McCarthy Delin hoped Ethan and Lindong would stay, but he had no grounds to persuade them.

After all, they were merely passing acquaintances, fishing enthusiasts who happened to meet in the forest and both happened to be Elemental Shapers. He guessed it was a twist of fate, akin to those destined encounters in mythic tales.

Regarding the manuscript, he and his teacher held different views.

This wasn't a favor but rather a significant burden for this fishing friend.

McCarthy Delin personally escorted the two out of the camp, standing amidst the woods, watching their figures fade into the forest's end.

Perhaps, he ought to go fishing.

It was his hobby, perhaps even the fated way of meeting. A strong premonition surged within him, convinced he'd stumble upon something good.

He was a man of action, and even with his fishing rod confiscated by his teacher, nothing could stop him. Seizing the moment while his teacher conversed with the observers, he quietly left the camp, leaving a message for the Elemental Shapers and Hunters patrolling the camp's perimeter.

—"If the teacher asks, just say I went to scout the enemy."

Obviously, this excuse didn't hold water.

Because he had always observed the world through the magic net, the entire web of observers was his creation, with every member personally selected by him. They were naturally gifted individuals with strong sensory abilities, their magic usually associated with the element of lightning, the most alert and agile element in nature.

McCarthy Delin returned to a familiar place.

There remained an igloo that hadn't melted,

campfire traces lingered on the lakeside clearing, and guided by fate, McCarthy once again encountered a familiar figure.

"Miss Lindong?"

He almost blurted it out.

The woman by the lakeside had the same face as Lindong, yet her aura felt completely different.

More importantly, he had personally watched Ethan and Lindong leave in a direction opposite to the lake, and now Ethan was nowhere to be found. The "Lindong" by the lakeside sat quietly on a chair, a fishing rod beside her, gazing at the lake deep in thought.

McCarthy felt the fishing rod was merely ornamental, as too many fish swam in front of "Lindong," heads lifted above the water, appearing ravenous.

Water occasionally splashed on the lake's surface, turning into pure white fruits as they fell, which the swarm of fish scrambled to swallow.

This was also a kind of Elemental Magic he had never seen before.

McCarthy's call drew "Lindong's" attention, but she didn't seem very interested, her gaze lingering on him for less than a second before shifting elsewhere.

"Lindong" appeared to be in a trance.

McCarthy reached the lakeshore, moving over the stones he used while fishing yesterday, "Where is Mr. Ethan?"

"I don't know."

"Lindong" shook her head.

That calm tone sparked a suspicion in McCarthy, "You are indeed Miss Lindong, right?"

Their auras were vastly different; though their first impression was both cold, the Lindong he had met seemed to have a touch of the Witch's potential, hiding beneath a deceptively innocent exterior, was a heart fond of mischief and enjoying a good spectacle.

Yet this "Lindong," she seemed to have purged all distractions from her mind.

The feeling struck McCarthy as familiar, making him think of the Knight Lord and those serious entities unlike any human being.

They had personally extinguished "human nature," as the Knight Lord would argue this reduced their worries, preventing emotions from swaying their judgments, among his followers, rumors had spread that they served a Divine Spirit, a being comparable to the Evil God.

An upright god.

Only a few days ago, McCarthy had heard followers giving the Knight Lord a new title, distinguishing him from evil with "uprightness." He also knew that if the Knight Lord heard these discussions, he would surely scold them not to deify him.

He was no god, just a knight.

Their old friend often repeated this phrase.

"I am."

Lindong gave an unexpected answer.

McCarthy had thought he encountered Lindong's sister, perhaps even a cousin, after all, throughout his journey, he had met many people who looked almost identical.

Yet she persisted as Lindong.

This disrupted McCarthy's rhythm of conversation. After stammering for a moment, he asked, "Are you here to fish?"

He regretted it the moment he asked.

It was as stupid as walking into the camp kitchen, seeing the cook grilling steak, and asking, "Chef, what is your job?"

"I'm meditating."

"Meditating?"

"Reflecting on the past."

Lindong gazed at the lake, the water reflecting her exquisite and beautiful face.

Three candidates, the ritual to become an heir of the Old Gods, it was also her first confrontation with the Old Gods.

This was a significant turning point in her life, revisiting this place naturally required some time to reminisce, and at the same time, she couldn't help but envy "Lindong," who seemed like a blossom living in a honey pot, unscathed by the Empire's downfall, untouched by the Western Continent's disintegration, even in the territory of the Old Gods, not competing as rivals but as an honored guest.

Not to mention…

With Ethan by her side, cuddling together in the treehouse at night.

Tsk.

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