The moment the old butler and the young boy set foot within the borders of Bankz Island, they were "escorted with friendly courtesy" by a squad of elite native soldiers.
Out of the prudence expected of guests under another's roof, they obediently accepted the arrangement. After several days of anxious waiting, they finally received an audience with Leilin.
"Young master, did you remember everything I told you?"
On the path leading up to the Holy Mountain, the old butler looked solemnly at the boy.
"I remembered!" The tense atmosphere had made the boy's muscles go stiff, but he still nodded.
"Sigh… What a beautiful and prosperous land. This is truly one of the most solid foundations even among other demigods. No wonder they've been able to thrive for so long, unafraid of the continent's attempts at suppression…"
The old butler gazed at the flourishing imperial capital and sighed inwardly.
He had to admit, Leilin had truly chosen an excellent location — one that offered both a plentiful population and faith, while keeping the continent's influence to an absolute minimum.
Still, he was merely engaging in hindsight. Not everyone possessed Leilin's audacity to set out with the goal of conquering a native empire from the very start.
Moreover, the spiritual corruption embedded in the souls of the natives was a problem that all gods steered clear of.
It was only because of all these factors combined that Leilin had obtained this greatest of prizes. Otherwise, Bankz Island would have long since been carved up among the gods, and there would have been no room for Leilin.
*Clang!* The massive doors swung open slowly. Whether it was the Devil Hunters standing guard on both sides or the large numbers of priests and apprentices moving about, all of it gave the master and servant pair a deeply imposing impression.
"Welcome!"
Tifa stood at the top of the steps, resplendent in full papal regalia and crown, his expression both benevolent and sacred.
"Humble servants… We dare not trouble the Pontiff…"
The butler tugged the boy, bringing him out of his reverie. The boy hastily bowed.
Tifa smiled indulgently at the boy's small blunder. "Please, follow me. My Lord will receive you in person…"
Upon hearing this news, the butler and the boy both tensed visibly.
"It's that Serpent Overlord! The master of all Bankz Island, the youngest [Legendary] Mage on the continent — Leilin Farell, who conquered an empire with just a few thousand men! A legend among legends…"
The boy and the butler exchanged a glance, each seeing the same thought — and the unmistakable unease behind it.
But Tifa was already leading the way, and the pair had no room to refuse. All they could do was follow with pounding hearts.
The three quickly made their way to the palace behind the headquarters. There, a god clad in white robes stood beneath a divine statue.
Faint golden light radiated from his body and merged with the colossal statue of the Feathered Serpent God, causing the enormous effigy to emit a subtle glow of its own. The entire temple felt harmonious and unified, as though everything had become one.
The moment he laid eyes on the man, the butler confirmed it — this was truly Leilin Farell, the legendary master of the entire Bankz Empire, a current [Demigod] Mage!
"Great being, please accept the humble devotion of this lowly mortal!"
The butler was the first to drop to his knees in prostration, and the boy hurriedly followed behind him.
"[High-level Mage], Shelif of the Dawn Hand… Your loyalty is commendable…"
Leilin's voice was not loud, yet it pervaded the entirety of the temple with an eerie clarity, carrying an undeniable force.
The Serpent Church had long since obtained every secret of this High-level Mage. And before Leilin, not even the depths of one's heart could remain hidden.
"Is this the Scorpion's son?"
The god's gaze drifted past Shelif and settled on the boy.
"R-Ruika greets Your Excellency…" the boy stammered. In his perception, the majesty radiating from Leilin actually surpassed that of his own demigod father — the former lord of the church.
"Indeed… Ruika carries the bloodline and glory of my Lord, and will surely one day become divine!"
When it came to matters of his own faith, Shelif had no choice but to speak up. "Your Excellency, please, by the goodwill my Lord once showed, help us…"
Before the humble plea of a mortal, Leilin's expression remained noncommittal. But as he looked at Ruika, there was a trace of pity in his gaze.
"As a divine child, do you know what your fate is?"
"Fate?!" Ruika's eyes held confusion and bewilderment.
"As my Lord's offspring, he has no choice!" Shelif declared loudly, clearly still hoping to conceal the truth for a while longer.
"Heh!"
At this, Leilin merely smiled and shook his head, with no intention of exposing the matter.
A [True God]'s resurrection required only faith, but a [Demigod]'s was far more demanding. The Scorpion Lord had possessed no积累 of divine power or divine protection to begin with, and had now already fallen. Even if sufficient faith could be gathered in the future, the most crucial element for resurrection and descent into the world — a "vessel" — would still be missing!
That vessel had to be powerful enough to bear the god's power, and more importantly, it had to share the same divine blood!
