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Chapter 78: Beyond the Deities

  As his voice fell, the small hand mirror on the long table suddenly emitted a flicker of light and shadow. The light interlaced and coalesced into the form of a small boy.

  The moment the boy appeared, he nodded to the man seated at the head of the table, addressing him in a tone that was neither humble nor arrogant: "Greetings, His Excellency the Cardinal Archbishop!"

  In terms of spiritual Status, the boy was not inferior to the Sublime One before him. Thus, he addressed him by his title rather than his name—a subtle implication: I respect your position within the Church, but not necessarily your personal level of existence.

  "Mhm. Good morning, Excellency Soleocito," the Cardinal Archbishop replied with a calm nod.

  Soleocito was the name of this Holy Artifact’s spirit, said to be given to him by his first master.

  "Good morning, Excellency Anthony Turand," the boy, Soleocito, responded.

  "Tell me what you have pried into," Anthony said, cutting the pleasantries short and getting straight to the point.

  Soleocito nodded and described everything he had glimpsed that day in detail. Upon hearing the description, Anthony’s brows knit into a tight frown, and he fell into deep thought. After a long while, he spoke:

  "A white mist permeating the upper reaches of the bloodline river? And when you tried to pry further, your spiritual intuition warned of 'Great Terror' and 'Great Danger'?"

  "Yes," Soleocito confirmed.

  "A wise choice. If that boy truly is a Saint nearing the level of a Great Being, the power of that mist likely approaches the level of Greatness itself."

  "Facing power that nears the divine, a reckless intrusion could easily draw the gaze of that Being. They might have erased you as a malicious interloper. The Elven race is known for being kind and pure, but that doesn't mean they won't kill—especially when you aren't even human."

  Anthony expressed his approval of Soleocito’s restraint. However, Soleocito shook his head. Anthony looked surprised, raising an eyebrow with interest. "What? You think I’m wrong?"

  "Not quite. It’s just... the feeling that mist gave me was somewhat similar to those on the sea."

  Searching for the right words, Soleocito revealed the finer details of his discovery.

  Those on the sea...

  Fog at sea was normal, but for it to be singled out by Soleocito meant it was anything but ordinary. There was only one possibility: he was referring to the Mist of the Lost that shrouded the entire Sea of God-Forsaken.

  In an instant, Cardinal Archbishop Anthony’s pupils contracted. He sat bolt upright, his expression becoming exceptionally grave. He immediately addressed the three Deans standing respectfully at the far end of the table, who were listening in total confusion.

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  "Leave us. Now."

  His voice carried an unquestionable authority. Once the Deans had exited and closed the door, the Archbishop looked at the boy with a solemn intensity.

  "Are you certain?"

  "I cannot be positive. I am unable to confirm with one hundred percent certainty that the two are of the same origin," Soleocito said, spreading his hands with a troubled expression.

  "Then why wasn't this discovery included in the report submitted previously?" Anthony narrowed his eyes.

  "I only realized the connection after reflecting on the event. By then, I already knew you would be coming personally, so I thought a face-to-face exchange would be more efficient."

  The room fell into silence. Eventually, Anthony let out a long breath and leaned back into his chair, his voice carrying an inexplicable weight.

  "If the two are indeed of the same origin, then a Being capable of manipulating that Mist—intercepting a fragment of it and placing it elsewhere... I think you know what I’m implying."

  "Many can disturb that mist—you or I, for instance. But to intercept it? That undoubtedly requires the Great Power of a Deity."

  "In other words, either the Being who bestowed that bloodline upon the boy has successfully Uplifted the Divine Throne, or the Progenitor of the Elven race has made a move. If it's the former, perhaps we should change our title for the boy. He wouldn't be a 'Saint'... but a 'God-Child' (Son of God)."

  "If it's the latter..." Anthony paused before continuing. "Our records of the Elven Progenitor are too scarce. We only know He is the incarnation of the World Tree and one of the oldest deities in this world. But even from those fragments, His Status is not hard to deduce. One ancient codex records such a passage:"

  


  The Saint stood by the God’s side, speaking with humility and devotion: "Great God, those ignorant and self-depraved lambs dare to question Your greatness, believing You are not the greatest existence in this world. Such blasphemous words, full of original sin, dare to appear in Your pasture. Therefore, I implore Your permission to bring Divine Punishment upon those heretics."

  God said: "Those lambs lost in sin are not wrong. There are existences even above the Deities—Beings more Great than the Great."

  The Saint was terrified, kneeling in humility to listen.

  God said: "First, the Pillar of the World, the Lord of Life. Second, the Primordial Chaos, the Lord of the Deep Sea. And... the half-Lord of the Night."

  After reciting the passage, Anthony sighed. "The 'Pillar of the World, Lord of Life' undoubtedly refers to the Elven World Tree. The second is the one in the deep sea; it is precisely because of His awakening that the Mist has shrouded the world. As for the 'half'... that refers to the Evil God of the Night. Why only half? The God did not say."

  Soleocito’s body of condensed light suddenly exploded into a spray of luminescence. It took a long while for him to reform his human shape. His youthful face was filled with horror, his form trembling from the sheer weight of these high-level secrets.

  Deities were already unimaginably great existences to him. And above the Deities, there were Beings "more Great than the Great"? He couldn't imagine it—no, he couldn't even process the thought.

  Pop! His newly formed body exploded again. After several repetitions, he finally calmed down.

  This revelation answered many of his inner doubts. For example: why could the nine Orthodox Gods, even working together, not completely eradicate the Mist at sea, but only hold it back 500 kilometers from the coastline?

  It was because that Mist originated from an existence more grand than the Gods themselves. I see... so that's why.

  After a long recovery, he recalled their discussion about Eros. "I’ve heard the Elven Progenitor cares deeply for His kin. Perhaps that is why He intercepted a fragment of the Mist and placed it deep within the child’s bloodline—to prevent others from prying."

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