Wizard: My skills can be upgraded indefinitely.

Cathedral of Holy Light, Dormitory for Third-Rank Deacons.

Moonlight slanted in through the wooden window, casting a hazy patch of light on the ground.

Anson sat cross-legged on the hard wooden bed, his fingertips gently tracing a stone slab above his knees.

The stone slab was covered with intricate golden runes, which he had "borrowed" from the depths of the church's library: the "Demigod Ritual".

His name will not be recorded in the borrowing log, because the old monk who was in charge of managing the library died of natural causes in his sleep three days ago.

Anson used a little trick to let the old monk's soul peacefully dissipate in his dream, and then took away several forbidden books from the deepest part of the library.

The "Demigod Ritual" is one of them, containing fragments of text about igniting divine fire and condensing divinity.

But the more Anson studied it, the colder he felt inside.

"I've long since mastered the superficial processes of faith gathering, filtering, refining, and disseminating."

The sacred stone slab absorbs faith, the church statue gathers faith, the underground faith pool purifies faith, and finally, through the divine array at the base of the statue, it is transmitted to the astral divine kingdom.

The whole process is like a precise assembly line, with believers as raw materials, faith as the product, and deities as the final consumers.

"But how can faith be transformed into divine power corresponding to these rules?"

Why can different deities extract different divine powers from the same primitive belief?

What role do divinity and divine fire play in the transformation?

Anson closed his eyes, and these three questions came to mind.

The author didn't mention it at all in "The Code of Demigods," not because he didn't know, but because... he dared not write it.

This is the deepest secret of the civilization of the gods, and the foundation for maintaining divine rule.

Only a demigod, possessing divine nature and having ignited divine fire, could truly know this.

He now understood that, let alone ordinary clergy, even archbishops and popes were merely users, not creators.

They knew how to use divine power, but they didn't know where it came from, just like a farmer knows how to use a hoe to till the land, but doesn't know how iron ore is smelted into steel.

Anson opened his eyes, a cold light flashing in them. He needed to witness firsthand the process of faith transforming into divine power.

"Let's try killing a demigod first."

But you can't just choose any target.

Directly provoking orthodox demigods under the command of the main gods such as the God of Light, the God of War, and the Goddess of Wisdom is too risky.

Those demigods, who are stationed in various dioceses and have close ties with the core of the Divine Court, will immediately attract the attention of the higher-ups of the Divine Court if anything happens to them.

At that point, let alone dissection, even getting out of there will be a problem.

"We need to find someone on the fringes, someone who's isolated and helpless, someone whose death would be unnoticed."

During this time, he secretly collected a lot of information about demigods who were famous but notorious.

His eyes closed slightly, and his consciousness sank into the panel.

[Search Target: Demigods of the Light Continent who are not part of the Light Pantheon]

[Search criteria: Evil alignment, tyrannical rule, isolated and helpless, filtering...]

Pale gold lettering flowed along the edge of the field of vision, refreshing line by line.

This information comes from the church’s confidential archives, snippets of conversation from confessionals, and even some heretical texts that were listed as forbidden books.

It took Anson a whole month to piece these fragments together into a complete intelligence network.

Now, it's time to put it to good use.

[Filtering complete; 17 individuals meet the criteria]

[Sorting by danger level...]

Seventeen names appeared on the panel, each followed by a brief description.

"Gross, the God of Blood Sacrifice, rules Blood Moon Canyon and holds a blood sacrifice of a hundred people every month..."

"Fera, the Lord of Plague, spreads plague and feeds on the suffering of believers..."

"Serena, the Mother of the Swamp, a demigoddess of the swamp, skilled in poison magic..."

Anson's gaze swept over them one by one, finally settling on one name.

【Lord of the Drowned - Morlock】

[Clergy: Drowning, Human Sacrifice, Fear of Faith]

[Divinity: Decay, Fear, Sacrifice, Bloodlust]

[Dominated Area: Black Lake and all villages within a thousand miles]

[Faction Affiliation: Drowned Wilderness Pantheon (Marginal Faction)]

[Time of lighting the divine fire: Approximately 380 years ago]

Threat Level: Low (No strong allies, weak pantheon)

[Note: A human water ritual is held monthly.]

Anson stared at the line of text, his pupils brightening slightly.

Divinity comprises four rules. It is not a pantheon of light gods, but belongs to the pantheon of drowned wastelands gods, a loose, weak, and marginal force rejected by the mainstream divine court.

