Master Garcia detected a flicker of indecision in Dao Feng’s expression regarding the two ornaments and smiled faintly. “Do you feel it? The distinctiveness of these two items?”

Dao Feng held up the ring, examining it closely before setting it down and lifting the bracelet. The feeling emanating from both ornaments was remarkably clear—an undeniable presence that spoke directly to the spirit. Dao Feng was certain he could sense their existence even without sight or touch.

While the sensation was peculiar, it was not unfamiliar to Dao Feng. On the Floating Continent, various creations of the Progenitors carried a similar resonance, forming the basis for controlling their devices with psychic power. Compared to the intense presence of those Progenitor crystal towers, however, the two ornaments felt significantly subdued.

After a few moments of inspection, Dao Feng was convinced that Earth’s current technology could not fabricate such items. He placed the ornaments on the coffee table and addressed Master Garcia directly. “What are these?”

“Just some trinkets made by the Singarians,” Master Garcia replied with a casual air, as if the items were truly insignificant.

“The Singarians have studied psychic energy for over ten millennia, far surpassing humanity. In their world, these little things are as common as communicators or cameras. Don’t place too much importance on them.”

Master Garcia pointed to the ornaments. “You must have sensed it—they possess a ‘Presence.’ It’s akin to seeing with your eyes, touching with your hands, or smelling with your nose. Presence can be captured by the sixth sense, though those with duller intuition might miss it, just as a blind person cannot see.”

Dao Feng nodded. He was no stranger to the concept of Presence. Both the Progenitors’ knowledge system and the classics David pilfered from the Psionic Temple offered deep explanations of this phenomenon.

Seeing Dao Feng remain calm and unsurprised, Master Garcia felt no astonishment. After all, he had just dismissed them as mere trifles.

Master Garcia slipped the ring onto his left index finger. “These two ornaments differ only in outward appearance; their function is the same. They can project images imagined in your mind as holographic displays. Watch this.”

Master Garcia raised his left hand. A ruby flashed crimson, and a luminous screen sprang up. Then, the screen dissolved, and the surrounding environment shifted drastically.

The office space suddenly seemed to have been transported into the heart of a grand temple. Rows of pillars, each requiring the embrace of two men, stood perfectly aligned, supporting a ceiling five stories high.

The columns were etched with cryptic symbols. The ceiling and floor were entirely covered in murals, but the subject matter was not ancient mythology; it depicted battles involving figures wielding lightsabers.

Dao Feng found himself standing in a long corridor where dozens of individuals in monastic robes moved back and forth, chatting and laughing.

Seeing this spectacle for the first time, Dao Feng stood up in astonishment, his eyes wide as he surveyed his surroundings, trying to discern every detail.

His first observation was that every person in the corridor, male or female, wore the hilt of a lightsaber clipped to their waist. He then shifted his gaze outside the temple walls, realizing the structure was situated atop a small mountain.

It wasn’t exactly the peak; the temple was still several meters below the summit, where another, even more magnificent temple complex stood. Similar buildings stretched down the mountainside from the top. The spot where Dao Feng stood was the second highest elevation on the entire mountain.

At the foot of the mountain lay a coastline alternating between sheer cliffs, jagged reefs, and sandy beaches. Further out, the vast, endless azure sea stretched to the horizon.

The sunlight and white clouds overhead felt warm, yet dozens of kilometers out on the sea, a mass of dark clouds gathered. The ensuing storm and lightning beneath those clouds were rendered with terrifying realism, accompanied by the cries of gulls and the sound of waves crashing against the shore.

The scenery was breathtakingly beautiful. If not for the lack of the ocean breeze’s scent, Dao Feng would have sworn he had been genuinely transported to some nameless seaside peak.

“Where is this?” Dao Feng turned to Master Garcia. Although he had a suspicion, he still voiced the question.

“The Psionic Temple,” Master Garcia replied with a smile, standing up and gesturing around him. “This is the headquarters of the Psionic Temple, Mand Island in the Pacific.”

“I see.”

Dao Feng surveyed the area once more, etching the surroundings firmly into his memory. With his current Psionic strength, achieving this feat presented not the slightest difficulty.

The red light flashed again, enveloping the entire island and the distant ocean, then drew inward, absorbed by the ring on Master Garcia’s hand.

Dao Feng’s office immediately returned to its original appearance.

Master Garcia removed the ring, then pulled a data chip from his tunic, placing it next to the bracelet. “This is the manual; you can look it over. The Singarian data you requested is also on this chip. As for the two ornaments, you may choose one as a reward for eliminating the five high-level Ape-men. But since they are functionally identical, it makes no difference which you select.”

