Chapter 992

The Dawn Goddess, bound into a ball by chains, couldn’t see outside and kept imagining worst-case scenarios; when she saw those bald priests, she knew exactly what they were doing—creating a Planar Will.

She was very familiar with this task, because her divine essence had been given to her by a powerful Planar Will—one she herself had created.

But because she knew it too well, she feared it even more: a being capable of breaking her Dawn Wall was definitely one such thing; every barrier had a strength limit, and if struck by a higher-energy force, no matter how hard the barrier, it would collapse.

A Planar Will was a being beyond energy levels; the moment it took form, it would be the instant she was crushed. What should she do? Would that man come back to save her?

If she had known this would happen, she never would have run away with him—staying in the Infinite Prison would have kept her alive, and she could still have listened to the believers' private gossip from time to time; life wouldn't have been so bad.

In her regret, the chains suddenly loosened, slowly retreating in all directions, as if opening something.

The Dawn Goddess’s heart tightened: Already formed this quickly?

To avoid being instantly crushed, as soon as the chains split open a crack, she shouted: “Don’t kill me! I’ll go back to the Infinite Prison! I don’t know that man! I don’t recognize him! He tricked me into leaving! It’s not my fault—”

The chains split wide open, revealing the face of “that man,” with several other heads peering out behind him.

The chains halted their movement. Anthony said coldly: “You don’t know me? Fine. Close it. Closed. We rescued the wrong person.”

The chains slowly began closing again.

The Dawn Goddess lunged forward, jamming her upper body into the gap of the chains, and said awkwardly: “Misunderstanding! Misunderstanding! I meant I don’t know the Warden Samus—not you! We’re allies, right?”

“Do I know you well? What’s my name?” Anthony asked.

“Uh… aren’t you a priest of the Lord of Radiance?” the Dawn Goddess asked, startled.

“Yes, but do you know my name?” Anthony asked.

The Dawn Goddess racked her brain. Had she asked this man his name when they signed the alliance? She’d been so focused on the Lord of Radiance she didn’t even remember if he’d mentioned his name.

“See? We’re not familiar, right? So if I risked my life to rescue you, shouldn’t you give me something in return?” Anthony said.

“But we’re allies! We signed an alliance treaty!” the Dawn Goddess said.

Anthony frowned: “Don’t mention that. You concealed your own situation—you had no capacity to fulfill the treaty at the time. Now that I’ve freed you, you can fulfill it. That violates the principle of equivalence. Either sign an addendum, cede some rights, or I’ll put you back in.”

Anthony pulled out an addendum agreement.

The Dawn Goddess skimmed the addendum—vague on substance but packed with textual traps—and sighed in relief, then proudly imprinted her sigil: “Fine, fine, I’ll sign, I’ll sign.”

It was vague because all the terms were empty fluff; she sighed because she didn’t understand the traps—like the barely noticeable line at the bottom: “Interpretation rights of this agreement belong to the drafter.”

Signing a few more of these agreements would mean she’d sold herself—yet she had no idea, and happily crawled out of the chain cage, beaming.

Du Luo came over, holding the Demon Spirit Longsword, pointing at the chains: “What are these chains? What strange material? I’ve never seen anything like it.”

If the Demon Spirit Longsword had eyes, it would’ve rolled them right now: “I’m a sword. You’re asking me what material these chains are made of? How would I know? If I knew their material, wouldn’t I be an alchemist or a smith? You’re insane.”

Du Luo sheathed the sword, then grabbed a piece of molten rock, crushed it into fragments; after cooling, parts had vitrified, and the shattered pieces resembled a mix of glass shards and crushed stone—extremely hard.

Holding the crushed grit, Du Luo prepared to pour it into the sword’s scabbard.

The Demon Spirit Longsword screamed in terror: “No! No! I don’t know! I really don’t know! Don’t do this! Please! It’ll dull the blade!!”

Though trembling violently inside the scabbard, the Demon Spirit Longsword still couldn’t explain anything—it truly didn’t know.

Du Luo tossed it back to Anthony, disgusted: “Knows nothing. Useless.”

Anthony casually threw it to Negrilis, who tossed it to Ang, who looked at it, unsure who to give it to, so he shoved it into the Heavenly Fortress, placing it beside the Ten-Thousand-Guide Divine Hammer.

The Dawn Goddess suddenly felt a chill all over—if even the Breakthrough-Transcendent, Self-Moving Demon Spirit Longsword was dismissed for not knowing the answer, what if she couldn’t answer a question? Would she be dismissed too?

Du Luo brought over Samus and asked the same question.

Samus cooperated but sighed: “I’m just the jailer. I really don’t know what this is called. Ask me anything else, I can answer—but this? I truly don’t know what it is.”

The Dawn Goddess whispered weakly: “Maybe… you could ask me?”

“You? A prisoner? You’d know what material the jail is made of?” Du Luo eyed her.

The Dawn Goddess replied confidently: “Of course I know. These are Thought Chains—manifested by a Planar Will. They’re spiritual matter. Every Will’s manifested spiritual matter is unique. Of course you wouldn’t recognize them.”

Negrilis and Anthony suddenly understood: “Like Holy Light—different Holy Lights have unique properties. For example, the Master’s Holy Light doesn’t harm undead.”

“That’s why! Spiritual matter manifested by Will is always unique, so it doesn’t match any material properties I know—just like the Emperor’s Death Scythe. Wow, amazing! I’m taking these chains. I wouldn’t dare mess with the Death Scythe, but these are perfect.” Du Luo said happily.

Ang waved his finger. The tiny flame that had been floating around his finger drooped and drifted over, grabbed the chain—hundreds of times its own size—and began tugging, tugging, tugging, until all the chains coiled into a single loop.

Ang tossed the coiled chain into Du Luo’s hand. The tiny flame, dejected, floated back to Ang’s fingertip, where it resumed hovering—seen from afar, it looked as if Ang’s fingertip was on fire.

The Dawn Goddess stared, dumbfounded, pointing at the flame: “This… this… it… it’s…” This flame carried an aura she recognized.

Anthony said: “Planar Will? Yeah. We beat it.”

“Ssshh—what kind of people are you? Are you really the Lord of Radiance? Is the Lord of Radiance really this powerful?” The Dawn Goddess began seriously doubting Ang and his group’s identity.

“If we weren’t this powerful, why would we pretend to be him? Forget that. You know this thing—do you know how it came to be?” Anthony asked.

“Of course I do. The first Planar Will was created by me. My divine essence was given to me by it.” The Dawn Goddess said.