The Wizard: From Zero-Ring Wizard to Almighty Lord.

Surrounding the Principality of Buma, armies surged in from all directions, their banners obscuring the sun, their killing intent like a tidal wave, as if they intended to utterly crush and grind this rebellious principality into dust.

However, with the support of Lynn's large army, even though the newcomers were the most elite troops from various duchies and kingdoms, and even the temple had dispatched a large number of powerful warriors:
Priests, priests, and bishops emerged in large numbers; within the Knights Temple, even Earth-level knights, Heaven-level knights, and legendary knights personally appeared on the battlefield.

Even so, the small Duchy of Bulma remained steadfast, like a nail firmly driven into the plain, unshaken by any storms.

Such a large army not only failed to easily conquer this seemingly ordinary duchy, but also suffered astonishingly high losses.

The war lasted for seven days and seven nights, and the army besieging the Principality of Bulma had suffered more than 50% casualties!

One out of every two people was killed or seriously wounded and could no longer fight.

This devastating loss had a tremendous impact on the outsiders who participated in the war.

Seven days ago, they gathered here, vowing to crush the Principality of Buma into dust.

But now, the bodies of comrades are piled up like mountains, the groans and screams of the seriously wounded are incessant, and the stench of blood mixed with gunpowder smoke lingers for a long time.

The soldiers who were still standing looked at the border of the Principality of Buma, which was so close yet they could never cross it, their eyes filled with despair and confusion.

Some even began to waver:
Could it be... that the Principality of Bulma truly worships a real deity? Otherwise, how could it have stood the test of time?
Once this idea took hold, it spread like wildfire throughout the army.

Even more critically, the Principality of Buma continues to spread the names and essence of the gods.

They proclaimed:

As long as you have faith in the sublime and great Lord of Life, you will receive His divine blessings, your wounds will be healed, serious injuries will be cured, and you will be spared from disaster.

The battlefield is where the most serious injuries and wounds are found.

Every moment, massive numbers of wounded soldiers were carried off the front lines, covered in blood and on the verge of death.

Severed limbs lay scattered, the smell of burnt flesh mingled with the rusty stench of blood, and the corpses piled up outside the tents had formed small mounds.

Screams, groans, and dying gasps never stopped from morning till night, like the background noise of hell.

It is easy to imagine how tempting this message that "salvation can be achieved through faith" was to those soldiers struggling for their lives!

Behind the camp, in the wounded soldiers' tents, a hushed discussion had already broken out.

The dim oil lamp flickered, illuminating pale, desperate faces.

Someone huddled on a blood-stained straw mat, their lips trembling, secretly calling out the name of "Lord of Life," their voice as faint as a mosquito's buzz, as if testing whether the deity would truly respond.

Some people simply closed their eyes, clasped their hands together, blood seeping between their fingers, and silently recited the prayers that came from the Principality of Buma, risking their last breath.

In the military camp, the priests patrolled daily, moving like ghosts between the tents.

They were dressed in greyish-white holy robes, held holy staffs, and had cold, sharp eyes.

They searched every tent, listening intently to the wounded soldiers' whispers and sniffing the air for any unusual scents.

Upon discovering even the slightest hint of suspicion, he immediately issued a stern rebuke:
"The worship of false gods is forbidden! Violators will be executed immediately!"

This severe punishment did indeed intimidate many people at first.

The wounded, already terrified, immediately fell silent, preferring to grit their teeth and endure the pain rather than utter that name again.

One after another, the seriously wounded died in silence, their bodies dragged out of the tents and thrown into mass graves.

But the war lasted for seven days and seven nights, and the number of wounded kept piling up.

Severed limbs, burns, internal bleeding, infection... the camp reeked of blood, and screams of agony never stopped from morning till night.

Either way, it's all the same – death.

Those wounded soldiers, on the verge of death, finally went all out.

In the dead of night, a young soldier with half a leg missing lay on a straw mat in the corner, his face ashen and his breathing weak.

He stared at the hole in the tent roof, where moonlight streamed in, illuminating his bloody wounds.

The severed leg was wrapped in a dirty cloth, soaked with blood, and a faint stench of decay wafted out.

