Chapter 722: Scroll of the Scorching Sun
Three days later, in the city of August.
Kai Xiusu remained perched atop the same mountain as before, stabilizing his cultivation, feeling the immense power bestowed by his Ascension. He also continued studying the Heart of Hell, torn from Zaril’s chest.
Suddenly, an urgent transmission shattered his meditation.
"Your Majesty, we've discovered something... extraordinary at the Sun God Tower," Lanpu’s magical image materialized before Kai Xiusu.
The ogre’s grotesque face, usually slack with indifference, now bore an unusual mix of tension and euphoria. As Lanpu’s superior for years, Kai Xiusu could already guess—something divine had been found.
A Deity.
Only matters tied to divinity could unsettle the current Chief Minister of the Empire so thoroughly that he would rush to contact the Emperor directly.
"I'm coming," Kai Xiusu replied, brief and sharp.
The scales on the Red Dragon shimmered with a faint glow. The massive beast rapidly contracted, dissolving into a swirling column of white smoke. Within the mist, a towering human figure emerged.
The smoke dispersed in mere seconds. Where a mountain-sized dragon once stood, now stood a young man—elegant, radiant, with crimson hair and golden eyes—Kai Xiusu in human form.
"Still, be careful," Kai Xiusu murmured, a faint, self-deprecating smile tugging at his lips. "August is now under the gaze of the entire world. I doubt there’s a single eye in the shadows that isn’t watching."
To avoid drawing attention, he’d deliberately taken human form—an illusion spell he hadn’t used in ages, even he felt a little rusty.
His pale golden eyes swept forward, and space itself warped. Before him, a Flame Portal split open. Without hesitation, he stepped through.
Whoosh—
In an instant, Kai Xiusu stood atop the Eternal Sun God’s Tower, above the Sun Disk.
The surroundings were lavish—gold-leafed walls, opulent decorations—but eerily empty. Aside from Lanpu, no one else was present. The ogre gripped a golden scroll tightly in his hands.
"Master! You’ve finally arrived!" Lanpu rushed forward with palpable excitement, dropping to his knees at Kai Xiusu’s feet.
Since Kai Xiusu was now a man—significantly shorter than his ogre form—Lanpu had even used a shrinking spell on himself, reducing his height to under two meters.
Kai Xiusu glanced at him, then said, "Rise. Has anyone else seen this?"
Lanpu stood quickly, carefully handing over the scroll. "Report, Master—I’ve dismissed all non-essential personnel. No guards remain nearby. I’ve cast a Prophetic Mist, even the Ninth-Ring Divination Spell cannot pierce it. I swear on my Spiritual Soul: I’ve only read the first few pages. I have no desire to possess it."
"Good," Kai Xiusu nodded slightly. "You’ve been thorough."
Lanpu stepped back. "Rest assured, Master. I’ve given the garrisoned guards strict orders—anyone who dares intrude will be executed on sight!"
Once Lanpu had retreated, Kai Xiusu unrolled the scroll.
The first line struck him with surprise.
> Scroll of the Scorching Sun
> — Emperor of Fadalan, Aragon I
> New Era 1753, Night of the Falling Star
"I had a fierce argument with the High Prelate. He believed we should not expand our empire using the power granted by the Sun God."
"But I asked him—our people are born under the sun. All light in this world should belong to us."
The High Prelate and I parted ways in anger.
New Era 1759, Night Without Stars
Our army returned from the ruins with an ancient tome from Netheril. From it, I discovered a shocking truth.
The gods were not born divine. Even the arrogant supremacy—the Sun God worshipped by millions—was once a mortal, flesh and blood, no different from us.
A heretical thought stirred within me: Could I replace him? Become a god?
New Era 1762, Month of Withered Wheat
The northern scouts brought back a stone tablet left by Calthas. From it, I witnessed the truth—the first Goddess of Magic, Death, and the unraveling of the Weave of Magic.
But more importantly, I learned something even greater: gods die. Though it’s nearly impossible, even a deity can be slain by mortals.
> "The Gods Are Not Eternal, But Thieves of Time."
New Era 1773, Dry Season, Cloudless
After more than a decade of searching, the chief mage of the Arcane Legion delivered the final Kalsas Stone Tablet, completing the Ascension Ritual.
But the High Prelate of the Amanatara Church came to visit, warning me not to let power blind me.
How laughable. The gods imprison mortals in the Material Plane, greedily hoarding strength beyond measure—yet their loyal hounds still defend them.
So months later, I killed him. I tore out his heart and used Calthas’s arcane ritual to deceive the Sun God’s vision.
Indeed, I proved once more: gods are not omniscient, nor omnipotent.
New Era 1778, Night of the Full Moon
I will not be like that "Momentary God," Calthas—briefly wielding divine authority before dying. That would be foolish.
I will become an eternal deity. My empire will become an eternal kingdom.
I will construct three Sun God Towers. The Sun God Church will believe I have finally converted to their faith. But they are wrong. These towers will become anchors for my own faith—stepping stones on my path to divinity.
New Era 1785, Frost Moon Ritual approaching—I am ready.
I transformed the High Prelate’s heart into an artifact. I’m certain my beloved deity will cherish this "sacrificial offering."
I harvested the left eyes of a thousand blind children born at dawn, crafting them into a "Corrosion Eye Crown"—a desecration rite against the sun.
But when I ordered a nationwide search for these children, my most valued commander of the Elite Guard hesitated.
So I cut off his head.
Mortals simply cannot comprehend my grand vision.
New Era 1786, Time of the Scorching Sun
(Handwriting wild, smeared with burn marks)
I have prepared everything!
He cannot win!
He says the murderer of gods becomes a tomb of decay. That night is but a blink of his eye. That my name is being written in blood on the reverse of every star.
