I'm fighting Kal'tsit? Really?

When some of the older banshees saw Gerald come back with his sword and attack again, they almost used spells to stop him. Fortunately, the leader of the banshees was more composed and knew her sisters' temperaments, so she stopped the banshees from doing so.

However, the young succubi had never seen such a display of power.

In their eyes, Ramalen was a hero who had slain countless enemies on the battlefield and, together with the Carrion King, repelled the allied forces of the three kingdoms. However, during the final defensive battle, they were not assigned to the walls near Kazdel in order to ensure their survival, and thus never witnessed Gerald's true strength.

Now they know.

The scene of all the spells disappearing in an instant was so eerie that the young banshees' curiosity about Gerald that morning turned into a deep-seated awe.

This is accompanied by the shattering of one's worldview.

"That's good too."

Lamaren smiled nonchalantly, “Just as you said, the children should know that their Queen is not omnipotent, and even her proud spell can be broken. This memory will be etched deep into their memories, and even into the memories of the banshee race.”

"As for now—"

"I don't think we should be the ones who destroy children's thinking, don't you think?"

Lamaren winked at the Pegasus in front of her, then reached out and wrapped her arms around his waist, while picking up her bone pen with her right hand.

Incantations surged beneath them, though no longer as powerful as before, but the oppressive aura emanating from them still made people instinctively look away.

But Gerald wasn't having any of it.

He grasped the hand holding the bone pen in Ramallian's hand, slowly raising his gaze to meet her eyes, bringing them so close they could almost feel each other's breath.

His gaze lingered there, fixed on those gentle eyes that revealed a hint of panic.

Lamarle's gaze gradually lost its strength to resist. Finally, she lowered her eyes, her long eyelashes casting soft shadows, as if avoiding his overly direct gaze.

Her other hand gently touched the back of Gerald's hand.

The silence seemed to stretch on endlessly until her voice drifted out softly, like a gentle breeze across a valley:

"I will sing for you."

"The valley's bounty, the wind that makes all things flow."

"This is true today, and it will be true tomorrow."

"[This melody will not stop until one side comes to an end.]"

"Because it was you who granted me freedom, freeing me from the heavy burden of duty."

"[—My beloved.]"

Chapter Thirty-Two: Time to quickly read through the game "Island Storm" once more.

Wake up from dream.

This dream led Gerald to three conclusions.

First, there were no new relics. Furthermore, when he emerged, the necklace on his chest remained unchanged, still showing signs of being one-fifth missing, suggesting that the outcome of the dream might be closely related to the state of the necklace.

Death may be a dividing line. If he escapes the dream again through death, the missing color on the necklace might become even more severe.

Secondly, there is another potential way to escape from dreams: losing consciousness in a dream.

In the latter half, he was barely managing to stay conscious. After leaving the Tower of Words, he was almost constantly in a daze, and when he was taken to the room, he lost consciousness.

The curse still had a profound effect on him. Even though Ramalen quickly restored him to his original state, the lingering side effects even showed signs of affecting reality.

Third, the Lamaren is extremely terrifying.

The ruler of the royal court, yet he speaks such insidious words; truly... his methods are despicable.

Gerald slowly sat up in bed and then gently covered his face. He didn't even turn around to look when Anthony cast a curious glance at him.

...At this point, it's hard to deceive ourselves anymore.

Dreams are inexplicable, and he didn't think that with the current information, he could glean any clues that led directly to the core answer.

But the cloth and necklace he wore, the relics he acquired, and the experience and skills he learned from conversations and battles in his dreams, are all real.

For him, these are not only a continuation of dreams, but also a reality intertwined with the realities of life.

Whether it's another timeline, a real past, or some unknown past at work, it doesn't matter.

Simply asking yourself questions will resolve your current doubts.

If he puts his energy and sincerity into his dream, will it have any impact on him? Will it cross his bottom line? Will it make him feel regretful? Will it affect reality?

The answer is: positive impact, no, no, highly unlikely.

Just like with General Felin, experience and knowledge will nourish him. As for the unexpected situation and the relationship between this rapid progress and... since the previous dreams allowed him to enjoy the most perfect battles without any cost, this time he can just consider it as making up for the debt he owed before.

Moreover, he was willing to acknowledge the sorceress lord—both her determination to perpetuate her power and her strength were worthy of his respect.

So all that's left is to face this uncertainty head-on.

