An iron cart drawn by a Land Dragon entered the City of Lights.

Outside the cart, the streets were alive with noise, a chaotic blend of voices and movement. An unpleasant odor filled the air, a mix of waste from Snake People and the animals that shared the city.

By the roadside, many creatures much smaller than Land Dragons, called Sail Beasts, rested in corners after unloading their carts. These beasts, though slow, possessed great strength, leading merchant caravans to prefer using them over Land Dragons.

His Lamp of Covenant taken away, Old Tut sat quietly inside the cart, looking somewhat weary.

Land Dragons were undeniably swift, but their speed came at the cost of stability, unlike the steady gait of Sail Beasts.

The ride was rough and uneven, each jolt shaking the cart.

Old Tut shifted subtly in his seat, his movements deliberate, masking one action with another.

Clang!

The cart lurched unexpectedly, crashing into another nearby cart.

Shouts and confusion erupted outside as people scrambled to make sense of the commotion.

The Lantern Bearers acted swiftly, restoring order and steadying the iron cart before peering inside to check on Old Tut.

Despite the recent rolling and tumbling commotion, Old Tut appeared quite comfortable, leaning in a corner.

However, the leader of the Lantern Bearer squad immediately saw through Old Tut’s intentions. “What did you drop?” he asked.

“Don’t try any tricks,” the leader continued. “You can’t escape our eyes. Our attitude toward you has been good enough, so do not make things difficult for us.”

Old Tut remained silent, his expression unreadable, while the Lantern Bearer squad leader, undeterred, began searching on his own.

Before long, someone noticed a crumpled piece of paper lying nearby. It was a letter, old and worn, as if it had been prepared long ago.

The Lantern Bearer leader did not open it. He was very cautious. His responsibility was to bring Old Tut back, and he would not do anything outside his duties, nor look at anything he was not meant to see.

“Is this letter very important?” he asked Old Tut.

“Why did you not destroy it? Or are you trying to lure someone with it?”

The Lantern Bearer squad leader looked at Old Tut’s expression, as if trying to read something from it.

Old Tut remained silent, his eyes closed, appearing as though he were lost in a quiet slumber.

The Lantern Bearer squad leader sniffed the letter, activating a special divine technique. He felt no marks but sensed another power.

“A Rainbow Tree letter?”

The Lantern Bearer glanced at Old Tut and carefully put the letter away.

“Whatever you are thinking, it is useless,” he told Old Tut.

“I will be keeping a close watch on you.”

With the commotion behind them fading into the distance, the group pressed onward, venturing deeper into the heart of the City of Lights.

However, Old Tut’s subtle movements earlier were not just a distraction. They were a deliberate act to hide something else entirely.

Unbeknownst to the Lantern Bearers, Old Tut had left behind two items. One was found.

The other item lay hidden in a beast pen, tucked beneath a resting creature, unnoticed by anyone passing by.

It was his alchemical handbook.

He had not chosen to leave these items behind earlier, as leaving them elsewhere beforehand would have rendered them meaningless. Only by reaching the destination these people were taking him to would the coordinates he left behind have significance.

Old Tut was brought into a building, where the person who had ordered his capture was waiting.

However, from the moment he entered the City of Lights, he had a strong sense of who was looking for him.

Old Tut looked at the aged Snake Person before him, cloaked and covered from head to toe, yet unable to conceal his hunched and decrepit form.

He addressed the figure before him with a steady voice. “Xin Jisi,” Old Tut said. “City Lord of the City of Lights, and Grand Elder of the Alchemical Council.”

Indeed, it was Xin Jisi, the Grand Elder of the Land of Sunrise, an older figure Tut had crossed paths with long ago at the Exile White Tower. Xin Jisi stood before him.

Xin Jisi was not surprised that the other could guess his identity.

He slowly twisted his snake tail forward and removed the hood from his head.

“It has been a long time, Tut of the Tower Spirit School,” Xin Jisi said.

“Though, truth be told,” he added, his gaze fixed firmly on him as he stepped closer, “I caught sight of you decades ago.”

Xin Jisi looked at Tut’s face, aged and worn by time, so like his own.

It was as if he were seeing not just Tut, but himself as well.

“In the blink of an eye, people grow old,” Xin Jisi said, a wistful note in his voice.

Xin Jisi turned around and began speaking about the Tower Spirit School.

