Having finished copying the enigmatic symbols, Xiaofeng meticulously scoured the cavern once more. Beyond the bare essentials for daily life, nothing else remained—not even a single weapon. Puzzled yet resolute, Xiaofeng and Qin Tian departed the cave, their minds burdened with unanswered questions.
A new task now consumed Xiaofeng's thoughts: to unravel the meaning behind these cryptic patterns.
Rejoining Giant, Pandora, and the others, they pressed onward without pause toward the New City. Deep within, Xiaofeng sensed only one person capable of deciphering such glyphs—Lei Yan.
The city itself lay in desolation, yet its ancient architecture stood remarkably preserved, as if untouched by the cataclysmic purges that ravaged the world. These structures, bearing the weathered grandeur of millennia, bore sculpted stone and brick worn by time—a melancholic beauty etched in ruin.
The city's most famed edifice was the Coliseum, a colossal arena dating back to antiquity, still proudly towering beneath the amber hues of sunset. Nearly ten thousand allied soldiers garrisoned the city; the Alliance High Command recognized its rarity and value, thus deploying heavy forces to safeguard it. Perhaps it was Earth's most precious surviving relic.
As dusk deepened, a massive aircraft descended slowly from the sky, touching down at the Coliseum's heart. Meanwhile, a contingent of Alliance officers gathered there, leisurely drinking around a long table laden with roasted meats and fine whiskey.
Nearby stood a fighting ring, constructed from enormous stone blocks—each measuring nearly three cubic meters—and encircled by thick iron chains hung from stout pillars. Such a formidable arena was rare on Earth. Yet despite its sturdiness, not a single iron pillar stood perfectly straight; each bore a subtle curve, and the ring's surface was pocked with countless indentations—testaments to the ferocity of the battles once fought within.
The aircraft's landing drew the officers' attention. Recognizing the imposing warplane as belonging to the Alliance, they ceased their revelry, hastily straightening their uniforms as they rose to salute.
Once the engines fell silent, the bulky cabin door swung open, and Jack, Yuan, Poseidon, and Caesar disembarked. Caesar marveled at the splendid structure before him, awestruck. "Damn... To think such a monument still stands on Earth—truly a miracle."
Jack smiled wryly. "It must be divine providence that preserved this city. Perhaps even God intended it as a refuge upon descending to the mortal realm."
"Ha, you may be right," Caesar chuckled, casting a disdainful glance at the drinking officers. Their negligent indulgence incensed him; if he were their superior, he vowed he would mete out stern punishment for such dereliction of duty.
The officers exchanged puzzled looks at the sight of the four newcomers—none donned military uniforms, leaving their ranks and titles inscrutable.
But one officer fixed his gaze on Poseidon, recognition dawning. He whispered hurriedly to his comrades, "That's Poseidon in the white suit—one of the Seven Gods. I've seen him a few times before."
"The Seven Gods?"
"The Alliance's elite, directly under Boss Sam's command," the officer replied, wide-eyed.
From that moment, the officers treated the four with newfound respect; the Seven Gods held considerable renown within the Alliance.
Caesar turned to Jack. "What about those two you mentioned?"
"Wait a moment—they should be arriving shortly," Jack replied, pulling out his communicator to contact the remaining two of the Seven Fiends.
As their words faded, two riders galloped swiftly through the Coliseum's entrance. Each astride a towering black steed, nearly three meters tall—a fearsome Grade F or E magical beast.
The riders themselves were an incongruous pair: one tall and robust, the other short and wiry. The tall man looked perfectly at home atop his mount, exuding raw power, while his diminutive companion appeared cunning and sly.
They pulled up before Jack, laughing heartily as they dismounted. The burly man stood over two meters tall, even more imposing than White, yet still less massive than Giant. The smaller man, barely five-foot-seven, seemed dwarfed beside his companion.
The sly man approached Jack, voice laced with sly amusement. "I thought you were bluffing, didn't expect you to actually come all the way from Alliance headquarters. Was the flight exhausting?"
Jack nodded tiredly. "Exhausting indeed. Come, let me introduce you. This is Poseidon—I imagine you're acquainted, or at least you should be. And this is Caesar, someone you've yet to meet."
The two scrutinized Poseidon and Caesar before grinning. "You both look pretty formidable."
Caesar shook his head modestly. "Not me—I'm not a combat-type psychic ability user. I'm the weakest."
The officers grew curious, murmuring among themselves.
Jack cut through the chatter. "Enough. You all carry on with your drinking. We're catching up among brothers. And it wouldn't hurt if you prepared some food and drink for us as well."
The officers hurried off to comply.
The sly man eyed Caesar inquisitively. "If you're not combat-oriented, what kind of ability do you have?"
"Support type. I can amplify your power tremendously in a short span, accelerating the advancement of your psychic abilities. That's my specialty."
Jack added beside him, "His ability is evolutionary in nature. We've all undergone his transformation. We're practically different people now. If you don't try it, you'll never understand the effect."