……

"What are you doing, staring at me like that?"

Gerald rubbed his face vigorously to clear his head, then walked to the mirror, glanced at Anthony next door, and then at the clock on the wall: "Why are you making that face?"

Two hours have passed on the clock on the wall, roughly the same pace as last time.

"I want to ask this question, too."

Anthony, who had been quietly reading, had noticed Gerald napping earlier. His expression was subtle, as if he had witnessed something strange and eerie: "You give me a feeling of... profound enlightenment. Can one achieve profound enlightenment while napping?"

“You understand now.” Gerald looked at himself in the mirror, who indeed seemed to look radiant. “Didn’t I tell you this morning that I would explain my arrangements later?”

"Hmm? Hmm." Anthony was momentarily puzzled by the change in topic, but he didn't mind talking about business: "I also went to the infirmary this morning and met Robin, the one who came to assassinate me."

"She'll be coming again this afternoon to change her dressing. Do you want to come with me?"

Robin… Ah, that rare Anaty, one of the assassins who came looking for Anthony.

The downside of dreams is that if you stay in them for too long, your memories of reality will be slightly affected.

Dealing with two things at the same time would make it difficult to concentrate. Considering the current unclear mechanism and potential risks in reality, the best solution now is to resolve the matter with Mansfield first, and then start collecting information from the dream.

The situation here won't drag on for too long; it's time to resolve many things quickly. For the next few days, let's put the necklace down.

After roughly grasping the crux of the problem, Gerald used his wind sense to check his surroundings. Confirming no one was around, he nodded: "Alright, what's your plan now?"

“Things took a slight turn for the worse.” Anthony sighed after hearing this. “Kafka said that we originally had another friend who was in charge of figuring out the prison structure and escape routes. But today, she was caught by prison guards searching her cell and they took the blueprints from her.”

After saying that, Anthony looked directly at Gerald: "That friend said that the person who took the blueprints was a female prison guard, and a Waifan at that."

“This?” Gerald pulled out the blueprints that Anthony had been longing for from the corner of the cell. After drawing the structural diagram of the storage area for Saria, the blueprints were no longer of any use to her. “It’s alright, you know that prison guard is one of our own.”

“Why am I not surprised at all?” Anthony glanced at it silently. “Put it away. The camera is still filming. Luckily, you have the habit of taking notes.”

Gerald casually rolled up the drawings and placed them on the table beside him: "Just treat it as a poster for Duma to put on the wall. Be generous and don't arouse suspicion."

“…You’re right.” Anthony silently considered all the necessary elements: “So, that prison guard was the escape plan you prepared, and the reason you’ve been with her these past few days is also to escape from here?”

"Pretty much, but you might have to leave first, I have to stay here with her for a while."

"Why?" Anthony frowned in confusion. "We're not going to leave you here and go on our own."

"Because this relates to Colombian political issues."

Gerald looked at himself in the mirror, took off his upper prison uniform, revealing his body underneath and the cloth wrapped around his right arm.

The colors on the fabric were replenished and became more vibrant, as if they were about to flow out of it.

There was something he didn't say.

He did not come away empty-handed from his duel with Lamaren.

After waking up from the dream, although some of the mental pain still lingered, the wind brought him more sensory experiences he had never had before—for example, as he listened carefully to the sounds the wind brought him, the stench coming from the Mansfield powerhouse also entered his mind.

Beside the heart of the mobile sector, a furnace is constantly burning firewood.

The source of that stench was the burning blood and flesh.

Now that Chapter Thirty-Three is explained, it's time to get to work.

Mansfield, Medical Room.

Pushing open the door to the infirmary, Gerald was greeted by the familiar smell of medicine and disinfectant. His gaze swept across the room, where people were either standing or sitting, almost filling the small space to capacity.

"It feels like we're becoming more and more like a small clique," he sighed. "It's almost like a bunch of delinquent students skipping class. Although we don't seem to have any bad students among us, except Kafka?"

"Me?!" Kafka pointed to herself in shock, clearly having become familiar with everyone in just one day: "When I was in college, I was always in the top ten of my class!"

"Positive numbers? Also, universities are ranked?"

"I just checked the professor's computer privately, and there's no point in talking about it." Kafka waved his hand, looking nonchalant. "Who told me that when I infiltrated, those people had already studied the textbook content? Exams are about luck; if you memorize all the knowledge points, isn't that cheating?"