At that time, Xin Jisi was not yet Grand Elder, just a young member of the Golden Family.

But at that time, the Tower Spirit School had already reached its peak.

Xin Jisi could still recall that powerful Third-Rank evil spirit, an entity surpassing ordinary imagination. Its mental power exceeded his current power by nearly ten times. That was strength born from talent.

However, that talent was not only the Third-Rank evil spirit’s own, but the combined talents of many people.

There was another, a summoner of Divine Grace Puppets, who unleashed overwhelming Mental Domains and wielded magic gold with mastery, reigning like a mortal deity.

Even now, the recollection was still shocking.

“I witnessed the powerful secrets of the Tower Spirit School then, and I also witnessed the power of that genius named Oran.”

“The Tower Spirit School’s secret techniques were designed to inherit the talents of predecessors and harness the abilities of others, enabling the creation of many extraordinary figures.”

“That puppet named Oran also became a Fourth-Rank apostle because of this.”

When he spoke of the puppet Oran and mentioned Oran releasing Mental Domains to control scenes, his gaze revealed excitement mixed with longing.

Old Tut asked, “So, what is the point of all this?”

“Do you just want to look at an old fellow from the former Tower Spirit School?”

Xin Jisi looked at Old Tut. “I want the Tower Spirit School’s secret techniques,” he said, revealing his reason for capturing him.

“What secret techniques?” Old Tut asked.

“The Fire Passing Divine Technique,” Xin Jisi replied.

Old Tut observed Xin Jisi’s expression as he spoke of the puppet Oran. The subtle shift in his demeanor caught Tut’s attention, prompting the old man to rub his face thoughtfully before addressing Xin Jisi with a serious tone.

“You want to become a madman,” Old Tut said, his voice steady yet cutting.

“Or perhaps,” he added, spreading his hands with a faint smile, “a puppet?”

But Xin Jisi said, “Oran didn’t go mad. I saw it with my own eyes.”

“If one can become an apostle, what does it matter to change bodies?”

“That is an existence closest to divinity, an apostle who transcends mortal limits, a life with a thousand years of longevity.”

“If changing bodies can free one from mortal fate, what’s wrong with that?”

Old Tut gazed into Xin Jisi’s eyes and recognized the madness within them, the unrelenting desire that bordered on greed.

Looking at those eyes, Old Tut suddenly thought of his teacher.

It was not the same madness and desire.

But even someone like his teacher could not ultimately suppress the desire in his heart, leading to such terrible disaster and causing the entire Tower Spirit School’s destruction.

If the Fire Passing Divine Technique fell into the hands of someone like the person before him, what would become of it?

Old Tut’s attitude changed immediately. His usually kind expression also became serious.

“I know what you are thinking,” Old Tut stated. “You want to plunder others’ talents to break through your own power and become an apostle.”

“I know even more what you will do.”

“But you will not get it.”

Xin Jisi’s smile disappeared, and the atmosphere became heavy.

“Do you know what consequences await those who refuse someone who holds power over their life and death?” Xin Jisi asked, his voice cold.

Old Tut often carried himself as a kind and scholarly elder, exuding an air of refinement.

Yet, when the moment demanded it, his unwavering determination and resolve surpassed all expectations.

“Is this what the Grand Elder of the Alchemical Council is like?” Old Tut asked sharply.

“You carry the legacy of Xin Ji, a name recognized by the gods, destined to shine as a guiding light in the Miracle Garden.”

“Xin Ji once led the Land of Sunrise out of its barbaric past, building the prosperity of today and becoming a beacon for all in the Kingdom of God.”

“When people die, they should return to the Dream Starry Sea.”

“When alchemists die, they should return to the Miracle Garden.”

Xin Jisi retorted, “That is for ordinary people.”

“If I can become God’s apostle, I can do better.”

Xin Jisi moved forward a few meters, looking toward the door outside, “Look at how prosperous the Land of Sunrise is under my leadership. These are all my achievements. I am God’s most excellent believer.”

“I am not like the others. I carry the blood of Xin Ji, the Golden Family flows through my veins. I am meant for greater things.”

“The only problem is that my talent is a bit lacking.”

“God has already begun selecting His apostles. If my talent were stronger, I would definitely be able to become God’s apostle.”

“Perhaps that is just your fate,” Old Tut replied quietly.

Xin Jisi turned his head, visibly angered by Old Tut’s words. “What is fate?”