Clearly, Ruika was that vessel. And on some future day, the Scorpion Lord would tear apart his body and resurrect from within his flesh, descending into the world once more!
This was not exclusive to demigods. In truth, many True
Leilin had once speculated with some malice whether the
"I once entered into a divine covenant with the Scorpion, pledging to provide whatever help lay within my power. A god's oath cannot be broken!"
Leilin delivered his final, affirmative answer.
"Thank you, Your Excellency!"
Shelif bowed in grateful surprise. Even he could never have imagined things would proceed so smoothly.
But when his gaze fell upon Ruika, Shelif hesitated for a moment before finally giving the boy a firm look.
"Great Lord! This is our humble offering!"
After receiving Shelif's look, Ruika gritted his teeth, tore a glittering necklace from around his neck, and presented it with both hands…
After the others had departed, Leilin examined the necklace in his hand.
"A divine artifact? It seems to carry a hint of hidden power…"
The Chip's analysis flickered through Leilin's eyes, and he casually tossed the necklace directly into his half-plane storage.
For Leilin as he was now, even a [Super Artifact] was already under refinement. A mere divine artifact was nothing worth noting — though it would serve nicely as a collectible.
"That Ruika… I sensed the rich scent of divine blood on him…"
Leilin gazed in the direction Ruika had departed, and images seemed to flicker across his pupils of the boy's journey after leaving.
…
Inside the carriage, Ruika seemed to have steeled himself considerably before finally asking Shelif: "Just now… what that lord said…"
"You don't need to know these things! My young master!"
Shelif's expression turned cold in an instant. The immense pressure radiating from his body suppressed every word Ruika had wanted to say.
"You only need to know that you were born for my Lord, and everything about you must be sacrificed for my Lord's resurrection…"
In Shelif's eyes burned the fervor of a zealot. That terrifying, burning fanaticism made Ruika involuntarily lower his head deep into his chest.
…
As a demigod, within his own domain, the task of observing a High-level Mage was trivial — the target would have no ability to resist, or even to detect it.
Countless secrets instantly surfaced before Leilin's eyes.
Unfortunately, he felt not a shred of pity for Ruika's plight, nor the slightest inclination to intervene.
"Judging from the concentration of his divine blood, the Scorpion Lord's chances of resurrection have increased somewhat… but it's still not enough…"
The god's gaze seemed to have already crossed the ocean, reaching the vast expanse of the continent.
…
In the southern reaches of the continent, amid dense thickets and treacherous swamps.
A Devil Hunter wearing the Serpent Church's emblem cautiously navigated past the territories of numerous predatory beasts, as well as tribes of barbarians and kobolds, finally reaching the depths of the swamp.
This was a place of ultimate death. Rumors even spoke of hydras nesting here, their poisonous miasma capable of killing any living creature — even divine magic could offer no salvation.
Yet few on the continent knew that deep within the swamp, a cluster of humanoid tribal folk had gathered.
*Wooo-wooo…* A horn carved from a massive ox horn sounded its deep, resonant call, and throngs of humanoid creatures assembled together.
Surrounded by natives whose appearances resembled ordinary humans but bore the features of gnolls and kobolds, an elderly man clearly identifiable as a priest ascended to the altar.
"Ukukulu… Our god Ukukulu… We pray to you devoutly, and offer you the sacrifice of blood!"
As the old man chanted his prayers, several disrobed sacrifices, trembling and shivering, were brought onto the platform.
A faint crimson gleam entered the priest's eyes. He picked up an obsidian dagger, kissed it reverently, then turned to face the captives, looking upon them as one would livestock awaiting slaughter.
The techniques passed down through generations allowed him to dismember these sacrifices with practiced ease, ensuring they remained alive until the final cut.
Only in this way would Ukukulu be pleased and bestow his divine favor!
Demigods, along with demons and devils — these false gods and pseudo-deities unlike True Gods — would do anything for the sake of faith and greater power, greedily demanding from their followers.
More often than not, Leilin believed it was precisely this bunch of short-sighted beings that had tarnished the reputation of all demigods, making it difficult for his Serpent Church to conduct its work on the continent.
Still, his complaints were nothing more than the comfort of a man standing at ease. Without the offering of blood and flesh, relying solely on the faith of a handful of believers, the demigods would have starved long ago.
Only Leilin, who occupied Bankz Island with no one to contest his hold on the local faith, could afford to treat his followers with leniency and offer them greater benefits.
In the long run, this was the best approach — but the conditions were too specific, making it nearly impossible to replicate elsewhere.
And as the priest performed his ritual, the other worshippers likewise dropped to their knees in prayer. The churning pool of blood surged and roiled, as though some horrifying power was being nurtured within…