"How do you collect or control the Seed of Light?" Duke asked the key question.

A hint of difficulty crossed Dali’s face. "The secret text is extremely vague. It only mentions that one must respond with a heart of pure light and guide it with a sacred ritual before one can approach and accept it. The concrete details of the ritual are probably long lost. However—" she changed tack, "since it appeared on an ancient altar, the key to controlling it might be tied to the altar itself, or to specific runes or relics left behind upon it. The Four Gods Sect is in such a hurry to study it; I suspect that’s their goal as well."

"What’s the current attitude inside the sect?" Duke shifted to ask about the present situation.

Dali sighed softly, lowering her voice a little. "The split is severe. Elder Carlos and the radicals see this as the dawn of revival and advocate seizing it at all costs, even if it means clashing with the Four Gods Sect.

But the conservatives led by Cardinal Hohenheim are deeply worried. They believe the sect is not strong enough to join this kind of struggle and should prioritize preserving its strength.

For now the leadership is arguing endlessly with no conclusion, only sending more spies. I’ve also been explicitly ordered not to intervene in this matter in the name of the sect on my own initiative."

There was a trace of helplessness in her words, the helplessness of someone caught in the center of the whirlpool.

Duke could understand; after all, the Light Sect was still far weaker than the Four Gods Sect.

Even with the help of those players from Star Embers, which had made their development smoother.

There was still a huge gap at the top level of combat strength. The Four Gods Sect had Level 3 Life Great Mages.

Even if those Great Mages might already be extremely old and frail and unable to act lightly.

As long as they existed, they were the Four Gods Sect’s confidence, making other forces wary of acting rashly against them.

The Light Sect was different. Their strongest combat strength was only at Level 2 Mage Level; they had no Level 3 Great Mage.

That left them constrained on all sides, needing to think twice about anything they did.

Especially now, when the Light Sect had entered a promising phase of development, the conservatives within naturally wanted steady growth, minimizing conflict with the Four Gods Sect.

Even if that ruin obviously belonged to the Light Sect, they were considering giving it up and staying out of the struggle.

But of course others had different ideas. Not everyone could just watch something that originally belonged to the Light Sect be taken by someone else, and thus disputes arose.

Duke had no intention of getting involved in these internal affairs of the Light Sect, and in fact Dali had not revealed much information about Duke to the rest of the sect.

His current goal was very clear: he definitely had to go take a look at that ruin.

If what lay within the ruin really was the Seed of Light, it would be a great boon to Duke, who possessed the Light God Court.

It was just that the situation was complicated now: not only were large numbers of players gathered around the ruin, but the Four Gods Sect and some members of the Light Sect were also involved.

Trying to seize that thing amid so many people would not be easy.

"Keep monitoring the internal situation, especially the radicals’ private activities. Try to gather more information from those reclusive elders about the Seed of Light and any ancient rituals possibly related to it—be careful how you do it," Duke instructed.

"Yes, Lord Duke." Dali answered softly. A flash of concern passed through her eyes. "Please... be very careful. That place has become the eye of the storm now."

Duke gave a slight nod and dispelled the sound‑proofing Witch Array.

He said nothing more. After signaling to Dali, he slipped away along the path he had come, his figure soon vanishing at the end of the corridor where light and shadow intertwined.

Dali stood alone where she was, gazing in the direction he had left. Only after a long while did she withdraw her gaze and turn to face the white flowers in the courtyard. Her expression returned to its usual calm firmness, though deep in her eyes there was a faint, hard‑to‑detect trace of worry.

Duke, meanwhile, had already left the Light Sect’s complex as quietly as a drop of water merging into a river.

The road outside the city stretched out before him, and from the distant eastern horizon there seemed to come an invisible pull.

After leaving Azure Vault City, Duke put on a dark gray cloak with a large hood, hiding his face and figure completely in shadow.

Following the coordinates Robert had sent him, he headed east, crossing gradually desolate hills toward the Ashen Mountains.

The closer he drew to that region, the more obvious the subtle change in the air became.

Within the Oracle Plane’s originally thin energy environment, wisps of pure light‑element aura began to mingle, like drops of ink falling into still water and slowly spreading out.

He encountered more and more players along the way, moving in small groups of three or five, hurrying along with expressions that mixed excitement and vigilance. From time to time he could hear them loudly discussing things like "hidden quests" and "epic gear."

A day later, Duke arrived at the agreed meeting place, the entrance to a hidden valley on the outskirts of the Ashen Mountains.

They were far from the main road here. Jagged rocks jutted all around, and vegetation was sparse—an easy place to overlook.

Before even entering the valley, Duke sensed the many life signatures gathered within, arranged in an orderly fashion, without the noisy chaos typical of random crowds of players.

When his hooded figure appeared at the valley mouth, two sharp‑eyed players in matching Standard Leather Armor immediately came forward to meet him.

On their chests they wore the emblem of the Star Embers Guild: a star wreathed in ember‑like radiance.

"Halt. This is a temporary encampment of the Star Embers Guild," one of the players said in a low voice, his hand resting on the hilt at his waist. He remained polite, but his wariness was obvious.