“Only what God arranges is fate. Do you, a mere mortal, understand what fate is?”

“Then why,” Old Tut replied, “did the God of Alchemy and Desire not choose you?”

A single sentence from Old Tut struck like a spark, igniting Xin Jisi’s fury and driving him to storm directly toward the old man.

The old Snake Person, now almost face to face with Tut, said through gritted teeth, “God will choose me.”

Old Tut looked at Xin Jisi, his eyes showing mockery, which then turned to pity.

This high and mighty Grand Elder could only deceive himself when facing his own faith.

“Those who blindly pursue power will ultimately suffer evil consequences.”

“Those who use the Fire Passing Technique will ultimately be consumed by flames.”

“Even if you obtained the Fire Passing Technique, you couldn’t get what you want. It’s useless.”

“Grand Elder Xin Jisi!” Old Tut’s voice rang out, firm and resolute. “Let it go!”

Xin Jisi could not stand Old Tut’s words. He hated hearing anyone suggest he might fail.

He was the Grand Elder, the highest ruler of the Land of Sunrise, the patriarch of the Golden Family.

His voice, initially calm, began to waver with emotion, growing more intense with each passing word.

It all started when Old Tut questioned why the God of Alchemy had not chosen him.

“That was them.”

“But I am not like them. I am a descendant of the Golden Family. Their blood flows through my veins.”

“My ancestor Xin Ji was the first believer of the God of Alchemy and Desire.”

Old Tut’s voice was steady, yet carried a sharp edge, “Everyone believes they’re destined for greatness.”

“But you…”

He paused, his gaze unwavering, “You’re certainly not the one.”

“Look at your eyes. Madness, greed, blindness.”

“After you get the Fire Passing Divine Technique, you are destined to fall into madness.”

Old Tut had seen his teacher’s descent into chaos firsthand. He understood all too well that once madness took root in the heart, it was impossible to resist. The only exception he had ever known was Oran, who wielded Elena’s Heart. Even now, Old Tut could not fathom why Oran had been spared from the madness.

“You will fail,” Old Tut said firmly, his voice steady despite the tension in the air.

“And when you do, you will become a mad spirit, unleashing chaos that will ripple outward. The City of Lights itself could face ruin, consumed by the disaster you create.”

“I have a plan,” Xin Jisi said, “and I will make it work.”

“Just give it to me, and you’ll live. I can give you anything you desire.”

“Don’t you want to rebuild the Tower Spirit School?”

“I can even help you and Oran restore your positions as elders of the City of Gold, restoring the former glory of the Tower Spirit School.”

Old Tut shook his head, his voice steady and resolute.

“No, Xin Jisi.”

“Not for you, not for anyone else. I cannot give it away.”

Xin Jisi felt a surge of anger ignite deep within him, an uncontrollable fire that consumed his thoughts. Perhaps it was the weight of his frustration, or perhaps it was Old Tut’s relentless refusal that pushed him past his breaking point.

Xin Jisi’s frustration boiled over, his anger erupting in a raw, unrestrained roar. He could no longer contain the fury that surged within him, fueled by the denial of divine favor and the rejection of everything he believed defined him.

“After I die, let the floods rage!”

His voice was sharp, his words cutting through the air as he raised his staff high.

“Let the people perish if they must!”

“Let the City of Lights fall into ruin!”

“Let disaster consume everything!”

“I carry the Golden bloodline. I deserve what is mine. All of this should have been mine from the start.”

“If God won’t grant it to me, then I’ll seize it myself!”

After the words left his mouth, Xin Jisi froze.

For a moment, he could not tell if they were born of rage or if they reflected the deepest truth buried within his heart.

Old Tut was also instantly stunned. He now completely saw the true face of the person before him.

Some people can deceive others, can even deceive themselves, but they alone cannot deceive the desires in their hearts.

Old Tut fixed his gaze on Xin Jisi, his expression steady yet filled with quiet disappointment.

After a moment, he shook his head and spoke softly.

“I suddenly understand why the God of Alchemy and Desire didn’t choose you.”

“All your high-sounding words are only for yourself.”

“You have no faith in God in your heart, no alchemist’s conviction, and no compassion for the people.”

Xin Jisi’s patience had worn thin. His voice carried a sharp edge as he spoke. “I cannot stand people like you. You are given a choice, yet you refuse to make it.”

