The information on the System screen caused Theodore's eyes to blaze.
One of the five components of the Five-Colored Divine Light?
There was actually an opportunity like this?
Even for Theodore—who had already obtained secret techniques from the Golden Crow Heavenly Court, and who held even a sinister world-shaking art like the Nail-Head Seven Arrow Book, something whose upper limit could theoretically curse even quasi-saints to death—the sight of a chance connected to the Five-Colored Divine Light still sent his heart surging.
After all, the Nail-Head Seven Arrow Book could kill people, yes—
but only through indirect curse work.
It required a long ritual, often spanning dozens of days, before the target would finally die.
In direct battle, it was almost useless.
That was why, though it was sinister and terrifying, it could never be counted among the great innate divine abilities. At best it was a shocking secret art.
But the Five-Colored Divine Light was different.
That was a true innate supreme divine ability, recognized as such even by Saints in the primordial world.
Its power was monstrous even among the highest divine abilities.
During the Investiture Tribulation, the first peacock since the opening of heaven and earth—Kong Xuan—achieved the Dao and, with quasi-saint cultivation, used his innate Five-Colored Divine Light to stand nearly invincible, blocking the Twelve Golden Immortals of the Chan sect so thoroughly that they could not advance even a step.
The terror of the Five-Colored Divine Light was fully revealed then.
It was said to be able to brush away all things.
With one sweep, treasures fell from the sky.
With a second, flesh collapsed.
With a third, the enemy's soul scattered into nothingness.
Even fellow quasi-saints would retreat from it.
If Theodore could one day obtain the complete Five-Colored Divine Light, then in the primordial world he too could stand above all his peers.
A youthful Yang Jian, Nezha, Lei Zhenzi, Tuxing Sun, Huang Tianhua—put all of them together and they would still be swept away by a single brush of the Five-Colored Divine Light.
Yet after the first wave of excitement, Theodore could not help feeling a trace of regret.
At present, he had obtained only one of the five lights—Wu Earth Divine Light. It was still very far from the complete Five-Colored Divine Light.
But the instant the thought arose, Theodore immediately shook his head at himself.
That was the very definition of greed.
The Wu Earth Divine Light might be far from the complete Five-Colored Divine Light, but it was still a first-rate divine ability, even superior to the Three Heads and Eight Arms he currently possessed.
In the primordial world, obtaining such a technique would have cost a terrifying price.
To receive it and still complain that it was incomplete—that really was pushing his luck.
And besides that, he had also gained the divine movement art Earth-Traveling Divine Movement, which was no trivial ability either.
Its speed through the earth was far inferior to the Golden Crow rainbow-flight secret art he had inherited from the Heavenly Court, yes—
but the rainbow-flight moved through the sky, while Earth-Traveling Divine Movement let one pass freely through soil and ley lines.
That gave it an entirely different use.
If one combined Earth-Traveling Divine Movement with Wu Earth Divine Light, then even in the primordial world one could probably burrow all the way down to the Ninefold Nether Springs.
Theodore drew in a deep breath.
"First merit descended upon me."
"Then I gained Earth-Traveling Divine Movement and Wu Earth Divine Light."
"This time… I've profited enormously."
But just then, Theodore abruptly raised his brows.
He lifted his head and looked toward the sky, a faint sensation stirring in his heart.
"Hm?"
"This is… hostility?"
"And this malice seems to be coming from the entire magical world?"
At once, dark and chaotic text surfaced on the System screen.
[The pill you have refined runs contrary to Heavenly Dao. It acts against the heavens, and thus heaven and earth will not tolerate it.]
[At this moment Heaven sends killing intent. Destroy the pill formula and follow the will of Heaven, and you may yet preserve yourself.]
[Otherwise, be prepared to face enemies from heaven and earth alike.]
…
At the same time, far from St Mungo's—
Marcus Flint was racing toward the hospital in a posture so twisted and grotesque it no longer looked wholly human, and yet his speed was astonishing.
Suddenly, he sensed something from the fishman statue clutched in his arms.
"The wrath of the great Father…"
"And also…"
"The wrath of countless gods!"
"Theodore Ashbourne—what exactly have you done?!"
Before the shock in his mind had even faded, denser and denser tides of madness began leaking from the fishman statue and pouring into his body.
Marcus Flint instantly began emitting one guttural, inhuman noise after another, as though human speech itself no longer belonged in his throat.
His face started changing into something resembling the fishman on the statue.
His eyes bulged outward like those of a frog.
His skin turned a slick grey-green.
The mere sight of it would have made any sane person recoil in disgust.
But Flint himself seemed to feel none of that.
Instead, his face was full of intoxicated awe.
"Beautiful. Too beautiful."
"This body…"
"Kill Theodore Ashbourne. Offer him as sacrifice to Father—and I'll be allowed to return to the deep sea and gain eternal life!"
Yet the fishman statue's transformation was only the beginning.
The next instant, it was as if one hidden, evil gaze after another had opened somewhere in the dark corners of the magical world, all of them falling at once upon Flint—the carrier still capable of appearing openly in the human world.
Different currents of madness flooded into him in waves.
More and more eyes burst open across his body.
More and more tentacles writhed out of him.
Only once he had become something entirely inhuman—something wholly monstrous—did the incoming tide of madness finally stop.
Flint stared down at his transformed body and let out a garbled laugh, so twisted that it could barely still be called human speech.
"The other great gods have blessed me too."
"An eternal life."
"An undying body."
"An immortal soul."
"And magical power stronger than any wizard's…"
"With this kind of power, what is Theodore Ashbourne? Even if Dumbledore himself came, he would still die!"
