The God-Lord

Hao Nhien did not rush any farther.

The Soul Art continued circulating very slowly, maintaining only a thin layer of perception around the Heavenly Eye tablet—enough for him to sense the fluctuations that existed there, but not deep enough to provoke any stronger reaction.

That familiar feeling immediately made him think of Dai Vuong.

Years ago, Hao Nhien had personally sensed a powerful consciousness tracing the marks of his soul in search of what was hidden within the Cosmic Ark.

The fluctuation before him was not entirely the same.

But the way it touched back against the Soul Art brought that memory into sharp focus.

Only afterward did another name slowly rise in his thoughts.

Hoang Sam.

Not because Hao Nhien had ever met the man.

He had not.

But because every clue connected to Heavenly Eye, the God-Lord, and its faith seemed to lead eventually toward that name.

Hao Nhien did not rush to connect the two.

There was far too little evidence to conclude that Dai Vuong had anything to do with Hoang Sam, much less to determine who or what the presence around this tablet belonged to.

The only thing he could be certain of was that this place was not being maintained by a formation alone.

It could receive something.

It could react to the Soul Art.

And at the same time, it was gathering an extremely faint force that Hao Nhien had sensed more than once in completely different places.

In Hoa Van, when the people of the clan sincerely placed their hopes in him.

In Lac Van, when people who had spent years trapped in poverty began to believe that the road ahead might truly change.

Even within Heavenly Eye City, when thousands of people directed their faith toward something they had never actually seen.

Trust.

Reverence.

Hope.

Obedience.

These things had no physical form, yet somehow they seemed capable of giving rise to a kind of force.

Hao Nhien kept the Soul Art at a careful distance while a possibility gradually took shape in his mind.

If what existed here truly had some connection to Hoang Sam, then the tablet might be some kind of anchor—a place used to receive, gather, or transmit the power generated by belief.

But that thought immediately revealed something wrong.

There was far too little of that power here.

This tablet had clearly existed within Heavenly Eye for an unknown number of years, while Heavenly Eye had continuously gathered believers and forced tribes throughout the Western Wastes to submit.

If all the power born from that faith truly accumulated here, then what Hao Nhien was sensing could not possibly be this weak.

So where had the rest gone?

Had it been transferred somewhere else?

Absorbed by some existence?

Or did this kind of force operate according to rules completely different from what he currently understood?

Hao Nhien did not know.

Nor did he intend to force himself to know immediately.

At the very least, he had glimpsed one corner of the problem.

For now, observing was enough.

Just then, another fluctuation appeared ahead.

Quan Nha.

Hao Nhien immediately focused.

Her soul power was changing, but not through any violent eruption.

It was more like an invisible veil slowly opening, gradually coming into contact with the force gathered around the Heavenly Eye tablet.

The sensation reminded Hao Nhien of the Quan Family secret realm.

Back then, he too had stood before another path of the soul, one in which the souls of others could become nourishment for oneself.

He had felt its attraction.

He had even been given the chance to step onto that path.

But in the end, he had refused.

Afterward, all seven platforms had acknowledged him at once, and the Soul Art had come to him through another path.

Quan Nha had passed through that secret realm as well.

She had also received something that belonged to her.

And because of the blood oath, she could never explain exactly what had happened inside.

Hao Nhien had never forced her to speak of it.

But long ago, he had formed a suspicion.

What he sensed now only made that suspicion clearer.

Devouring.

He still could not be certain.

But the resemblance was too strong to ignore completely.

A copied chapter appears here without the author's consent, although the official page where it is published supports the author.

Quan Nha’s soul power slowly spread outward and wrapped around the force gathered near the tablet.

Hao Nhien kept his perception exactly where it was.

He did not interfere.

He simply observed every small change.

For a long while, there was no retaliation.

No conflict either.

If anything, that made him even more cautious.

If the force around the tablet were simply too weak to resist Quan Nha, that could be explained.

But what Hao Nhien sensed did not resemble a process of forceful consumption.

