He is the leader of the Tantric sect in Chagdu.

Chapter 112 [The Second Foundation]

The divine enhancements given to Ronan are comprehensive. If the Unquenchable Flame is the essence, then "Fire Resistance," "Strength Enhancement," and even the enhancement of the Laws of Fire are all additional attributes.

An old man from the Steel Road once mentioned that given enough time, he could crush the leaders of the outlying factions one by one, like crushing a few large ants—and for Ronan now, the difficulty wouldn't be much different.

The distinction between the mundane and the extraordinary is so clear.

The explosives did not cause him enough harm, but anger became the fuel in his eyes, making the flames burn even more fiercely. It was a massacre.

Compared to the Mafia, the rats here didn't even put up any significant resistance. Fear had already broken their minds, and Ronan, now free of all restrictions, no longer needed to think about anything else—he had just defeated a cyber madman head-on with hand-to-hand combat, and now, using secret techniques, the killing was even more "efficient."

Endless violence surged from Ronan's eyes, a flame-like halo encircled his pupils, and the image of destruction transformed into lava dripping from the sky.

"As humble as an ant —"

Wielding his greatsword, Ronan seemed to dance in the darkness.

"How utterly powerless!"

When met with angry gazes, the air along the way is scorched and wrinkled—nearby enemies are cleaved in two by a sword shadow, either horizontally or vertically; those who are accidentally hit by two swords are cut into four pieces—the latter should be in more pain.

Flesh and steel, when faced with eternal flame, are no different from butter noodles facing a hot knife: they shatter, wail, tear, break apart, and then twist and die in the judgment of fire.

Each slash of the greatsword was like wielding an electric mosquito swatter in the low grass on a summer night—the stench of blood and burning flesh reigned supreme. The light, floating remains were burned into viscous grease, clinging in chunks to the eternally burning, grotesque blade. The exposed, spine-like blade bone, in the murky blood, seemed to come back to life, vibrant as a blooming rose, then a violent crushing.

In the distance, many rats tried to escape into the depths of the wasteland amidst the chaos—Ronan merely cast a scorching glance at them, and those lowly souls, along with their hunched figures, turned into charred remains and ashes amidst their agonizing howls, wailing and huddled together in the flames—

As the flames spread into the depths of darkness, the shrieks of death gradually merged into one, and flesh and blood transformed into decaying skeletons.

Soon, there was no longer any standing figure in sight, and the pitch blackness and flying ash almost buried the earth.

The ashes fell from the sky, and the smoke and dust from the explosion finally settled back into place.

Ronan stopped the killing, casually slicing away sniper bullets fired from afar, then tracing back to that malice, casting flames into the sniper's eyes—as a towering flame erupted in the darkness at the end of the alley, everything fell silent.

"Hoo—" Ronan took a deep breath to calm the raging fire in his chest, his eyes shining brightly.

"That was satisfying."

Without a doubt, fire is extremely adept at killing. Emphasizing the principle of destruction, flames are invincible on the battlefield against multiple enemies, easily bringing equal death to the enemy.

Anger and violence are the postures of fire, and a killing and burning under the pretext of cleanup is the best fuel for fire.

There was no need to suppress his rage; he only needed to unleash it without mercy. This was an experience Ronan had never had in his twenty-plus years of life—his heart, which had been dormant for so long, was stirred by the brutality of justice. The red liquid in his chest flowed like fire, slowly transforming into a burning state.

An in-depth study.

But the apprentice of fire also knew that restraint was a way to keep the flame burning: when the anger subsided, Ronan looked around and slowly walked back to the center of the explosion.

"nailed it."

As he spoke, the cocoon-like gray mist in front of him suddenly dispersed, revealing a well-behaved-looking girl named Yinqiu curled up inside.

"hehe----"

Ronan gave the gray mist circling around Xiao Qi the middle finger, cursing under his breath—faced with danger, this guy decisively wrapped Qi up and then left himself to take the blast.

—Damn it, that bastard fox Jingxue, he even applies double standards to sex.

