Chapter 190: Face First

Ang summoned his soul armor, which condensed into two… hoes on his palms—it was time to use the zombie's ultimate technique. He bent over, rapidly alternating his hands, and vast amounts of soil erupted like a magical pump, spewing outward and quickly clearing a large area.

Beneath the surface lay vast rocks, but these rocks were strange—irregular in shape and contour; how to describe them? Like a water mass striking a single point and splashing outward, then instantly petrified.

After Ang cleared away all the surrounding soil, he suddenly realized: yes, a water mass had struck a single point—and that "point" was a person, whose entire body was wrapped in splashed water that had hardened into stone, leaving only his hands and feet exposed.

His consciousness swept over his feet, clearly perceiving the internal textures of skin, muscle, and bone.

Nagris stared at the petrified man, then glanced at the temple entrance, guessing: "Could it be that the angel statue fired some weapon or skill, petrifying this man? But if a Holy Angel launched the attack, why did the angel itself also turn to stone?"

Xiamala touched the exposed hands and feet of the petrified man and said: "Unless he is the God of Scales."

"Huh? The God of Scales? The Sacred Balance, beneath which all things are equal—impossible? Why would the Holy Spirits attack their own god?" Nagris exclaimed in shock, firing off a string of questions.

"Only then would the God of Scales petrify, and the attacker would petrify with him," Xiamala said matter-of-factly.

Nagris was skeptical but half-believed; she now suspected Xiamala had awakened some divine ability related to perception, with an extremely strong premonition. If she felt this petrified man was the God of Scales, it was almost certainly true.

But if true, it raised another question: why would the Holy Spirits attack their own god?

Xiamala shook her head: "I don't know. Maybe they were hurt."

As they spoke, Ang silently summoned the Scythe of Death, gesturing it near the statue's neck, as if about to strike down.

"No! Stop! Halt!" Fortunately, Nagris noticed in time and shouted a series of commands to halt Ang's motion.

Ang tilted his head in confusion.

"Don't cut! If he really is the God of Scales, that one swing will apply equality to you—your soul gets sliced too. Don't cut. Test first."

Ang tilted his head again.

"Cast Purification on him. Holy light won't harm him. If he absorbs the Holy light and reflects it back onto you, then he's the God of Scales."

After speaking, Nagris muttered in confusion: "Logically, the Sacred Balance is a suicide technique. As a Light Supreme God, casually equating himself with enemies—that's a terrible deal for him."

Xiamala gave a puzzled expression: "Don't use it against weak enemies. Only use it when you can't win. Simple."

"Pfft… you make perfect sense. So this God of Scales is actually the God of Double Standards—pulls out the rule when he wants to use it, hides it when he doesn't. Damn it." Nagris was furious; apparently all these Light Supreme Gods were sneaky, deceitful types.

Xiamala gave a strange look: "You seem to misunderstand gods. Gods become gods because they wield power—not because they are fair or just. Without power, no matter how fair or just, they aren't gods."

"Huh?!" Nagris was stunned by Xiamala's words. While such views were popular among mages and the atheist factions of the Star Republic, they shouldn't come from Xiamala's mouth: "You shouldn't say this. Aren't you a devout believer?"

"Yes, I am a devout believer. I worship Light. I seek pure light. When it's no longer pure, it's no longer the light I seek. The gods betrayed me." Xiamala spoke as if stating an obvious truth, unaware that the holy flames on her body had darkened slightly.

This conversation shook Nagris profoundly. Suddenly, she understood why she had lost her fanatics, why Xiamala had fallen—she herself had truly misunderstood "gods."

Gods became gods because they possessed power—not the other way around. The idea that one could become a god merely by adapting to rules was wrong.

If, back then, I hadn't possessed the power of the Bronze Dragon, could I have become a god? If I hadn't secretly used my power to help those fools cheat on exams, could I have become a god? If…

Nagris thought and thought—many things she had never understood now became clear.