The pastor had just finished his rounds and left; his footsteps faded into the distance. He trembled as he raised one of his still-functioning hands, clasped it to his chest, and spoke in a voice so low it was almost inaudible, yet carrying a final, defiant strength:

"Lord of Life... if you truly exist... please... please save me... I will believe in you..."

As soon as he finished speaking, a wisp of extremely faint blue light seeped out from the void and wrapped around his wound like morning mist.

The flesh at the broken leg slowly writhed, the bone made a faint "clicking" sound, the wound stopped widening, and the pain lessened somewhat.

His breathing calmed down, and his complexion regained some color, but he was not fully recovered. He was only kept alive, not about to die immediately.

He opened his eyes, a flash of wild joy crossing them, then quickly closed them again, afraid someone would see.

Similar things were happening quietly throughout the camp.

Some whisper in the middle of the night, some curl up in their blankets and mutter to themselves, and some even use their last strength to draw a simple symbol of life vines on the muddy ground before they die.

No matter how strictly the priests patrolled, they couldn't possibly keep an eye on every wounded soldier.

The cyan light threads were too faint and too hidden, only appearing quietly at the most critical moments to save lives, but not to cure them.

It just barely keeps them alive, allowing them to linger on without dying immediately.

The seriously wounded lay on blood-stained straw mats, their cloudy eyes wide open, continuing to pray in hushed tones.

The sound was so faint, like the wind rustling through withered grass, hidden deep in the throat, that even the companions beside him might not be able to hear it clearly.

The clergy's threat still echoed in my ears: those who believe in false gods will be executed immediately.

For these wounded, death was imminent. If they believed, there might be a glimmer of hope; if they didn't, death was the only outcome.

Moreover, a thought gradually arose in their minds: the reason why divine power did not flow freely and directly heal them must be because their faith was not pure enough.

As a result, their private prayers to the Lord of Life became more frequent and more devout.

During the day, he gritted his teeth and endured the pain; at night, he curled up in bed and silently recited his vows, wishing he could use every bit of strength to prove his "sincerity."

The priests patrolled day and night, their holy staffs striking the ground, their gazes sharp as knives.

But they were ultimately unable to open the head of one of the wounded soldiers to see if anyone was secretly praying inside...

At this moment, the army besieging the Principality of Bulma is caught in a dilemma, unable to advance or retreat.

Go a step further?
They were completely unable to break through the defensive line set up by Lynn's army, and even the idea of ​​stepping into the border of the Principality of Bulma was just a pipe dream.

Meanwhile, the number of wounded soldiers in the rear camps was increasing day and night, every hour and every minute.

These wounded soldiers were subtly and gradually transformed into dubious believers in false gods.

Some of the seriously wounded who were certain to die miraculously survived.

Whether it was due to good physical condition, good luck, or because he secretly worshipped that false god, no one can say for sure.

But the priests, bishops and other priests were completely unable to distinguish the truth from the falsehoods, and dared not presume to admit guilt, so they all killed them, as that would inevitably lead to a complete collapse of morale.

The front lines are incredibly difficult, but undercurrents are stirring in the rear, with suspicions that there is an internal traitor lurking within.

How could this war possibly continue?
Some of the bishops and legendary knights in charge of the battlefield were extremely worried, feeling that the situation was slipping out of their control.

They all eagerly awaited the arrival of the most senior and highest-ranking bishops, saintesses, and paladins in the temple…

When will these great figures who can decide the fate of the world descend upon this place?

....................................

However, what these bishops and legendary knights did not know was that above the battlefield, above the thick clouds, lay an area deliberately hidden by the will of the world.

There was a bluish-green glow in this place.

Upon closer inspection, one discovers that this is actually a cyan platform, resembling the gnarled roots of an old tree, or the warm and translucent jade. The edges are subtly dotted with life-like vine-like patterns that seem to be slowly wriggling, as if the entire platform itself is breathing.

In the center of the platform stands a throne of life, exactly the same as the one in the temple of the Principality of Bulma:
The throne is composed of life-giving imagery such as the gnarled branches of ancient trees, evergreen grass and trees, and flowers that bloom when spring returns to the earth. It is full of vitality, as if it could awaken from the stone at any moment and exhale fresh oxygen and fragrance.