He paused, his tone growing colder. “But no matter. If you won’t hand it over willingly, I will take it from your mind.”

“This was not the path I intended to take, but you have left me no other option.”

An ordinary Snake Person Ability User came up carrying a Lamp of Covenant. It was precisely Old Tut’s Lamp of Covenant, the source of an alchemist’s power.

The Lamp of Covenant lay dormant, its light sealed away.

Old Tut found himself cornered, trapped in a dire predicament.

If he compromised, he would live. If he refused, the other would use divine techniques to search his memory and seize the information in his mind.

Even if he survived, the outcome would be far worse than death, a torment that transcended mere mortality.

As Xin Jisi reached for the Lamp of Covenant, his fingers nearly brushing its surface, Old Tut sprang into action.

With a sudden burst of movement, he lunged forward, desperate to reclaim his Lamp of Covenant.

Thud!

Xin Jisi raised his staff, unleashing a surge of energy that struck Tut with tremendous force, sending him sprawling across the floor.

Tut’s body skidded to a halt against the wall, where he lay motionless for a moment, clearly shaken and struggling to rise.

Xin Jisi looked down at Tut with a superior gaze. “I am an Upper Alchemist. A Third-Rank Ability User.”

Tut stirred, his movements slow and deliberate as he propped himself against the wall.

His gaze shifted to the Lamp of Covenant, where subtle yet remarkable transformations began to unfold within its flickering light.

In the instant Old Tut had approached, he had already used the connection between himself and the Lamp of Covenant to cast a special divine technique from the Tower Spirit School.

Adapted from the Fire Passing Divine Technique, yet serving an entirely different purpose.

“You wanted the Tower Spirit School’s Fire Passing Technique?”

“Let me show you something else.”

“The Tower Spirit School does not merely pass fire. It consumes it.”

As his words echoed through the room, the lamp fire within the Lamp of Covenant surged violently. In a sudden burst of energy, it shattered the Lamp of Covenant, breaking free from its confines.

The fire surged toward Old Tut.

Old Tut rose to his feet and, without hesitation, consumed the lamp fire.

The flames roared to life.

In that moment, Tut transformed into a Lamp Spirit, becoming a unique and formidable flame spirit entity.

Lamp Spirits were entities typically formed by Third-Rank Ability Users or alchemists who, upon death, were blessed by divinity to ascend to the Miracle Garden and transform into Lamp Spirits.

Yet, in this fleeting moment, Old Tut took on the semblance of a Lamp Spirit.

Though his form lacked the strength and permanence of a true Lamp Spirit, it burned with purpose and resolve.

The flames erupted violently, consuming the interior in a roaring inferno that surged through the corridors and passages like a living force.

Amid the chaos, a fiery figure resembling a Snake Person emerged from the blaze, its form twisting and writhing as it lunged toward Xin Jisi with relentless fury.

Several First-Rank Lantern Bearers guarding the entrance were immediately consumed by the lamp fire, and the entire interior became a sea of flames.

Even Xin Jisi was caught off guard by this move.

Breaking the lamp fire free from the Lamp of Covenant or swallowing it directly were acts of sheer desperation, akin to embracing one’s own destruction.

This act was akin to setting oneself ablaze, consuming not just the body but the very essence of one’s spirit, until nothing remained but ashes.

It meant that after death, nothing would remain, unable to follow the Laws of Creation to enter the Dream Starry Sea or return to the divine realm.

In this world, for ordinary people, death was not the worst fate. This was the true horror.

The fire snake coiled upward, wrapping around Xin Jisi’s body.

Xin Jisi immediately summoned his own Lamp Spirit. He used it to protect himself while beginning to suppress his opponent and control the great fire that was continuously escaping.

“Don’t you want to enter God’s realm after death?” Xin Jisi yelled over the roar of the flames.

The flames engulfing “Lamp Spirit” Tut burned brighter with each passing moment. His voice, carrying a calm resolve, replied, “It does not matter. Any place can be a resting place for eternity.”

“I cannot allow someone like you to inherit the Tower Spirit School’s legacy.”

“Our ideals, our divine techniques, our legacy.”

“They must not be tarnished by someone like you.”

Xin Jisi staggered back, his face a mix of shock and fury as the Lamp Spirit’s flames erupted around him. He clenched his fists, his voice trembling with anger.

“Madmen,” he muttered under his breath, his gaze fixed on the remnants of the fiery chaos.