However, after adjusting his mindset slightly, Ronan squatted down facing Qi, patted the little guy's fluffy head, and asked, "Are you alright? —"

—Looks like everything's fine.

Although it was a bit of a double standard, Ronan breathed a sigh of relief, still finding the gray matter reliable. He checked his surroundings again and frowned.

"What about the remaining leaders?"

Ronan began to wonder if he had cut them down too quickly. "Are they all dead?!"

He was so caught up in the excitement of the killing that he definitely wouldn't be able to recall what he had chopped down.

After all, once Yongran snatches it, the feel is pretty much the same.

"Okay, even if you told me exactly who I was to kill, I wouldn't recognize them—"

Just like that "mentor," in Ronan's mind it was just a code name; he didn't know what specific characteristics it had.

It's all because these guys have been running away the whole time and have never really fought against Haiba. Even if he really has the art of invisibility, he's still a novice cultist who hasn't even entered the field. He might have been killed as cannon fodder.

Within the area burned by the flames, the only criteria for distinguishing between people are "completely burned" and "not so completely burned".

—So humble.

"pity----"

He looked at Xiao Qi apologetically, "It seems there's no way I can let you take revenge yourself."

"actually----"

Looking at the scorched wasteland, Qi murmured, "Actually, I don't even know who I should take revenge on—"

—Did I come here because of resentment? Or something else? I'm not sure—but perhaps there's no obsession left here, like a nightmare that's almost forgotten.

She murmured, "Those people who tormented me—even if they stood right in front of me, could I really recognize them? Probably not, even though they might all be dead."

—They are all dead.

Ronan knew that Xiao Qi had forgotten his past pain due to his mind's self-protection mechanism—this was a masterpiece deliberately guided by the fox, who wanted the children of darkness to truly embrace a new life.

Those who committed sins, even if their souls passed the purification selection, could not pass Ai's "discretionary" screening, and are probably detained now. As for what kind of punishment they have suffered, it is probably unimaginable.

It is said that the fox is developing some kind of "canned soul X wet parts sequence computer group" as an alternative to the think tank, and it seems to be in short supply of live subjects recently.

Ronan shuddered slightly, glanced at the girl from Incho, hesitated for a moment, and then said softly, "The operation is done, let's go back—"

Suddenly, the gray mist began to swirl in front of him, then pieced together a line of small words in mid-air: "Wait a minute, wait a minute, there's a gift coming—Ai Yi's note."

"Since you've already chased me all this way, I can't let you come for nothing—look at this, I packed it up myself a while ago, just waiting for this moment."

The gray matter continued to recombine, twisting and contorting, and with a human-like vomiting motion, a figure was thrown out of the gray mist.

"The person in charge of Valen Night Cave is now in your hands."

Ronan, looking dazed, tilted his head as he stared at the gloomy man in front of him who had been thrown from the sky by the gray fog and was now groaning incessantly, seemingly still unaware of what was happening.

He cautiously pointed at the guy: "This—"

Qi looked puzzled. She seemed not to have seen the message transmitted by the gray matter and simply shook her head: "I don't recognize it."

Upon hearing those three words, Ronan was first taken aback, then felt genuine relief and joy: "That's wonderful!"

—This is fantastic in every sense of the word.

Resolute forgetting is the answer for the unfortunate to face the future, and the rebirth for the brave.

"In that case, let us use the final burning to welcome true rebirth."

The next moment, Ronan grinned maliciously and shoved the cigarette he had lit between his fingers deep into his eye socket, making a hissing sound.

Accompanied by a short, sharp scream, followed by a long and unprecedented wail of pain, the principle of fire flowed within him, from the pupils to the skull cavity, spreading from the inside to the skin, evaporating the moisture in every cell, and completely igniting him into a human torch.

"Aaaaaahh ...

After ten minutes, the hysterical screams finally showed signs of weakening, and Ronan controlled the tiny flame, scorching every inch of his body.

Until this sinner, transformed into a charred, yet still twisting, humanoid charcoal—when cracks filled his entire body, he silently cracked and collapsed, turning into ashes.

