Celes caught the fear in Locke's eyes. He leaned back slightly, resting against the chair, clearly savoring the change in Locke's expression.
What Celes did not know was that, in Locke's eyes at this very moment, he had already become the embodiment of terror itself.
Even with a faint smile at the corner of his lips, in Locke's imagination he looked like a monstrous beast with its jaws wide open—one that would swallow him whole the instant it opened its mouth.
Should I agree?
Or should I refuse?
Large beads of cold sweat rolled down Locke's forehead.
In his mind, it felt as though two tiny figures were locked in a violent struggle.
One of them held aloft the banner of "Survival," pinning the other to the ground and beating it mercilessly. As it struck, it also tried to brainwash the one beneath it.
"You idiot—agree to it!"
"Didn't we decide this long ago? We want to survive in this world, to see the countless heavens and myriad realms, to witness all living beings, and one day stand before Linley, manifesting our presence before him!"
"If you reject Celes' proposal, there's a very real chance he'll kill you on the spot!"
"If we were still at the Saint level, death would be nothing—at worst, we'd start over in the Underworld or the Realm of the Undead!"
"But now that we're gods, if we're killed, our souls won't even enter the Realm of the Undead. Death would mean true annihilation!"
"And don't only think about the worst-case scenario. Think about what we gain if we agree!"
"One billion people! With our attainments in the soul, we could refine at least five Soul Gold Orbs!"
"With those five Soul Gold Orbs, even if our soul can't fully recover, it would at least recover enough to support further cultivation!"
"Once we completely comprehend the Profound Mystery of Ice's Edge and fully fuse it with the Profound Mystery of Illusory Fog, we'll possess the strength of a Highgod!"
"And then, we can kill Celes and avenge those one billion humans—it won't be too late!"
Under the ferocious assault of the "Survival" figure, the other had no power to fight back, forced to endure blow after blow.
Yet no matter how badly it was beaten, it never once yielded.
"I know… I know…"
Its voice trembled, choked with sobs.
"Everything you're saying—I understand it all…"
Clearly, it wasn't unafraid of death.
"We're people with sound values and a complete moral compass!"
"I'm afraid of death—but I'm even more afraid that once we take this step, we won't be us anymore!"
"At that point… would we still be ourselves?"
When that small figure finally raised its head, Locke saw two words floating above it—
Self.
That figure… is my self?
Yes. If he agreed to Celes and used the souls of one billion people to refine Soul Gold Orbs, then would he still be himself?
In that instant, Locke also seemed to see that although the "Survival" figure was howling as it beat the "Self," its own face was streaked with tears.
Clearly, even "Survival" understood this truth:
Even if it lived on, the one who survived would no longer be me.
At that moment, Locke's mind became utterly clear.
Since whether he agreed or not, "I" was destined to disappear—then why drag one billion people down with me?
Locke was no moral crusader.
If someone handed him Soul Gold Orbs right now, he would absorb them without a second thought.
But to personally refine the souls of one billion people into Soul Gold Orbs…
I'm sorry. I can't do that.
Although he sensed that something subtle and wondrous had changed within his soul, Locke had no time to examine it. He lifted his head and looked straight at Celes.
At this moment, every emotion spilling out from Celes' soul lay naked before Locke's perception.
Yet what puzzled him was this—
He did not sense any killing intent.
Could it be that even if I refuse, he won't kill me?
The thought flashed through Locke's mind, but he didn't dwell on it.
Because right now, he was already prepared for death.
At worst, it would just be a single water-element divine clone lost—so be it.
Even without affinity to other elements, it wasn't as though he couldn't place his hopes in the Four Edicts.
Who knew? Perhaps his talent in the Edicts surpassed his talent in the Laws.
—
Within Locke Territory, outside Locke's Saint-level true body, a mass of white mist enveloped him completely, concealing his aura.
Then Locke burst through the door of his cultivation chamber and fled toward the Light Temple.
If Celes were to make a move within the Frostsnow Empire, the only way Locke could survive would be to leave the Wakanda Plane through a planar teleportation array.
And in the entire Wakanda Plane, as far as Locke knew, only the Light Pope and Celes were aware of the teleportation array's location.
Trading a Highgod artifact—one he couldn't even unleash much of—for that information was a deal the Light Pope would be more than happy to accept.
…
Locke raised his eyes to meet Celes' gaze and straightened his spine.
"I'm sorry, Your Majesty Celes."
"Although I have some attainments in the path of the soul, I have never once studied the refinement of souls."
"So Your Majesty, even if you gave me one billion citizens—no, even one hundred billion, one trillion—I still wouldn't be able to refine any soul essence."
Celes might not care about one billion people—but one hundred billion, one trillion? That was another matter entirely.
After all, he had descended to the material plane to collect faith for his Overgod.
The more faith he gathered, the greater his merits within the Overgod's divine legion.
Conversely, if he gathered too little, he might even face punishment.
The total number of living beings in the Wakanda Plane was likely no more than thirty billion.
The Frostsnow Empire occupied most of the habitable lands, housing roughly twenty billion living beings.
After excluding magical beasts, wild animals, and non-human races, the number of humans within the Frostsnow Empire was about ten billion.
That Celes was willing to hand over a full tenth of the human population for Locke to refine Soul Gold Orbs showed just how bold his move was.
Even for an empire of Frostsnow's scale, it would take fifty to a hundred years to recover.
Thus, when Locke said this, he was certain that no matter how unwilling Celes felt, he would never dare gamble a hundred billion human lives on the chance that Locke could refine soul essence.
"You're certain?" Celes asked.
"Yes. I'm certain."
Locke's reply was sharp and decisive.
Just a water-element divine clone—
I can afford to lose it.
(End of Chapter)
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