A god gains power, establishes a set of rules, and upholds them. More and more people adapt to these rules, worship them, integrate into them, and become part of the system.

The god's power grows stronger, and the rules become more stable.

When these rules benefit everyone, believers will spontaneously protect, uphold, and practice them—and all who oppose them will be destroyed.

Eventually, the system runs on inertia—even if the Light gods vanished for a thousand years, it still operated automatically.

This, Nagris realized, was the true internal logic of divine power. She had always been wrong.

But what good did understanding it do? "I'm already a lesser god…" Nagris sighed in despair.

As Nagris lamented, Ang had already begun casting Purification on the God of Scales. Each Purification spell peeled away a thin layer of stone, turning it to ash that drifted away.

But the purification was painfully slow—each time only removing a paper-thin layer, even thinner than when the little angel recovered. Any other priest or holy maiden would have been helpless; even if they purified until death, they couldn't remove the stone casing.

But Ang was no ordinary priest. He had forgotten his original goal, fixated on the God of Scales and the stone encasing him. Day one, day two, day three—after a full week, the stone that had exploded like a water splash was completely purified away.

During this time, the Dome of Light cracked twice—each time just as the Wind of Rest began to blow. "Cracked" didn't mean a gaping hole—it meant a sudden flicker of instability, then gradual stabilization.

Ang could probably smash through it by flying up and punching it a few times.

Once Nagris noticed this periodic pattern, she relaxed—she no longer feared being trapped here.

After Ang purified the surface stone, the full form of the God of Scales was revealed: the statue stood with arms outstretched horizontally at his sides, feet slightly apart on the ground—exactly the posture described in the Holy Scripture as the Sacred Balance.

He had received this attack—a strike capable of petrifying gods—with the Sacred Balance stance.

Ang summoned Holy light again and smeared it over the statue.

When the Purification spell touched him again, the God of Scales did not turn to ash—his color faded slightly, and at the same time, a speck of Holy light landed on Ang.

"Hss… It truly affected you equally. He really is the God of Scales? Keep going—will he wake up?" Nagris exclaimed in shock, yet felt a stirring urge.

The God of Scales—this was the only surviving Light god. If he could be revived, wouldn't all questions be answered?

But the thought flashed through Nagris's mind and vanished instantly: "Forget it. Too dangerous. Bury him again. I don't want to face a waking Light Supreme God."

Xiamala walked over, circled behind the statue, and pressed her palm against its back: "Keep going. When he awakens, he won't be a pure Supreme God anymore."

"You want to corrupt him? Huh—this is a good idea. You corrupt him, he corrupts you. But you're already dark enough—you won't be harmed. Once he's corrupted, he can't use Light power easily. Brilliant."

Nagris clapped in admiration. Was this the key to breaking the Sacred Balance? Corrupt the God of Scales to your own level, then defeat him with experience?

Highly feasible. But for safety, Nagris decided to leave first—try this outside the divine realm. That way, if the God of Scales truly revived, they'd only face his own power.

If they tried here and he could activate the entire Heaven's defense systems, it would be disastrous.

Having decided to leave, Nagris immediately realized she'd overlooked something: "We have no Void Stones…"

On the way down, they'd relied on Void Stones to support the first half of the journey, barely enduring the final few kilometers—especially since they were descending, so speed was faster.

Now, without Void Stones, Baihou would have to fly upward against the Wind of Rest, cross the gravity midpoint, then descend again—tens of thousands of meters. Impossible to survive.

"I'm an idiot. Now what? We can't go back." Nagris was stunned.

This mistake was too severe—it could trap Ang here forever. What to do? What to do?

Nagris pondered this problem for two full days.

Ang didn't care at all. To unearth the God of Scales, he'd turned the entire Square of Gods inside out, exposing bare soil. Looking at the black, oily earth that oozed when squeezed, Ang had no desire to leave.

During those two days of Nagris's contemplation, Ang leveled the square, divided it into plots, and built raised ridges.

