Lynch always preferred to wake up early and then sit quietly in front of "his" tent, watching the thick fog. At this moment, he would not use the Eye of Insight, preferring to possess only mortal power; only then could he truly confront his own nature. Whether he could now call down a Meteor Storm from the sky, or take a life with just a word, or even make time stop to wait for his steps if he wished, he was still just a person—a human who could be disappointed, afraid, and lonely. Only by truly realizing this would he not lose himself in the mad torrent of blood battles.

"Do you like tasting this poison, Red Robe?"

Upon hearing the familiar voice, Lynch smiled, knowing that the sickly Black Robe human had survived yet another blood battle. Unlike Lynch himself, the Black Robe Mage always liked to face the flood of demon armies, confronting each test with his battered body. Lynch had once witnessed the sight of two armies clashing and understood its horrors. A mage like him or Black Robe had to be absolutely focused to stay alive; every extra syllable, every slight misstep, every extra breath could tear them to powder on such a meat grinder of a battlefield. Lynch knew he could possibly achieve such a level, but he would not gamble his life because he had other cares and dreams. Yet the Black Robe Mage always strived to place himself at dangerous fronts, savoring the feeling of walking on a knife's edge.

"Is it necessary?" Lynch once asked. But in return, he got the silence of the Black Robe Mage. Later, after battle after battle, Black Robe always came back alive. Only then did Lynch understand that this wasn't a question of necessity; such battles had become the life of the Black Robe Mage, and he could only do this.

Although the relationship between the two mages couldn't be called friendship, they were still friends. Lynch invited the Black Robe Mage into his tent, using magic to ignite a small flame—with almost inexhaustible magic energy, Lynch could maintain magical effects longer than Black Robe. The cough suppressant had now lost its color, and the originally bitter and intense smell was masked by this dimension. Lynch watched the Black Robe Mage work silently. He wouldn't urge Black Robe to leave, or advise him not to risk his life, because he knew it was meaningless.

"One day, I will face opponents more terrifying than today. One day, I will enter the demon's lair, into the bottomless abyss," the Black Robe Mage said to Lynch, coughing lightly and speaking intermittently, "So I need knowledge about that place."

Lynch took out the books from his Spatial Bag, collected from the outer corridors of the All-Knowing Tower, for which he had discarded many daily necessities. The Black Robe Mage browsed through them at an extremely fast pace; he needed only half the time Lynch did to imprint the books in his mind.

"What exactly are you collecting those Snake Demon Hearts for?" the Black Robe Mage finally asked. "Are you inventing a new spell? I've never heard of any spell that requires a large number of Snake Demon Hearts as materials."

"I am looking for a way back." For some reason, in front of the Black Robe Mage, Lynch always felt that lying was meaningless. His eyes seemed to see through all falsehoods; even if he never exposed the other's deception, he certainly knew the tricks. "I want to return to my own world; I don't belong here."

"But you seem to be living well here!" The Black Robe Mage smiled, though it was unclear if it was a joke or a subtle sarcasm. He clutched his chest, taking deep, labored breaths, which made Lynch unwilling to reproach him. The Black Robe Mage said, "The witches seem to admire you; they've been savoring fine hopeless souls recently. I know, they might need a change of taste, seeking fresher goods soon."

After speaking, the Black Robe Mage's eyes remained fixed on Lynch, shimmering with golden light. Even in the Grey Ruins, his wise aura couldn't be stripped away. Lynch nodded, gently saying, "I know such a day will come; they will eventually turn their sights on me."

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