Chapter 181: I Am the God of Light, and I Do Whatever I Want

Alger Wilson closed a leather-bound notebook, glanced at the sea blanketed in white fog, and summoned the power of wind to coil around himself, hovering before the window.

He admired the white, endless world outside, his soul feeling serene, thoughts spreading in all directions; gradually, he slowly closed his eyes, savoring this moment.

Though the Sonia Sea did not often have thick fog like the Mist Sea, during autumn and winter mornings, the northern regions still periodically drifted dense, not-thin fog.

His vessel, the "Azure Avenger," was crossing the fog-covered sea along the boundary of Sounia Island, returning to the Ruin coast; this time he must report to the Storm Church, and more importantly, he needed to hurry and complete the remaining preparations.

Alger methodically planned his future schedule in his mind: stockpiling supplies, the Storm Church's wartime missions, wartime opportunities—and most crucially, the task assigned by Mr. Fool.

For a church member who had long spent his life on the ocean, rescuing civilians might not concern him much, but he could dispatch his subordinates to maintain order in Byam.

No

Not enough—he must stand out conspicuously, yet once war begins, the Storm Church will also act.

The tasks from his two superiors might conflict.

Alger's thoughts grew slightly disordered; he felt he needed time to untangle them, to fulfill Mr. Fool's mission to the fullest while also fulfilling the Storm Church's duties.

Suddenly, his gaze sharpened, a faint silver gleam flashing in his pupils—he saw a massive, sail-furled vessel silently glide through the distant fog.

The vessel was not alone; many similar ships followed behind, forming a long fleet, their hulls streaked with patchy crimson rust, indicating the presence of high-rank Hunters on board.

At least one Sequence 4 Ironblood Knight was aboard.

"War has arrived," Alger floated down onto the deck, gazing solemnly as the silent fleet sailed toward the Kingdom of Ruin.

Sounia Island was one of the triggers for this war; it held critical strategic value for both the Kingdom of Ruin and the Vosk Empire.

If Ruin seized it, Vosk's eastern navy would be trapped in the frozen north, unable to contest Sounia Sea's colonial islands, and Vosk's ground forces would have to detour nearly a thousand kilometers around mountain ranges to launch an attack.

If Vosk occupied Sounia Island, every port in northern and central Ruin would fall within its strategic strike range, and even the capital, Beckland, could be subjected to Vosk's aerial bombardment at any time.

In fact, this strategic rivalry between the two nations had lasted over twenty years—but this time—

Recalling the news he learned at the Tarot Meeting, Alger felt his limbs turn icy.

A war involving deities—this one would not end peacefully; it would be far more violent than the countless minor skirmishes of the past two decades.

The storm has come.

8:00 a. m., inside the Nightingale Tavern.

Duren Eso, Deputy Minister of the Sifa Force and former owner of the Nightingale Tavern, was organizing a team-building event with his personal subordinate, Elsha.

He couldn't fathom what that angel was thinking—he shouldn't try to decipher the logic of a mythic being; perhaps it was ritual necessity, or perhaps some deeper purpose.

But who cared? Duren Eso touched a letter in his chest pocket, on which were written the formulas and ritual conditions for Sequence 3, the Chaotic Hunter.

That angel had already given him ample rewards, even promising to provide the main materials based on his contributions—his official duties? What official duties?

"Isn't my official duty simply to arrange everything for Lord Saliel and seek information on the Original Moon Worshipers?"

Deputy Minister absent during work hours? Isn't there a Minister? Who would bother tracking where a deputy with no hope of promotion went today?

As for whether this angel harbored some earth-shattering conspiracy—that's the Church and the Kingdom's high command's concern. He was already beyond control; better to focus on maximizing his own gains.

Hmm. And He has ties to the Night Church—perhaps I could also defect to the Night Church.

"Didn't those children come?" Duren Eso asked Mecarou, who had arrived in casual attire: "Mr. Saliel prepared gifts for the minors."

Mecarou fell silent, shook her head, and glanced around: "Isn't the new boss here?"

"No, Mr. Saliel won't be here today," Duren Eso said, glancing at his watch, then politely gestured for her to proceed.

Mecarou shook her head, speaking with a hint of apology:

"Today is Naluo's birthday—I must return to celebrate with him."

"If you could, please thank Mr. Saliel for his kindness."

