Chapter 1039: The Fire Thief

Kamail was a pure scholar at heart. Compared to the tangled web of power struggles among modern human nations and alien kingdoms, he was far more comfortable analyzing data in the lab—data so dense and complex that it would make ordinary people dizzy at a glance. Yet even he, upon hearing High Lord’s words, realized that these tests carried significance beyond mere academic inquiry; they were deeply entwined with political considerations.

Cecil was spearheading a new kind of international order—one that transcended continents and races, encompassing all mortal species. The foundation of this order was the shared interests of mortals when facing global catastrophes like the “Divine Calamity.” It was about a collective survival instinct, a life-and-death bond that united all mortal peoples. At this stage, it was mostly a political call to arms from High Lord. But if someone could prove in the lab that the souls of all mortal races exhibited a kind of “synchronization” before the gods, that divine fluctuations could affect all intelligent beings worldwide regardless of race or distance, then this concept of a “community” would be more than just political rhetoric.

To be honest, Kamail wasn’t interested in politics.

Still, he was more than willing to help High Lord build the new order he envisioned—as a Renegade himself, this was the bright future he and his kin had dreamed of a thousand years ago.

Mortals united, standing together against the world’s crises, surviving stubbornly through divine disasters and magical storms.

“I understand,” the ancient archmage bowed slightly, the clinking of his rune-etched armor plates crisp in the quiet, “We will complete these tests as soon as possible and provide solid, reliable evidence.”

High Lord nodded, then after a moment’s thought said, “Also, prepare for me—I’m going to the courtyard of the Renegade Fortress.”

“You want to see Amon?” Veronica immediately caught on. “Would you like me to accompany you?”

“No need. I’ll go alone this time,” High Lord shook his head. “Just a talk. The War God has fallen—I’m curious if he senses anything, or has any thoughts on the matter.”

“Understood,” Veronica bowed her head. “I’ll check the status of the teleportation gate right away.”

…

In the Shattered World, darker and deeper than even the Shadow Realm, within the courtyard of the Renegade Fortress in the Umbral Realm, a sacred white stag the size of a small mountain lay quietly among floating shards of stone and crisscrossing ancient relics. A misty white glow swirled around him like a delicate veil, unchanged for centuries.

This near-stagnant “dead silence” lasted an unknown length of time before Amon suddenly opened his eyes.

His gaze, like crystal forged from light, fixed on the courtyard entrance. A certain “human” approached. The former god was silent for a few seconds, then projected his voice telepathically: “Gawain Cecil… long time no see. Welcome to my little garden—pardon my inability to rise and greet you properly.”

“Your sense of humor remains unchanged,” High Lord smiled faintly, stepping to a comfortable distance before Amon. “Is everything well here?”

Amon’s voice echoed directly in his mind: “Apart from being unable to walk, all is well—quiet, peaceful, undisturbed by the endless tides of mortal thoughts. It’s a decent vacation.”

“That’s good,” High Lord smiled, then got straight to the point. “I came to speak frankly—the War God has fallen. It happened a few days ago.”

Amon fell silent.

After a full minute, the former god sighed softly and broke the silence: “Is that so… well, perhaps it’s a fitting end.”

“You didn’t sense it?” High Lord asked, curious. “It caused quite a stir. I believe its impact was strong enough to pierce the barriers between the Shadow and Umbral Realms.”

“I did sense some fluctuations a few days ago, but I didn’t realize they were caused by the War God’s fall… Though you told me he was on the brink of losing control, and that a battle between mortals and the War God was inevitable. Honestly, I didn’t expect you to pull off such a feat,” Amon said slowly. “Judging by your expression, it went smoothly?”

“We paid a heavy price. Many died, and resources were drained beyond count,” High Lord shook his head. “I’m not sure if ‘smoothly’ is the right word.”

“Ah, that’s quite smooth already. Human emperor, you actually defeated a god head-on,” Amon’s tone held genuine admiration. “You should be proud. It’s something to boast about. But I guess you didn’t come just to tell me this?”

“Indeed, there’s more,” High Lord nodded. “After the War God’s fall, we found that his remaining body fragments no longer cause mental corruption to mortals.”

Amon paused for two seconds, then spoke with surprise: “You mean the War God’s shards lost their corrupting influence?”

“No, it’s not that the shards changed, but that mortals are no longer affected by them,” High Lord corrected immediately. “The War God’s fragments remain the same in nature. The change lies within mortals themselves—that’s a fundamental difference.”

Amon fell silent again, seemingly deep in thought. After half a minute, he spoke once more: “You mean that through a true ‘godslaying,’ mortals have completely freed themselves from the War God’s influence—not only gaining freedom in using divine magic and in their words and deeds, but also developing mental resistance to the War God’s relics—and this effect extends beyond just the warriors who fought, to all mortals?”

“Yes. Though we can’t test every individual worldwide, we suspect this change affects everyone, possibly including non-human races.”

“…I want to hear your detailed views,” Amon fixed his gaze on High Lord, his tone more serious than ever. “What have you discovered? What are your hypotheses? And what do you plan to verify? If you don’t mind, tell me everything.”

This was exactly why High Lord had come. He readily agreed and spent the next several dozen minutes explaining in detail the phenomena the technicians had observed in the lab, the information gathered from various sources, and the speculations of Kamail and others.

Throughout the entire explanation, Amon remained unusually quiet, not interrupting once. Only when High Lord finished did he let out a long, meaningful sigh.