There was no struggle.

No obvious collision between two kinds of soul power.

Everything was proceeding too smoothly.

As though whatever existed around the Heavenly Eye did not know how to refuse.

Or perhaps it did not consider Quan Nha’s soul power something that needed to be refused.

Hao Nhien frowned slightly.

Quan Nha’s soul power continued to spread, slowly but steadily.

After some time, the distinct presence around the tablet began to fade.

It did not vanish at once.

Instead, it seemed to be drawn little by little into the layer of soul power surrounding her.

Hao Nhien remained still, but the Soul Art began circulating a little faster.

He did not know how much of this Quan Nha was doing deliberately.

Nor did he know whether the entire process lay within her expectations.

For now, all he could do was observe and prepare to intervene if something went wrong.

Several breaths later, the change began spreading farther.

Not only through the force around the tablet.

The invisible threads of fluctuation scattered throughout the chamber also began to move.

Before, all of them had pointed toward the Heavenly Eye.

Now, their direction of convergence was changing.

Very slowly.

So subtly that anyone without the Soul Art would have struggled to notice.

One thread after another began leaving the old center and turning toward Quan Nha.

Hao Nhien’s pupils contracted slightly.

He still did not understand the mechanism.

He did not know whether this was the effect of her devouring ability, whether the anchor within the tablet was actively redirecting that force toward her, or whether contact with it had somehow made Quan Nha part of the system itself.

He stopped guessing.

Because immediately afterward, Hao Nhien sensed another unmistakable change.

The soul aura around Quan Nha had become deeper.

It was not an increase that could be easily measured.

Nor did it resemble a cultivation breakthrough.

It was simply that, from Hao Nhien’s perspective, a faint layer of distance had suddenly appeared between them on the level of the soul.

A distance that had never existed before.

Like a lake he had known intimately being suddenly connected to a hidden underground current, so that the person standing at its shore could no longer see the bottom as clearly as before.

Hao Nhien maintained the Soul Art for a little longer.

Then an invisible fluctuation suddenly swept outward.

There was no sound.

No eruption of spiritual power.

Yet his soul still shook instantly.

He withdrew the Soul Art almost at once.

He did not resist.

He did not try to force himself to perceive any deeper.

When he opened his eyes, Quan Nha was still standing before the altar.

From her silhouette to her hair, her figure, and the clothes she had worn since morning, nothing had changed.

Yet Hao Nhien suddenly felt as though a distance had appeared between them.

Not the few zhang of space within the chamber.

Something far harder to describe.

An invisible layer had somehow inserted itself between them, leaving her still directly before him and yet farther away than before.

Before he could understand that feeling, he noticed that the reactions of the four Deputy City Lords beside him were changing as well.

Huu Liet was staring at Quan Nha, his eyes wider than usual.

The man who always stood like a great stone now unconsciously lowered his shoulders.

Hao Nhien sensed no force pressing down on him.

No soul power was directly invading his mind.

Yet Huu Liet’s gaze was no longer the same as when he had entered the chamber.

The scrutiny and doubt from before were fading.

In their place appeared something Hao Nhien had seen countless times throughout Heavenly Eye.

Only now, it was far stronger.

Reverence.

Huu Liet slowly lowered his head.

Tien Phong reacted as well.

He looked first at the tablet, then at Quan Nha.

The hand he had held behind his back gradually lowered.

Ta Minh did not move immediately.

His eyes kept shifting between Quan Nha and the Heavenly Eye tablet, as though some part of his reason still wanted to verify every change for itself.

Trung Vu remained standing the longest.

He did not even look at the other three Deputy City Lords.

His attention stayed entirely on Quan Nha.

Hao Nhien said nothing.

He wanted to know what these four men were actually feeling.

Then another layer of fluctuation slowly spread outward from around Quan Nha.

It did not resemble an attack.

Nor was it a deliberate pressure meant to force others down.

It simply existed.

But the moment it reached Hao Nhien, his soul trembled once more.

