Chapter 426: Transforming the Laws

Standing quietly in the open space in front of the mage tower, Donald’s mind went through the analyses he had made earlier. Soon, the situation became clear to him. His mind was calm and steady, free from any irritation or distraction, allowing his thoughts to reach a state ideal for deep meditation, with not a single stray thought arising.

At that moment, it was as if a drop of ink was dropped into a bowl of clear water—not only causing ripples but also imparting a new color to the water!

Silently, a faint spark, no larger than a firefly, began to burn deep within the core of Donald’s soul.

This tiny flame burned quietly. Though small and seemingly unchanging, it caused tremendous upheaval in his consciousness world, leading to undeniable fluctuations in the laws of reality as well.

This was the process all those who sought divinity had to go through: igniting the Divine Flame!

The Divine Flame, also known as the Flame of Laws, purifies and strengthens one’s divinity. Through its burning power, the soul and body are broken down and reassembled into a divine soul and a divine body. Without going through this process, mortals can never evolve into immortal beings!

Although divine beings have long lifespans—often hundreds or thousands of years, with the longest living even reaching tens of thousands of years—their souls and lives are not infinite. In terms of power and form, they are far inferior to those who have ignited the Divine Flame.

This tiny spark marked the beginning of igniting the Divine Flame. Any being that has grasped certain aspects of the laws to a certain extent has the ability to ignite it. But whether they can carry it through is the real challenge. This is why many legendary warriors at the peak of their strength get stuck at this threshold, hesitating to take action until their lives are nearing their end. By then, with weaker wills and physical conditions, they fail most of the time. Very few succeed in igniting the Divine Flame.

Donald felt the tiny spark within him, noticing it burning slowly and steadily, using his soul as fuel. After each burn, only a fraction of his soul remained, yet it was a hundred times purer than before—each thought as clear and transparent as crystal under sunlight.

Moreover, the consumed portion was being transformed into nourishment, strengthening that divine flame and reshaping his divine body.

Although the speed at which this divine fire ignited was not fast, one’s soul, no matter how powerful, had limits. Donald did a quick calculation and concluded that, based on the size of his soul, maintaining the current ignition rate, it would take about seven hours before his soul was completely burned by the divine fire. This seemed sufficient to complete the process of becoming a god, as Celt I had also managed to achieve godhood and form a divine position in roughly the same amount of time.

However, for Donald, this time was far from enough. The divine fire was not static; as more souls burned, the fire itself grew stronger, accelerating both the burning and transformation processes. To ensure a perfect transformation, it was necessary to maintain balance between the two and prevent his soul from being completely consumed.

Donald knew his own strength—both physically and in terms of divinity—was far greater than that of ordinary gods-to-be. This meant he needed more time and effort for the transformation. If the process of altering the laws was not completed by the time his soul was burned out, igniting the divine fire would fail, resulting in the god-to-be being utterly destroyed, leaving no trace in the world.

Even if there were ways to delay this fate, the result would still be a half-dead existence with no possibility of progressing further.

The gods-to-be were not without solutions to such crises. Whenever one of them began to ignite the divine fire, all intelligent beings connected to them through faith would sense it and provide faith energy as an external force to replace the soul in igniting the fire, thereby sustaining the process of law alteration for longer periods and at faster speeds.

At that moment, Donald also vaguely perceived, through the threads of faith that seemed to span thousands of miles, the scenes of numerous “believers” who held varying degrees of faith in him. In his vision, their souls appeared as flames—some large, some small. The larger ones resembled torches, while the smaller ones were like matches, clearly indicating differences in mental strength and soul rank.

“Is this the tangible form of the Fire of Life—the soul?” As Donald observed the states of these “believers’ souls, a massive force rose from afar and converged toward the divine fire he was igniting. The accumulating force contained the desires and distractions of countless beings, and those complex thoughts exerted tremendous pressure on his soul’s will, nearly causing him to lose himself in them.