After a few seconds, the former god broke the silence: “Looks like my original plan had a small flaw—missing the step where mortals ‘do it themselves.’ So… are you planning to take advantage of my inability to resist and ‘kill’ me again?”

“Ahem…” High Lord coughed awkwardly, unsure if Amon was serious or just displaying his unique sense of humor. “Of course not. You’re overthinking it.”

He then paused, and repeated what he had explained to Amber in the lab, aiming to reassure Amon. At the end, he emphasized: “Overall, our main goal is simply to ensure mortal races can survive in this world. Even if we restart the Renegade Plan, we harbor no subjective hostility toward the gods. Given a choice, we would never resort to extreme measures.”

He glanced at the quietly listening Amon, hesitated briefly, then spoke of a thought that had been on his mind lately: “In fact, I believe there must be another path between mortals and gods—beyond life-and-death opposition or total separation. I’ve considered this before, and now I’m more convinced than ever.”

“Too idealistic and optimistic,” Amon finally spoke. “But you don’t seem to be driven by blind hope or naive ideas.”

“I have my principles,” High Lord said solemnly, looking at the “God of Nature.” “I firmly believe this: since the existence of gods is a result of the natural laws governing this world, then these ‘natural laws’ can be understood and controlled. It’s only a matter of time. We haven’t found the third path yet because our understanding of time’s mysteries is still insufficient. But if we give up exploring just because we can’t find the way now, then we’re no different from those who turn to gods whenever they face hardship.”

“Fearless…” Amon sighed. “You remind me of those first who left their caves, those who snatched fire from lightning with nothing but branches… The fearless fire thieves must possess such qualities. But I must warn you—more people die before the first flame even catches than those lucky enough to succeed.”

High Lord nodded solemnly. “Thank you. I will remember your warning.”

“Since you’ve come this far, I’ll offer some advice,” Amon said after a moment of silence. “I imagine you’re here mainly to hear my ‘suggestions,’ right?”

High Lord’s expression turned serious immediately. “I’m all ears.”

“I don’t know exactly how you plan to ‘control’ the laws governing the gods’ operation, but one thing I hope you keep in mind—no matter which god, they are all bound tightly by the ‘rules’ set at their birth, constrained by the mortal thoughts that originally shaped them. Even when on the brink of madness, or already mad, their actions still follow these ‘original doctrines.’

“Based on this, I have two pieces of advice: First, your actions should be cautious but bold. As long as you strictly adhere to the most critical parts of those ‘rules,’ you need not fear the gods losing control. Mortals believe gods are quick to anger and punish at the slightest misstep, but in truth… whether ‘anger’ or ‘joy,’ a god’s own ‘emotions’ cannot truly dictate their actions. They can only act according to the laws.

“No matter how angry a god is, they cannot punish a believer who hasn’t violated the original doctrines. No matter how joyful, they cannot grant blessings to a mortal who doesn’t believe in them. In a way, these exalted gods are just a group of pitiable beings bound by forces beyond their control.

“Second, I suggest you and your scholars study the oldest, most primitive religious texts. Summarize a god’s ‘laws’ from the source of faith, and trace how these laws evolved through history, rather than blindly applying modern classics that have been revised countless times.

“Often, modern scriptures and the earliest religious texts seem to describe the same thing, but due to subtle adjustments—intentional or not—by annotators, their corresponding doctrines have shifted in nuance. If mishandled, these subtle deviations can cause major problems.”

High Lord instinctively clenched his fist—this was the first time Amon had offered such concrete, even operational advice!

Clearly, the bonds restraining this “God of Nature” had loosened again, likely connected to the battle at Winter Fortress.

This visit was far from wasted.

After carefully noting Amon’s warnings, he exhaled deeply and smiled sincerely. “Thank you very much for your advice—I will put it into practice.”

He then pulled out the mechanical watch he always carried and glanced at the time, taking a small step back. “I’ve lingered here far too long. It’s time I left. Before I go, let me thank you once more.”

“No need to thank me,” Amon’s voice carried a faint smile. “After all, it’s rare to find someone as interesting to talk to as you. But if you really want to show your gratitude, there is something I’d like to ask of you.”

“Ask me for a favor?” High Valen blinked, his eyes drifting involuntarily to the intricate bindings wrapped around Amon. “Just so we’re clear—if you want me to help you get out of those…”

“Don’t worry,” Amon interrupted before he could finish. “I know my situation well enough—I’m not fully ‘neutralized’ yet. It’s only natural you’d be hesitant, so I’m not asking you to remove these restraints. It’s just… lying here for so long is incredibly dull. I want to find a bit of amusement.”

“Amusement?” High Valen raised an eyebrow. “What kind of amusement?”

“I’ve heard that a new device called a ‘magic net terminal’ has appeared in the human world. It’s somewhat like the communication networks from the days of the Gondor Empire, but more fascinating,” Amon hesitated for a moment—whether from uncertainty or something else, it was hard to tell—but then continued, “I’m curious about it.”

I want one of those too.jpg.

High Valen was speechless for a moment, stunned. Then he recovered and said, “Magic net terminals rely on the magic net to function, and I’m not sure if they can operate reliably after passing through the portal into the Shadow Realm…”

“I believe they can,” Amon replied. “That ancient portal is more stable than you think. Even back in Gondor’s time, mortal mages used it to transmit highly complex magical information—so in theory, it should allow magic to pass through without loss.”

High Valen: “…”

How did this former god even think of that?

(End of chapter)