What came into view was a delicate, slightly youthful face, her large eyes filled with joy. His gaze shifted, seeming a bit confused, but in reality, he had already quietly observed her from head to toe.

　　This was the girl he had seen before falling unconscious, her hair braided into two thick, long plaits, the ends tied with colorful ribbons and adorned with a few animal teeth. Her skin was somewhat rough, and beneath the wheat-colored surface flowed a wildness and strength that was astonishing.

　　She wore light hunting attire—shorts and a short top made of animal hide—allowing for agile movement in the jungle. Two metal plates were attached to the chest of her top, apparently serving as makeshift armor.

　　At her waist hung two short knives, one long and one short; the shorter was no bigger than a dagger, the longer no more than half a meter. A belt was strapped to her right leg, holding several throwing knives.

　　At this point, Eleanor Clark could already sketch out a rough picture: the girl leaping through the jungle, relying on her innate strength and agility to hunt prey. Her tribe was quite primitive and backward, still dependent on cold weapons for combat, with little sign of large-scale industry.

　　But judging from the memory just before he lost consciousness, if it was indeed she who dragged him out of the collapsing ground at the critical moment, then her strength and speed were truly remarkable, on par with the Imperial Guard soldiers who had undergone rigorous selection.

　　Of course, compared to those who had trained in secret arts since childhood and used vast resources to strengthen their bodies and awaken their innate abilities—like the Dragon Rider Battalion or even members of the Imperial family—she was still far behind.

　　He slowly propped himself up, positioning himself for better leverage, then asked, “Was it you who saved me?”

　　The real purpose of his question was to distract the girl, so she wouldn’t notice that he was trying to get into an attack stance. As long as she was within a certain range, he was confident he could subdue or even kill her in a single strike.

　　Even though he was still extremely weak, as long as he could move, anything in his hands could become a deadly weapon.

　　Unexpectedly, upon hearing his words, the girl jumped up with joy and exclaimed, “You can speak our language! I told them you couldn’t possibly be a cannibal, but they didn’t believe me. Hmph, let’s see what they say now! By the way, your clothes are so strange—which sanctuary are you from? I’ve never seen clothes like that before. Alright, you just lie down, I’ll go get you something to eat.”

　　She spoke quickly and urgently, not giving him any chance to interrupt, then dashed out like the wind.

　　Just as she left, she poked her head back in, flashed a mischievous smile, and said, “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone you pretended to be unconscious.”

　　His heart jolted, and he almost sprang up to act. But there was still some distance between where he lay and the door, and the girl was clearly impulsive—she ran off as soon as she finished speaking, giving him no chance to make a move.

　　He steadied himself, slowly sat up, leaned against the wall, and took deep, slow breaths. All the bones in his body knocked against each other, generating special shockwaves to activate the deepest vitality in his muscles and organs.

　　If this group of people were just ordinary, uncivilized tribesfolk, that would be one thing. But how could an ordinary tribesperson possess such strength and agility, as well as the ability to see through his disguise?

　　This reminded him of a word buried in his memory for ten thousand years: the People of the Ruins.

　　In the Imperial era, the People of the Ruins were mysterious and powerful, possessing all sorts of incredible abilities. Even an ordinary member among them could overpower the Imperial Guard.

　　To discover the source of the People of the Ruins’ power, the Empire had invested massive manpower and resources over hundreds of years, even slowing its expansion for their sake.

　　And he, Eleanor Clark, as the Empire’s final trump card, was still dispatched to the distant, desolate star regions to track down clues about the People of the Ruins, even as war raged on the borders. The Empire’s emphasis on this matter was clear.

　　But what did the People of the Ruins actually look like, and what was the source of their power? For centuries, no one could say for sure, because a true member of the People of the Ruins had never been captured.

　　The Empire suspected that the power of the People of the Ruins also came from the Stone of Holy Radiance.

　　The superhuman strength of the Imperial Guard all originated from the Stone of Holy Radiance. That was the Empire’s top secret—even as a member of the Imperial family, he had only seen the Stone of Holy Radiance when he became the candidate captain of the Dragon Rider Battalion.

　　The Stone of Holy Radiance...

　　His memory involuntarily returned to the moment he first saw the Stone of Holy Radiance. It was an incomparably magnificent palace, and before him, two giant doors a hundred meters tall slowly opened.

　　Yet, at that moment in his memory, what appeared through the crack in the giant doors was not the Stone of Holy Radiance, but light—indescribable light!

　　The light in his memory seemed to pierce through ten thousand years of time, shining upon him. This light was like fire, burning every part of his body inside and out, even igniting his consciousness and soul.

　　The indescribable pain made even his iron will falter, and he couldn’t help but let out a groan, curling up into a ball and falling off the bed with a thud.

　　“What’s wrong?” The girl, who had just returned, cried out in alarm, hurriedly helped him up, and put him back on the bed, scolding him a little, “You just woke up and need to rest. Why are you moving around?”

　　The girl’s voice pulled his consciousness back from illusion to reality. It turned out that fiery light was just a hallucination.