Chapter 96: Forging Immortality

Wu Chang stared at the key in his hand, a look of confusion on his face.

No way, bro, now that I have this, why do I still need you?

Why are you still posting tasks here? Don't you even understand who you are or what situation you're in yet?

Eberth noticed Wu Chang's confusion and asked, "Any other questions? Speak quickly—I'm tired."

Wu Chang shook his head. "No more questions. Rest well."

Saying this, he reactivated "Plaguebringer" and "Wardbreaker."

Just as Eberth felt his body improving, the plague returned with even greater force—he rolled his eyes back and fainted instantly.

Wu Chang sneered, turned away, his face flooded with panic.

He sprinted to the door and shouted outside, "Nurse! Nurse! Professor Eberth is dying!"

Ten minutes later, the plague successfully defeated Professor Eberth.

This master scholar of theology and history in the Kingdom of Orgre died mysteriously in a crude hospital room on a deserted island.

Why could Wu Chang be certain Eberth died mysteriously?

Because this old professor, whose will and insight differed from ordinary men, left behind a bloodstained last message.

The message did not cling to his body—it clung to the lighthouse key he had been given.

The color of the bloodstained message was not ordinary red, but deep crimson.

Wu Chang said to the young nurse beside him, "Life is unpredictable, isn't it?"

The nurse nodded. She wanted to say something, but didn't know how to begin.

Wu Chang sighed. "He was an elder worthy of my respect. His death has deeply saddened me. So I need some comfort."

The nurse blushed, just as before, and embraced Wu Chang.

"You truly are an angel in white."

After once again feeling the girl's innocence, Wu Chang left the town hospital, humming a tune as he walked toward the lighthouse by the sea.

The seaside lighthouse stood about fourteen meters tall, with five floors.

The lighthouse was built by Count Jemaine when he first arrived on Briver Island, primarily to guide passing merchant ships.

Later, when the Briver Port developed and no longer needed the lighthouse for navigation, its top floor was sealed off and entrusted to Professor Eberth for stellar research.

The lighthouse keeper's main duty was maintaining its normal operation—including upkeep of interior and exterior facilities—but did not actually operate the lighthouse.

When Wu Chang reached the shore, he saw Ji Feng helping the old lighthouse keeper clean accumulated bird droppings from the tower's exterior.

Jian Xing had already told the other assistants about Wu Chang becoming town councilor, along with Wu Chang's speculation about the Good-Evil value.

Because of this, Ji Feng was working extra diligently and hadn't noticed Wu Chang approaching.

He didn't care about becoming a councilor—he only wanted his Good-Evil value to be high enough to avoid being attacked by townsfolk.

As town councilor, Wu Chang felt satisfied seeing Ji Feng work hard, so he decided to let him rest for a while.

He put on the Shadowmask, summoned the Mist Wraith, and whispered, "Let them sleep."

A wave crashed against the cliff beside the lighthouse, exploding into a spray of mist.

The Mist Wraith wrapped itself in the spray, becoming a cold wind that engulfed Ji Feng and the lighthouse keeper.

Under the fifteen-level Mist Wraith's power, the two offered no resistance—their heads lolled, and they slipped into the illusion realm, asleep.

Wu Chang gestured and recalled the Mist Wraith, then walked openly into the lighthouse.

He climbed the interior stairs—ordinary wooden doors lined the path, yet they opened automatically as he approached, welcoming him.

The top floor was an observatory, housing a large telescope, surrounded by Eberth's manuscripts recording celestial trajectories and his chaotic interpretations of star patterns.

These manuscripts looked flashy and convincingly scholarly, but were all illusions—mere decoys for unexpected visitors.

Wu Chang took out the key Eberth had given him, closed his eyes, followed his intuition, and inserted the key into the star map painted on the wall.

As the key slid in, a clicking sound of mechanical gears echoed from the lighthouse's top floor.

Looking out through the floor-to-ceiling window on the observatory side, Wu Chang saw the entire top floor rotating.

The top floor rotated one hundred eighty degrees; after a distinct jolt when the machinery halted, the lighthouse fell silent again.

Outside, the clear blue sky visible through the window had transformed into a vast, deep starfield.

He had entered the lighthouse's inner world.

Descending from the top floor, he saw the inner-world lighthouse filled with all manner of alchemical devices and occult ritual tools.

The entire lighthouse resembled a vast alchemical workshop.

At the center of the first floor stood a massive obsidian slab, engraved with a complex human figure.

The figure was precise down to every vein and every muscle—just looking at it, one would assume it was the most advanced anatomy textbook from the parallel plane.

Around the figure, dense annotations covered every inch, labeling each region and part with the materials required to construct it.

Only upon close inspection did one realize this was not an anatomy diagram—it was an assembly blueprint.

Not a human body—no, a divine body's assembly blueprint.

Any other player would be stunned by this discovery, but Wu Chang, having already seen Eberth's resentment, had already prepared himself.

He stared at the massive obsidian slab, yet his gaze returned to Eberth's resentment.

Eberth's resentment ran deep—not the fleeting resentment of a dying man, but a lifetime's accumulation, infused with every ounce of his bitterness.

