Mystery: The Stranger

The velvet bed curtains hung down, blocking out the natural light from the window. Only the warm glow of the flickering candlelight remained in the room, casting a faint blush on Snow's pale cheeks.

He leaned against the headboard, his fingertips unconsciously stroking the zombie ring, barely having the strength to even lift his eyes. Saratas, on the other hand, squatted on the edge of the bed, his fingertips twirling his loose hair, urging him on with a hint of impatience.

"What are your plans next?"

Seeing that Snow didn't respond for a while and just stared blankly, she leaned closer and said in a more seductive tone, "I have to remind you that what's most important for you right now is to collect faith. Burning more faith as firewood will reduce the consumption of your spirit and essence, which is better than you being so listless and too lazy to even move."

Saratas lightly touched Snow's brow with her fingertips, a hint of hidden malice flashing in her eyes—if it weren't for the angel standing behind Count Cullen, she would have encouraged Snow to find an opportunity to decisively eliminate that troublesome count, and then openly spread his faith throughout the entire coastal province. After all, what demigod doesn't do the same? Using faith as an anchor, seeking a balance between divinity and humanity.

Although Snow is only a Sequence 5 at the moment, Saratas clearly no longer takes ordinary Sequence 4 seriously. With a pre-set venue, there are ways to solve the problem.

Snow finally blinked slowly, his tone languid as if he were about to fall asleep again, his voice almost flat: "For now, I plan to enjoy life a bit."

He turned slightly to the side, looking at the dark patterns embroidered on the bed curtains, and added softly, "It was alright before. Even when I was busy with promotions and seizing territory, I always had some energy. But now this divine fire burns incessantly, leaving me exhausted. All I want to do is cultivate my mind and body. Otherwise, I can't muster any enthusiasm for anything—it's just fortunate that demons are emotionally active and have strong desires. If it were someone else, they would probably have fallen into utter laziness long ago."

At this point, he chuckled self-deprecatingly, a rare look of bewilderment in his eyes: "You know what? In just this short time, I've been contemplating the meaning of life."

As soon as he finished speaking, he lay back down on the bed, limbs outstretched, like a limp lump of boneless mud, without the slightest thought of preaching or causing any trouble. It wasn't that he didn't want to, but that he truly lacked the will—the weariness brought on by the burning divine fire was like an invisible net, firmly binding him to the bed.

He's currently experiencing symptoms similar to insufficient blood and qi, feeling weak all over, or like a low-end power supply that's not good enough for a high-end graphics card.

I don't want to move... and there's no need to make a fuss.

His own rate of advancement was already rapid enough. Before the establishment of the Tudor-Trensost United Empire, Snow did not intend to continue to advance his rank. The demigods who joined the United Empire at the beginning of its establishment were certainly not as legitimate as the demigods who were promoted after the establishment of the empire with the support of the empire.

Instead of rushing to become a demigod, he should first get used to the ignited divine fire. He didn't enjoy much of the power transformed by the divine fire before; it seems that most of it was consumed by Xalatas. Once his body gradually adapts to the divine fire, he can basically cross the threshold of becoming a demigod directly, and even the ascension ceremony will be unnecessary.

If you adapt to divinity in advance, gather faith in advance, and stabilize your spirit, what will you have to worry about losing control when you advance?

"But I hate the mundane."

Seemingly knowing that Snow was "particularly good-tempered" these days, Saratas lost his patience and stepped directly on Snow's head. Snow, as expected, chose to ignore it, not even lifting an eyelid. Anyway, she couldn't hurt him, and he couldn't be bothered with such childish behavior.

"So you can try your best." Snow said with his eyes closed, his tone as casual as if he were discussing evening snacks. "That otherworldly queen of the vampires may be dead, or she may not be. But whether she is dead or alive, she definitely possesses the extraordinary characteristics of the Gate Path."

He paused, slowing his speech, and laid out his plan: "If He dies, you can use His name to secretly steal the faith of the vampires; if He doesn't die, it doesn't matter—He's been silent for so long, he probably won't use the title 'Queen of Another World' anymore. Besides, the vampires don't have a unified large settlement now; they're scattered in various corners of the Northern Continent, occupying some strategic locations, either as lords or dependent on local nobles. You can take advantage of their geographically dispersed and decentralized rule to secretly infiltrate a portion of the vampires' power."

Snow himself was too lazy to do anything, but he directly took command of Xaratas.

Anyway, she'll still sneak food even if we don't ask her to, so why not ask her to?

As for infiltrating the vampires and acquiring their faith, that's far better than struggling to cultivate faith in this small, run-down place. Snow has no desire to build statues, cultivate faith, or become a scapegoat under Count Cullen's nose. Currently, the image he presents to Count Cullen is that of a dependent, not a challenger.

The faith is directed towards the Queen of Another World, and has nothing to do with demons.

Snow didn't use faith as an anchor to balance divinity and humanity; he was merely the kindling. The divine fire was ignited by the power of otherworldly symbols, and the faith directed towards the otherworldly queen would likely burn even more harmoniously.

"Good suggestion." Saratas's eyes lit up, and he immediately withdrew his foot from Snow's head, his tone full of delight. "I do need some new servants."

Although Snow was competent in many ways, he was ultimately too opinionated and disobedient. She needed more loyal and obedient servants to serve her, and she despised those vulgar people. The vampires, a race with a glorious past and rumored to have been created by the ancient goddess Lilith, were just to her liking—elegant, powerful, and with a touch of innate arrogance. With a little taming, they would be the best subordinates.

"Well then, good luck." Snow yawned widely, rolled over, curled up on the bed like a lazy caterpillar, and said in a sleepy tone, "Don't bother me."

His current state is neither clear-headed nor unconscious. He doesn't want to sleep, doesn't want to wake up, doesn't want to move, and doesn't want to struggle. He just wants to lie quietly like this, letting the divine fire burn slowly and letting his spirit slowly recover.

"Heh, it seems you need some external motivation." Saratas looked at him and shook her head helplessly, but she had already planned her infiltration of the vampires. She knew that Snow was no longer a reliable source of support; the task of gathering faith and infiltrating influence could only be accomplished by herself.

Fortunately, it's not difficult at all; the one thing they have plenty of right now is time.

The method is not complicated; the prayers Snow compiled earlier were not written in vain.

In the past, even if someone vaguely recited a name that was highly compatible with Xalatas, Xalatas would not have accepted it, since he did not have local residency.

Now, thanks to the divine fire ignited by Snow, which allows him to indirectly attach himself to otherworldly symbols, Xalatas has the qualifications to become an evil god. Just like the Fool of later generations, he cannot receive prayers on his own, but he can through the Source Castle. The logic is basically the same.