“The Tower Spirit School… they are all madmen.”

The Fire Devouring Divine Technique was not meant to be used this way. This was originally a divine technique that only Third-Rank Ability Users could use, but Tut was forcibly using it now.

Years ago, Oran had sacrificed greatly to ensure the disaster within the Tower Spirit School remained contained.

He was determined to prevent another calamity from arising due to his choices, no matter the cost.

The battle between the true and false Lamp Spirits raged on, their fiery clash reducing the building to ruins before finally subsiding.

It was an inevitable conclusion. A Second-Rank Ability User could never hope to rival a Third-Rank. The disparity in power between ranks was insurmountable, a gulf too vast to bridge.

As the fight drew to a close, the flames of “Lamp Spirit” Tut began to wane, flickering like a dying ember running out of fuel.

“Die, you madman!” Xin Jisi roared, his staff crashing down with force as his Lamp Spirit surged forward, scattering the fiery remnants of the opposing “Lamp Spirit.”

Tut, now reduced to a spirit entity after losing his physical form, erupted into a cascade of sparks. His presence dwindled, leaving behind only a faint, flickering phantom.

The phantom lingered for a moment, its gaze fixed on the distance, as though searching for someone far away.

“Oran…” the whisper escaped softly, carrying a sense of longing and finality.

And then, slowly, the phantom dissolved into nothingness, fading away into the void.

On the other side, Xin Jisi was also in a sorry state. He had not anticipated the first wave of flame impact at all. Large patches of his robes were burned through, and his hands also bore burn marks.

He put away his Lamp Spirit and slowly walked out from the ruins of the great fire. Only then did the firefighting people outside dare to enter.

Everything looked like just an ordinary fire.

Xin Jisi grew angrier the more he thought about it. In the end, not only had he gained nothing, but he had also made himself thoroughly disheveled.

He originally had not planned to kill anyone. He had merely wanted to pay some price to obtain the Tower Spirit School’s Fire Passing Divine Technique.

Why?

Why wouldn’t he agree?

I only wanted the Fire Passing Divine Technique, not for him to use it himself. Why did he have to interfere so much?

What did it matter how many people died? None of it concerned him.

As he stepped outside, Xin Jisi climbed into the waiting carriage.

The Lantern Bearer squad leader approached, holding the crumpled letter retrieved from Old Tut.

“Lord Xin Jisi,” he said, extending the letter. “This is the letter Tut tried to discard earlier. I thought it might be important, so I kept it.”

Xin Jisi took it, though he originally paid it no attention.

A letter often holds significance, even if it does not contain the secrets of the Fire Passing Technique. Tut would not have risked writing such sensitive information on it.

The letter consisted of two folded sheets of paper. One was Oran’s message to Tut, and the other was Tut’s reply.

Tut had intended to send it, but he was intercepted before he could.

Among the contents of Oran’s letter to Tut were references to the Scarlet Goddess and the arrival of the messenger of the God of Knowledge and Truth.

It also spoke of divine oracles issued by the Creator. However, Oran refrained from writing the Creator’s name directly, much like Xiuborn had done before, opting instead to use the title “the true Creator.”

“The true Creator has issued divine oracles, opening the door to higher realms for the gods.”

“The Mortal Divine System is about to be established. The gods need new followers, myths belonging to them.”

“Tut, perhaps you could try harder. Maybe you could become a deity in the future?”

Within the letter, Oran shared his thoughts with Old Tut, urging him to strive for more.

He reminded Tut of his remarkable talent, a gift that had once earned him a place as a student under the Tower Spirit School’s leader, alongside Oran himself.

Oran’s words carried a sense of hope and encouragement, as he wished for Tut to find purpose and not simply fade away with time.

Tut’s reply was filled with heartfelt nostalgia, reflecting on the past and addressing Oran’s words with sincerity and warmth.

“I have found what I want to do. I think it is more important than power, even more meaningful than becoming a deity.”

“I took several students. They all have ideas and talent.”

“I will pass my thoughts, my alchemy, my will to them.”

The final sentence carried a sense of quiet resolve.

“Oran,” Tut had written with heartfelt sincerity, “life is not measured by its length, but by its meaning.”

At this moment, Xin Jisi’s focus was entirely consumed by Oran’s letter.

He paid no attention to anything else, his thoughts fixated on the Creator, the gods, the Mortal Divine System, and the emergence of new deities.

