow, a gray wolf standing upright, a little girl in a red cloak and matching soft hat, a rider on a white horse with a straight sword at his waist, a prince in splendid attire, and a group of giggling, tussling dwarves. More and more figures emerged across the wasteland; they were neither blurry nor transparent, sometimes fervent, sometimes sorrowful, sometimes laughing, but all lacked vitality, like stiff mechanical puppets.

On the clock tower at the wasteland's center, Reketon raised his hand to wipe nonexistent sweat from his forehead, exhaled slowly and said, "That's about it; next comes the gradual refinement and separating this place from the Spiritual Realm."

The moment his words ended, his body became instantly transparent, as if turned into a statue formed of countless gathered starlights.

The statue shattered at once, brilliant star‑glints bubbling and flowing beyond the tower, gradually covering the entire wasteland and becoming its sky.

One star after another then appeared, dense and dazzling, illuminating a night sky of a brilliant stellar river.

The Spiritual Realm, a place covered by seven streams of pure radiant light, emitted intangible ripples unevenly; the surroundings suddenly darkened as if night had fallen, and a tranquil, serene feeling arrived with specks of starlight.

The change lasted less than a second before vanishing, and along with it the winding river—the Pas River reflected in the Spiritual Realm—disappeared.

Soon, that kaleidoscopic river, as if a paint bucket had been tipped over, reappeared in another direction; the colors in the water merged and separated, like a flowing rainbow.

Reketon sank the Information World into the river, severing its information exchange with the Spiritual Realm, then, relying on his mastery of information, recreated a river within the Spiritual Realm.

With these actions completed, the seven slowly flowing, writhing pure lights returned to the top of the Spiritual Realm, as if they had never moved.

Time sped by, and only after two months did Reketon emerge from the Information World.

Before he could receive the information from his external duplicate, Russell appeared directly before him.

After scrutinizing Reketon for a while, Russell finally clicked his tongue and spoke:

"When the Hidden Sage's oracle appeared, I almost thought it had gone mad, or that you had gone mad,"

"Using the authority of information to build a network platform in this world via occult means isn't difficult, but opening it to everyone and bearing a massive, chaotic mass of consciousness would drive any self‑aware being mad, even a Sequence‑0 True God." "You didn't go completely insane or lose control; in fact, I feel you're even better than before. How did you manage that?"

Reketon, while receiving the events of this period as information through his link with the duplicate, explained to Russell:

"The exchange and processing of information is handled by the Hidden Sage; it poses no burden to it, except during combat,"

"As for the carrier of the Information World, didn't you notice something missing from my hand?"

As he spoke, Reketon lifted his right hand—unadorned by the mechanical gauntlet—and waved it before Russell.

Russell, still puzzled, asked, "Just a 'Knowledge Mentor' trait?"

Reketon smiled and shook his head, "Of course not; there's also a 'Sage' trait, plus some special items."

Russell's pale‑blue eyes darkened slightly; he didn't press further, changing the subject: "Everything needed to explore the 'Ghost Empire' is ready. Coincidentally, the war with Indith here has stalled; how about we try our luck in the Mist Sea?"

"Sure, in the next couple of days works," Reketon nodded lightly, giving an approximate timeframe.

Russell waved his hand, took a casual step forward, but his body abruptly appeared dozens of meters away in another direction; taking another step, he vanished straight from Reketon's sight.

Retracting his gaze, Reketon closed his eyes and quietly received the duplicate's information, learning what had transpired over the two months.

Aside from Indith's 'Eternal Sun' Church and the God of Steam and Machinery Church, Luen's 'Storm Lord' Church also joined the war against the Southern Continent's new regime; Fusak and the 'War God' Church were unusually active, yet never sided with any faction.

The Night Church and Earth Church remained silent, but the Southern Continent's Blood Clan and the Artificial Death God faction of the Spiritual Sect were very active, continuously striking the Rose School and 'Primal Moon' believers, keeping them from meddling in the coastal battles.

Over at Beckland, the Luen royal preparations seemed to be in their final stage; Adam appeared to have already arranged everything, truly deserving the title of the strongest 'Audience'?

After receiving all the information, he exhaled a long breath; his body instantly dematerialized, becoming a pure information‑flow entity that surged like a torrent back to the Northern Shore Manor.

Glancing at the wall clock—still some time before three p. m. —he simply sat in the nearby recliner, waved his hand through the void, and a transparent light panel materialized, resembling a streamlined computer screen that divided its interface into chat, reading, and gaming sections.

After the Information World took shape, he had the Hidden Sage disseminate the relevant data via oracle; performing the proper rite yields feedback and grants a talisman that allows access to the beta version of the network platform.

"Developing a suitable mobile device is still necessary; currently only highly spiritual Extraordinary beings can use it, and even then it's limited by time and talisman restrictions,"

Muttering to himself twice, he mentally controlled the light panel, entered the chat interface, and casually selected a group chat named 'Tarot Enthusiasts.'

The panel's content shifted rapidly, numerous bits of information floated across, even some emojis? Who added Arodos to the group? As the thought formed, his question materialized as subtitles and was sent out.

Soon, a person whose avatar was a vague figure shrouded in gray mist replied:

"You invited the great Arodos to add new features to your World Tree, yet you don't want me chatting with others? Does that make sense?"

"Question: Why call it the World Tree instead of a network?"

"It's a tree‑shaped network linking the whole world; moreover, 'World Tree' sounds grander and more impressive,"

After casually answering Arodos's question, Reketon learned from the Hidden Sage's backend why Arodos appeared outside the 'Magic Mirror Q&A Game'—Russell had obtained partial permissions from Bernardai; the reason being Arodos knew too many of his minor secrets and was being blackmailed.

He sighed inwardly, "What a hassle," and stopped probing the matter.

He distributed the World Tree's administrative permissions to Bernardai and two angels of the Moss Ascetic Order precisely to ease his own burden; as long as matters don't affect the foundational Information World, he won't intervene.

(End of Chapter)