Ronan watched this scene quietly:

—Not even a trace deserves to be remembered; perhaps this is the way to forget and yearn for a new life.

Qi lost all interest midway through the torture, his indifferent demeanor as if he had completed a pilgrimage in a dream, with nothing left to remember.

The past ended here.

—My life has long had a direction to pursue.

Light in the darkness is the best medicine for a lost soul.

"Lord of Darkness —"

Looking at the flames before her, Qi gently clasped her furry hands together, a cute little cat-like smile curving her lips, her serene posture resembling a prayer.

"Praise to the radiance."

On the other side, Gray Garden.

Ai didn't make any further preparations; he really just went back to catch up on sleep.

But this sleep didn't seem to be very restful.

When the fox opened its eyes, it found itself in a pure white space, with only its spirit floating in the liquid.

Looking around, familiar white pages appeared before him. In the catalog of achievements, a new line of text had been added: "Pure white authority has been sown across the dark earth. Your name has become one of the indelible marks on the inner walls of the Holy Nest. The etiquette you established has been planted at the edge of the nest, destined to paint colors to a deeper realm."

"All who defy will eventually dissolve into pure white, and be given to the ruthless king."

"What does this mean—"

Ai, her mind still a bit foggy, thought, "I guess Ronan's got everything sorted out—and he's given me an achievement?"

—It was all done with a lot of ceremony.

He shook his head and suddenly felt a strange tremor—when he frowned and looked around, he indeed found a glimmer of light: "Gray?" he murmured, silently looking at a vague shadow floating in front of him.

It has the exact same face as me—and it's gray again?

—But something seems off—

Ai Yi tilted his head. He felt that something was off about the fox in front of him, especially its eyes, which lacked the indifference that came with gray, and instead had an inorganic, lifeless coldness.

"You are—" He was somewhat confused, yet a sense of enlightenment seemed to arise within him—"You came to find me," he whispered.

"Why did you come to me? — Maybe my experience bar has increased again? Hmm — Is it about the unification of the suburbs, or some kind of spiritual growth?"

"Or, I might as well just ask you directly—"

He stated bluntly: "What am I confused about right now?"

A moment later, an echo came from the pure white before us: "When will we be able to decide everything by our own will, without relying on others?"

'

'

Ai Yi seemed to understand, but not quite. He was puzzled, and although it seemed a bit late to voice his concerns now, in this particular situation, he still voiced his doubts: "Do I really have that qualification?"

—The qualification to mark the scale of human reason —

"After all, without the legacy of the Greys, my essence is just an ordinary fox." His ears drooped down. Although the situation was completely different from a month ago, even Ai himself couldn't fully see the changes in some "essence".

Even if other people's souls are perfectly transparent to her, the deepest solute in the fox's heart remains a question—Ai feels she might have become a tiny bit more powerful now, and her personality has become a little more cheerful, and in other aspects—

It's like rediscovering desire, finding a purpose and a temporary goal, finding a foothold in the world—

Ai could feel all these changes—but without a "reference point" on a spiritual level, he didn't know what level he was at now.

To give an example, it's like you got 10 points on a mental exam a month ago, and now you got 70—but the fox itself doesn't know what the full score is. Maybe it's 100, or maybe it's 1000?

To support the grand ambition of "balancing all schools of thought," one would need a score of 1000 or even 10000. Just thinking about that standard made Ai Yi a little unsure of herself.

He is no longer the solitary figure he was a month ago. Every idea and decision he makes may be tested and proven by tens of thousands of lives. Not long ago, Ai Yi used the mask of "Grey" to complete the formulation of the standard of "soul purity". The price he paid in this process, the weight and pressure of tens of thousands of deaths, were shared by Grey.

The fox itself is still in the process of "adaptation and numbness." It still needs to grow in order to bear such a grand "expectation" and manage this responsibility on its own.

His time has been too short; even if he is destined to reach great possibilities, there must be a process of growth.