The only difference is that there is a prismatic carving on the back of the throne, with sharp but not abrupt lines, like a sword hidden in its sheath, or a sleeping seed, quietly waiting to hatch.

A figure sat upright on the throne, leaning back comfortably with his hands resting naturally on the armrests.

He was clad in a magnificent and precious blue robe, which seemed to be woven from divine blue power, with faint traces of life flowing around the hem and shimmering with a delicate green light. He wore a matching crown, inlaid with vines and leaves symbolizing growth, and exuded an aura of transcendent yet approachable majesty.

This person's face bears a striking resemblance to Lynn's, but if the nobles of the Kingdom of Eluria were here, they would recognize him at a glance as none other than their former king, Jess.

Similarly, it was also a child, "Jace Cole," conceived by Lynn using forbidden witchcraft.

Previously, Lynn had retrieved this successful experimental offspring, allowing the king of the Kingdom of Eluria to be replaced.

Now, he has been placed in a more suitable place.

Or rather, Lynn created Jess from the very beginning just for this moment!
Gods.

Lynn helped Jess become a true god so that he could absorb the power of faith and make the most of the Azure Sky Spirit.

During his previous interdimensional expeditions, Lynn had personally experienced how terrifying the Spirit of the Azure Sky combined with the power of faith could be.

If Lynn hadn't had the help of the Azure Sky Spirit during his formal wizarding stage, his breakthrough speed would never have been so fast!

Items like the Azure Sky Spirit, made from fragments of a former god, are best used in conjunction with the power of faith.

Lynn nurtured the power of faith in the Spirit of the Azure Sky, which not only transformed the power of faith into spiritual essence and enhanced his own spiritual power.

It can also increase the energy reserves of the Azure Sky Spirit, thus allowing the maple tree that has been dormant within the Azure Sky Spirit to awaken sooner...

Of course, out of some apprehension towards the former master of the Azure Sky Spirit, the goddess of life and nature, Chantia, Lynn ultimately did not steal the title of "goddess of life," but instead used "lord of life" instead.

He had heard that in the myriad realms, some top beings, even after their deaths, still exist in the world in some form.

Calling out their real names might attract attention, and could even give these beings a chance to be reborn...

Therefore, to avoid any taboo, Lynn had Jess take the title "Lord of Life," using it as a basis to activate the Spirit of the Azure Sky and absorb the power of the believers' devout faith...

From Jess's perspective, or rather, from the perspective of the "Lord of Life," he sits on the Throne of Life with his eyes tightly closed.

But he could clearly sense that on the battlefield below, streaks of green light, like fireflies, were quietly rising.

Each wisp of green light represents a believer who follows him. And below, there are thousands upon thousands of them.

It is conceivable that tens of thousands of people in the invading army had already quietly become his followers.

Instead of crushing the Principality of Bulma and destroying the false god's temple of the Lord of Life, the army sent many high-quality soldiers to the Lord of Life as believers...

The Lord of Life sat serenely on his throne. Whenever a wounded soldier prayed, a thread of faith would flow into his body.

He then raised his finger and, expressionless, sent out a thin stream of cyan life force, which silently seeped into the believer's body.

All of this was not something Jess could accomplish on his own, but rather relied on the Azure Sky Spirit within him.

As a fragmented divine essence of a former chief god, the Spirit of the Azure Sky still retains its basic functions even after being reforged and refined by wizards: such as absorbing the power of faith and rewarding believers based on that power.

Jess, seated on the throne, closed his eyes, the power of his faith flowing like a gentle stream into the spirit of the blue sky.

Suddenly, the figure of the Lord of Life stirred slightly, as if awakening from its previous programmed silence, clearly having received Lynn's will.

He slowly rose, left the Throne of Life, and stood at the edge of the cyan platform.

His eyes shone with a pure blue light, peering down at the battlefield through the thick clouds.

At the same time, he slowly stretched out his hands, as if embracing the whole world.

His entire body released wave after wave of rich, almost tangible life force, which cascaded down like a tide.

In that instant, the cyan platform and the Lord of Life on the platform seemed to transform into a great cyan sun!
The world's will seemed to cooperate at this moment, and it took the initiative to withdraw its protection.

