Chapter 100: The Long-Awaited Mission Finally Begins

After a brief sensation of weightlessness, Provence opened his eyes.

During their first teleportation, most people would keep their eyes shut, but as they grew accustomed to the process, they would struggle to keep them open, vainly attempting to record the shift in space-time that lasted less than a ten-thousandth of a second.

Provence, however, did not care for such meaningless tasks. At this lowly stage, any attempt to pry into the secrets of the Box Garden was futile and would only bring about a hollow sense of helplessness. To the Box Garden, a Level 5 was merely an ant; only the eighth energy level could truly be said to have stepped onto the stage of the multiverse.

Only the weak, those who grew frantic if they did not grasp at something, were so desperate to find answers. As for him, he only needed to wait quietly for the answers to come to him.

That was Provence’s philosophy.

Provence also believed that commanding these weaklings and constructing a perfect order was the duty of the strong, just as enjoying the paths paved by the weak was the right of the strong. Perhaps this mindset was linked to his past life as the eldest legitimate son of a noble family.

Destined for greatness, he should have inherited his title through his perfect lineage and exceptional abilities, yet he was assassinated in his youth.

Still, he did truly enjoy this Box Garden, filled as it was with surprises. He loved these worlds of vastly different styles; it was a freedom and grandeur he had never experienced while enjoying his life of nobility.

The Apostles in the City of Mourning were all living dead who had died once, only to be granted life and hope again by the Reaper. They held their breath and struggled with all their might, hoping only to make up for the regrets of their past lives.

Provence sighed silently. What beautiful, futile struggles they were.

Shaking off the untimely sentimentality, Provence began to observe his surroundings.

A gloomy sky was draped in a layer of gray clouds that seemed destined never to dissipate. A sparse, struggling starlight filtered through the clouds, hitting the fine, grayish-yellow soil of the ground like the eerie eyes of the heavens, flickering with a cold, pale emptiness.

Looking out by the dim starlight, one could see patches of dark-green moss-like matter clinging to the ground. Not far away, undulating mounds resembled dormant, unsettling beasts.

Barren, dark, and gray—this was Provence’s first impression, and he was certain everyone else felt the same.

However, he had encountered harsher environments. By comparison, there was no sign of life within his field of vision yet, which meant the battle would not begin immediately.

Then, his expression soured.

He saw a snowy-white figure standing quietly not far away, as if it had not yet adapted to the new environment.

Provence calmly made a gesture, and the seven team members who had entered with him instinctively shifted into a state of high alert. Even though they had no idea why, they strictly followed their leader’s instructions, quietly priming their weapons and activating the supernatural power within their bodies, ready to fight at a moment's notice.

The snowy-white figure seemed to sense something, and a pair of turbid, gray-red swirling eyes looked over.

The low-level mage, Ava, lamented through their mental link: "Eh, such a cute little girl, why is her gaze so terrifying?"

Kant retorted in his youthful voice: "Yuck, what a scary old hag."

"Shush, shush, you little brat, do you even know what caring and protection mean?"

The others seemed to sense why their captain was acting as if facing a formidable enemy. Lin Jersey, the thin, gaunt mentalist, said solemnly: "Be careful. It is likely the recently appeared Level 5 Apostle, Adonsa."

It was this mentalist who had constructed the telepathic channel, allowing the group to speak freely and coordinate instantly.

Ava said in surprise: "Level 5? Isn't that the same level as the captain?"

Kant boasted grandly: "What’s there to fear about Level 5? How many fifth-energy-level beings have we killed? That Thousand-Eyed Tyrant from before, or that lunatic from the Fallen Hell—weren't they all cleanly chopped up by us?"

"The higher the level, the better. My blood is craving it," a concise, low voice sounded, cold enough to make one shiver, like a viper flicking its tongue. It came from a lean, dark-skinned man named Kazan, nicknamed Black Blood.

As soon as he spoke, the interest of those around him faded.

Only a female boxer with bandages wrapped around both hands continued to throw straight punches, the air whistling sharply with each strike. She had a very refined and elegant name: Ran Bingqing.