The letter did not contain the secrets of the Tower Spirit School. Instead, it held something even more astonishing, which was revelations about deities and the Creator.

Xin Jisi felt his mouth and tongue go dry. No matter how much he swallowed, he could not stop his throat from becoming parched.

His gaze was fixed, staring at this crumpled, wrinkled letter.

“God?”

“Become a god?”

“Become a god!”

The words repeated, first in disbelief, then with trembling certainty.

The letter, sent by the puppet Oran, concerned divine messengers, the Scarlet Goddess, and another deity. It looked authentic and reasonable.

Xin Jisi could feel it. This was real. It had to be real.

It was a short letter, but Xin Jisi read it back and forth dozens of times.

He did not put it down completely until he could recite every word on it.

By this time, Xin Jisi’s spirit had already drifted away in a trance.

He suddenly understood why the God of Alchemy and Desire would suddenly grant divine grace techniques, why new apostles were chosen.

“This is not about granting divine grace techniques or selecting apostles.”

“It is about guiding the path to myth.”

“Those who are chosen will ascend as new gods.”

Before, his desire to become an apostle was driven by a longing for immortality, still holding onto fragments of his faith.

Even if he was not chosen, his heart carried only a sense of unwillingness.

Now, the words written on the letter completely broke Grand Elder Xin Jisi.

Something deep within his heart shattered into pieces, leaving behind an emptiness that could not be filled.

From the darkest depths of his soul, something began to stir, rising and echoing until it reached his heart.

In the carriage, the Grand Elder sat quietly in meditation, his gaze deep and seemingly calm.

But his hands gripped the letter tightly, his fingernails digging into flesh without awareness.

Miracle Temple.

Grand Elder Xin Jisi, still in a daze, returned to the temple’s great hall.

Xin Jisi lifted his gaze to the statue of the God of Alchemy and Desire, its presence looming over the hall.

Slowly, he approached, his fingers brushing against the cold stone platform beneath the statue.

The words from the letter echoed in his mind, stirring thoughts he could not silence.

Soon, new statues might stand alongside this one, honoring those chosen by the God of Alchemy and Desire. They would ascend as part of the Mortal Divine System, gaining eternal life and joining the ranks of the divine.

“Who will it be?” Xin Jisi murmured, his voice barely audible.

“Will it be the elders of the City of Miracles or Black Fire City?” he wondered aloud, recalling the ones who had already been chosen and granted divine grace techniques.

As his thoughts spiraled, a single question surfaced, one that sent a shiver down his spine.

“Could it be…” he hesitated, his breath catching.

“Me?”

The silence that followed was deafening, and the answer lingering in his mind was not the one he hoped for.

Even if he wanted to deceive himself at this moment, he found he could no longer deceive himself.

After killing Old Tut and declaring, “After I die, let the floods rage,” he had changed entirely. Something strange had consumed everything he once held dear.

From the depths of the netherworld, shadows began to stir, twisting and coiling into dark tendrils.

They crept forward, slithering around him like living chains, tightening their grip with each passing moment.

As Xin Jisi’s gaze lingered on the statue, the yearning within him swelled, an insatiable hunger that refused to be silenced.

“Why am I not the one standing up there?”

“If God doesn’t choose me, it’s His mistake.”

“That’s right, it’s His mistake.”

One thought after another surged into Xin Jisi’s mind, unstoppable and impossible to erase.

Xin Jisi froze as the realization struck him, fear creeping into his thoughts.

“No,” he muttered, shaking his head. “I should not be thinking this way.”

His voice trembled as he tried to convince himself. “I am a believer of the God of Alchemy and Desire. I can’t let these thoughts consume me.”

Xin Jisi hurriedly walked toward the other direction, toward his resting place.

He was somewhat tired, his head in chaos.

As he walked deeper into the passage, a strange unease began to creep over him.

“Hmm?” Xin Jisi muttered, his gaze darting around the dim corridor.

He scanned his surroundings, searching for the source of his discomfort, but nothing seemed out of place.

Finally, his eyes landed on a bronze mirror nearby, its surface gleaming faintly in the shadows.

Only then did Xin Jisi discover that the bronze mirror he had smashed earlier had actually been restored, placed here in perfect condition.

It was exactly the same, including the wear on the mirror’s base.

Something felt off.