Most importantly... there are no strong allies.

Killing them won't arouse excessive vigilance from the core forces of the Divine Court.

"It's you." Anson murmured to himself silently, his eyes cold.

He walked back to the bedside, sat down again, and continued to pull up detailed information about Morlock.

Black Erosion Lake is located on the northwestern edge of the Bright Continent, extremely far from Holy Light City to the west, at least a million kilometers away.

The lake is shrouded in gray fog year-round, and the water is as black as ink and contains highly toxic substances. The total population of the surrounding villages is approximately 100,000.

Their methods of governance were extremely brutal. At the beginning of each month, a water sacrifice was held, and then ten villagers were randomly selected from nearby villages.

The sacrificial offerings had to be young children who drowned in extreme fear.

The purity of fear-based faith is as high as 92%, which is higher than the purity of faith generated through repentance.

Anson stared at the data, his eyes filled with murderous intent.

If 100,000 people die, and 10 die each month, that's 45,600 lives lost over 380 years.

This doesn't even include its usual killings, or the number of people killed by its cult members.

"That's... a very efficient way to harvest."

Because the fear a person feels before drowning is one of the most extreme emotions.

Despair, suffocation, coldness, darkness... all negative emotions erupt before death, generating the most intense fluctuations in the soul.

It was through this "efficient" pastoral method that Morlock ignited the divine fire and concentrated divinity 380 years ago.

"Degradation, fear, sacrifice, bloodlust..."

Anson looked at the four divine rules, a thoughtful look flashing in his eyes. All four rules were highly compatible with Morlock's divine duties.

If we could dissect it and extract its divinity...

"Not only can you uncover the secret of faith transforming into divine power, but you can also gain four complete insights into the rules."

Divinity is the real hard currency in the Continent of Light.

"If it contains fragments of rules..." Anson's heart skipped a beat.

Rules are also the most precious thing in the wizarding world. Countless level three wizards are stuck at the threshold of rules and cannot break through it in their entire lives.

He has the opportunity to obtain four kinds of rules at once, although they are all biased towards negative and evil rules, but the rules themselves are neither good nor evil.

Just like a knife can be used to kill or to save lives, it all depends on who holds it.

"However... we need to bring the main body down first."

He is currently just a projection, and his strength cannot be improved too quickly in the short term. He is only capable of dealing with ordinary priests and bishops.

It's far from enough to deal with a demigod who has been burning divine fire for 380 years.

This is equivalent to a Morning Star Wizard in the Wizarding World, requiring the original Wizard to personally intervene.

Anson's gaze fell on the corner of the dormitory, where several white robes were piled up, and under the robes was a thick book, "The Canon of Light".

Tucked inside the canon were several pieces of parchment, on which were recorded some "special" names.

Those were the "villains" he had heard about in the confessional over the past few months.

Robbery, murder, Human trafficking... every single one of them deserves to die.

However, for various reasons, such as accepting bribes or being involved with certain nobles, the church did not take any action.

Anson hadn't originally intended to get involved, but now... they've found a new purpose.

"Sacrifice the souls of villains as anchors for our descent." A cold glint flashed in his eyes.

Soul sacrifice is all too common in the divine realm. Which of those evil gods and wicked spirits doesn't feed on souls?

Morlock's monthly water sacrifice to the living is essentially a soul sacrifice, but what he wants is fear and faith, while also devouring souls.

What Anson is doing is no different from what they are doing.

The only difference is that he sacrificed those who truly deserved to die.

"Consider it a service to the people." He got up, walked to the corner, and pulled out the few pieces of parchment.

The paper contained a long list of names, followed by a brief description of the crime.

"Karl Black Iron, the tax collector of Blackwater Village, used the pretext of collecting taxes to seduce thirteen women, resulting in the deaths of five of them."

"Modina, the witch doctor of Rotleaf Village, used living people to test her medicine, poisoning twenty-four people in the process."

"Us, the captain of the guards in the Bone Village, sold 137 villagers to slave traders."

……

Anson looked at the names stained with blood with a calm expression.

Their deaths will pave the way for him to reach the demigod's dissection table.

"Let's start with Karl." Anson put away the parchment and pushed open the dormitory door.

He walked along the corridor into the depths of the church, his steps light and silent.