Fortunately, the Book of Truth promptly shielded Donald’s soul, clearing away the distractions in those thoughts and retaining only the purest force of faith. As if intuitively aware that the being they worshipped was about to become one of the immortals, these believers unconsciously prayed, gathering the force of faith toward their deified idol.
“What a close call!”
Donald knew he couldn’t resist such temptations. By accepting this power, he could easily go through the process of transformation under the laws and successfully ignite the divine flame. Yet, with a will already highly strengthened, he quickly regained his clarity, unhesitatingly rejecting this help and ordering the Book of Truth to isolate and store all the force of faith.
Ignoring everything around him, he gradually transferred the pure soul energy he had prepared earlier into his soul’s core through the Book of Truth, using it to replace most of his soul structure as fuel for the divine flame, thereby supporting the process of transforming his body under the laws.
Just as Donald overcame the first peril and made smooth progress toward successfully igniting the divine flame, several powerful forces had already gathered outside Dalaran. Moreover, countless unknown entities lurked in the shadows, ready to seize the opportunity to disrupt the process of igniting the divine flame.
Although these people knew that Dalaran was now inhabited by a true god, they cast aside their fear of death and still chose to advance here. Clearly, these individuals were either true warriors or had compelling reasons.
One group consisted of twelve members. Despite being quite noticeable, they hid outside the Twilight Forest, even going unnoticed by the newly ascended god, the King of the North, indicating they possessed even more powerful concealment skills.
One handsome, fair-skinned young man with a effeminate appearance in the group frowned and said, “Warden, are we really going to defy a true god as the Pope has instructed?”
The leader was a middle-aged man who appeared to be a kind scholar, but the weariness in his eyes suggested his actual age was much greater than his appearance suggested.
The elder replied, “Oz, your concerns are valid, but this is an oracle issued directly by the Lord of Dawn—we cannot simply disregard it!”
Though the warden spoke of the Lord of Dawn, his expression lacked the reverence that priests usually showed toward their deified gods; instead, it seemed as though he was referring to an old friend.

Indeed, these twelve are the assassins sent by the Church of the Dawn Lord—the twelve strongest members of the most brutal and dark organization within the church, known as the Twelve Judges. Not long ago, one of them, Blood Hawk, was lost, leaving only eleven of them plus the most mysterious warden of the prison, bringing the total to twelve.

The one speaking was Death Rose Oz, one of the four leaders of the prison, along with Blood Hawk. She was famous for her elusive movement skills and feminine demeanor. Among the four leaders, Death Rose Oz ranked above Blood Hawk, second only to the most powerful leader, Shadowless Pipas. Her words represented those of most in the group.

“With your strength, Lord, you could have long broken free from the church’s constraints. Why do you still serve in this dark and gloomy prison? It would be great if you could lead us all to leave the Church of the Dawn Lord and live freely in Fallen Tarlin or any place beyond the reach of the Three Glorious Gods.”

Before the warden could speak, a vague figure hidden in the shadows spoke up, “You don’t understand, Oz! Do you think our strength comes from somewhere else? Without the lives of those prisoners in the prison, we wouldn’t have regained our original strength so quickly after being forced to convert to the Dawn Lord, nor would almost everyone of us have advanced by a great deal!”

It was Shadowless Pipas, the warden’s direct disciple, who was clearly superior to the others in both strength and status. He had always been the leader among the Twelve Judges.

Death Rose Oz nodded and said, “I know that. But if we leave, our strength will at most decline a bit, and we can find a way to restore it. After all, we’re just superficial hypocrites. Before we came here, didn’t the Pope remove the restrictions within us as a reward for this dangerous mission? And the Dawn Lord hasn’t done anything to our bodies or souls again!”

“Didn’t do anything? Heh…”

Shadowless Pipas let out a cold laugh, and the other powerful prisoners felt uneasy upon hearing this.

“Could it be that the Dawn Lord has done something we’re unaware of?”

“Why would the great Dawn Lord need to do anything? From the day we embraced his faith and accepted his power, we became tools in his hands—ready to be sacrificed or abandoned at any time. All the dirty work the church can’t handle falls on us. Do you really think the Dawn Lord spared us heretics out of kindness?”

“How is that possible?” the others said in disbelief.
“How isn’t it possible? Do you believe that if we head in the opposite direction from our target, within ten miles, we will be instantly burned to ashes by the holy flames arising from our souls, and suffer indescribable pain before dying?” Pipas of the Shadowless ones’ words were like a bucket of cold water with ice cubes poured over their heads, plunging those who thought they had a chance straight into an abyss of hell.