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Chapter 342 340-Fernard vs Ethan

Ethan looked down at the somewhat blurred gold-embossed skull emblem: "Well, at least I still have half a use left. It can be considered a major trump card."

Pride filled Bogart's eyes as he spoke loudly, "The blessing of the Supreme Deity is not as simple as a mere trump card. Just with this half use, you could walk horizontally in the Deityforsaken Land."

"That's true." Ethan's gaze softened towards the skull emblem, and he flattered with a smile.

Bogart, observing Ethan, felt increasingly delighted. Compared to Fernard, Ethan was a more suitable candidate to be the new leader of the Wraith Cult. 

Now, thinking of Fernard only irked him. 

He had given Fernard the wealth left by the Wraith Cult to improve his physique and enhance his soul, but Fernard had failed to show any substantial progress despite the lengthy study period. 

Fortunately, Ethan's emergence seemed like a saving grace for the Wraith Cult.

"Is there a way to replenish the trial of the god mark? Logically, since it's given by you, there should be plenty, right?" Ethan's eyes sparkled with interest as he stared at Bogart.

Bogart coughed repeatedly, almost choking, "As I said, the trial of the god mark is a blessing from the Supreme Deity, and each issuance is extremely precious. Each of us ten Entourages only has one; how could we simply give it to you?"

"Then it's settled, I'm content with having such a life-saving blessing," Ethan conceded.

A flicker of unusual light passed through Bogart's eyes as he tentatively suggested, "There might be a way for you to replenish the Supreme Deity's blessing."

"Oh?" Ethan's interest was piqued. "Do tell."

"That would be through plundering. The mark in that man's possession in the mirror could be seized." Bogart's eyes filled with coldness as he pointed to the "light mirror", "After all, you need to obtain the 'Grip of the Underworld,' and a confrontation with him is inevitable."

Ethan raised his eyebrows slightly, "Is that possible?"

"Of course," Bogart replied with a sinister smile. "For some reason, that man possesses the 'Grip of the Underworld' from my lord and deceived me terribly. I gave him the trial of the god mark, hoping he would achieve something within the Wraith Cult. But in the temple, after more than ten years of study, he has made no progress…"

Bogart was interrupted by Ethan, who widened his eyes in disbelief, "Ten years? What are you talking about? He's been here that long?"

Bogart looked at Ethan oddly, stroking his beard, "He came a bit before you. It's just that time flows differently in this space, which is why I said that."

Ethan nodded slightly, his gaze turning to the parchment scrolls on the bookshelves, "No wonder these parchments and scriptures look as good as new. It's because of the different flow of time. Does that mean I could train here until reaching deity realm before leaving?"

The more he thought about it, the more excited he became, his face lighting up with ecstatic joy, "If I train to the deity realm before leaving, who in the world and among people could stand against me?"

Bogart's facial muscles twitched slightly, shaking his head in a mix of laughter and despair, "You're thinking too optimistically."

"Is it not possible?"

"Of course not. I've already told you that the time laws here are different from the outside world, which means this time flow is erroneous. How could you possibly achieve any real progress in such a flawed space?"

"There's such a thing?"

"Naturally. Moreover, due to the 'error' in the time laws here, this space is severely lacking in other Laws, making it impossible for you to receive the inscriptions of other Laws. To become a deity here would be a million times harder than in the outside world."

Ethan's mouth opened slightly, but no words came out. He thought to himself, there really is no such thing as a free lunch in the world!

Noticing the disappointment on Ethan's face, Bogart hurriedly added, "Of course, this place may not be suitable for enhancing one's realm, but it can still be used for practicing spells and studying theory. It can save you some unnecessary time."

A smile appeared on Ethan's face, "That seems to be the right use for this place. I was a bit too greedy." 

He stretched lazily, his eyes slightly narrowing as he looked at the troubled Fernard in the light mirror, "In that case, I'll go get the 'Grip of the Underworld' first."

"That's how it should be."

"How do I get in there?"

Bogart's hand moved rapidly in the air, and the light mirror suddenly enlarged, "Just walk into it."

Without any hesitation, Ethan stepped into the light mirror. 