His status as a Level 3 Deacon allowed him to move freely at night, as long as he did not enter restricted areas.

Meanwhile, Karl, the tax collector from Blackwater Village, happens to be "confessing" in the church tonight.

He walked to the confessional, pushed open the wooden door, and saw a fat middle-aged man kneeling before the statue of a god, muttering insincere prayers.

Hearing the door open, the man turned around, saw Anson, and a fawning smile spread across his face.

"Deacon Anson, you've arrived."

Karl rubbed his hands together, took out a small purse from his pocket, and quietly slipped it over.

"This is just a small token of my appreciation; I hope you'll put in a good word for me with the bishop..."

Anson didn't take the money bag; he just stared at Carl silently, as if he were looking at a corpse.

Karl felt uneasy under their gaze, and his smile froze.

"Steward, what is this...?"

"Karl Black Iron," Anson said calmly, "of your thirteen women, five have died."

"You used the pretext of taxation to plunder the people's wealth, causing 37 families to be ruined and their lives lost."

"You colluded with bandits to rob a caravan and divided the loot among yourself, receiving seven hundred gold coins."

With each word he spoke, Karl's face grew paler, until finally, he was trembling all over.

"Butler... those are all rumors... someone is framing me..."

"Is that so?" A wisp of golden light appeared at Anson's fingertip, and a clear image emerged within the light.

Carl dragged a girl into the warehouse. The girl struggled and cried out, but he grabbed her by the neck.

The scene shifts, and Carl hands a bag of gold coins to the bandit leader, the two whispering secrets.

Turning around again, Karl stood in front of a pile of corpses, counting blood-stained gold coins.

"Are these... also rumors?"

Karl's eyes widened, his pupils shrinking to pinpoints: "You... how could you..."

"My lord knows everything," Anson interrupted him, the golden light at his fingertips growing brighter and brighter.

"Your sins must be paid for."

"No...don't..."

Carl tried to run, but his body was pinned to the spot and he couldn't move. He tried to shout for help, but his throat was choked and he couldn't make a sound.

He could only watch helplessly as the golden light entered his brow, his consciousness sinking into darkness.

Then the soul was forcibly stripped away and sealed, the whole process taking less than three seconds.

Anson withdrew his hand, revealing a tiny gray dot the size of a grain of rice in his palm, through which he could vaguely see Karl screaming silently.

Karl's soul is of poor quality and full of impurities. It can be used as an anchor point coordinate, but its stability is poor.

Anson remained expressionless as he stored the light spot into a specially made soul container in his sleeve.

Then he went to the corner of the confessional, scooped up a handful of holy water, and sprinkled it on Karl.

When the holy water touched the skin, the corpse began to melt; flesh, bones, clothes... all turned into a puddle of clear water, which then evaporated and disappeared.

Anson looked at the pool of clear water and softly recited a prayer.

"May our Lord purify your sins and guide your soul to the Kingdom of God."

His tone was devout, and his eyes were compassionate.

After doing all this, he turned and left the confessional.

They found Modena in a remote village, swiftly killed her, disposed of the body, and then hurriedly moved on to the next location.

It was still dark outside the city of Holy Light, in a small valley.

Anson took out the soul container from his sleeve, which now contained seven gray light spots.

Carl, Mona, Rex... the souls of all seven villains have been collected.

The quality is not high, and they are full of impurities, but they are enough as a sacrificial anchor.

He sat cross-legged, placed the container in front of him, and let his consciousness sink into the sea of ​​consciousness, connecting with his true self in the distant edge of the world.

"Main body, coordinates collected, you can come over now."

He traced a complex rune in the void with his fingertips; this was the reverse summoning circle of the [Multiverse Projection Descent Technique].

"With the souls of the seven sins as sacrifice, with the void as a bridge, and rules as the path..."

Anson chanted incantations, his voice echoing through the valley.

The seven gray dots in the container lit up at the same time, like seven faint stars, and slowly floated out of the container, arranging themselves in the air to form a seven-pointed star.

Gray soul energy, like smoke, swirled and outlined the shape of a door in mid-air.

Within the endless void inside the gate, a figure slowly emerged.

He wore a grey robe, had black hair and black eyes, and the sun, moon and stars were reflected deep within his pupils.

Ian Marcus, in his true form, has arrived.

Read the full text for free, Chapter 427: Locking onto the Target, the Main Body Descends. Link: