Chapter 1421 - 923: The Beginning
Tower of Trial summit.
Outside, in alternate space, the top of the tower presents a translucent appearance.
Kana’s gaze slowly sweeps across the alternate space he personally established, situated at the summit of the Tower of Trial.
The prototype of the rule network has been clearly outlined in his consciousness, every key "interface" and "main road" is distinctly visible.
Of course, these won’t appear in reality, but the corresponding threads and thoughts have already been deeply engraved into his mind like a meticulous plan.
When he needs knowledge, the relevant knowledge will be provided precisely as ready-made templates.
This way, he can effectively avoid the world will randomly applying what he knows through vague descriptions— the more detailed the description, the more accurate the response; the vaguer the concept, the more likely it is to be misunderstood and filled in instinctively by the world.
Kana whispered to himself, as if conducting a final confirmation.
"Using the data rule as the main axis, with shallow touches on other rules... The key lies in ’manifestation’ and ’guidance,’ rather than substitution..."
His voice reverberated in the silent space, carrying an unmistakable certainty.
After confirming no errors, he nodded with great satisfaction.
The originally expanded, data light wheel continuously rotating suddenly shrunk, transforming back into a serene aura, quietly floating behind Kana’s head, its glow restrained.
Kana himself quietly withdrew from the divine posture, reverting to a presence closer to that of a mortal.
The preparations here are just about complete.
His figure flickered gently, instantly disappearing from this serene, stable space, as if he had never existed.
The next moment, a faint ripple appeared in the high-level conference room of the Ring Tower City Night Watchers.
Kana’s figure appeared suddenly, like mist condensing, steadily beside the long table, precisely interrupting the ongoing discussion.
"Kana!"
"Leader!"
"You are here!"
Surrounding the conference table—Alyris, Bobo, Maxim, Blake, Lurik, and other core high-level members.
Initially surprised, they soon showed expressions of joy, immediately standing to greet him, the chairs lightly scraping against the floor.
Kana looked at these familiar faces, a warm and comforting smile appeared on his face.
His gaze swept over everyone, carrying a touch of reflection from time passed.
Firstly, he extended a firm handshake to Blake, who walked over with big strides, both of them inadvertently smiling, forcefully patting each other’s back, releasing a solid thud.
Blake knows Kana dislikes being overly revered due to his so-called divine identity, nor does he treat him this way.
After all, they had once fought side by side, and their friendship had long surpassed identity.
Kana is no different, the handshake and back patting at this moment is his most direct response to their friendship.
"Blake," Kana’s gaze lingers on the golden-haired general, his voice carrying sincere praise, "You now have more and more of a general’s majesty, even growing a beard, more imposing."
Blake, tall and burly, still sporting bright golden hair, but the youthful gentleness and tenderness of a young aristocratic knight have been replaced by resolute angles and a weathered appearance.
Faint scars from battles etch the fires of war, extending along his cheeks and brow ridge.
These scars could completely disappear through the powerful healing ability of the Night Watchers, but Blake chose to retain them.
Among the Night Watchers, scars are given special significance due to their formidable healing abilities.
Each scar left on the body is a badge worthy of commemoration, bearing an indelible memory of battle.
There are, of course, less serious commemorations.
For example:
"See this scar? This cut only cost me xx blood."
"Let me tell you, this scar pierced through from here, only left a layer of skin, but I fought the entire battle relying on this skin, impressive or what?"
Things like this.
Being a serious general leader, all Blake’s commemorations are indeed formal, regarded as a sign of blood connection with the soldiers.
He sports carefully groomed stubble on his chin and cheeks, exuding a maturity and steadiness honed through years and iron-blooded trials.
He had long transformed from the elegant young aristocratic knight into a true iron-blooded general commanding thousands.
And Blake, cheerfully smiling at Kana, his gaze reflecting sincere admiration.
"You completely mastered divine power, unlike before when emotions and rules swayed you."
"Haha, I’m a genius after all."
Kana replied with a rare touch of relaxation.
Then, Kana’s gaze gently turned to the Elf Mage Maxim.
"Maxim, you’re still the same."
This evaluation carries a hint of understanding and jest towards the elves’ elongated lifespan.
Indeed, for elves with lengthy lives, these years passing seem like a breeze, leaving no obvious mark on his handsome appearance and calm demeanor, he remains the wise and elegant mage.
Decades are but a fleeting moment for elves.
Maxim returns the gesture with the same serene smile as before, nodding slightly in response: "Time indeed flows slower for us."
Finally, Kana stepped forward, engaging in a strong, power-filled embrace with the Dwarf Lurik.
"Lurik, my old friend!"