He never considered that Bogart might harm him. 

After all, Bogart's power far exceeded his own; if he wanted Ethan dead, there would be no need for such convoluted schemes.

...

"Damn it, did I come to this world just to bury myself in books?" Fernard grew increasingly frustrated as he perused the magic runes on the parchment scrolls. 

Finally, he threw the parchment into the darkness, stood up, and cursed, "Where the hell did Bogart go this time? He better not be off messing with women behind my back."

The thought infuriated Fernard even more. Back in Sourcewater City, his life was luxurious to the extreme. 

It was a life of luxury where even brushing his teeth was assisted by exotic maidens. 

Nothing like now, tedious and monotonous, akin to a torturous ascetic existence.

"If that's the case, hand over the 'Grip of the Underworld' to me. I'll help you end this boring life."

An echoing voice came from the darkness, startling Fernard. 

He quickly turned and saw the imposing figure of Ethan.

"Who are you?" Fernard blurted out, pointing at Ethan's nose.

"I am like you, a trialist of the god," Ethan replied straightforwardly, not intending to hide anything.

Fernard became even more puzzled; Bogart had never mentioned anything like this to him. 

He was only instructed to incessantly read books, to learn the doctrines and compendiums of magic of the Wraith Cult, and he would be able to fully master it. 

This talk of a trialist of the god was completely unknown to him.

"What nonsense about a trialist of the god," Fernard scoffed disdainfully. "Do you know whose territory this is? I am the master here. You, an outsider, better scram right now."

Ethan just stared intently at Fernard, not uttering a word.

Fernard, sensing that Ethan was not bluffing, shouted with false bravado, "Bogart, come out! There's an invader in the temple. Aren't you going to do something?"

The only response to Fernard's call was the silent darkness.

Ethan extended his hand, revealing the gold-embossed skull emblem: "Then bring it on. Let's have a real man-to-man duel."

No sooner had he finished speaking than the gold-embossed skull emblem in his hand began to glow, even giving off a sensation of searing heat. 

Fernard also hurriedly looked at his own palm. 

The clear and bright gold-embossed skull emblem was emitting light as if responding.

"You have the same mark as me?" Fernard's eyes widened, staring at Ethan in disbelief.

Ethan, expressionless, spoke in a deep tone: "So, it's inevitable that we fight. This is fate!"

Fernard burst into laughter upon seeing Ethan's palm: "Fate? You think you're fated to fight me? You're really going to make me die laughing."

"Look at the state of the gold-embossed skull emblem in your palm, it's almost disappearing. How could you possibly match up to me?" His eyes flickered slightly, assessing Ethan's strength.

"He must be weak if his gold-embossed skull emblem is so blurred. This means I have a better chance of winning."

Ethan didn't expect his palm's gold-embossed skull emblem to lead Fernard to such a misunderstanding. 

He didn't bother to explain but instead wore a faint smile: "Then give it a try."

After speaking, Ethan raised his hand high, the skull emblem in his palm radiating a dark golden light. 

Fernard's arm raised automatically without him moving a muscle. 

The gold-embossed skull emblem in his palm also released a dark golden glow, mingling with the light emanating from Ethan's palm. 

Gradually, the golden light enveloped both of them.

In the dark space, faint dark golden barriers appeared. 

Astonishingly, the interaction between the gold-embossed skull emblems transformed into an arena. 

Even in the surrounding darkness, dark golden figures seemed to move, raising their arms as if spectating a match.

In this eerie space, Ethan and Fernard both surveyed their surroundings. 

"This must be a space specifically conjured by the Lord of Wraith for the trialists of the god to battle," Ethan speculated internally. "The Lord of Wraith really goes all out. There's so much hidden within a single gold-embossed skull emblem, much to be explored."

Fernard, confident in his superior strength, shrugged his shoulders like a boxer, throwing a couple of punches: "You fool, I'll show you the kind of monster you've provoked. Prepare to meet your demise."

With those harsh words, Fernard twisted his body forward, materializing a long sword in his hand: "The divine artifact—Dragonblade, it's time for it to taste blood."