He has been reincarnated through countless worlds, adorned with billions of mythological terms!

Yun Yi took a deep breath and then slowly exhaled.

The moon-white divine robe fluttered in the night wind, and his platinum-gold short hair was lifted upwards by the air currents.

Golden light surged from the depths of his body, like a small sun rising above the ground.

Xi Sheng Yuan Tong's full power was unleashed at this moment.

The light grew brighter and brighter.

From its surroundings to its soaring upwards, a golden beam of light pierced the clouds, confronting the three falling "meteors" in the night sky.

Distance: 80 kilometers.

Time: 15 seconds.

Yun Yi raised his hands, palms facing upwards.

A warm, golden light emanated from my palm—gentle and soft, like the morning light of spring, yet overwhelming and sweeping across everything, as if the sun had fallen to earth.

A burst of light erupted from beneath his feet, spreading wildly in all directions with overwhelming force.

Centered on the villa, the development extends outwards—gardens, walls, streets, residential areas, commercial districts, industrial zones, rivers, bridges…every inch of land, every tree, every building, and every road is covered, enveloped, and permeated by that warm golden hue.

It's as if an invisible yet enormous and gentle hand is gently holding the entire city in its palm.

The city is glowing.

The entire city.

From high above, on that continent in the eastern hemisphere of the blue planet, a city lights up in the night.

A warm, golden light that soothes like a mother's embrace.

Light rises from every corner—from the rooftops, from the road, from the foliage, and even from the cracks in the manhole covers.

Golden light enveloped the entire city, turning it into a giant, luminous cocoon.

Those who were still asleep were not awakened.

Those who were busy on the night shift did not feel any discomfort.

The homeless on the streets, the patients in the hospital, the elderly in the nursing home, the children in the welfare home—everyone felt something at the same moment.

A kind of warmth.

A sense of peace.

A sense of security and peace of mind, as if protected by something.

No one could say what it was, but everyone knew—

They were protected.

Yun Yi stood in the center of the light, his feet off the ground, hovering in mid-air.

barefoot.

The moon-white divine robe fluttered in the light, and new bud patterns on the hem were growing—spreading upwards from the hem, climbing over the waist, and reaching the chest, like vines entwining the whole body.

Her platinum blonde short hair was lifted by the airflow, like a cloud illuminated by the morning light.

His eyes turned completely golden, and the pupils reflected the three ever-growing points of light above his head.

Distance: 50 kilometers.

Time: Eight seconds.

Three nuclear warheads plunged downwards at speeds exceeding Mach 15, their bodies rubbing against the atmosphere and creating a blinding white light, like three spears of judgment hurled from the hands of the gods.

The insulation tiles began to peel off, revealing a silver-gray metal casing with blurry text and serial numbers printed on it.

Yun Yi raised his right hand.

"Xi Sheng - Purification".

The sound wasn't loud, but the whole city heard it.

A beam of light shot out from the fingertip.

As fine as a needle, as bright as a sword, and as fast as lightning.

A warm, golden beam of light shot into the sky, heading towards the three falling nuclear warheads.

At an altitude of 15 kilometers, the beam of light met the warhead.

The moment the first one was pierced, the metal casing tore like paper, exposing the nuclear warhead to a warm golden light—and then, they were "purified".

Those heavy element nuclei that would have released destructive energy within a second instantly lost their radioactivity under the illumination of the purifying light.

Like a piece of white cloth stained with ink being soaked in clear water, the ink washes away, and the water turns murky—

A nuclear warhead was reduced to several tons of ordinary scrap iron and lead blocks, which fell from the sky and crashed onto the wasteland outside the city with a dull thud.

The second one.

The third one.

The same process.

Three lumps of scrap metal, three muffled thuds.

Three pits, several meters deep, have appeared in the wilderness outside the city, with twisted metal debris and scattered ore fragments piled at the bottom.

There is no radiation, no pollution, and no residue that is harmful to humans and the environment.

Even the wild grass in the wasteland only had a few stalks broken off in the patch that was hit.

Yun Yi withdrew his right hand.

The light at my fingertips slowly faded, like the last wisp of morning breeze brushing past my fingertips.

He hovered in mid-air, looking down at his palm.

There was a very fine crack in the palm of my hand—extending from the base of my index finger all the way to my wrist, like the crackle on porcelain, faintly visible in the warm golden light.

Overuse.

The power of Xi Sheng Yuan Tong had only taken shape within him a few months ago, and its foundation was still shallow.

Covering an entire city and purifying three nuclear warheads in one go is still too much of a stretch for the "age" of this identity.

But it's worth it.

He landed slowly, his bare feet touching the ground of the garden.

The moon-white divine robe receded like the tide, revealing the casual clothes underneath.

His platinum blonde short hair gradually turned black, returning to its original color.

The gilded pupils gradually darkened, returning to clear black eyes.

The warm golden light surrounding him dissipated in the morning breeze.

Six-year-old Yunyi stood in the garden, dressed in ordinary home clothes, barefoot, with pebbles and mud on the soles of his feet.

He looked down at his feet, then at the road leading to the villa.

Forget it, I'll just walk barefoot.

He turned and walked towards the villa.

After walking a few steps, he suddenly stopped.

Because he sensed it.

The essence of Xi Sheng Yuan Tong is being strengthened.

Unlike the kind of faith that moviegoers have when they "believe the character is a god"—this time it's the faith that "this god saved me."

The former is abstract, indirect, and distant; the latter is concrete, direct, and without any sense of distance.

The former allowed the power of Xi Sheng Yuan Tong to "take shape" within him, while the latter allowed this power to "grow" within him.

But none of these things really mattered to him.

What concerned him even more was that dozens of thin streams mixed in with those forces were far stronger and denser than the others.

Those nine reincarnators have already proven it: their "belief" far exceeds that of ordinary people by a thousand or even ten thousand times. This is why he went to such lengths to explain.

But these dozens of strands are even more concentrated.

Which of those authorized users are they?

Or is it the true native god of this world?

Yun Yi opened his eyes.

Not sure.

But their "belief" is stronger than the combined "belief" of hundreds of millions of viewers.

It even allowed him to at least triple his understanding of Xisheng Yuantong's abilities and divine power, on top of what he already possessed.

Yun Yi's lips curved slightly.

His original plan was to accumulate faith through film, and then gather strength through faith.

But now, he seems to have returned to his original path—real miracles, miracles that need no explanation and are witnessed by everyone.

This was his initial idea, but he abandoned it because of this somewhat messed-up world.

But now, it seems we've been forced to start this idea again.

Yun Yi took a deep breath, suppressing the slight sense of pride in his heart, and continued to sense.

Then he froze.

Because within those dozens of milky-white torrents of "belief," he sensed another kind of power.

A form of energy he had encountered before but had never used.

Rather, it is a kind of... "luck".

Golden, a very pale gold.

It's not the warm and gentle gold of Xi Sheng Yuan Tong, but a majestic and weighty pure gold with a glorious heavenly aura.

It resembles dragon energy, but is more essential, more primal, and closer to "heaven" itself.

Yun Yi narrowed his eyes.

The golden stream of fortune was extremely thin, like a strand of hair, almost indistinguishable from the milky white torrent of faith.

But its very existence caused Yun Yi's sea of ​​consciousness to tremble slightly—because that aura of fortune was exactly the same as the "fortune" of the destiny in the previous world.

Some people consider him the chosen one.

Some people don't "believe" he is a god, but rather "believe" he is the chosen one of this world, the chosen one of destiny, the one destined by heaven.

Are they the remaining reincarnators?

Or is it an authorized user?