"I keep feeling like something isn't quite right…"
Whether by his own intuition or through various means of detection, everything confirmed that the man was thoroughly, completely dead.
And even Soros had to admit — the other party was indeed a genius.
Not only had he advanced to High Mage at such a young age, but he was also a dragon-vein bearer. Combined with the quasi-magical power flowing through his bloodline, his actual combat strength should have rivaled those at the secular peak of level twenty.
"You're a genius… What a pity. Mortals shouldn't provoke the gods…"
Soros spoke with what seemed like genuine regret as he gently closed the severed head's eyes.
At that moment, figures had already appeared in large numbers from the direction of Dawnstar Harbor, and several High Priests were flying directly toward them.
"The Church of the Goddess of Wealth, is it…"
Soros shook his head with undisguised contempt but chose not to clash with them, instead vanishing into the clouds of dust.
…
Inside the Church of the God of Murder.
The Pontiff looked at Soros, unable to suppress the smile on his face: "Well done, my child. Now, let us offer this sinner's head as a sacrifice to our deity…"
Hummm!!! The statue of the God of Murder emitted a tremendous rumble upon receiving the offering, and golden divine power rippled outward like waves.
Then the entire statue came alive, transforming into a man with a sinister countenance.
"My faithful follower Soros! You have done well, and I shall grant you the reward you deserve!"
The incarnation of the God of Murder spoke with a magnetic voice that carried a very particular flavor, and as his words fell, a vast ocean of divine power descended upon Soros's head.
"This is… Divine Grace! The highest grade of Divine Grace!!!"
The Pontiff beside him cried out involuntarily. When he saw a sliver of dark-golden light descend, his composure finally broke and the ancient liturgical text in his hands slipped to the floor.
"There's even Divinity!!!"
"What? Are you questioning my Lord's decision?"
Soros, having received the infusion of divine power and the gift of Divinity, now resembled a golden statue. Arcane lightning flickered faintly within his pupils.
The benefits he had gained this time were enormous — the God of Murder had directly raised his professional level by one rank! He had even bestowed upon him Divinity!
"I would never dare. You are the Chosen of the divine will, the Lord's representative upon the earth!"
A flash of wariness crossed the Pontiff's eyes, but he still spoke with full awareness of the shifting balance of power.
In the church of a true deity, the god was supreme. Below that came the Pontiff and the Chosen. In terms of standing, Soros was now roughly on equal footing with the Pontiff himself — the only difference was the depth of divine favor they each enjoyed.
"Haha…"
When he saw that even his former superior now bowed before him, Soros laughed heartily. All his lingering doubts about the strangeness of this mission were swept away in an instant.
And at that moment, behind him in the unseen void, a vertical eye slowly materialized.
…
Thirty years later, Soros hurled an aged mage hard into the ground, his face alight with savage satisfaction: "Haha! Medite, you never expected this, did you? Now you've fallen into my hands!"
"Im… impossible… How are you so powerful? How did you advance so quickly?"
Medite was riddled with grievous wounds, and his voice had grown so faint it was barely audible.
"All thanks to my Lord's grace!"
Soros seized the mage by his collar: "Back then, you surpassed me in everything, and in the end you stole Venis's heart. You became a Legendary Mage, but now… you're not even worth as much as a dog…"
"Kill me… just kill me…" The defenseless mage could only murmur weakly.
"I won't make it that easy for you. Every year of suffering and humiliation I endured — I'll repay it all to you, slowly…"
Soros seized the mage and rocketed into the sky.
At that moment, the vertical eye from before reappeared, cracking open just a sliver to reveal a scarlet gleam…
…
More than two hundred years later, inside the temple of the God of Murder.
"Cough… cough…" The Pontiff stared at the dagger embedded in his chest, then turned in disbelief to face the assembled church elders — and the grinning face of Soros.
"You… you actually…"
"You old fool. The Cardinal and the Glory Executors have all betrayed you and chosen me. You've become obsolete!"
Soros's smile was utterly savage.
"Our Lord… will not spare you…" After grinding out those words through clenched teeth, the Pontiff's body instantly dissolved into a pillar of flame.
A mighty will descended.
"Soros!"
"My God. You are the master of death, the supreme sovereign among all the stars of heaven…" Soros prostrated himself.
"You succeeded in using schemes to eliminate the former Pontiff — excellent! From this day forward, you are the new Pontiff of the Church of the God of Murder!!"
"I obey! I shall fulfill my Lord's mission, plunging the continent into conspiracy and slaughter…"
Soros swore, a faint red glimmer in his eyes.
