Chapter 722: The Scorching Sun Manuscript

Three days later, in August.

Cassius still perched atop the same mountain, stabilizing his tier and experiencing the power gained from his ascension—while also studying the Hell Core carved out from Zariel’s chest.

Suddenly, an emergency transmission interrupted his experiment.

"Your Majesty, we found something... unusual at the Sun God’s Tower." Langpu’s magical projection appeared before Cassius.

At this moment, a rare mix of tension and excitement showed on the ogre’s ugly face. Having been Langpu’s superior for years, Cassius could already guess what he had discovered just by looking at his expression.

A deity.

At present, only something related to a deity could cause the current Imperial Prime Minister to lose composure and contact him with such urgency.

"I’ll be right there," Cassius replied tersely.

Crimson light flickered across the red dragon’s scales. His enormous body rapidly shrank into billowing white smoke. From the smoke emerged a tall humanoid figure.

The smoke dispersed in mere seconds. The mountain-sized red dragon had transformed into a noble-looking young man with red hair and golden eyes—this was Cassius in his humanoid form.

"Better be cautious. August City is the center of attention now—who knows how many eyes are secretly watching it." Cassius shook his head and chuckled at himself.

To avoid attracting attention, he had deliberately used his transformation spell—one he hadn’t employed in a long time, to the point that he felt a bit rusty.

A glimmer passed through his pale-gold eyes as space twisted before him. A flaming teleportation gate appeared, and without hesitation, he stepped through.

"Whoosh—"

In the next instant, Cassius arrived at the top of the Eternal Sun God Tower—above the solar disk.

The surrounding decor was magnificent and opulent, though somewhat empty. Aside from Langpu, no one else was present. In Langpu’s hand was a tightly gripped golden scroll.

"Master, you’ve finally arrived!"

Seeing the emperor, Langpu rushed forward excitedly, kneeling respectfully at his feet.

Because Cassius’s humanoid form was much smaller than an ogre, Langpu had even cast a shrink spell on himself to appear less than two meters tall.

Cassius gave him a flat glance and ordered, "Get up. No one else saw this thing, right?"

Langpu quickly rose and carefully handed over the scroll, replying, "Master, I’ve already cleared out all unrelated personnel. Not even the guards remained. I also used magic to create a prophecy fog—even Tier 9 divination spells can’t easily spy on this place.

Moreover, I swear on my soul that I only read part of the scroll’s beginning. I had absolutely no intent of coveting it."

"Not bad. You were thorough."

Cassius nodded slightly and took the scroll.

Langpu tactfully stepped back, saying, "Master, rest assured, I’ve given a death order to the guards nearby—any trespassers are to be killed on sight!"

After Langpu retreated, Cassius unrolled the scroll. The very first line caught him off guard and immediately explained why Langpu had summoned him so urgently.

"The Scorching Sun Manuscript"

—Emperor of Fadlan, Aragon I

New Calendar 1753, Night of Falling Stars

I had a fierce argument with the High Pontiff. He believed we should not use the power granted by the Sun God to expand our territory.

But I challenged that notion—Fadlan’s people are born of the sun. All light in this world rightfully belongs to us.

The High Pontiff and I parted on bad terms.

New Calendar 1759, Starless Night

Our troops returned from the ruins with a Netherese tome. Within it, I discovered a shocking secret.

It turns out that gods are not born divine. Even the exalted Sun God, worshiped by millions, was once mortal—no different from us.

A bold, almost blasphemous thought filled my mind—could I replace Him and become a god?

New Calendar 1762, Month of Withered Wheat

Scouts from the far north brought back a slate left by Karsus. From it, I saw the truth of the original Magic Goddess’s death and the Weave’s collapse.

But even more importantly—I learned gods can die. Though exceedingly difficult, deities can be slain by mortals.

"A god is not eternal—they are merely thieves of borrowed time."

New Calendar 1773, Dry Season, Cloudless

After more than a decade of searching, the chief arcanist of the Arcane Legion brought me the final Karsus slate, granting me the complete Apotheosis Ritual.

But the High Pontiff of Amanata’s Church came to warn me not to be blinded by power.

Absurd. The gods imprison mortals in the Material Plane, greedily hoarding unmatched power—yet these foolish lapdogs still protect their so-called gods.

So months later, I killed him, ripped out his heart, and used Karsus’s secret arts to blind the Sun God’s eyes.

Once again, I proved it—gods are not omniscient, nor omnipotent.

New Calendar 1778, Full Moon Night

I won’t be like that "Momentary God" Karsus, who briefly tasted divinity only to perish. That would be far too foolish.

I shall become an eternal god—and my empire, an eternal nation.

I will erect three Sun God Towers. The foolish Sun God Church thinks I’ve finally accepted their faith—but little do they know these will be my divine anchors, stepping stones on my path to godhood.

New Calendar 1785, Frost Month

The ritual is about to begin. I am fully prepared.

I fashioned the High Pontiff’s heart into an artifact. I trust my dear deity will appreciate the "offering."

I extracted the left eyes of 1,000 blind newborns born at dawn, forging them into the "Eclipsed Eye Crown" to complete this blasphemous ritual against the sun.

However, when I ordered a nationwide search for dawn-born blind infants, my trusted Royal Guard Commander hesitated—so I chopped off his head.

As expected, mortals can’t comprehend my grand ideals.

New Calendar 1786, Time of the Scorching Sun

(Handwriting frantic, singe marks present)

I am ready for everything!

He cannot win.

He says godslayers will become rotting gravestones. Says night is merely when His eyes close. Says my name is written in His blood on the back of every star—

Impossible! Just another lie to deceive mortals! I shall be eternal!

