Chapter 330 Becoming a God

Deep within the Yuanxin Palace, the air, which used to be permeated with the fragrance of flowers and expensive incense, was inevitably mixed with an ominous burnt smell.

Esmerel stood in front of the window, waving away those around her. The heavy palace door was tightly closed behind her, isolating her from all the disturbances and chaos in the outside world. At this moment, she was the only one in the huge palace, and the crystal ball on the table was still truthfully conveying everything that happened in front of the palace gate.

A hunched figure appeared silently in the corner of the hall.

"...Guardian of the Royal Court, Lord Sandra." The queen did not turn around.

The old woman she called took off her hood. Her hair was tied with a mess of bones of unknown origin. Around her neck hung layers of colorful beads of unknown purpose and a bone flute with a dim yellow color.

"You disappoint me." Esmerel finally turned around, his voice cold and hoarse, his golden eyes like those of a beast fixed firmly on the saint before him. "I asked you to conceal your identity, test the ghost and the god beside him, and disperse the Third Council. But you caused my palace to be surrounded by fire and mobs, and almost turned the core district of the royal city into a sea of ​​fire!"

"Your Majesty, you're wrong about this." Sandro's cloudy eyes rolled nervously. "Once 'bad luck' begins to spread, it's like a beast escaping from a cage. It's no longer under the control of the caster and has its own trajectory. It can't always be controlled as you wish. What's more, the people you're trying to harm are those favored by fate. It's like trying to catch galloping horses with spider silk, or using linen to stop pouring lava..."

"I must say that you have chosen a terrible enemy for yourself. Fate is behind him, and our 'God's Chosen One'..." Sandro laughed strangely a few times, completely ignoring Esmerel's eyes that suddenly turned cold and hinted at murderous intent. He said meaningfully, "Hasn't 'he' been abandoned by the gods long ago?"

The queen pursed her lips indifferently and said nothing.

After a vague and nonchalant threat, Sandra continued to mutter nervously, as if deep in thought, "But the ideals that sir represents are sharper, more... terrifying. Even just a tiny glance from him is enough to sting the soul of someone like me who tries to escape 'destiny'..."

...Oh God, the saint licked his lips in awe and greed.

Esmerel, however, calmed down again. The rage at being so easily dismissed as a sure defeat, the resentment at being treated like a bug destined to be crushed by the wheels, the excitement and frustration of meeting a worthy opponent yet always being one step behind—all of this was well hidden by her, and she remained cold and tough.

"Sir Sandro, please forgive me for reminding you," Esmerel said coldly, "You should understand where the title 'Guardian of the Royal Court' comes from and what it truly represents."

"Ah, of course... How could I forget..." The old woman smiled in a vague way upon hearing this. "Your Majesty, you are even more... ambitious than our late king."

Since the time of the previous king, the Silver Iris Empire and the Saint before them had a long history of trade. Without the Silver Iris Empire's mobilization of the nation to provide the Saint with a vast amount of "luck" or "misfortune" for research—regardless of whether the carriers were citizens of the Empire or the people of an enemy nation—the Saint wouldn't have become a Saint so easily.

This kind of "transaction" is very common. Powers cultivate strong people, and strong people give back to the power. If they are lucky enough to cultivate a saint, then this power or even this country will be able to make it through the hard times.

However, as his power grew, Sandro, the Guardian of the Royal Court, became increasingly formidable, demanding ever-increasing rewards. Even the previous king began to fear him and stopped making deals with him. Sandro, seemingly terrified by the price he paid for wielding his power, vanished from sight—until Cassius II ascended the throne.

However, the other party agreed to the deal very readily. The queen guessed that it was probably related to the new god, and she didn't mind taking advantage of this. But the only thing she didn't expect was that this saint had such an extreme personality and acted with almost no regard for the royal family, not even hesitating to use them as a stepping stone.

After all, Esmerel is an outsider who is not recognized by the royal family and the nobles. She is still excluded from some secrets of the royal family.

...So the saint in front of us is an uncontrollable variable.

"Sir Sandro, do you want to become a god?" the queen suddenly asked without warning.

The saint's body suddenly froze. Her cloudy eyes, withered facial muscles, and even the layers of ornaments on her body seemed frozen by some immense force. The entire hall seemed to have fallen into a deathly silence.

After a long pause, Sandra asked hoarsely, "What did you say?"

Her gaze was fixed on the queen's frosty face, like the licking of some cold-blooded reptile.

…

On the other side, the God of Struggle and Change, who was about to sneeze after being talked about by the two, was earnestly giving a science lecture to the professor.

"The concept of 'luck' actually has something in common with 'fate,' but in some ways, they are diametrically opposed." He was surprisingly adept at explaining it, patiently finding a way for even the average person to understand: "'Fate' chooses to conform to the rules of the world, while 'luck' chooses to try to escape a certain destiny."