Then, accompanied by one low, fanatical murmur after another praising Father Dagon and the other great gods, that mass of writhing shadow kept moving toward St Mungo's.
…
New text rose once more on the System screen.
[Because you have made enemies of the whole world, the Saints are enraged and Heavenly Dao descends in punishment.]
[A descendant of a great demon, bearing the will of a Saint, has received the Saint's transmitted art and now comes to kill you, seeking to seize the position of sainthood in the coming tribulation.]
[The enemy is powerful and his divine abilities formidable.]
[System suggestion: The host should run first and ask questions later.]
[Earth-Traveling Divine Movement may be used to burrow deep into the ley lines and perhaps evade the sensing of the Saints.]
Theodore's eyes filled with contempt.
Cowardly System.
A moment ago it had been swaggering shamelessly.
Now that it sensed "Saintly wrath" and "Heavenly punishment," it wanted to tuck its tail and run?
"Pathetic."
That said—
if this were truly the primordial world, and some heaven-proud talent carrying the will of a Saint, armed with a saint-bestowed treasure, had come to kill him—
then Theodore would indeed have had little choice. Escaping would already have been a miracle.
In the primordial world, once a Saint acted, there was simply no surviving beneath the Saint realm.
A mere treasure bestowed by Primordial Beginning could crush a Great Luo Golden Immortal's skull.
A wave of a Saint's sleeve could reduce the Three Fairies who laid the Nine-Curves Yellow River Formation to the most miserable end.
One turned into a pool of blood.
One had her soul dispersed.
One was forever suppressed beneath Qilin Cliff.
Even quasi-saints could not withstand a casual arrangement by a Saint.
How much less Theodore?
Fortunately, though—
this was not the primordial world.
The one who had truly received saintly inheritance—
the one who was the genuine disciple of the Chan sect's Jade Void Palace—
was him.
A heaven-proud talent?
Theodore himself was the unparalleled heaven-proud talent of the magical world.
A cold light slowly spread through his eyes.
"Some petty arrangement by the magical world's horrors?"
"If they truly come, I'll just kill them."
"And besides, the more kinds of horror use that thing as a vessel, the better suited it becomes as the primary ingredient for the Myriad-Demon Golden Pill."
At once, fiery text swept across the System screen.
[The host's Dao heart is invincible. He believes himself capable of sweeping all aside.]
[What if a Saint has transmitted the law? I have created the Mythic Great Dao method. I walk the road of the Mythic Great Dao. How could such mediocre creatures, shackled to the paths of others, possibly compare to me?]
[I am a heaven-proud talent. I shall suppress all enemies beneath heaven and earth. On the road to sainthood, all foes shall become bones beneath my feet!]
At that same moment, Neville's parents—Frank and Alice Longbottom—were finally a little clearer than they had been at any point in the last decade.
They had lain in St Mungo's for more than ten years.
Though most of that time had passed in fog, they had nevertheless come to despise this place instinctively.
And after so many years without seeing Neville or Augusta, all they wanted now was to return to the Longbottom home and reclaim, as much as they could, the family warmth stolen from them.
Theodore turned to the St Mungo's healers, all of whom were still staring at him with burning fascination after witnessing the effects of the Clear Spirit Pill, and said calmly,
"That's enough for today."
"Memorize the formula."
"If questions come up later, I'll explain them to you all together."
Then, under the almost reverent escort of the St Mungo's healers, Theodore and the others cast another pinch of Floo Powder, stepped into the emerald flames, and traveled once more toward the Longbottom home.
But in the very next instant, amid the usual spinning disorientation of Floo travel, they did not emerge from the Longbottom fireplace.
Instead—
they appeared upon a beach of jagged stone, black seawater, and suffocating stench, where the very air seemed saturated with malice.
Everyone's eyes widened.
"What happened?"
"Did the Floo fail?"
"Or did something go wrong?"
"Merlin's beard—where even is this? Is there really any beach in Britain this disgusting?"
The sight before them made every one of them shudder.
Jagged black rocks.
Waves smashing against stone.
The shrill wind whistling through gaps in the rock like screaming mouths.
Everything in this place radiated naked malice.
It gave off an unease so deep it seemed older than memory itself.
It felt like the blood remembered something ancient—and was terrified.
Hermione, Harry, and the others gripped their wands so hard their knuckles turned white.
Then a thick, raspy voice sounded across the beach, slurred and disgusting, like some half-human creature trying to mimic human speech.
"Welcome…"
"To behold this sacred land should fill you with incomparable honor."
At once, all eyes turned toward the source of the voice.
And the very next moment, when they saw the thing that had spoken, even Hermione and Harry—who had seen a three-headed dog with their own eyes—went deathly pale.
It was as though ice had been jammed directly into their veins. A freezing revulsion spread through their blood, carrying with it an instinctive nausea.
The creature in front of them was a writhing mass beyond easy description.
The only remotely human thing about it was a face grotesquely similar to Marcus Flint's—
which somehow made it even more sickening.
"Flint?"
"What in Merlin's name… did you do to yourself?!"
Hermione's trembling voice drew a hideous laugh from the creature.
"Filthy little Mudblood…"
"How could you ever understand the power that flows through the blood of pure-blood nobility?"
"The great gods granted me stronger magic…"
"A more beautiful body…"
"This is a blessing only pure blood can receive. This is invincible power!"
"You should feel honored beyond words to be chosen as offerings for Father…"
The garbled, nauseating speech had not yet finished when Theodore interrupted it with a frown.
"Invincible?"
"You just said invincible?"
Then Theodore let out a snort of laughter.
"This?"
"This is your idea of invincibility?"
"Priority delivery. A free meal brought right to my door."
"You seem to have some very serious misconceptions about what invincible means."
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