I fabricated myths to guide the revival of spiritual energy.

Rome, Vatican City.

When the six-winged battle angel, composed of pure light particles and devoid of any soul, vanished into the sky as a shower of golden light, the hundreds of thousands of believers in St. Peter's Square remained kneeling like statues.

After several days of gloom and pollution from void radiation, the European sky was finally forcibly torn apart by this massive high-dimensional energy. The long-awaited sunlight, mixed with the lingering afterglow of the "holy light," pierced through the thick clouds, like beams of divine light from Leonardo da Vinci's paintings, precisely falling upon this scorched and devastated land.

The nauseating stench of blood and the putrid smell of the void monsters in the air were completely evaporated, replaced by a strange and refreshing fragrance that calmed the mind.

That was the lingering scent after a high concentration of spiritual energy had cleansed away the filth, but to the hundreds of thousands of Western believers in the square, it was the taste of heaven.

People wept bitterly, pressing their foreheads to the muddy and blood-stained stone slabs. Some even kissed the scorched earth, now melted into the shape of a cross, where the angels had once descended, oblivious to the scalding heat burning their lips.

"Praise be to my Lord... the Lord has not forsaken His lamb..."

"A miracle...this is the redemption recorded in the Book of Revelation..."

Beside the ruins at the edge of the square, a young priest named Arthur lay in a pool of blood. During the monster's attack, a Roman column weighing several tons had swept across, crushing his legs. From his thighs to his ankles, the shattered fractures and massive blood loss had left him only able to wait in despair for death in the cold mud.

But just as the angels showered down a rain of light, a drop of pale golden light landed on Arthur's shoulder.

Immediately afterwards, he suddenly felt a strange, hot and vibrant rhythm coming from his broken legs.

That was the [Wood and Water Elemental Healing Technique] that Gu Qing forcibly distributed through the system in the form of "regional broadcast". However, under the deep-rooted religious beliefs of Westerners and the visual disguise at the bottom of the system, this vibrant Eastern spiritual energy presented an extremely sacred milky white light.

Father Arthur stretched out his hands, trembling, and his eyes widened in shock—he found a holy light surging between his palms.

As if driven by an instinct etched deep within his soul, he pressed those glowing hands onto his twisted, broken leg. At the same time, the "prayer" that the angel had just imprinted deep within his consciousness automatically surfaced in his mind.

"Merciful Lord, grant me the holy light of mercy to heal the wounds of this world..."

Father Arthur closed his eyes and chanted in the most devout and fervent voice of his life.

As he chanted for over ten seconds, a miracle occurred under the gaze of thousands of eyes.

A milky-white light, like a living liquid, frantically seeped into his flesh. His previously necrotic muscle tissue began to writhe violently, and his shattered bones emitted a series of cracking sounds as they reformed. Those bone fragments that had pierced his skin were, in just a few minutes, enveloped and healed by new flesh growth, leaving not a single scar!

"Thank the Lord! Thank Almighty God!"

Father Arthur suddenly stood up from the mud. Not only had he fully recovered, but he also felt a sacred and vast energy within him that he had never experienced before. He looked at his hands, trembling with emotion, and wept bitterly towards the heavens.

Not only him, but this fervent "awakening" spread like a virus across the square.

Hundreds and thousands of people who had just been filled with extreme fanaticism during the massacre felt as if some "divine knowledge" had been forcibly inserted into their minds.

"Behold! The Lord has given me strength! I am God's chosen one!"

A man in a suit who was originally just an ordinary white-collar worker now had his eyes closed. He awkwardly drew a glowing six-pointed star array in the air with his fingers. Accompanied by obscure and difficult-to-understand ancient Latin incantations, the surrounding air was instantly sucked away and violently distorted. A fireball the size of a washbasin, radiating terrifying heat, suddenly condensed and slammed into the distant ruins.

"Boom—!"

The violent explosion sent rubble dozens of meters away flying into the air!

He didn't know that the so-called magic circle he drew with sweat pouring down his face was actually just a variant of the "Basic Fire Array," which even beginner disciples in the Qi Refining stage of the Chinese cultivation world looked down upon.

