Chapter 1162 370: Ian's Influence on History (Part 3)

The river breeze suddenly shifted, carrying the scent of burning from the direction of the temple.

Ian stood up, his black robe's hem sweeping across the sand, erasing all the patterns. He looked towards the city shrouded in a pillar of blood-red light on the other side, his voice as calm as if explaining the basic principles of the Transformation Technique: "The power of the gods stems from faith, so it must be perfect, it must meet expectations—this is precisely the greatest shackle."

Have you ever thought about why the divine spirits need believers? Why do they accept sacrifices, prayers, offerings? Because they are defined by 'faith'. Their power comes from 'being believed', their existence relies on 'being worshipped'. Once no one believes in them, they will dissipate, like ashes in the wind."

"Gods are immutable. Once they are given a 'Divine Rank'—God of War, God of Wisdom, God of Death—they can only ever be that 'god'. They cannot change, cannot question, cannot doubt. They are imprisoned by their own 'divinity', like prisoners locked in a golden cage."

"This is the cost of gaining something and naturally having to bear the burden. The divine spirits have chosen this path, and thus must bear the cost of this path, allowing themselves to be trapped in their divine rank."

"There are benefits, but there are also drawbacks, and in fact, the drawbacks outweigh the benefits."

He turned to look directly at Cam.

"But wizards are different. We embrace mistakes, explore contradictions, and dance on the edge of paradox. It is precisely this uncertainty that brings us closer to the truth than any god."

"Moreover, we have infinite possibilities; all we need is to believe—believe that we ourselves are the true power." Ian spoke of the philosophy he had summarized along his journey.

"What!? Is there really such a theory?"

Cam's eyes gradually widened. He subconsciously reached for the Dusk Hermit Association's emblem in his bosom, the design of the setting sun was slightly warm.

"Are you saying...that magic itself is more..."

"I'm saying that the divine spirits are merely a powerful form of existence." Ian's broken staff suddenly burst into silver light, sketching a model of quantum clouds in the air.

"And the most fascinating aspect of this universe is—"

The clouds split and reformed, transforming into various essences of the universe, changing under Ian's influence, "as observers, wizards can alter the nature of the observed object."

This is what makes wizards different; every wizard holds a portion of the Creator's power, a truth that many wizards themselves do not understand, but which Ian had uncovered.

Now.

A truth given without reservation to a wizard actually not younger than himself.

"So that's how it is...In fact, we also have similar ideas within the Dusk Hermit Association, but you seem to explain it more thoroughly." Cam slumped onto the icy ground, still catching his breath, but his gaze never left Ian. He looked at this companion, no longer merely in awe, but with something close to adoration.

Cam felt a warm current surge in his heart. He had always thought the end of magic was to become a deity, to gain supreme power. But Ian told him—the true magic is to never become a 'god'.

What could be more exhilarating for a wizard than such a conclusion, especially when this conclusion comes from a wizard who toys with divine authority, making it impossible not to trust!

Cam finally understood.

He looked at Ian, with a glow of awakening in his eyes instead of awe.

Perhaps.

The history of wizards.

is about to open a new chapter from here.