Impossible! More lies—corruption of mortals!
I will be immortal!
I cannot turn back now.
(The final line is heavily scratched over—barely legible: “I Am the Sun.”)
"So this was the old Emperor’s obsession—overthrowing Amanatara, becoming the eternal Sun God. A pity his life force was too short. A century of struggle, undone by the centuries of accumulation another had built. In the end, he became only a 'Momentary God.'" Kai Xiusu finished reading, letting out a long sigh.
But his mind swiftly turned to analysis. He extracted the key information from the scroll—this wasn’t a diary. It was a complete Assassination Manual of the Deity.
In moments, he had compiled the essentials:
1. Deification requires stealing the Essence of Divinity.
2. At least 100,000 devout believers and three Sacred Sites are needed to anchor one’s Divine Essence. Otherwise, like Calthas, the soul will disintegrate.
3. A proper Law Container is essential to contain the new god’s power. Without it, the ritual could explode—just as Aragon I nearly did.
4. The Ascension Ritual must be performed simultaneously at all three Sacred Sites, using Faith Power to lift the initiate and ignite the Divine Fire.
- The altar must be drenched in Desecration Blood.
- The incantation from the Kalsas Stone Tablet must be chanted.
- The True Name of the God must be inscribed.
Kai Xiusu stared at the notes, lost in thought.
"This ritual isn’t overly harsh... I can achieve most of the conditions. But the incantation is split into three parts—each hidden in one of the Three Sun God Towers. The complete ritual... likely lies buried in Fadalan’s 'Holy City.'"
Only by unifying the entire Fadalan Empire could he gather the full Deification formula.
This was clearly the old Emperor’s final safeguard—only his greatest heir could inherit his will.
How ironic. The old Emperor never imagined a Red Dragon would appear out of nowhere, snatching his legacy.
"Hah. No wonder the three kings are willing to kill for the Holy City. They’ve found the last hope of deification."
Kai Xiusu smirked, dry and sarcastic.
Yet he also sensed the price.
The first cost: Divine Corruption. A failed attempt might cause instant dissolution—or worse, transformation into a Divine Abomination. Aragon I’s madness before the ritual? That was divine taint.
The second risk: Law’s Retribution. The Divine Fire could reverse, consuming the host utterly.
The third: The Pantheon’s Wrath. Every new god invites war. And the position of Sun God? A prize too tempting for any deity to ignore.
Kai Xiusu carefully rolled up the golden scroll and tucked it away.
Then, standing at the peak of the Sun Tower, he gazed down over the endless earth, his silhouette towering against the sky.
"Still... even if the odds are nine to one, I won’t spare this chance."
His fist clenched. His pale golden eyes glimmered in the sunlight.
"All of the Fadalan Empire... will belong to the Empire of Ashen."
"Master," a voice called from below. "Someone wishes to see you."
Lanpu had waited long, holding out a parchment.
Kai Xiusu, still lost in thought, didn’t even look up. "Who?"
"Unknown."
"Even you can’t tell his status?"
Now, for the first time, Kai Xiusu showed interest. He looked at the parchment.
It was yellowed, old, stained with dried blood. But strangely—no words. Not a single character.
"He appears to be a common mortal. No trace of magic. Even divination spells show nothing."
"Ah," Kai Xiusu mused, stroking his chin. "The Weave of Magic can lie. With powerful enough spellcraft, weaving deception is effortless."
He leaned forward. "What else did he say? He didn’t just leave a blank sheet and run, did he?"
"Of course not... but—"
Lanpu lowered his head, shame, humiliation, and fury twisting his face—emotions Kai Xiusu rarely saw on the ogre.
After a long silence, the ogre growled through gritted teeth:
"Master... that insolent fool called himself your future superior."
"He said... if you don’t come, he’ll make you suffer a pain beyond imagination."
By the end, Lanpu’s voice was thick with murderous intent—his teeth nearly crushed in his rage.
"Oh?" Kai Xiusu’s eyes flickered. "There’s someone like that?"
Lanpu dropped to his knees. "Master, this is an insult to you! A failure on my part! I swear, I’ll hunt him down tonight and show him the dignity of the Empire cannot be violated!"
"Future superior..."
Kai Xiusu lowered his lashes, lost in thought.
The title. The threat. The utter arrogance—treating a Legendary Stronger like Lanpu as a fool, a weak toy.
In a heartbeat, Kai Xiusu understood.
And his heart sank.
He waved a hand. "Leave. No need to search."
Lanpu, thinking the Emperor was furious, pleaded, "Master, please! Give me one more chance—I’ll—"
Kai Xiusu picked up the parchment, his voice calm.
"If I’m not mistaken... even if he wanted to hide, no one—not even me—could find him."
"...Even you?"
Lanpu froze. His face paled. He dared not speak.
Kai Xiusu unrolled the scroll.
Blood-red handwriting appeared—only visible to him.
> Withered Rose Tavern
The Withered Roses Tavern stood deep within the Empire, tucked in a remote corner of the Blackstone Fortress. Famous for its Drow dancers’ seductive, erotic performances, it was a favorite haunt of minstrels and travelers alike.
Business was always booming. Locals came in droves, but so did visitors from distant lands—drawn by the beauty of the Drow Elves, their grace, their allure.
"Good! Excellent!"
"Again! Do it again!"
Under the influence of alcohol, faces flushed with euphoria, laughter and cheers erupted—currency notes raining down like confetti.
No one noticed as a lean, wiry man with a goat beard stepped from the shadows of the tavern’s corner.
He sat down at a quiet table, leaning on a black walking stick. His posture was languid, almost weary—waiting.
His dark eyes, deep and fathomless, gleamed faintly in the dim light.
(End of Chapter)
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