"...So, Kafka meant that even though she hadn't studied anything, several people still scored worse than her?" Duma looked up, her face serious as she posed her question, her voice even carrying an undisguised genuine bewilderment. "Is this really true?"

As soon as he finished speaking, Robin in the corner suddenly covered his face with his hands, seemingly trying his best to hide his expression.

Anthony cleared his throat and straightened up. His gaze swept across the room, trying to steer the conversation back to the main topic before it drifted off again:

"Alright, stop fooling around. Robin and Kafka don't have much time here, so we'd better get started quickly. Robin, while you were gone, we talked about some things you mentioned. Could you please repeat them to Gerald?"

Pegasus's sharp eyes looked at Robin, causing her shoulders to tremble involuntarily, as if she hadn't fully emerged from the shadows of the past.

The wound on her leg seemed to throb slightly at this moment, but Robin quickly gritted her teeth and suppressed her fear.

“Uh, oh, okay.” Her voice was slightly nervous. “This is about the person who hired me, the one I mentioned before.”

“He came directly to me.”

……

"You mean-"

Gerald frowned, a hint of hesitation in his voice.

He tried to piece together the scattered information, which was clearly interconnected: "Your father, as the general manager of the Black Cloud Group under the Hyde Brothers, is now in need of exorbitant medical expenses for treatment because of the Simon family's counterattack?"

“Then,” he emphasized, “that’s why that guy named Jeston hired you, because you have a grudge against Anthony.”

“Ah…yes.” Robin nodded, his voice lowering, a hint of sadness barely concealed on his face.

"Now it seems that even if I succeed, he has no reason to release us from prison. He probably just wants to use my anger to make me willingly help him complete this commission."

Unexpectedly, Gerald shook his head, a hint of certainty in his expression: "Don't worry too much. You're just an unlucky guy who got caught up in it. As for Jeston and his real backers, they don't really care about Anthony's life or death."

“Wait a minute,” Kafka couldn’t help but interject, “What do you mean by ‘not caring’? Isn’t it Jesston, hired by the Hyde brothers?”

“No, I am not important, nor are the Hyde brothers who hired Jeston.”

Anthony nodded, agreeing with Gerald's statement: "Robin mentioned earlier that Jeston gave her an advance of 300,000 Columbia Gold Certificates. Even if Jeston wanted to swindle money from it, he wouldn't have needed to transfer that money directly into Robin's account. Besides, he wouldn't have been able to get that money back; it's highly likely that his company directly instructed him to do so, otherwise, that money would have been a complete waste for him."

“That company… is the beach umbrella company I mentioned before?” Duma tried to sort out these complicated relationships in her mind, but her expression revealed a hint of dizziness. “But why would a pharmaceutical company get involved in this kind of thing?”

“Beach Umbrella and Mansfield have a partnership, and Randolph was once a member of Beach Umbrella,” Gerald added, providing crucial information.

“So that’s the reason.” Anthony sighed and looked at Gerald: “For them, there are other things in prison more important than me, so it doesn’t matter whether I die, escape, or remain imprisoned. As long as someone’s attention is diverted.”

"The only possibility I can think of is your friend, Gerald."

Completely correct.

This largely aligns with previous reasoning, but this conclusion completely clarifies the situation in Mansfield.

Organized chronologically, the warden learns that Saria needs to be imprisoned for investigation and that it is related to Anthony —> learns about the Hyde Brothers' recent activities and cooperates with them through the beach umbrella —> by assassinating Anthony, he diverts Saria's attention to Anthony to prevent the matter from being exposed.

The reasons are not the key; the key is to understand everyone's motivations and behavioral logic.

Anthony and his team's escape plan won't face too many obstacles. Considering his current ability to manipulate the wind, as long as they find a way to get close to Columbia and discover a path to the outside world, they can leave directly.

Thinking of this, Gerald glanced at the heights of the three women in the room, and finally fixed his gaze on Duma.

“Duma,” Gerald began, “when will Mansfield next approach Colombia?”

"We will arrive in Ticalendo in ten days and get some supplies. However, the stopover will be short. The mobile section will be in a soft docking state, the docking area will not be connected, and no one will go out. Only the supply area will be connected."

Duma replied, his eyes filled with curiosity, "Do you have a plan, Gerald?"

He nodded slightly and took out the blueprint from his person.

"Let's take a look at the structure of the prison design first."

"If we're lucky, we can start our operation in ten days."