Duren Eso watched Mecarou: "You could have brought them along too."

"There are too many of them," Mecarou said, her eyes filled with longing as she gazed, slightly dazed, at the bustling tavern.

"I'm going home now."

Duren Eso nodded; Mecarou's presence subtly faded from his perception—this girl disliked being in the public eye. He knew some basics but didn't wish to interfere too much.

As the former owner, he had only offered her a job after she refused to join an official organization; thanks to her, he earned about a hundred pounds extra monthly.

Of course, if she remained under him and a situation arose where her abilities could be used, he would exploit them—Sequence 7 Adepts weren't beyond further cultivation.

"I hope this angel brings gospel, not the abyss," Duren Eso sighed, then shook off his gloom and began guiding the staff toward entertainment activities.

Becland, Hillsdon District, Seventh Avenue, Starlight Church.

Miss Kelaien walked down the aisle toward the Great Prayer Hall, gradually removing his disguise to reveal his true face.

Along the way, narrow high windows were inlaid with delicate blue and red patterns, letting in strands of morning light dyed in color—blue nearly black, red like the moon—casting the surroundings in an unusually dark, eerie glow.

Night churches across regions were largely similar, but this one's style most closely resembled the headquarters of the Tinggen Night Church, Saint Selina's.

Miss Kelaien glanced at the Night Church emblem on the altar, then lowered his head, clasped his hands, and began his prayer:

"O Night Goddess, higher than the starry heavens, older than eternity—you are the Mother of Secrets, the Empress of Misfortune and Fear."

Moments later, a female figure emerged from the church's prayer chamber, clad in a simple linen robe, tied with a bark belt, long black hair unbound, barefoot and unshod.

The leader of the Night Church's ascetics, the Earthly Angel, Arianna.

Unlike before, her usually serene face now showed surprise and confusion: "The Goddess instructed me to assist you and the other two."

"The deity?"

Becland, King's Avenue, Selenco Restaurant.

Zhongli set down his utensils, wiped his lips, and gently said to the head chef, Lampero:

"Thank you for today's lunch."

"Don't mention it," Lampero chuckled. "Though we had another reservation earlier, your willingness to use the same menu is a great help."

The middle-aged man, with reddish hair and muscular arms, laughed heartily, bowed in his white chef's uniform toward Zhongli.

"Are you short on staff?" Zhongli asked.

"Everyone—even those on leave—has been recalled," Lampero patted his chest, giving a reassuring gesture. "We can fully handle today's banquet."

"That's good." Zhongli smiled, picked up the towel a server had brought over, wiped his palms, and walked toward the door.

A tall young female chef with short golden hair hurried out from the corridor, a small box in her hands.

"Good morning, Miss Lucia." Zhongli greeted Lucia as she ran over.

"Good morning! Mr. Mora!" Lucia held up the small box with both hands, her face flushed red. "This is a dessert cake I just made. Might you have a moment to try it?"

"Lucia!" Lanpeiluo was about to scold her, but seeing Zhongli raise his hand to stop him, he swallowed the rest of what he wanted to say.

"What a coincidence — I was just craving something sweet." Zhongli took the cake box from Lucia's hands. "May the Goddess bless you with a wonderful day, Miss Lucia."

"When I come by at noon, I'll tell you what I think of this cake."

I'd much rather it be your thoughts of me.

Lucia nodded, watching Zhongli's back as he walked toward the Serenzo restaurant hall and then left, her mind drifting into fantasy.

Zhongli left the restaurant, took a carriage along King's Avenue, and arrived at Anniversary Square.

The Kingdom's Upper and Lower Parliaments, the various departments, City Hall, and the Royal Treasury were all located here. The square was also filled with many early-rising pedestrians — civil servants, students, workers — all streaming off in every direction.

Zhongli walked toward the fountain at the center. Along the way he startled a flock of white pigeons into flight. He found a long bench by a flower bed and sat down, the cake box Lucia had just given him cradled in his hands.

Withered yellow Intis plane tree leaves drifted on the wind. He opened the small box in his hands. Inside was a small piece of red rose cake, with animal cream on top inscribed in Loen script: "May you have a wonderful day." Beside it sat a small wooden spoon.

The corner of Zhongli's mouth curved into a faint smile. He picked up the wooden spoon and quietly tasted it.

