Chapter 113 : Chapter 113

Chapter 113. The True Disaster

Within the Spirit Realm, every region naturally gives birth to a lord. However, there are also places where the lordship can be seized by non–Spirit Realm beings.

For example, some high-tier Spirit Realm excursionists will seize a region in order to pave the way for their own advancement.

The god symbolized by the book in Fulan’s hands had done exactly that. It had “used” Fulan to seize this territory.

Though calling it “used” was not entirely accurate. It was more that the situation happened to present itself, and the god simply went along with the current.

“Does your god have a name? What is it?” Fulan asked.

Angmar was momentarily stunned. Then he burst into laughter.

“In the past, I could speak my god’s name within this hall. But now, I can only call him ‘god.’”

Hearing that answer, Fulan sighed.

She had clearly become enemies with that god.

In truth, the whole situation had begun with the other side striking first. The god worshipped by Angmar had somehow sensed the presence of another god among the participants of the trial.

Enraged by this discovery, it immediately ordered Angmar to arrest the Spirit Realm excursionists.

Its idea had been simple: strike first and gain the advantage.

But ironically, that very decision to strike first had led to the current situation.

Under normal circumstances, the trial would have proceeded differently. As outsiders, they would have been welcomed into Monsa City.

Angmar would personally explain the nature of the coming disaster, and afterward they would struggle desperately to deal with it. If they performed well, they would pass the trial.

But the interference of Angmar’s god had disrupted everything. Now they did not even know what the “disaster” actually was.

Because of that, Fulan had even spent time overthrowing the priests’ so-called “tyrannical rule.”

As a result, that god had already lost.

Meanwhile, the god that had somehow attached itself to her had won without even trying. As long as she took one small action now, the god she represented would achieve a decisive victory.

Because of this, the other Spirit Realm excursionists participating in the trial had suffered greatly. Forced by circumstance, they had ended up raising their weapons against people who should have been their allies.

Fulan suspected that the materials she had used to create the Dragonification Potion had originally been intended as assistance for this trial—resources meant to strengthen them so they could pass.

But instead, they had all been used against their own side.

Fulan cleared her throat and gathered her thoughts.

“Alright,” she said. “You can begin. Tell me what really happened. What exactly is this disaster?”

Angmar sat cross-legged and began speaking slowly.

“To explain that, we must start from the very beginning—when the temple was first established.”

“The first High Priest was originally just a child from an ordinary family. When he was born, he was not given a name. His parents feared that he might die young, and they believed giving him a name too early would be meaningless. So he grew up without one until he was eight years old, when his parents finally decided to name him the next day.”

“But the day before that, he secretly ran into the valley.”

“And there he witnessed a scene he would never forget in his entire life.”

“A giant dragon had died there. Its flesh rapidly peeled away from its body, corroding everything around it, until only the dragon’s skeleton remained.”

“At that moment, my god descended into the High Priest’s heart and told him how to deal with what he had seen. Following those instructions, he gathered everything left behind and refined it into the original material for the Divine Water—dragon blood.”

“After that, the High Priest decided never to take a name. He called himself only the High Priest, built the temple in Monsa City, and began worshipping my god.”

Angmar paused briefly before continuing.

“I do not know how you created the Divine Water, but our method was to offer the materials to the god, who would then produce it. Unfortunately, I can no longer create Divine Water now that I am alone.”

Fulan nodded. She had already known that he could not produce Divine Water.

What puzzled her was something else—why had the original High Priest been able to produce it alone?

Angmar continued speaking.

“Among those who drank the Divine Water, some grew limbs resembling those of dragons. This caused considerable chaos.”

“My god called this ‘selection.’ Those who displayed such traits after drinking the Divine Water possessed a strong affinity with dragons and were worthy of serving my god.”

Fulan nodded again. That explained why the potions she had produced showed such drastic differences in their effects.

“My god removed those dragon-like traits and brought such people into the temple to serve as priests.”

“I myself performed exceptionally and was eventually promoted to High Priest, allowing me to serve my god within the temple.”

Angmar suddenly stopped.

Then, through clenched teeth, he said, “And then that damned High Priest betrayed my god.”

When he spoke the words “High Priest” this time, he deliberately emphasized them, filled with hatred.

“His betrayal had already begun several years ago. Those who displayed strong dragon affinity were no longer brought into the temple to become priests. Instead, he secretly killed them and used their blood to advance his scheme.”

“It was only two weeks ago that his actions were fully exposed. He immediately lost my god’s protection, and High Priest Rune intended to capture him and bring him before the god so that he could atone with his life.”

“But none of us expected that even without the god’s protection, the High Priest would still possess such terrifying power. Caught completely off guard, High Priest Rune was ambushed and killed. His body was taken away.”

“Cough... cough...”

Angmar coughed violently, struggling to breathe. After resting for a moment, he continued.

“Later, my god revealed the High Priest’s plan to me.”

“He intends to truly become a dragon and shed his human body.”

“I do not know whether someone taught him the method, or whether it came from the dragon that once died here.”

“But in any case, his plan has nearly reached its final stage. Rune’s corpse may be the final piece he needs.”

“Even now, I have not found his whereabouts. He might still be within Monsa City, or he might already have left the city.”

“Once he succeeds, he will transform into a dragon, descend upon Monsa, and burn everything to ashes.”

“That is everything I know.”

Fulan frowned.

At last she had a direction to pursue—but she still had no idea how to proceed.

“Did your god tell you what to do?” she asked.

The question sounded somewhat ironic. After all, she had just driven that god out and now was asking what it had advised.

Yet she had to ask. The answer would determine whether she should press the book in her hand against the statue.

Angmar made a strange expression. After hesitating for a moment, he said,

“My god said: There is no need to interfere. Everything is merely a dream, and dreams will eventually end.”

Judging by Angmar’s hesitant expression, even he suspected that his god had lost its mind. Why would it give such advice—telling him to do absolutely nothing?

And yet, when it came to the outsiders, his god had urgently sent more than a dozen messages overnight, ordering him to kill them all.

That contradiction had already made Angmar suspicious.

Why did the god say nothing about the true enemy, yet react so aggressively toward a group of outsiders?

Because of this doubt, Angmar had not been particularly eager to carry out his god’s orders.

“So... what about your god?” he finally asked.

“Can your god save Monsa?”

At last Angmar could not hold back the question any longer.

His eyes were filled with exhaustion as he looked at Fulan with a trace of hope.