In the center, he planted a World Tree. The area closest to it, he planted Spirit Beans. The rest, he sowed every seed he possessed.

Throughout the process, Ang didn't even use his Rapid Death Aura—once planted, the seeds immediately entered rapid growth. In just two days, they'd grown halfway.

For example, Saltwater Demon Rice normally took four months to mature—yet in two days, it had grown halfway. That meant only four days total to harvest—thirty times faster.

Though not as fast as the Rapid Death Aura, it was natural growth—and Spirit Beans could be accelerated too.

If they could grow Spirit Beans here, in one year they'd enter peak yield, and over a year of continuous harvests, they could reap thirty cycles—this was the perfect place to grow Spirit Beans.

Ang uprooted all other crops and replanted only Spirit Beans. He had over four hundred seeds; he sowed three hundred, kept one hundred as backup.

Watching Ang happily busy, Nagris, who had agonized for two days, laughed bitterly: "So fun? Just stay here and farm. Don't go back."

Ang nodded.

"Nod your damn head! If we don't go back, the little angel and the little zombie will come looking for you. Don't you care about them?" Nagris asked.

Ang shook his head.

"Then why plant? You need to water them! They take a year to mature—you'll stay here a year? A year without water and they'll dry up!" Nagris snapped.

"No watering needed," Ang said.

"No watering?" Nagris froze. Soil that grows crops without water?

Ang nodded. For two days, he hadn't watered anything—and the crops still grew.

"Then dig some up? This is valuable stuff!" So even the dirt of this once-poor Holy Heaven was precious.

"Already dug." Nagris didn't need to remind him—he'd already dug up heaps and piled them in the corner of the farm. But compared to the millions of tons of soil here, what he dug was negligible.

"You're quick to react when it comes to farming. But think—how do we get back? You just leave me, a dragon, here straining my brain."

Ang tilted his head, then pointed upward at the temple roof: "Like them."

Nagris mentally slapped herself hard. Damn it—she'd never thought of that. How had the Holy Angels reached the Abyss of Rest?

The Heavenly Stairway. They could try using the Heavenly Stairway to return.

Sometimes fixed thinking limits perspective—especially among the knowledgeable. Knowledge itself can constrain thought. Nagris was such a case; in her fixed mindset, the Heavenly Stairway was only for deploying Holy Angels—she'd never considered using it for travel.

Ang's words shattered that limitation. Nagris immediately thought—she rushed to the stairway tower atop the temple, studied it, and deduced how to activate it.

"Holy light. Massive amounts of Holy light. That's what activates it. Thank goodness—it's set up the same as last time. We don't need to adjust it. We don't know the parameters; messing with it could break it."

Nothing else mattered—Ang had the most Holy light, even endless supply. Though different in origin from the Church's Holy light, the Heavenly Stairway was just a dead object—it didn't care.

The Sacred Stairway activated. A beam of light shot skyward, crossed the gravity midpoint, and landed in the Abyss of Rest.

"Send up a Heavy Zombie first," Nagris said. Test whether the Heavenly Stairway could transport undead, whether they'd be injured.

On the Abyss of Rest side, at the landing point, everyone had received the soul message and prepared for reception.

Whoosh—the Heavy Zombie dissolved into specks of light, sucked upward by the beam.

Soon, a soul message confirmed the Heavy Zombie landed safely. Ang continued pouring Holy light, then let Xiamala enter and activate the transport.

After receiving confirmation that Xiamala landed safely, Ang stepped into the beam himself and activated it.

He felt the entire world turn to light, pulled by this beam, hurtling toward some destination at high speed.

Amidst the white light, streaks of different-colored light wove through. Instinctively, Ang extended his Interdimensional Hand and grabbed at the colored streaks—five or six caught in his grasp.

Simultaneously, the white light shattered. The Heavenly Stairway's beam flickered—and vanished.

CRASH—Ang landed headfirst, face slamming into the ground, cracking a deep crater.