Nash, a steady middle-aged man, ended the noisy conversation: "Enough. Do you think fifth-energy-level beings are really modeling clay, to be molded however you like? If Adonsa attacks now, we who are unprepared will likely suffer heavy casualties. Still laughing? Fine, the captain is going over to negotiate. If we can avoid a fight, all the better. But if we must fight..."

A sharp light flashed in Nash's eyes: "...we must wait until we are fully prepared!"

This battle-hardened Prism Squad radiated a restrained, powerful confidence—the kind born naturally from having slaughtered countless strong opponents with their own hands.

Approaching the snowy-white figure, Provence spoke: "Hello, Adonsa. I am the mission leader for 'Prism,' and the supreme commander of the team. My name is Provence."

Adonsa looked up at him and said, "Spit it out if you have something to say."

Provence’s mouth twitched, but he maintained his composure and continued: "I propose that we cooperate."

Adonsa raised an eyebrow and said, "Sure, but you’ll have to take orders from me."

Provence smiled: "No, no. You probably haven’t found the thread for interpreting the Box Garden’s hints yet. The keywords this time are 'Human,' 'Demon,' and 'War.' Missions involving elements of war always have the highest returns, but they also require the most concentrated effort to fight. Individual martial prowess is rarely enough. Therefore, we must unite and cooperate to complete the mission successfully."

Adonsa sneered: "Oh, you want to command me?"

Provence weighed his words: "We are equals; there is no relationship of commander and commanded. But since this is cooperation, I hope you will try your best to coordinate with our actions. Rest assured, I can guarantee that I will treat you equally, and you will receive thirty percent of the mission's rewards for yourself."

Facing a Level 5 Apostle, Provence believed he had offered a very generous deal.

Adonsa smiled until the corners of his mouth split: "I’ve never understood what 'cooperation' means. I only know how to make others cooperate with me."

Provence’s expression darkened. He hated dealing with lunatics who were bursting with overconfidence; they had no grasp of the stakes and knew only how to act recklessly.

His desire to kill flared, but his tone remained calm: "What a pity. We have failed to reach a consensus. However, I still hope we can coexist peacefully and avoid any unpleasantness..."

Adonsa licked his lips and said: "Don't worry, no matter what, I’ll leave you with a breath of life. But don't stand in my way, or I can't guarantee that you’ll be in one piece when the time comes."

Provence suppressed his ignited fury: "Is that so? Let us wait and see."

With that, he turned and returned to his team without looking back. Everyone cast a sidelong glance at Adonsa, whether intentionally or not; even though the mental link was in an uproar, they did not reveal a hint of it on their faces.

Aside from Adonsa and the Prism squad, five or six other Apostles had appeared.

Three of them looked bewildered, as if they had no idea what was happening. The eerie environment around them brought them great anxiety.

These three were newcomers—fresh Apostles experiencing their first mission cycle.

Provence made a polite gesture toward the last three Apostles, but only one walked up to a newcomer to explain the rules of the Box Garden.

However, the newcomer only grew more terrified, for the Apostle who was politely explaining the mission was a giant rabbit!

It was not a rabbit-headed human, but an enlarged white rabbit. Standing upright, it was two meters tall, wearing a well-fitted gentleman's suit, a top hat, and leaning on a black cane, much like the frantic rabbit from Alice in Wonderland.

Although it was a rabbit, every movement was worthy of the title of gentleman, full of confidence and ease.

The other two newcomers had their fears dispelled by the rabbit's gentlemanly demeanor and drifted toward it involuntarily.

The rabbit said: "Oh, my dear Apostles, please do not be nervous. My name is Roger Somers, and as you can see, I am an upright gentleman."

As it spoke, it performed a standard bow with its non-human rabbit body. The posture after straightening up was neither quite standing nor quite squatting; its two sturdy hind legs remained neatly folded beneath it, steadily supporting its massive frame.

Adonsa found it interesting and walked over as well.

The rabbit saw Adonsa and pulled its cheeks into a smile, which actually carried a touch of the elegance and friendliness peculiar to a gentleman.