And behind him, the vertical eye had now opened to nearly half, yet strangely, no one noticed its presence.
…
And Soros, who had rendered such great service, ascended to godhood with
Thousands of years more passed. Growing ever more dissatisfied, Soros launched a divine war, defeated Cyric, and devoured him, becoming a greater deity who held dominion over conspiracy, slaughter, and death.
After entering the realm of greater deity, Soros waged continuous wars, forged a unified pantheon, and became the sole supreme god. He even usurped the throne of the High God.
He sat at the highest point of the pantheon in the world of the gods, his gaze piercing through the river of time, as though he could endure for eternity.
And now, the vertical eye behind him had finally opened completely!!!
"Hmm? Who goes there?" Soros instantly sensed mortal danger — a warning that erupted from the depths of his soul. He could somehow feel that this presence could cast him into irreversible ruin.
"At the very apex of this world, why is there still someone else? Could there truly be a being who transcends the world?"
The throne shattered. Soros turned around, his face frozen in shock.
The colossal vertical eye loomed like something eternal, clearly visible, and it was projecting its image into every corner of the world.
Wisps of dark-red mist kept emerging, gnawing from the edges at the entire world of the gods.
"What are you? A demon?"
The instant he beheld the vertical eye, every hair on Soros's body stood on end. He felt as though it had been watching him from behind all along.
Even a High God would be seized with fury at the sensation of being observed in such a manner.
"Haaa!"
The supreme, transcendent divine power surged in his hand, carrying the purple lightning that could split worlds. It coalesced into a spear worthy of the gods and fell into Soros's grasp.
He hurled the spear with all his might. The endless void shattered, and the blessings and empowerment of every god in the pantheon surged forward.
Pop.
An attack powerful enough to slay a god collided with the vertical eye — and not a single sound was produced. It shattered and disintegrated as silently as a mote of dust striking a boulder.
"H-How… how is this possible? I am the High God! I command the primordial force of the world of the gods…"
Soros staggered backward, the fear in his heart growing ever more acute.
"I have witnessed the birth and destruction of worlds, the rise and fall of races. In the long river of time, only the stupidity of mortals is eternal!"
A terrifying message surfaced in the depths of Soros's mind, and he understood its meaning perfectly.
"Mortal? How could I possibly be a mortal…"
Soros laughed emptily twice, and then the muscles on his face began to spasm. He discovered that he had indeed been reduced once more to a flesh-and-blood body — the sensation of being hurled from heaven to hell in an instant nearly drove him to the brink of collapse.
But the vertical eye gave him no more time. Its open gaze locked directly onto Soros.
Booooom!!! The entire world was corroded and devoured by the crimson vertical eye. Soros shrieked and struggled as he shrank into a tiny black dot, ultimately vanishing within the eye's pupil.
…
In an inn, Soros — who had been sound asleep in his quarters — let his head loll to one side. He was dead…
Outside the inn, Leilin rubbed his brow, looking thoroughly exhausted: "The dream-feeding ability really is terrifying. And constructing an entire complex world, even an illusory one, is far too taxing for me in my current state…"
"Still… it was all worth it…"
Recalling the rush of having consumed the other's complete dream, Leilin couldn't help but let his expression shift.
The dream-feeding ability didn't merely consume the target's dreams — it devoured Soros's memories, experience, and everything else as well.
That sensation of fulfillment originating from the very essence of the soul told Leilin that he had now met every condition for advancing to the Legendary stage. All he needed was to return, meditate quietly for a period, digest what he had gained, and the breakthrough would come naturally.
"Though… if I hadn't happened to spot Soros's dream with my Dream Gaze, this probably wouldn't have succeeded so easily… It seems that to use this dream-feeding ability to its fullest potential, I'll need to combine it with spells that lure enemies into the dreamscape — my previous Dream Arcana, Moonlit Reverie, could be improved and upgraded further…"
Without sparing another thought for what had transpired inside the inn, Leilin — having reaped a rich harvest — simply vanished into midair.
The outer seas were essentially the territory of the Farolan Family, and with the pirate forces acting as their enforcers, monitoring the entire outer sea might have been an exaggeration, but keeping surveillance on the waters around Farolan Island was no trouble at all.
Each day's intelligence was filtered and organized by the Chip to identify suspicious targets, and Leilin would personally investigate.
This time, Soros had simply been unlucky — caught by Leilin's Dream Gaze. No matter how well he had hidden himself, it made no difference.
He was like a beautiful butterfly that had flown straight into a spider's carefully laid web.