On the other side, a previously frail nun suddenly let out a long howl. The muscles beneath her nun's robes bulged inexplicably, and strange, pale golden patterns appeared on her skin. She roared as she charged towards a wrecked heavy armored vehicle blocking her path, throwing a punch that, accompanied by a piercing metallic clang, dented and sent the several-ton steel structure tumbling away!

"Magic! This is magic and divine arts!"

"The abyss cannot devour us! We are extraordinary beings chosen by God! We are paladins! We are priests!"

The long, desperate night was utterly torn apart. At this moment, the suppressed fear of death transformed into the purest and most fanatical religious fervor.

That night, starting in Rome, the entire Western world was thrown into a frenzy.

……

at the same time.

Ten thousand miles away in China, atop the Kunlun Mountains, shrouded in mist year-round, stands the Lingxiao Palace.

Gu Qing, dressed in a long black robe, sat languidly on the high throne. In the center of the hall, a huge, ten-meter-long, semi-transparent holographic screen floated.

On the screen was a panoramic view of the "miracle" in Vatican Square, where demons danced wildly, fireballs and holy light flew together. In addition, a waterfall of data was scrolling wildly along the edge of the screen.

Watching the Westerners kneeling and gesturing wildly, Gu Qing picked up the spiritual tea on the table, gently skimmed off the foam, and his deep eyes showed no pity, only absolute rationality like that of a creator and a hint of undisguised mockery.

"Divine gift? Magic? The chosen one?"

Gu Qing chuckled and shook his head: "This is the tragedy of the ignorant. They've been sold out, and they're still helping me count the money."

"System, bring up the underlying data monitoring console for Western superhumans."

[Ding! Command confirmed. Background data retrieved.]

The current total number of awakened 'magicians' and 'priests' in the West: 12450.

[Purity of Faith Test: Extremely Fanatical.]

"Chinese cultivators cultivate the 'Tao.' They begin by sensing the flow of Qi into their bodies, then meditate, contemplate, and expand their meridians. Essentially, they are gradually analyzing the underlying logic of the universe, learning how to write their own 'source code.'"

"Chinese cultivation is an open-source system. Although it is extremely difficult to get started and the attrition rate is extremely high, if one succeeds in cultivation, the golden core and nascent soul in their dantian truly belong to them. Even if my system collapses one day, or even if I die, they will still possess overwhelming power."

Gu Qing's gaze pierced through the layers of clouds, looking down at those "magicians" on the other side of the ocean who were smug about releasing a fireball.

"And what about these Westerners?"

"The power you are using now is nothing more than an outsourced app called 'Western Magic' that I casually developed and forcibly installed into your minds."

Gu Qing's eyes turned extremely dangerous. This was the deepest landmine he, as the mastermind behind the scenes, had planted for the West.

"What do you think those sacred incantations you chant are? They are nothing more than 'call requests' that I set up in the system's backend. You have no ability to generate energy yourselves; you must pray to me for the distribution of energy by chanting incantations."

"What do you think those fancy magic circles drawn in mid-air are? They're just 'visual effects' I prepared in advance. They're only good for looking cool and increasing your fanaticism; they have no practical use in combat."

On the screen, more and more awakened Westerners began to gather, raising their hands and praising God, their eyes gleaming with pride and fanaticism.

Gu Qing put down his teacup, stood up, and walked to the edge of the main hall with his hands behind his back.

The mountain wind blew against the hem of his clothes, making them flutter.

"Let you party for a few days first."

Gu Qing stared westward, a cold smile curving his lips.

"In order to restrict you, and also for future harvesting, I have added an extremely fatal lock to the underlying logic of your 'magic system'."

"When you actually face those high-level void monsters, you will understand what cruel reality is."

Gu Qing turned around, waved his sleeve, and turned off the monitoring screen in front of him.

Now, all he needs to do is sit atop Kunlun Mountain, quietly watching these arrogant lambs inflate the bubble to its maximum size, and then wait for their wailing when the bubble bursts.