The professor accepted this well: "I understand, [fortune telling] and [changing fate]."

Azuka was stunned for a moment. The two nouns were spoken in Chinese, making them somewhat difficult to understand for someone from a different cultural background. However, the Savior cleverly deduced the general meaning from the literal meaning and nodded in agreement, saying, "Your summary is very accurate. This point will likely resonate with the concept of 'reform,' which is why Sandra is sensitive to the ideals I represent."

He paused, then asked curiously, "Is there anything similar to my philosophy in your native language?"

[Yes.] The professor said expressionlessly: [There are fifty great ways, forty-nine of which are derived from nature, and one of which is hidden by man.]

Azuka: “…”

This is completely beyond the scope.

He tried hard, stumbled, and then found to his regret that his tongue began to refuse to obey him.

"I'm sorry, Professor. Perhaps you'll need to teach me a few more times before I can successfully repeat this mysterious motto." The God of Struggle and Change finally gave up his imitation. He spread his hands calmly, a smile of resigned curiosity on his face. "But I still vaguely sense some profound concept of order, regularity, and change. The one who could articulate this motto must be an ancient civilization imbued with profound wisdom."

...The professor's understanding was basically correct. He looked at the god in surprise. Could this be the so-called "resonance of ideas"?

"This sentence is roughly derived from the Book of Changes, Xici Part One. Its meaning can be one-sidedly understood as the laws of nature are incomplete, and everything has a glimmer of hope. Later, it was absorbed by the local religion Taoism." He roughly translated and explained the meaning, and then saw that guy's eyes were visibly shining, and he was obviously very interested.

In a rare moment, without much thought, Nova blurted out subconsciously: "If you are interested in this area, you can audit philosophy courses at university in the future. I can recommend several professors with strong academic ability to you."

As soon as he said this, he realized something was wrong - he was most likely dead in the other world, and it was not certain whether he could return home. How could he introduce people to philosophy classes?

Azuka was stunned for a moment, and his eyes couldn't help but become softer: "You are so kind to me."

"My bad." His nemesis frowned seriously. "I'm sorry, but I realize I was just giving you empty promises. They were just some random thoughts I hadn't thought through seriously. Please ignore my suggestion of a philosophy class, but I can still give you a simple introduction to the basics."

Someone who was painted with pie in the sky: "..."

He sighed, cupped his old enemy's face, lowered his eyes, and lovingly kissed the other's slightly furrowed brows: "No, sir, your willingness to consider these things for me is enough to make me smile. This is an invaluable reward for me..."

The savior paused, but couldn't help but give the black-haired young man a light kiss on the cheek, which had subconsciously tensed up due to the praise, leaving a faint red mark. "Of course, your 'honesty' is always lovely."

It made him laugh and cry at the same time, but also made him feel soft inside - how could there be such a lovely and hateful person in the world?

...It makes people want to hold it in their mouths and lick it carefully until it becomes a pool of trembling soft and tender flesh, and then chew it all up and swallow it without reservation.

"...I'm just stating the facts to avoid unnecessary expectations." The professor was a little overwhelmed by the praise, but a faint chill ran down his spine. Seeing that guy was about to kiss him again, he quickly pressed his palm against his face: "Enough, let's get back to the point."

"Okay." The blue eyes looked at him softly and sincerely, with a gentle smile.

…For a moment, Nova wanted this guy to stop staring at him without blinking. It was so creepy. Beneath that thin veneer of gentleness and sincerity, there were so many things he didn't quite understand, yet so creepy. Light, deep, soft, and deadly—it made his spine tingle inexplicably, like eyes outside the window, breathing under the bed, licking in his sleep... as if he was being stared at by something greedy, dangerous, and insatiable.

But reason told him that this proposal seemed to make no sense except for his subjective feelings, and as the assassin said - from an outsider's perspective, it seemed a bit too sticky, like flirting between lovers.

"Don't keep staring at me like that. It's scary." The professor's face was cold. He suddenly raised his palm and slapped the guy's eyes, pushing him away a little. Those long, soft eyelashes brushed against his palm, making him feel itchy. After withdrawing his hand, he subconsciously closed his fingers.

The opinions of outsiders were meaningless to him, the black-haired young man thought seriously, and he chose to trust his instinctive reaction.

The savior showed a slightly aggrieved expression at just the right moment, but he was very skilled in not continuing to pester his nemesis, whose fur was all over his body and was on alert. This made people wonder if he was overreacting.

He cunningly began to get back to business.

"I suspect that Sandra's desire for godhood, or perhaps all saints, instinctively yearns for a deeper resonance with their chosen ideals," Azuka said quietly. "But seeing the similarities between her ideals and mine, this desire is aroused to an unprecedented degree."

"The Queen won't allow it," the professor frowned. "Judging from the fire earlier, Sandra's greatest characteristic is her inability to control herself. She won't allow such an extremely dangerous and completely uncontrollable 'New God' to exist."