480: Golden Legend

Only when a private message simultaneously satisfied the following two conditions could it receive such special treatment:

First, it had to contain key terms with specific meanings like "plane," "rift," or "God War"; second, the encryption method used had to match at least three variants of Spirit Script.

Zhulong's fingers paused on the jade panel.

Before the frost-covered console, the ID "Key of the Abyss" was like a grain of coarse sand stuck in a clam shell, submerged in a flood of private messages saying "Wife is so beautiful" and "Sister, let's cuddle."

The title "Planar Rift and Echoes of the Past" was written in standard Ancient Eastern Seal Script, but the meaning permeating the lines made Zhulong feel a strange sense of familiarity mixed with the unfamiliar.

This puppet consciousness had been running for less than half a year.

The program was written by Him personally, with clear and simple rules.

Filter useless information, mark abnormal content, and brand private messages that required the main body's personal attention with a golden mark.

Over the past few months, tens of thousands of private messages had flooded into this account, and the puppet had always handled them cleanly and efficiently.

At least Zhulong had never been distracted because of it.

He only needed to spend three hours every day playing the role of "Candle Shadow Shaking Red"; the rest of the time was spent practicing or sleeping as usual.

The golden mark had never lit up.

This was the first time!

Zhulong clicked open the private message.

The content was very brief, only three lines:

"The aftermath on the Ativi Continent has not yet settled, and the rift hides profound mysteries.

We hold the Key of the Abyss and wish to explore the truth together with the Lamp Bearer of the Source Realm.

—High Priest Alvaro"

[Ativi Continent.]

Zhulong remembered this plane.

A thousand years ago, that invasive God War affected half of Mercury's territory, and the Outer Gods of the Ativi Continent were also swept into it.

At that time, He was sleeping in the Demon Realm, only vaguely sensing the distant tremors coming from the planar barrier.

As for the "Key of the Abyss" and "High Priest Alvaro"... Zhulong had no impression of them.

However, that was not important.

What was important was the encryption method of this private message.

It utilized three variants of Spirit Script, one of which belonged to a cipher system circulating among high-level deities, and the signature at the end was even woven with fine Time Flow Patterns.

[Time Flow Patterns.]

Zhulong's gaze lingered on that faint golden thread for a moment.

This technique was usually used to ensure that information was not tampered with and that the sending time could be precisely traced; it was often only activated when establishing major contracts or divine covenants.

Why would a "High Priest" from the Ativi Continent use such a high-spec encryption method to send a private message to a livestreaming account???

Zhulong leaned back into the chair, the crimson hem of the dress spreading out on the clear ice surface like surging blood. He stared at those few lines, his knuckles silently tapping on the armrest.

"Wish to explore the truth together with the Lamp Bearer of the Source Realm..."

Lamp Bearer.

This title was thought-provoking.

Not calling Him "God," nor "Great Demon," it avoided all titles that displayed power and rank, choosing only a neutral, even somewhat reclusive and poetic "Lamp Bearer."

It was as if whispering: I know who is beneath this skin, and I also understand which ice curtain Your Excellency is hidden behind.

But coming here today is not intended to lift the curtain, but merely to talk with Your Excellency about the scenery this lamp can illuminate.

The corners of Zhulong's lips curled into a tiny arc. The smile was very faint, floating on the surface and not reaching his eyes.

It had been nearly half a year since He created the identity of "Candle Shadow Shaking Red," disguising himself as a human streamer who was slightly knowledgeable in spiritual rhythm, could sing a few ancient tunes, and was skilled in the art of makeup.

This was the first time receiving such a private message.

It wasn't the fanatical praise of fans, nor a formatted cooperation invitation from a brand, nor those sugar-coated probes between peers.

Instead, it was a letter from another plane, with an encryption level high enough to trigger the golden seal, yet with content as ambiguous as an ancient riddle.

This game seemed to be starting to reveal its interesting edges.

Zhulong closed the private message interface and stood up to walk to the Mysterious Ice Mirror.

Reflected in the mirror was still that exquisitely made-up face, the smoky purple flowing light brocade dress making the skin appear as cold and white as snow. The pale gold shimmer at the corners of the eyes had not yet been removed, glinting in the dim light of the palace.

He raised a hand, pressing his palm against the mirror surface. A chilly sensation spread along the texture of the skin.

The eyes of the person in the mirror gradually changed.

The soft warmth and laziness belonging to "Candle Shadow Shaking Red" receded like a tide, and a hint of golden-red surfaced in the depths of the pupils, like lava slowly surging beneath a layer of ice.

"Alvaro," Zhulong whispered the name.

A priest of the Ativi Continent.

A high-ranking member of the Abyss Church?

His knowledge of the sects on the Ativi Continent was limited to sporadic records on ancient scrolls.

As for why this priest "Alvaro" sought out "Candle Shadow Shaking Red"... the golden-red color in Zhulong's eyes deepened.

There were only two possibilities.

First, the other party truly was just interested in "Candle Shadow Shaking Red" and, having a special status, used high-level encryption to send the message. This possibility was minuscule, almost non-existent.

Second, the other party knew the true face beneath the skin of "Candle Shadow Shaking Red."

Knowing that behind this exquisitely made-up body sat one of the three rulers of the Source Realm, a Ninth-Rank Great Demon who had lived for untold tens of thousands of years.

If it were the latter... Zhulong withdrew his hand from the mirror surface.

The eyes in the mirror had returned to the soft and warm appearance of "Candle Shadow Shaking Red."

Then this private message was by no means a simple greeting.

It was a probe, a brick to knock on the door, the quiet opening of an even more complex chessboard.

He slowly walked back to the console, pulled up the private message again, and his gaze fell on the signature at the end.

The Time Flow Patterns showed that this letter was sent eighteen hours and thirty-seven minutes ago.

The transmission path went through seven Spirit World jumps, finally landing at a vague spatial coordinate on the Ativi Continent.

Every detail was seamless and impeccable.

Identity, encryption method, transmission trajectory, time stamp... it was as perfect as a meticulously crafted letter of allegiance.

It was precisely this overly deliberate perfection that gave Zhulong a long-lost sense of novelty.

For three months, he had faced the repetitive pile of "Wife is so beautiful" and "Sister, let's cuddle" every day. Occasionally, one or two slightly meaningful bullet comments would appear—like that string of numeric IDs that requested "ode to the red cliffs" tonight—but they were just fleeting ripples.

But this private message was completely different.

Standing behind it was a "Priest" from another plane, with a mysterious identity and superb encryption methods, whose words were as winding as a secluded path.

A visitor exuding an aura of the unknown.

Zhulong was silent for a moment, his palm gently brushing over the warm jade panel.

He created a new reply, even shorter, with only two lines: "A lamp can illuminate the path, and it can also burn as fuel."

No signature, no encryption.

It was written using only the most basic Spirit Script, without even an IP jump, sent directly from the "Candle Shadow Shaking Red" account.