Xin Jisi’s instincts kicked in, his senses sharpening as unease crept over him.

He turned his attention to the mirror, studying his reflection carefully.

Then, without warning, the reflection of Xin Jisi in the mirror broke into a chilling smile, one that did not belong to him.

The smile was unnervingly unnatural, a chilling expression that no human could ever replicate.

The figure in the mirror spoke, its voice low and haunting.

“You’re back.”

“I’ve been waiting for you.”

The mirror seemed to have absorbed the darkness in his heart when Xin Jisi smashed it, becoming some kind of node.

Originally this meant nothing, but when the darkness and sin in his heart continued to expand, a certain mutation occurred.

Xin Jisi stumbled back, his breath hitching as fear gripped him.

“What… what are you?” he stammered, his voice trembling, unable to comprehend the eerie sight.

The person in the mirror gradually became a ceramic puppet. The puppet was very exquisite, with vivid colors.

This was a very strange puppet.

It was not a Snake Person puppet, nor did it resemble God’s Form. Instead, it appeared as a strange entity encased in bone-like armor, exuding an aura of ancient and unfathomable existence.

The scene in the mirror kept enlarging, pulling Xin Jisi’s consciousness into a dark world.

He watched as the puppet expanded, its form stretching to an immense size.

Behind it, stars of flesh and blood shimmered faintly, and towering black mythological doors loomed ominously.

Standing before the doors and the ceramic puppet, he felt insignificant, as though he were an ant in the presence of a towering giant.

The ceramic puppet towered above, looking down at Xin Jisi.

“Snake Person!” the puppet echoed, its voice eerily mimicking Xin Jisi’s own.

“I must say, I quite enjoy that phrase of yours,” it continued, the tone dripping with mockery.

“After I die, let the floods rage!“

Xin Jisi was already completely paralyzed with fear. Before such an existence, he felt like an insect being watched by a giant.

The other could kill him at any time, either carelessly stepping on him or reaching out to lightly pinch him.

Xin Jisi’s gaze lingered on the mythological door, his voice trembling as he asked, “A god?”

“Which deity are you?”

The ceramic puppet replied, “I am not a god! I am the Seal Doll of the God of Original Sin.”

Xin Jisi heard clearly the words “God of Original Sin.” His thoughts raced. “The evil god of the abyss?”

Xin Jisi became even more afraid. This was the most powerful evil god in the abyss. How could it suddenly target him?

“No, the Abyss King and Original Sin Evil God are both bound in the abyss, they cannot appear in the mortal world out of nowhere.”

“You cannot appear in the mortal realm.”

“This is the oath you swore, an unbreakable vow.”

The ceramic puppet replied with a chilling tone, “I did not appear by chance.”

“You summoned me, Xin Jisi. The darkness and evil within your heart have called me forth.”

“Your sin and greed are continuously pouring from your heart, unstoppable.”

The ceramic puppet fixed its gaze on Xin Jisi, its voice booming with an ominous resonance.

“Xin Jisi,” it declared, each word cutting through the air like a blade.

“You are guilty.”

“You have fallen.”

Everyone carries sin, and falling into darkness is an inevitable part of existence.

It is not the darkness itself that is terrifying, nor the emptiness that consumes the heart.

What is truly frightening is when the darkness within you draws the gaze of the Original Sin Evil God from the abyss. In that moment, your fate is no longer your own.

Xin Jisi froze, his voice trembling as he tried to deny the truth.

“No!”

“I am a follower of the God of Alchemy and Desire. The blood of the Golden Family runs through my veins.”

“God will protect me… God will guide me… God will…”

His words faltered, trailing off into silence as doubt began to creep into his heart.

Xin Jisi shouted, his voice trembling with desperation, “You won’t tempt me! I won’t fall to your tricks!”

“I belong to the mortal realm! I serve the God of Alchemy and Desire! I am the Grand Elder of the Land of Sunrise!”

The Seal Doll of the God of Original Sin loomed above, its presence cold and indifferent to Xin Jisi’s turmoil. It made no effort to coax or tempt him, nor did it offer any guidance toward corruption.

“Fool!” it spat, its voice sharp and cutting.

“You still cling to the belief that your god will protect you?”

“You’ve been cast aside!”

“Why do you think you’ve fallen? Why do you think the light has left you?”

The ceramic puppet’s gaze bore into him, its tone dripping with disdain.

