“Hehehe… Korg, my old friend? A rare visitor indeed! By my count, it’s been millennia since I last heard your voice. Finally deigning to reach out?” The will emitted waves of laughter, carrying the ease of one long accustomed to supremacy.

Korg suppressed the ache from the Thousand Soul Gold Crystal’s rapid consumption, striving to keep its mental fluctuations steady: “Lightchaser, it’s not that I avoid contact—the price of trading with you… is simply too steep. My modest reserves can’t withstand much of that.”

“Hahaha!” The Lightchaser’s will roared with laughter. “Cost and reward are always proportional, my friend! You’re just too cautious!”

“Take my advice: in this endless void, opportunities come hand-in-hand with risks. Venture out more, adventure boldly! With me here, whatever information you need, I can procure it—enough to evade most dangers and maximize your gains!”

“No thanks. In the endless void, I believe caution reigns supreme…”

“Oh, come now, don’t be afraid—with me around!”

Korg sneered inwardly.

Easy for it to say. If he truly followed its words, frequently relying on external intelligence for adventures, most of his hard-accumulated resources would flow straight into this fellow’s pockets.

Wouldn’t that make him a puppet laboring solely for its benefit, bearing all the risks?

Korg had become a world lord not by being the sort of fool who depended on others.

Such were his thoughts, yet on the surface, Korg betrayed no emotion, merely falling silent.

Seeing no reaction from Korg, the Lightchaser found it somewhat dull and cut to the chase: “Fine, to business. What information do you seek at such cost this time?”

Korg replied at once: “I need detailed intelligence on a world—an unknown civilization that suddenly appeared near my domain… What price must I pay?”

“Detailed intelligence on a world?” The Lightchaser’s will seemed to ponder. “That depends on the world. Though our world records many powerful realms and ancient civilizations, the void is infinite—there are limits to our reach.”

“If it’s some insignificant speck, we may not have taken notice. Give me the name of the world or civilization you wish to query, and I can assess its value and quote a price.”

It paused, adding: “When providing the name, best use their ‘self-proclaimed’ designation—this improves retrieval accuracy and avoids confusion.”

Korg gazed at the golden crystal in the array’s center, shrinking visibly, its luster fading. Its entire body nearly convulsed with heartache.

It dared delay no longer, swiftly transmitting the compiled data: “They call themselves—’wizards’.”

It packaged and sent frontline recordings: blurred images, energy spectrum signatures, and the few deciphered language fragments.

“Wizards?”

The Lightchaser’s will received the data, falling silent as if searching a vast database, then responded with a trace of uncertainty:

“This name… matches no known records of powerful civilizations. It sounds like a newly risen world or some reclusive native civilization’s self-given title. Our archives have no direct entries.”

“This…” Korg’s tone hardened, clearly dissatisfied with the result.

“However…” The Lightchaser shifted tone. “Since you’ve paid with a ‘Thousand Soul Gold Crystal’ to open communication, service is due. I can invoke privileges for a targeted prophecy and information gathering, but it requires time. Wait a while—I’ll contact you with results and the final price then.”

Before Korg could inquire further, the grand descending will receded like a tide.

The chamber’s suffocating pressure vanished abruptly, the array’s glow dimming rapidly.

Crack…

A faint fracturing sound rang out.

At the array’s center, the once-brilliant golden crystal had lost all radiance, its surface crisscrossed with cracks.

It finally crumbled into a small pile of dull, lightless gray powder—like ashes burned to exhaustion.

Korg stared at the powder, its massive body swaying weakly.

The condensation of billions upon billions of high-tier souls… gone, just like that!

In exchange, merely a promise to “await notification.”

“Think positively—even that Lightchaser fellow has no specifics, meaning this wizard civilization isn’t renowned. It must be a weak one…”

Though it consoled itself thus, Korg still ached.

“Hopefully… your intelligence proves worth this price.” It hissed lowly, voice thick with heartache and a thread of unease, as it slowly withdrew from the chamber.

…

…

At the other end of the endless void, in a mysterious realm shrouded in eternal radiance.

An existence formed of pure energy and orderly light—the “Lightchaser”—withdrew its projected will.

It “gazed” at the Thousand Soul Gold Crystal remnant hovering before it, depleted by half yet still priceless, ripples of delight undulating across its luminous surface.

“Such a lavish bumpkin… Just a chat, a bit of delay, and I pocket this much ‘deposit.’ Small places have their charms.” It mused contentedly.

After all, greater worlds would easily spot its skimming.

“Now, how long before replying to that slime blob?”

It calculated precisely: “Too quick, and the info seems cheap—hard to demand high later… Too slow, and though it whets appetite, it might tarnish my reputation for swift response… Hmm, need just the right timing.”

Balancing maximum profit, it almost instinctively activated its race’s innate talent.

Using the name “wizards” and the provided images and energy signatures, its perception extended like invisible tendrils, quietly probing the nebulous information currents tied to them in the ether.

Seeking to glimpse clues first, bolstering leverage for the subsequent “quote.”

Yet, the instant its perception brushed the edge of a vague concept…

A calm, indifferent message—seemingly bearing the weight of the entire void—branded itself without warning directly into the core of its mind:

“Oh? Interesting. Daring to probe us actively? Let me see…”

At those words, the Lightchaser’s radiance froze solid.