Returning to Cipher's perspective, three days passed in a flash. Daphne arrived at the Moon Circle tribe with about twenty Warlocks in tow. As Cipher surveyed the group, she saw that every single one was a beautiful young girl, their ages ranging from thirteen or fourteen to their early twenties. All of them were incredibly young, though the youngest, of course, was undoubtedly Daphne herself.
Still, Cipher couldn't help but think that this squad didn't look like they were heading into a fight at all. Instead, they gave off the distinct impression of a group of young ladies on a sightseeing tour.
Daphne was the first to speak. "Miss Cipher, have you successfully located the source of the corruption?"
Cipher tilted her head back slightly and replied without hesitation, "Of course!"
"Shall we set out immediately?" Daphne asked.
"Just a moment," Cipher said. "Okhema has sent another capable assistant. With his help, our operation should be much more secure."
As Cipher finished speaking, a Century Gate materialized before them. Aria and the others were unfazed, having seen this many times before, but Daphne froze for a moment, her expression filled with astonishment. "Teleportation Magic...?"
A Pixie materialized beside Daphne and said, "It's not Magic. It's something far more powerful."
Soon, a young man with white hair and a dog emerged from the Century Gate. The white-haired youth wore an outfit predominantly white, adorned with numerous golden decorations. A small blue cape was attached to his left pauldron.
The youth's face radiated a gentle expression, giving off an immediate impression of being easy to get along with. In short, he was the very picture of a "sunny and cheerful young man."
This white-haired youth was, of course, the new Identity Cipher had drawn just three days ago: Phainon.
He had already conducted a simple self-assessment. In terms of the power contained within his body, he was undoubtedly Phainon at his peak—the version from the storyline who had charged at Nanook to "treat him to a bowl of noodles."
Logically, a Phainon burdened by 402,604,044 Coreflames should never be able to wear such a gentle expression. But this Phainon wasn't the real him; he was just an "ordinary person" who hadn't endured 33,550,336 cycles of reincarnation.
He had only learned a fraction of what Phainon experienced through those thirty-three million cycles by playing the game and watching the story. Pain of that magnitude is impossible to truly comprehend without experiencing it firsthand. And honestly, he preferred the "sunny and cheerful young man" persona over the bitter, vengeful Phainon.
So, after drawing this Identity, he thought it over and decided to present himself to others with this brighter, more approachable demeanor.
It was worth noting that in the game's storyline, possessing so many Coreflames placed an unimaginable burden on Phainon's body. Yet, this version felt no such strain, likely due to the System's influence.
It was similar to how the Aglaea he had drawn wasn't blind, and Castorice could perfectly control her Authority over Life and Death. Even so, while there was no physical burden, there was still immense pressure.
It was like an ordinary person with little training holding a Barrett sniper rifle. Holding the weapon itself wouldn't cause any harm—it wasn't coated in sulfuric acid or prone to suddenly self-destructing. But even so, an ordinary person would still find the anti-materiel rifle far too heavy.
Phainon's current situation was similar. Because his power was too immense and his "weapon" too heavy, he felt a certain pressure. However, his mental fortitude was now incredibly resilient, and with this pressure distributed across his eleven Identities, it wasn't a major issue.
So, it was no exaggeration to say that back in Okhema, when Tribios first drew Phainon, her immediate thought was, "Game over."
Cipher's earlier comment that "this operation should be more stable" was, without a doubt, an extreme understatement. With Phainon standing here, Cipher couldn't imagine how they could possibly lose the upcoming battle. In fact, she now found herself hoping that the Mother of Flesh's True Body would appear before them. Wouldn't that be a good thing?
She absolutely had to give the Mother of Flesh a taste of what a real beatdown felt like.
Phainon looked at the people before him and said, "My name is Phainon. It's a pleasure to meet you."
Daphne's immediate reaction was, "A helper from Okhema... Are you also a Demigod?"
Truthfully, she couldn't sense any divine power from Phainon. The white-haired young man standing there seemed like nothing more than an ordinary warrior. But with Cipher as a precedent—she hadn't sensed any divine power from her either—Daphne didn't dare jump to conclusions.
Besides, at this critical juncture, Okhema wouldn't possibly send an ordinary person to help, would they?
Phainon replied, "But more than that, I prefer another title: Hero."
"And not just me," he continued, gesturing to the others. "All of you here. Aren't you all striving to protect this world? That makes you all heroes, or at least, on the path to becoming heroes."
"Huh? Hero? Me?" Aria looked flustered, scratching her cheek with her index finger. "No, not at all. I'm just doing what I can."
But Phainon replied, "No, that's more than enough."
As they spoke, the "little dog" that had arrived with Phainon—and was now standing beside him—scanned the surroundings before trotting over to Aria's feet. This little creature was, of course, Half.
Phainon hadn't come directly to the Great Forest; he had first made a two-day stop in the Northern Territory Empire.
Thanks to Cerydra's efforts, Half hadn't fully recovered his strength, but he was about seventy to eighty percent healed. However, much like the relationship between Aria and Olivia before, the current Half wasn't entirely the same as the Half of the past.
Yet, the bond at the soul level remained unbroken. Half leaped directly into Aria's arms. And because of Evernight's "prank," Aria now knew the history of their past. She hugged the fluffy little creature tightly, nuzzling her cheek against his fur.