…In an office, an elderly man in a professor's robe hurled a thick stack of manuscripts into the fireplace and shouted angrily:

"Laughable! The gods are supreme beings, born divine—how dare mortal hands probe their domain? This is sacrilege! Eberth, you commit such blasphemy—do you honor your faith? You deserve hanging more than those pirates!"

"Get out! Orgre First University has no place for a traitor like you."

…

A squad of fully armed knights kicked open the barn door and dragged out a thin middle-aged man, dragging him like a dead dog.

The lead knight stomped on the man's face, pointing at the barn's piles of bones, stone slabs, and strange antique artifacts, shouting:

"Burn this blasphemous place to the ground! Then bind this damned blasphemer and send him to the Tribunal of Heretics!"

……

In the dungeon, on the cold stone floor, the Archbishop in a black robe paid a solitary visit late at night. He spoke to the middle-aged man on the ground, who was covered in wounds and barely clinging to life:

"I read your thesis. Quite interesting. I can give you a chance. Would you like to try?"

The next day, a heretic with a burlap sack over his head was hanged in front of the cathedral.

The day after, a group of convicts serving heavy sentences broke out of prison, rampaging through the city in a great slaughter, with the dead and wounded numbering no less than several hundred. Coincidentally, every friend, colleague, and acquaintance of the middle-aged man—including the neighbor who had reported him, and the Knight Commander who had arrested him—all perished in this human-caused disaster.

!

One month later, Archbishop Gilman personally brought a church scholar to Ogri First University, appointing him as a professor of theology and archaeology.

……

Beneath Ogri's Holy Light Cathedral, a little girl opened her eyes, wrapped in complex instruments. She neither cried nor fussed, simply smiling as she looked at the man in the distance.

The man instinctively waved at her, a smile on his face that he hadn't worn in years.

But behind him, Archbishop Gilman stared at the golden crystal at the terminal end of the ritual, his expression dark.

"We've failed. The soul is indeed born bearing original sin—even an artificial soul is no exception. This defective product can only serve as a vessel for the Holy Stigmata; it cannot manifest the Stigmata's power."

For the first time, the man spoke from within his grievance: "Then what will become of her?"

Archbishop Gilman said coldly, "Disassemble her. Recycle her."

……

In the Holy Light Cathedral, the man taught the little girl beside him while scribbling and sketching in a notebook.

The little girl finished her homework, ran over, and asked, "Professor, what are you doing?"

The man smiled somewhat awkwardly. "Professors have their own homework too."

……

The little girl's body had grown a size larger, looking to be about three or four years old. She lay in the center of the instruments, gazing around with a face full of wonder.

"Professor, when I wake up, will I really be able to see the Holy Mother?"

The professor nodded.

Outside the ritual, Archbishop Gilman's face was stern: "This matter concerns both your future and mine. The Holy Stigmata must be removed."

As the ritual began, the sleeping little girl let out a pained moan. The man's face showed reluctance; taking advantage of Gilman's inattention, he adjusted some detail of the ritual.

Five minutes later, the golden crystal shattered, and the ritual failed.

The man said in a dispirited voice, "The Holy Stigmata has already fused into her original sin. Forced removal risks damaging the Stigmata."

Archbishop Gilman's face showed disappointment. He shook his head, though his tone carried a hint of relief: "Then we can only find a way to put the waste to use."

……

At the king's banquet, the newly discovered Saint of the church became the center of every eye.

She was favored by the gods from birth. Though only eight years old, her smile was enough to sway even the most vicious of villains. In just one year, she had won the love of everyone in the kingdom, high and low.

Even the Pope's influence could not compare to hers.

The man sat in a corner of the banquet hall, watching the Saint at the center of the crowd from afar. He pulled out his notebook with a lonely air and began to scribble and sketch.

A nobleman with eyes as sharp as an eagle's sat down beside the man and said in a flat tone, "I know your research, and I know you haven't given up. The capital is no longer suited for you. Would you like to come to my territory and try?"

……

At the Earl's estate, the man shook his head at the puppets scattered across the floor.

"The line of thinking is right, but the divine grace on the island is too weak to serve as the core of a true god."

Earl Germain walked up behind the man and said slowly, "So, we need the Holy Stigmata, don't we?"

The man stared at the broken puppets covering the floor, silent for a long while, then said in a hoarse voice, "Yes."

Earl Germain smiled. "The church's missionary fleet will be passing this island. I'll handle the matter of the Holy Stigmata."

……

On the top floor of the Earl's estate main house, Earl Germain and the man stood together. Behind them, a faceless nun puppet was rising to its feet from within an alchemical apparatus.

Germain gazed at the fire rising from the great cathedral, and at the seven phantoms gathering in the sky above Brief. He poured red wine for himself and the man.

"The Seven Deadly Sins scatter, the Holy Stigmata is stripped away, and the ritual begins. A toast—to the immortality we are about to forge."

Whoosh—darkness swallowed everything around them, and the vision within the grievance came to an end.

Wu Chang opened his eyes, and Ebert's blood-colored dying words surfaced before him.

【Destroy the ritual at Earl Germain's estate and completely liberate the Saint Eileen.】

(End of this chapter)