The thick clouds slowly dissipated, and the previously obscured sky was suddenly exposed to everyone's view.

"Look! A second sun has appeared in the sky! And it's blue!"

"This sunshine...it feels so good, so warm! I feel like my energy is increasing!"

"Vitality... Could it be that the Lord of Life has manifested himself?!"

A series of shocked and terrified voices instantly echoed along the border of the Principality of Bulma.

Millions of soldiers, friend or foe, clearly felt that overwhelming glory of life.

Whether you believe or not, at this moment, the life force from the Lord of Life has been transmitted to everyone without reservation.

Wounded soldiers, ordinary soldiers, knights, priests... without exception, all were bathed in it.

The flesh at the severed limb slowly writhed, the burned skin quickly scabbed over, the excruciating pain of internal injury turned into a warm current, and fatigue and aging were gradually washed away.

The invading army from outside the Principality of Bulma was still shocked and bewildered, with some even instinctively taking a few steps back.

Within the Principality of Buma, tens of millions of devout believers have gone completely mad.

They knelt on the ground, tears streaming down their faces, their hands raised high, praying frantically to the blue sun in the sky. Their voices rose like a tide, echoing throughout the entire capital.

From the perspective of the Lord of Life, below him, countless dense cyan light spots, like an inverted galaxy, surged wildly toward him and were all absorbed into his body.

The blue light grew stronger and stronger, and the platform, like a blue sun, hung high in the sky, illuminating half of the heavens.

"What do we do! That's a false god manifesting!"

Among the army, the bishops and legendary knights of the third rank gathered together, their faces extremely grim.

They huddled together, whispering amongst themselves about whether to rush forward and confront this "false god."

But when that overwhelming and terrifying aura truly pressed down, even these level three experts felt a chill run down their spines.

That vitality was so pure and so powerful, far exceeding their imagination.

Go up there willingly? Isn't that just suicide...?

They looked at each other, their throats bobbing, but neither dared to speak first.

However, at that moment, one terrifying aura after another suddenly erupted from the distance!
The distant sky seemed to be torn apart by an invisible giant hand, the clouds shattered, and all sorts of strange phenomena appeared one after another.

Thunder hung upside down, flames flowed backward, holy light cascaded like a waterfall, and ice solidified into giant pillars... Everyone's attention was instantly drawn to it.

"That's... the aura of the Holy Maiden... and that old bishop... and the aura of the Holy Knight..."

"So the important figures of the temple had arrived long ago... they were just waiting... Now that the false god has appeared, they too will show themselves and slaughter the god!"

In an instant, the bishops and legendary knights who had been frowning all turned over with joy, their hearts filled with fervent anticipation.

Rumble!
A long spear of ice suddenly appeared, seemingly piercing through heaven and earth, the sound of ice cracking resounding through the sky!
Immediately following behind, a flaming spear roared, the two divine spears intertwining and working together, their power even greater!
One of the bishops was overjoyed and recognized him:

"These are the fifth and sixth paladins in the sequence!"

Meanwhile, further away, a holy radiance illuminated the heavens and earth, seemingly trying to dispel the azure glow that filled the sky.

Three figures could be vaguely seen standing in the void.

Leading the group was an incredibly beautiful woman, followed by two elderly men with white hair.

All three were extremely devout, reciting ancient prayers.

"Your Holiness! Your Eminence, the Old Bishop!"

"Today, we are about to witness the slaughter of false gods!"

Under the watchful eyes of the bishops and legendary knights, figures and auras suddenly descended from afar.

The deafening roar continued as it hurtled directly toward the Lord of Life on the cyan platform!

In an instant, it seemed as if the world had changed color, and terrifying auras locked onto the azure sun.

At that moment, regardless of whether they were friend or foe, everyone held their breath.

The believers clenched their fists, silently praying for their gods; the pastors and the enemy soldiers, on the other hand, were filled with anticipation, eager to see the false god fall and the army return in triumph.

However, outside this scene, outside the Dimension of the Spirit Eye, in the Wizarding World, at the top of the Wizard Tower.

Within the Star Gate, such scenes were clearly displayed, a sight that shocked and distressed tens of millions of living beings.

At that moment, a faint voice rang out:
"Now, it's time to close the net..." (End of Chapter)