The mysterious disappearance of the lost city beneath the water baffled the captain, who had been traveling north and south for many years, and the sailors were quite uneasy about it in their whispers. Even though I used the magic power of "Hanging in the Sky", this seabed covered with fine sand still seemed to be eternal and dead, and the sand grains did not move at all - which meant that there was not even the slightest movement of water below, which was undoubtedly a very unusual thing.

Unfortunately, it is precisely because of this dead silence that I am unable to give a definite conjecture about the mysterious disappearance of the lost city, let alone deduce a self-justifying explanation based on evidence and reason. I can only vaguely guess that maybe this phenomenon has something to do with that strange dream, the result of some dark force that has transcended time, space and dimension leaking into the dream world.

After a brief pause in the sea, the sailboat set sail again, sailing across the vast ocean in the middle of this dream world, known as the Atrium, towards Selephait. The uneventful experience on the ship after that was not worth the effort, but after four days and three nights of sailing, we arrived at sunset in this legendary city.

The warm afterglow of the setting sun paints the snow-capped summit of Ajan Peak with a layer of gold, and on the wide slope in front of it, the yellowed ginkgo trees sway in the wind, and the fallen leaves fluttering in the dusk seem to be like golden spirits flying up and down the forest. As the ship approached the shore, I was greeted by the shining lighthouse towering over the sea, the immaculate marble walls and the majestic bronze sculptures on them, and the huge stone bridge that spanned the mouth of the Naraksa River.

When we finally tied up at the harbour, I stood on the deck and looked around, and saw that the dock was full of brightly coloured galleys, and the fragrance of spices poured into my mouth and nose with the sea breeze. The venerable captain stood side by side with me, pointing to the ships not far away, and spoke of their origins—some from the cloud city of Serranian, which is said to be located in the aetheric void beyond the confluence of the sea and the sky, and others, like him and his ship, from the more solid and tangible harbors of the many oceans of the dreamland.

Before nightfall, the captain and I said goodbye, passed past the busy sailors, and ascended from the dock to the solid ground. For reasons obvious to me, I did not immediately set out in search of temples or palaces, but walked along the coast, surveying the city curiously. With my keen insight, the onyx-paved pavement has not been worn or damaged in the slightest, and the elegant bricks and tiles of Seleface have stood tall in the torrent of time. As night fell, the lights began to flicker on the surface of the sea, and in the watery night, the two very different concepts of "new" and "old" blended in my senses in a wonderful way.

It was getting late, and I set out to find an old tavern by the sea, which I had been doing for quite some time, and had settled down there for a while. After that, I spent four relatively busy days due to club activities and the whims of one side, and it was not until November 13 that I returned to the dream and walked out of my room and onto the balcony high up.

Under the blue sky and bright sunny sun, the eye-catching giant bronze gate is as bright as new. On the other side, the gentle hills behind the city are lined with groves, large gardens with sunlit orchids, and small shrines and farmhouses. The purple ridges of the Tanalia Hills rise high in the distant background, looking both breathtaking and mysterious, and behind these hills are the forbidden paths that lead to the waking world and other dreams, highlighted by the Xuanyang Daoists in their notes.

I flipped through the map in my room, then walked out of the tavern in the warm sunlight and walked up the Emerald Temple along the Street of Pillars for a conversation with the high priests there. As an immortal resident of the immortal city of Selephait, this priest was undoubtedly the same person that the Xuanyang Dao people had dealt with back then. He listened to my questions kindly and patiently, but he said he knew very little about the disappearance of the Lost City.

"It is true that there are some very old texts and legends that record the city under the water, but none of them mention this strange phenomenon. Unfortunately, I'm not a casual traveler, but I think there will be scholars and adventurers who would like to head south to find out. ”

After learning a little about the texts and legends, I thanked the high priest with the orchid wreath on his head, and left the temple and headed for the Gothic manor to the east of the city, where King Kulanis, who was said to have ruled the area, a dreamer who also had a legendary experience. I walked through the bustling but noisy bazaar, and was pleasantly surprised to find that there were a number of free-roaming cats living just like Usa, basking in the sun on the onyx tiles, and then exiting the city gates to the east to the outskirts.

On a sunny morning, I could see the daisy-covered fields of early spring (I suddenly regretted that I hadn't looked up the dreaming calendar in the temple of Usa), and the spired gables perched on the cliffs by the sea in the distance were the targets I was looking for. With the help of the Wind Resistance, I walked with the leisurely form of a leisurely walk and the speed that did not match it, and soon I came to a small brick house with a huge fence next to it.

When I rang the door, it was not a court attendant in a long robe with impeccable manners, but a thin old man in a smock and a short beard. He looked me up and down with a vaguely haughty look, and when I asked to see the Mr. Curanis, he seemed a little displeased, but answered me in full sentences:

"It's a shame that Your Majesty has been ruling in Cloudsdale during this time. I beg your pardon that I can't—and have no right to receive you at this manor, young sir. ”

Undoubtedly, I was not welcomed like the clergy, and the implication was to get me to leave. So I politely said goodbye to him and set out on the way back. Out of some mischievous mentality, I deliberately flew into the wind, expecting the haughty and conceited porter's eyes to widen in surprise when he glanced back.

In any case, the way I flew against the wind allowed me to experience a different scenery on the same part of the journey. On the nearby coast, there is a small old-fashioned fishing village with steep cobblestone paths, while a Norman monastery (again thanks to Civilization 5) is erected in a nearby valley. It's beautiful.

But the joy did not last long. When I went to the docks and tried to ask the captains and sailors if any of them could sail to the floating city of Serranian, I was struck in the head - the strange people who came from the land where the sea and the sky met never stayed with them, and they did not know where they lived.

"But, little boy, if you really want a captain from Serranian, I think Arteb is the most likely one. "But he went to sea the day before yesterday, and no one knows when he will come back." ”