Divine Flame Crystal

Chapter 627 God’s Breath

The crowd in the square booed and cursed, but the councillors in the video were inaudible, absorbed in their own flattery. Xingluo watched coldly, a silent sneer in his heart: These so-called elites, how humble! He knew that once the shackles of faith were cast, they were difficult to break free. The priest on the platform had an expressionless face, the branding stone in his hand like a scepter, controlling everything. The councillors' pleas sounded to him like a symphony of power. At this moment, the hypocrisy of the Divine Council was laid bare. A subtle sneer crossed the priest's lips, and his gaze, like an icy blade, swept over each prostrate figure. The more humble they were, the more secure his power would be. Xingluo thought to himself that this so-called holy light was nothing more than a tool used by rulers to tame the people. Though suppressed, the people's anger surged like an undercurrent, ready to erupt one day. Every step the priest took was on the ruins of faith, but he didn't know that there was an abyss under his feet.

In the end, everyone's forehead was branded with a bright red mark - it was the mark of the God of Light, and also the chains they had exchanged for their dignity. Xingluo turned and left, secretly vowing in his heart that one day he would break these shackles. The boos in the square gradually faded, but the people's eyes became more determined. Although they were silent, the seeds of resistance had been planted in their hearts. No matter how long the priest's staff was, it could not hide the awakening of the people's hearts. As night fell, the starlight was dim, but it heralded new hope. Under the cover of night, Luoluo's claws quietly stretched out, and a hint of desire appeared in his eyes. Xiaohei was still guarding outside the door, his dark blue eyes piercing the darkness, as if waiting for some kind of signal. In Xingluo's heart, the oath flickered like starlight. He knew that although the road to breaking the shackles was long, with the company of partners like Luoluo and Xiaohei, one day, light would no longer be just a tool of the rulers.

The shadow looked down at them, his eyes still cold, as if he didn't care at all about the pleas and flattery of these mortals.

Ying's fingers lightly touched the hilt of the sword at his waist, and a hint of determination flashed in his eyes.

The people saw it clearly - these powerful people whom they once thought were invincible were actually just a group of slaves who were eager to kowtow to the Holy See of Light. Even the most basic human dignity had long been thrown away on the carpet of light.

The public's anger surged. Xingluo turned and left, laughing inwardly: This show is nothing more than a game of power. He passed through the crowd, his gaze like a knife, slicing through the hypocritical facade. The public's anger burned behind him, but no one dared to step forward. He knew that true power lies not on the platform, but in the heart.

Within a few days, the Divine Council split into two factions: one was overthrown by angry citizens, and the other fled to the Holy See for refuge.

Mo circled the locations of the fleeing MPs on the map with a red pen. Xingluo took a look and sneered:

"The more you run, the easier it will be when the time comes."

Xing Luo frowned slightly as he held the information about the Holy Spirit Legion in his hand. To him, the Holy Spirit Legion was the most difficult to deal with.

However, looking at the latest intelligence, he breathed a sigh of relief. Their strength needed to return to the "Holy Light Spring" every six months to replenish their divinity, otherwise they would quickly decline into ordinary paladins. With the Holy Light Spring, they not only had the ability to recover quickly, but their strength would also be further improved. Now, the top combat power on the continent, apart from the demigods of the Holy See of Light, was this group of beings that far surpassed the Knights of Light. A glint of cunning flashed in Xingluo's eyes, and he secretly calculated in his heart: If the Holy Light Spring can be cut off, the Holy Spirit Legion will collapse on its own. He knew very well that the power of the Holy See of Light was not unshakable, and the key was to find the only flaw. As the night deepened, Xingluo quietly left, followed closely by Luoluo and Xiaohei. Their figures looked particularly determined in the moonlight. A secret war for the Holy Light Spring was quietly beginning.

Xingluo decided to start from the root cause.

Pandora stood at the windward edge of the cliff, her long hair fluttering in the night breeze. Her eyes held both calm determination and a deep-seated fear. The "Gate of Trial" before her slowly opened, revealing a crack as cold as bone.

Behind that crack was the family's ancient trial ground—the ruins of the ancient gods. Only by passing the trials here could one obtain a wisp of the remaining "divine aura" for fusion.