"Sir, you certainly are in fine spirits." A black-haired, brown-eyed man sat down on the other end of the bench where Zhongli sat, pouring a cup of hot tea from the lid of his thermos into its cup-shaped cover.

He held the lid of hot tea out toward Zhongli. "Tea I just brewed. Care for a cup?"

Zhongli glanced at the man, reached out, and took the lid. "Thank you, Mr. Benson."

Benson was stunned for a moment and asked in surprise, "You know me?"

"I know your brother Miss Kelaien. He once introduced you to me." Zhongli set down the wooden spoon, looked at the deep red tea, and said:

"Don't you have to go to work?"

"You must be one of his colleagues." A flicker of sadness passed through Benson's eyes, then he laughed. "My brother always said every minute at the office is billed — showing up early won't get you a raise."

"Especially for employees like us."

"That sounds like him," Zhongli said with certainty.

Five minutes later, Zhongli finished the cake, drained the hot tea in one gulp, and handed the lid back to Benson.

Benson glanced at the time on his watch — two minutes to 9:00.

He capped the lid, tipped his hat in farewell, and said, "I'm cutting it close for work. May you have a wonderful day."

"Mr. Benson." Zhongli spoke slowly, smiling as he said:

"Every parting will have its day of reunion."

Benson was stunned for a moment, then smiled and answered with certainty, "Yes."

Backlund, North District, St. Samuel Cathedral.

Su Lin crouched at the top of the cathedral, a bronze bell engraved with stars and a crescent moon hanging above his head. His gaze was fixed on the horizon — the place where the sun rose.

A thick bank of clouds on the horizon began drifting toward Backlund, as if blown by the wind, but moving extremely slowly.

Unlike the Clan's World, where it didn't matter what he did — Lu Mingfei's future couldn't be worse than his past, and even if he acted as he pleased, someone would clean up the mess.

This time, it's different.

Come to think of it, the process by which he gained power had basically been a leapfrog affair. In less than two years, when Su Lin said he was number two in the group, no one dared fight him for that spot.

Going from frugality to luxury is easy. Without realizing it, he had already adapted to his current power, and in such a short time, the things he had experienced were neither few nor small.

But the moment he thought of the scene he was about to witness with his own eyes, his mood couldn't lift either.

Su Lin was no stranger to war — he had risen to prominence through the Marineford War of the pirate world. Compared to this war, the scale of the wars in the pirate world was far smaller.

But really, none of this had much to do with him. Wasn't he just a passerby?

Sometimes he actually envied Ah Zu. If he had Ah Zu's personality, he'd just take the benefits and leave, do whatever he wanted, and be happy doing it.

'I'm the God of Light — I can do whatever the hell I want!'

Su Lin shook his head, tossing the tangled thoughts out of his mind.

His software mindset wasn't compatible, and his hardware strength didn't support it either — unless he could trample the Seven Gods and tear apart the Old Ones with his bare hands. Unfortunately, that might still take over a decade; with bad luck, several decades wasn't certain either.

Su Lin turned his gaze toward Backlund Technical University not far away.

Yellowed withered leaves drifted down on the autumn wind. Students, some hugging books, some carrying bags, came and went across the campus.

This time was different. These were all common folk just like his past self — not pirates, not Marines.

"Sigh."

With a long sigh, Su Lin pulled the bell rope and rang the ancient bell.

Boom—

Boom—

The distant tolling of the bell — Su Lin's appearance dissolved into the void like a mirage, shifting from a blue-eyed, golden-haired youth back to his original look of black hair and black eyes.

Deep within his pupils, light seemed to bloom like flower buds, then in an instant dyed itself platinum-white. Behind him, particles of light gathered, forming six resplendent wings of light.

Su Lin smiled toward Backlund Technical University.

Suddenly, his form collapsed, transforming into white orbs of light the size of marbles, rolling and bouncing from the spire along the red-tiled eaves, falling toward the streets, the rooftops of houses, and every corner of the campus.

Backlund Technical University was Loen's institution of higher learning. As the first class of students at this newly established university, these young people were full of vigor, full of longing for the future, gathering every day to discuss ideals, recite poetry, and study technology — simple and happy.

Melissa Mo Leidi walked among the students. She heard the bell from the direction of the cathedral, looked up at the top of St. Samuel Cathedral before entering, and her footsteps stopped without her meaning them to.

"An angel."