“Isn’t it because you no longer truly believe? Because you’ve strayed from your faith?”

Xin Jisi staggered backward, his hands clutching his head as he sank to his knees. His voice trembled, barely audible, as he muttered, “No… it can’t be true.”

“It’s not like that… it’s not…”

The words faltered, weak and hollow, unable to mask the doubt creeping into his heart. Even he could no longer believe them.

How could someone with faith say those words?

How could someone with faith think, “Why am I not the one on the divine platform?”

The ceramic puppet continued, “Do you think you lack talent? That’s why you weren’t chosen by God?”

“No, you do have the talent to become Fourth-Rank.”

“But you’re old, you’re no good anymore. Your god has abandoned you.”

“You failed to pass God’s test.”

“Because… you’re useless!”

The ceramic puppet laughed heartily, freely mocking this foolish mortal, Xin Jisi.

“Quite laughable. You still want to compensate for your own talent.”

“Nothing you do will work.”

“Because you’re useless. Your god has many believers, countless people to use.”

“You’re not unique. You’re just one among them.”

The ceramic puppet leaned down with one eye to look at him, at Xin Jisi’s aged appearance, “How could the God of Alchemy and Desire choose an old fellow like you, a useless person, to become His apostle?”

Xin Jisi collapsed to the ground, his body trembling as he buried his face in his hands.

“None of it is true!” he cried out, his voice breaking with desperation.

“All lies… nothing but lies.”

Yet, the cracks in his resolve were unmistakable, his words faltering as the weight of truth pressed down on him. The once-proud Grand Elder was unraveling, his spirit crumbling under the strain.

The true horror was not the abyssal demon’s temptation, but the undeniable truth in its words. Xin Jisi had felt these doubts and fears deep within himself for a long time, though he had refused to confront them until now.

The terrifying abyssal demon had punctured his self-deceptive illusions, making him face his desires directly.

Then, the ceramic puppet extended its hand toward the void, and a door began to materialize behind it.

The Door of Original Sin creaked open, its edges glowing with an eerie, mythological light that spilled forth, bathing Xin Jisi in its unsettling radiance.

The puppet’s voice resonated, deep and commanding, “Xin Jisi!”

“This world is vast, filled with countless choices and countless paths.”

“The God of Original Sin offers you an opportunity, a chance to wield the power of an abyssal apostle and become the proxy of Original Sin.”

Xin Jisi sat in silence, the weight of the moment pressing heavily upon him. Time seemed to stretch endlessly, the stillness broken only by the faint sound of his breathing.

Finally, he lifted his gaze to meet the ceramic puppet’s unyielding stare. His voice, barely above a whisper, carried a mix of hesitation and longing.

“Is it… truly possible?”

Upon hearing these words, the ceramic puppet erupted into laughter, its voice echoing with a sinister delight.

It laughed with great delight, as if what it most enjoyed was watching mortals fall like this.

The puppet leaned closer, its voice dropping to a low, haunting whisper.

“But tell me this…”

“Would a thousand years truly be enough?”

“Don’t you want to live ten thousand years? A hundred thousand years?”

“Don’t you want… to live forever?”

Xin Jisi immediately said loudly, the greed in this Grand Elder’s eyes of the Land of Sunrise growing more intense, more unrestrained.

“Not enough!”

“Of course not enough.”

“I want even more.”

Xin Jisi no longer looked at the ceramic puppet, but at his own wrinkled hands.

“I want to live ten thousand years, a hundred thousand years.”

“I want eternal life.”

“I also want…”

Xin Jisi raised his head, looking at that mythological door.

But he didn’t say it aloud.

The ceramic puppet laughed even louder. After finishing its laughter, it suddenly lowered its head, speaking to Xin Jisi.

“Accept the God of Original Sin’s offer.”

“Take your place as the future King of Greed.”

Meanwhile, Xin Jisi found himself drawn to the mirror, his steps slow and unsteady. His vacant eyes fixed on its surface as he pressed his hands tightly against it, as though seeking answers from the reflection staring back at him.

From the mirror, twisted black arms reached out, their grotesque forms wrapping around Grand Elder Xin Jisi.

They clutched at the deepest shadows of his heart, feeding on his darkest thoughts and desires.

In that moment, the mortal Snake Person and the abyssal evil god became intertwined.

Through the veil of corruption and darkness, a bond was forged, unleashing the abyss’s power into the mortal realm.