After Xingluo learned of Pandora's experience, she advised her not to go there again, saying that the atmosphere there was already broken, like wind that hadn't been breathed in thousands of years, and it might even carry a curse. But Pandora just smiled and said, "If I don't come back, just assume I'm asleep somewhere... But if you dare forget me, even if I become undead, I will still haunt you."

Xingluo didn't say anything at the time, but just reached out to help her tidy up her hair. At that moment, Pandora felt that she was no longer alone.

In the Trial Field, there were no dazzling lights, no altar chants, only a dead, gray lake. In the center of the lake floated a crystal-clear heart—a relic of a long-fallen ancient god, from which only the true heir could extract the "divine aura."

Pandora pressed her hand on the lake surface, and the water immediately turned into countless ice blades, piercing into her flesh and blood along her arms, draining away her vitality bit by bit.

On the first day, her pulse grew weak, and her blood created pale blue ripples on the lake's surface;

On the second day, her heartbeat seemed to synchronize with the heart of the lake, and every breath was painful;

On the third day, a glint of light appeared in her eyes—that was the gaze of the ancient god.

At the final moment, the heart suddenly exploded, and a warm and unfamiliar force flowed into her body through her veins—that was the "divine breath." It was not gentle, but rather like a cold snake, coiling around her heart and testing her soul.

Pandora almost fainted, but she bit her lip and guarded this power tightly. Because she knew that this was not only the only key for the family to recognize her, but also what she wanted to give to Xingluo.

When Pandora returned, she looked as if bathed in moonlight—her skin translucent, her eyes deep. She condensed her divine aura into a thread and quietly passed it to Xingluo.

"When will it be used?" she asked.

Xingluo raised an eyebrow, grasped the aura in his palm, and slowly merged it with his own magic power. The divine flame crystal in his body ignited a faint light, "reshaping" the divine aura into an aura similar to that of a high-level divine messenger.

He changed into a platinum robe, draped over his shoulders a silver-feathered cloak symbolizing a temple messenger, and a simulated "Holy Brilliant Crystal" was embedded in his forehead. Under the Holy Order's identification array, such aura and demeanor were almost impossible to distinguish between genuine and fake.

Pandora glanced at him, the corners of her mouth curled up slightly: "If I didn't know you were a liar, I might have believed you."

Xingluo walked over, lowered his head and said seriously in her ear: "Thank you for your hard work, don't take risks next time"

The tips of her ears flushed slightly, and she glared at him, but didn't back away.

Xingluo's goal was to infiltrate the Holy Spring Ceremony held by the Church of Light in the northern border. The spring, said to be the fountain of life left behind when the Holy Light descended, was long guarded by high-ranking divine messengers of the Church. Only those possessing divine aura or certified by the Holy Order could approach the spring and participate in its sealing and purification.

The annual Holy Spring Ceremony is one of the most important theocratic rituals of the Church of Light. It not only symbolizes that "the Holy Light still flows here," but also serves as a crucial means for the Church to demonstrate its legitimacy to the entire continent. On this day, all countries and cities that believe in the God of Light cease all trade and close their gates. Citizens spontaneously kneel on both sides of the streets to welcome the procession of divine messengers from the Holy Mountain.

The centerpiece of the ceremony was the "Holy Spring Square" in the heart of the Holy City. The square was circular, nearly a hundred meters in diameter, and surrounded by seven towering holy stone pillars. Each pillar was inlaid with fist-sized holy crystals, which reflected a pale golden glow in the sunlight.

The Holy Spring stood in the center of the square. Carved from silver and ivory, its edges were inscribed with ancient runes of the Holy Order. The water was crystal clear, and deep within flowed a silky golden light—said to be the purest form of Holy Light in water. Xingluo took a deep breath and gazed determinedly toward the Holy Spring Square. He knew this journey was not only about his own fate, but also about uncovering the deepest secrets of the Church. Pandora grasped his hand tightly, her eyes gleaming with both trust and concern. The two stepped into the square side by side, the divine aura and the runes of the Holy Order mingling, as if foreshadowing the coming storm.