A heavy sensation silently descended over him.

There was no killing intent.

No intention to crush his soul.

And yet the level of that fluctuation made Hao Nhien feel as though he were standing beneath a higher sky, where the mere existence of the other side was enough to make one instinctively recognize the difference between them.

The Soul Art began circulating on its own to preserve his sense of self.

Hao Nhien did not retreat.

But in that exact instant, an extremely vague thought brushed across his awareness.

It was not a voice.

Nor did it resemble a direct command.

It was more like a tendency transmitted into the mind, making whoever encountered it naturally want to lower themselves, listen, and obey.

Hao Nhien’s gaze immediately turned cold.

The Soul Art surged in response.

The thought that had slipped into his awareness quickly dissolved.

He remained where he stood.

But his vigilance rose sharply.

Even when the Soul Sword had rebounded against his own soul, it had never created a sensation like this.

What made it frightening was not raw power.

It was that whatever was now spreading from Quan Nha seemed able to touch a deeper layer of awareness, causing those who encountered it to naturally develop the impulse to submit and obey.

Hao Nhien had no idea how much of that force Quan Nha had absorbed.

Nor could he determine whether the anchor within the tablet had existed for a hundred years, five hundred years, or even longer.

He could only be certain of one thing.

The change occurring before him was anything but small.

Then Huu Liet slowly knelt.

Hao Nhien saw the entire movement clearly.

No invisible force pushed his head down.

No soul power drove his knees into the stone.

Huu Liet lowered himself entirely by his own movement.

He bowed his head and placed both hands before him.

The massive body that had always seemed immovable now trembled faintly.

Tien Phong stood beside him in silence for a while longer.

Then he too slowly knelt.

Ta Minh remained standing longer than either of them.

His gaze continued moving between Quan Nha and the Heavenly Eye tablet, as though part of his mind was still testing every sensation that appeared within himself.

But the longer he watched, the harder it became to maintain the cold expression on his face.

Eventually, his knees slowly descended to the stone floor as well.

Trung Vu was the last to remain standing.

He did not look at the other three Deputy City Lords.

He only stared at the Heavenly Eye tablet.

It was then that Hao Nhien finally noticed that the eye symbol carved upon it had dimmed slightly.

It had not disappeared.

But the center of the room had completely changed.

Before, every fluctuation had been directed toward the tablet.

Now they were directed toward Quan Nha.

Trung Vu stared at that change for a long time.

Finally, he too slowly knelt.

The four Deputy City Lords did not look at one another.

No one gave an order.

Yet all four were kneeling before the same person.

A faint chill ran down Hao Nhien’s spine.

What made him wary was not the fact that they had lowered themselves.

It was that from beginning to end, he had sensed no clear sign of their souls being forced.

The faith had already existed inside them.

Whatever Quan Nha had just absorbed seemed only to have given that faith a new center toward which it could turn.

In the heavy silence, Huu Liet was the first to speak.

“God-Lord…”

His voice was very low.

Almost nothing more than an unconscious invocation.

At that exact moment, Quan Nha opened her eyes.

Hao Nhien’s soul trembled again.

The eyes before him were still the eyes he had seen countless times.

But the feeling they gave him was completely different.

The familiar liveliness was gone.

So was the faint trace of mischief that often appeared when she looked at him.

In its place was a calmness so deep that almost no ripple could be seen within it.

Quan Nha looked at the four men kneeling before her.

She showed no surprise.

Nor did she ask why they were kneeling.

Her gaze passed over them one by one with such natural ease that the scene before her seemed as though it had always been meant to be this way.

Hao Nhien’s fingers tightened slightly without him realizing it.

After a while, Quan Nha finally spoke.

Her voice was not loud, but it was clear enough for everyone in the chamber to hear.

“You wanted to meet the God-Lord.”

No one answered.

Quan Nha raised her gaze slightly and looked down at the four men still kneeling before her.

Then she said calmly,

“I am here.”