—Trying to do it is one thing, but whether it will succeed is another —If at some point, Ai Yi has to be crowned the Pure White Tyrant —can his true mind really support a "dictator of thought"?

Grey hopes that Ai will surpass him, rather than simply rely on him.

Thinking about this, Ai added somewhat bewilderedly, "How 'right' must I be to gain the trust of tens of thousands, even all of humanity, in my dictatorship?"

A second later, he received this reply.

"They don't need to be willing," the fox in the glow said leisurely. "They just need to comply."

Ai tilted her head slightly: "?"

"The only one who needs to be prepared is you. You must know that you are special. Only you can understand and dissect all paths, and only you can accommodate all ideas and possibilities."

"You must be arrogant enough, and right enough, to be able to despise everyone with dignity and equality, to embrace everyone's greedy eyes and bare fangs in the cradle of arrogance, and to forgive the mistakes of all beings at the pinnacle of compassion, and to freely give evaluation, encouragement, and reward."

He said, "Even if your head is covered with withered branches, all living beings will only regard it as a crown."

"————" Ai Yi remained silent, yet rose in a light, lost state—desire became clearer, and her thoughts reached an incomprehensible height in the midst of chaotic turmoil. It was a boundless perspective, like the ocean, the land, the sky, and the radiance.

The gray mask allows him to confront responsibility with ruthlessness; he need not grieve over the passing of life, nor feel guilty for treating death as merely a number.

Because the glow is cold enough.

But when Ai uses his own personality as a benchmark, he will eventually clash with pure inhumanity, and even with gray—in the end, the only one who can bear the consequences is himself.

"Are you telling me to prepare myself?"

Ai muttered to herself.

"My path is different from Gray's. Unless I abandon my essence, I am destined to be unable to achieve pure indifference. Therefore, I have always regarded Gray as my old man's car, a perspective within my comfort zone. Whether it is pressure or weight, I can irresponsibly let Gray share the burden for me — I see."

Mediocre people can stay in the circle forever, but I need to get out, and I always have to get out.

The hazy voice gradually blended with Ai's heartbeat, becoming indistinct and ethereal: "You must be as magnificent as the world, and as tolerant of all describable thoughts as the world. Only you can do it—you embark on the path of salvation, not because they are pitiful, but because you love them. You must learn to love everything that the world should have, love their desires and pursuits, love their sharp teeth and claws, love their wisdom, love their civilization, love their short and humble yet brilliant and beautiful lives and spirits, love their weakness, love their strength, love their pursuit of eternity, love their arrogance that defines everything."

"Let all living beings know how the world should be."

Whether the voice came from the ash or not is no longer important at this moment. The things dissolved in the glow are now conveying the most beautiful and longed-for blessings to Ai: "Let the people who are sleeping in this garbage age try to understand how people should have beautiful expectations of each other, how great the intangible substance called hope is, and how sublime the spiritual scale called kindness and love is."

"Heal the diseases in their souls."

"Only you can do it."

Huiguang pondered: "Let all things coexist—"

—May everything prosper.

A moment later, the voice disappeared from my ears like a dream, like the morning mist dissipating, or like waking up from a deep dream.

Ai slowly opened his eyes, and what greeted him was a familiar light screen, projected at a perfect angle, with just the right brightness—neither too bright nor too dim: "Your desires: control, transformation, have been nourished."

"Please continue on your way."

Faintly, a seedling growing in the barren soil slowly sprouted a new bud from the lower right side of the main stem. The lush green gradually emerged from nothingness and solidified into a tender branch.

Beneath this vibrant green, a rich crimson slowly rises—a crimson irrigated by the essence of countless lives, conveying a resolute "strictness" that can only be perceived through spirituality.

"Inhumanity is a harsh law, but also a way to remove decay and bring about rebirth."

Ai narrowed his eyes, and in his blood-red vision, the mold called "Base Plate" seeped into his soul, carving a deep mark into the vessel, and erecting a scale at the higher point of the [Tree]:

1. The soon-to-be-formed second foundation

【severe】