Dao Feng nodded, paused for about a second in contemplation, and chose the ring, reasoning that a bracelet would be more cumbersome during combat.

He had expected a memento from the Psionic Temple to be some kind of weapon, but obtaining this ring was satisfactory enough. There were, after all, many things more rewarding than fighting. To constantly think about battle is the mark of a maniac or a lunatic.

Dao Feng felt a slight sense of contradiction and hypocrisy dwelling on combat strategy even while choosing an item based on its utility in a fight. Yet, he could not help it; his battle was far from over, making this a truly unavoidable selection.

If the Terran Mercenary Corps had never been established, he might have had the chance to step away, live as a civilian with latent abilities, keeping the Floating Continent a secret, passing through the masses leading a peaceful life undisturbed.

However, as he became increasingly involved in the wars, he reached a point of no return.

Although technically he could recall all his forces to the Floating Continent at any moment, disappear, assume a new identity in a place where no one knew him, and begin a peaceful life again, he couldn't do it.

If he hadn't intervened, the civilians evacuated from the Jupiter colonies would have barely made it back. Pushing further back, if he hadn’t warned Randolph, the Ceres Base might have fallen. If he hadn't dispatched observers to monitor the Pirate Coalition Fleet, Helles might still be rampaging through the asteroid belt, unchecked.

With all those ‘what ifs,’ he understood clearly that his participation was vital for many people. He couldn't forget the expressions on the faces of those who died in the cities overrun by Helles and the Pirate Coalition Fleet, images he had seen on video feeds.

Continuing the fight could reduce the frequency of those expressions; therefore, he could not simply walk away.

Yang Ying was no saint. He had self-interest; he would never do anything that risked exposing the secret of the Floating Continent. But participating in the war effort to the extent of his ability, helping humanity fight the Ape-men, aligned with his own interests.

He was perpetually seeking a path where public duty and private benefit intersected, but it was proving difficult.

The path ahead was forged moment by moment, shrouded in thick fog. Even those with sharp vision who could see a few steps further than others could not discern the road’s final destination.

All he could do was move forward, one step at a time, keeping one hand guided by his conscience while the other groped along this uncertain path, striving to maintain firm footing.

Yang Ying slowly opened his eyes inside a luxuriously appointed transport aircraft. Katerina whispered beside him, “Sir, we’ve reached the base. Colonel Pol wants to see you; it seems to be about that particle cannon project.”

Yang Ying nodded, rose, and said, “Very well. Have him report to the command center immediately. Also, notify the staff department to formulate a plan for retaliation against the Caesar family. Roid ordered poison administered to Dao Feng—this debt must be repaid, and they must feel the sting.”

As he spoke, he led Katerina down the ramp of the transport aircraft onto the base grounds.

In the top-floor office of the Gray Port liaison building, Dao Feng picked up the ring and pushed the bracelet back toward Master Garcia. “Thank you for making the trip for such a minor matter, Master. I will take the ring as a souvenir; nothing could be more fitting.”

Both items were driven by psionic energy: the Singarian imaging device was so compact and lifelike, while the particle cannon manufactured by the Kustarians possessed immense offensive power. This contrast clearly illustrated the distinct styles of the two alien races.

Master Garcia chuckled heartily, accepting the bracelet. “It wasn’t just for this, of course. After reviewing the details of the Jupiter mission report, I felt compelled to see you.”

Dao Feng, now wearing the ring, looked up with curiosity.

Master Garcia stroked the beard on his chin. “I recall on the platform where you killed Gato, you possessed only the strength of a second-tier practitioner. I never imagined that in such a short time, you would ascend to the fourth tier. Your progress is truly astonishing. Can you tell me how you trained?”

Many people had been surprised by Dao Feng’s combat record, and Master Garcia was among the most astonished. He knew precisely what Dao Feng’s strength was before. To hear out of the blue that Dao Feng had dispatched five high-ranking Ape-men and come to claim a reward struck him as profoundly strange.

Dao Feng’s face assumed a troubled expression. What could he possibly say? Should he admit he had access to the Zerg—that his psychic strength increased proportionally to their population?

“Ah, well, that’s difficult to explain. Even if I told you, others couldn't replicate it.”

This was the closest thing to the truth Dao Feng could articulate. Rather than lying, it was better to admit this fact. Psionic Masters possessed keen spiritual senses; detecting falsehood was instinctive for them. Anyone below the Master level stood no chance of deceiving them.

Master Garcia saw Dao Feng’s expression and understood he was speaking truthfully. “Very well, then, forget I asked. I suppose if the method were simple, something similar would have surfaced on Earth centuries ago. Clearly, you are an isolated case.”

With that, he stood up, straightened his clothes. “I’m quite busy lately; I have other official duties. I won’t impose further.”