And the situation of the gods during the Golden Era.

What was brought from the ruins of the Broken Island gives a glimpse into the rich atmosphere of research throughout Vastva City.

Especially concerning the field of space and the various expanded studies it brings.

Things which can't be reached in many external circumstances.

Although data suggests it might be due to the Vastva people's talents and living conditions, the results of the research are still achievements.

This will greatly help Alka and the others.

"Though some records are missing due to various reasons, most still exist. For instance, we know of the outside world.

We know we are living in a world comparable to a pocket dimension.

We exist in a world created by the Divine Artifact. But because the Artifact was lost outside due to a war many millennia ago, we are locked inside."

Waku rambled on, even though he didn't elaborate on the history. A brief introduction made Alka nod reassuringly.

This shows that the knowledge left by the Vastva city-state has been largely preserved.

Unfortunately, a significant portion can no longer be realized, at least for the Vastva people of today.

Magic Power here is exceedingly scarce.

"What's your current situation?" Simon asked beside them.

"Surviving, though it's difficult to gather much Magic Power, we need to be cautious in using it.

At least we don't starve, we can still survive."

The two sides exchanged thoughts simply, waiting for Kavala to arrive with the elders.

Both Waku and Alka understood that this was not something that would happen quickly, surely they'd discuss at length before coming out.

Through conversing with Waku, Alka also roughly grasped the specific circumstances of the remaining area of the Vastva city-state.

Their population now might be less than twenty to thirty thousand, already pitifully low.

And their sustenance relies entirely on Magic Power, supplemented by a nutrient solution formed from scarce plants cultivated in the remaining land.

Quite unimaginable.

The Magic Power collected by them is mostly consumed as food and essential bodily moisture.

Many years ago, the dwindling resources nearly led to internal strife.

Fortunately, the inherent nature of the Vastva race holds a disdain for war, favoring research and exploration.

Even in such circumstances, they persist in exploring ways to go out; evidently, such exploration has been futile.

Their only support is the records passed down from a millennium ago, stating that under some fateful guidance someone will obtain the key to open the gateway to their world, allowing them to survive.

They just have to live until then.

Alka agrees with this sentiment, indeed that's true.

The one who wrote those words clearly knew how hard it is.

Since according to Alka's knowledge, except for the Winter Flower, which was pushed out due to its position as a gap, the other three treasures were all kept inside.

How slim the hope is.

Moreover, if Alka hadn't acquired this treasure, even if someone else had, it might not necessarily have opened the way.

Knowing that due to the world's fragmentations, the world they survived in had long been propelled outwardly, already quite distant.

Without Alka, it might not have been possible to pull them back.

They can only count themselves lucky.

However, their luck hardly seems sufficient, seeing as it took over thirty thousand years for the entire race to teeter on the brink of extinction, only to finally see the day of opening.

During everyone's exchange, a commotion came from afar, and Alka looked on.

He saw many strange yet distinctly characteristic mechanical constructs approaching.

Leading them was Kavala, who had gone in to notify them earlier.

Alka and his companions stood, waiting.

He wondered what kind of attitude these people would show, hoping they wouldn't foolishly resort to force.

That would be utterly senseless.

But what he anticipated didn't happen.

Behind Kavala, a strange mechanical device, roughly 4 meters tall, opened.

An elder, clad in a slightly tattered attire, hunched, supported by a cane.

Scrambling forward in a manner almost to be described as agitated.

Those beside him constantly supporting, fearing he might fall.

He appeared truly old.

This elder approached Alka, observing him, taking in Alka's appearance.

Alka also scrutinized the elder before him, ears pointed and drooping similarly.

Yet his skin, now grayish-white, started showing spots of differing colors.

His slightly thin figure, hunched, supported by a cane, looking crumpled.

He leaned on his cane, his eyes slightly larger than a typical human, appearing cloudy but with a hint of hopeful glimmer.

Undoubtedly knowing more than Kavala and Waku.

"Finally here, finally here," he murmured, his voice slightly hoarse.

Then he seemed to regain control of his emotions, looking at Alka, asking with a trembling tone: "You, you really came in from outside? From the outside world."

Alka nodded, "That's right, we have seen the remnants left outside, know some of your history."

"Good, good, good," the elder's voice couldn't hide his excitement any longer.

Tears of excitement slid from his eyes, but he didn't care, merely excitedly clutching his cane, the tremor visible.

"Ahasteva Elder, calm down," said the middle-aged man beside him, soothing his back.

"It's wonderful, wonderful. Do you know, we have hope for survival now, we can survive, everyone can survive."

He said excitedly, placing his hand onto the middle-aged man's hand by his side.

"But it's a pity, many can't witness this. Waiting for such a long time."

Besides him, many who came along showed signs of excitement.

Alka and the others didn't disturb, just standing patiently, waiting for them to calm down.