There’s no turning back now.

(Last line heavily scribbled over, barely legible: "I am the sun.")

"As expected, this was the old emperor’s obsession—to replace Amanata and become the Eternal Sun God."

"It’s a pity his life was too short. A century of struggle couldn’t compete with others’ millennia of accumulation. In the end, he became just another ’Momentary God.’"

Cassius read the manuscript thoroughly and sighed, visibly moved.

But he quickly gathered the key information from the scroll and organized it—it wasn’t a diary; it was practically a complete "Godslaying Manual."

Within moments, Cassius had extracted the following points:

1. Apotheosis requires seizing the divine spark.

2. One needs at least 100,000 devout believers and three holy sites to anchor their divinity—without them, like Karsus, the godhood will collapse.

3. A suitable Law Vessel is needed to contain the new god’s power—otherwise, they might explode like Aragon I.

4. Apotheosis rituals must be held simultaneously at all three holy sites, channeling faith to ignite the divine fire.

The altars must be drenched in sacrilegious blood, inscribed with the Karsus slates’ incantations, and etched with the true god’s name to seize their domain.

Gazing at his organized notes, Cassius fell deep into thought. "This ritual isn’t that harsh. For me, most of the conditions are manageable.

The issue is that the incantations were split into three parts, stored in the three Sun God Towers. The complete apotheosis method is likely buried in Fadlan’s ’Holy City.’"

Only by unifying Fadlan could one obtain the full godhood ritual. That was probably the old emperor’s contingency—only his worthiest descendant could inherit his will.

Too bad fate had other plans. That long-dead emperor likely never imagined a red dragon would swoop in halfway and snatch his legacy.

"Heh, no wonder the three kings are fighting tooth and nail over the Holy City. They see it as a chance to become gods." Cassius chuckled mockingly.

At the same time, Cassius also realized—the path to godhood came at a cost.

First was divine corruption. Failures might disintegrate on the spot or mutate into divine abominations.

Aragon I’s madness and delirium before the ritual were likely due to divine pollution.

The second danger was backlash from the Laws. The divine fire could burn the host’s soul into oblivion.

Third was persecution by the gods. Nearly every newly born deity faced divine war—especially one aiming for a powerful domain like the Sun God. Countless gods would covet that seat.

Cassius carefully stored the golden scroll and stood atop the Sun Tower, looking down upon the vast land.

"Even if it’s a one-in-ten chance of survival, I won’t let this opportunity go."

He clenched his fist. Under the sunlight, his golden eyes sparkled. "Everything in the Fadlan Empire will belong to the Ember Empire."

"Master, someone has requested an audience."

At the base of the Sun God Tower, Langpu had been waiting, holding up a piece of parchment.

Cassius was still mulling over the old emperor’s manuscript and didn’t even lift his head. He casually asked, "Who is it?"

"I don’t know."

"Even you can’t tell who they are?" Cassius finally paid attention and looked at the parchment in Langpu’s hand.

The parchment was yellowed and stained, seemingly with dried blood—but strangely, there wasn’t a single word written on it.

"He looked like an ordinary mortal, no special traits at all. Even divination spells showed nothing unusual."

"Heh, the Weave can be deceived. If one’s spellcasting is strong enough, lying becomes child’s play."

Now intrigued, Cassius rubbed his chin and asked, "Did this person leave any message? Surely not just a blank sheet?"

"Of course, but..."

The ogre lowered his head. Shame, humiliation, and rage all contorted his ugly face. Cassius rarely saw such rich expressions on him.

After a pause, Langpu growled through gritted teeth, "Master, that arrogant bastard claimed to be your future superior.

"He also said that if you don’t come, he’ll make you suffer a terrible price." As he finished, Langpu’s voice brimmed with killing intent, as if he wanted to grind his teeth to dust.

"Oh?"

"Something like that, huh?"

A gleam flashed in Cassius’s eyes—his interest was piqued.

Langpu fell to his knees with a thud and roared in shame, "Master, this is an insult to you! And my failure! To let such a thing happen under my watch.

Please rest assured, I will find out his identity tonight and show him that the dignity of the Empire is untouchable!"

"Future superior..."

Cassius’s gaze dropped as he fell into thought.

That kind of title, that kind of method, that kind of... arrogance—treating a Legendary like Langpu as a foolish plaything.

In mere moments, Cassius had a rough idea who it was—and his heart sank.

With that thought, Cassius waved his hand. "Stand down. No need to investigate further."

Langpu thought the emperor was angry and hurriedly begged, "Master, please give me another chance, I swear I will—"

But Cassius took the parchment from his hand and said calmly, "If I’m not mistaken, given who that man is, if he truly wishes to remain hidden—not even I can find him."

"Even you..."

Langpu was shaken to the core by Cassius’s words. His face froze in shock, and he dared not say another word.

Cassius unrolled the parchment, and sure enough—blood-red writing slowly appeared, visible only to him.

[Withered Rose Tavern]

The "Withered Rose" Tavern was located within the Empire, in a remote corner of Blackstone Fortress. It was famous for its drow dancer performances and a favorite of bards.

Business there was always booming. Locals and travelers alike came from far and wide just to admire the exotic beauty of the drow dancers.

"Yeah! That was amazing!"

"Encore!"

Fueled by alcohol, the crowd flushed with excitement, voices rising in frenzy as paper currency fluttered through the air.

At that moment, no one noticed a lean man with a goatee appear in a shadowy corner of the tavern.

He casually took a seat, resting one hand lazily on a black cane. He seemed to be waiting for something. His pitch-black eyes gleamed faintly in the darkness.