Lord of Mysteries 2: Circle of Inevitability

Chapter 883 The Poor Genie

After receiving those two items, Bernadette had fully remembered what she and the former Angel of Imagination, now the True Creator—Adam—were cooperating on.

Now, it was the final step of this transaction. The gray stone tablet she held in her hand was the second Blasphemy Slate transformed from the remains of the Ancient Sun God, the predecessor of the True Creator, recording the names, potion formulas, and related rituals for each Sequence of the twenty-two paths of the divine!

Bernadette originally didn’t want to push the transaction to this step, hoping to resolve the corruption issue on her father’s body before this, thereby ending the vortex ritual, but ultimately, she had to face the current situation.

Many of her efforts had failed, and several of her backup plans either didn’t have time to take effect, or lost their effect because she was restricted by her father in the mausoleum and unable to leave. She could only hope that the proclaimed inevitable outcome would come to pass.

Bernadette raised both hands, pushing the Magic Wishing Lamp and the second Blasphemy Slate towards midair.

The moment He saw these two items, Emperor Roselle fully understood all of True Creator Adam’s arrangements and ultimate purpose.

He reached out His hand, distorting the distance between the Magic Wishing Lamp and Himself, making it fall directly into His palm.

The Blasphemy Slate first disappeared, then appeared in the hands of Amon, who was wearing a black pointed soft hat.

Holding the Magic Wishing Lamp, Roselle smiled calmly at Amon and said, “Now that I am the true Black Emperor, and deeply corrupted by the Uncertain Mist, I indeed might be able to do something with this Magic Wishing Lamp and the Genie inside it as a medium.”

“It’s not ‘might’, it’s ‘certainly’,” Amon adjusted the monocle on His right eye, smiling as He corrected.

Roselle didn’t say more. Holding the Magic Wishing Lamp, He half-closed His eyes, extending His consciousness to this golden object.

This brought along some of the white mist that had begun to erode His consciousness.

Vaguely, Roselle seemed to see another barrier standing between heaven and earth.

That barrier was wrapped in thin grayish-white fog, its specific appearance indiscernible.

Soon, Roselle sensed a gap in the grayish-white fog, on that invisible barrier, but couldn’t lock onto it.

At this moment, Amon pressed His right hand against the crystal monocle wedged in His eye socket.

That monocle suddenly lit up with a brilliance that seemed to illuminate the entire world.

Roselle’s consciousness, preliminarily combined with the Uncertain Mist’s corruption, instantly floated into the corresponding gap.

A haze immediately appeared before His “eyes”.

Deep within that swirling smoke seemed to be hidden thirty-three layers of sky, each layer with numerous buildings faintly visible.

Roselle’s consciousness quickly ascended, arriving at the highest layer of sky, coming to a majestic and grand palace.

He “saw” an incredibly enormous imperial figure, “saw” that the figure’s face was masked by strings of jade, and beneath the jade strings seemed to be nothing, a void.

Roselle inexplicably felt that this enormous imperial figure was very similar to Himself, born from the same source, yet encompassing Him. A close connection was quickly established between the two.

This connection swiftly eroded Roselle’s consciousness, yet was blocked by the corruption of the Uncertain Mist. They both merged and opposed each other.

Roselle momentarily regained some clarity.

A flash of inspiration struck Him, and using that close connection, He lowered His stance and said in His true mother tongue, “Imperial brother, please lend me your strength!”

That emperor with a face shielded by jade strings attached to a tall oriental crown suddenly stood up.

Behind Him, several similar imperial figures appeared, these figures each with different external appearances, but similarly with faces covered in jade strings, lacking faces, a complete void.

At the same time, all thirty-three layers of the sky deep within the haze lit up, revealing magnificent buildings and sacred figures.

Roselle’s vision was instantly filled with azure light.

His consciousness suddenly returned to the Black Emperor divine body, seeing bursts of azure light erupting from within, dispersing and dissolving the white mist that had deeply eroded Him. Yet as time passed, the azure light and white mist began to show signs of merging in some places.

During this process, the Uncertain Mist did not withdraw its white mist. On the one hand, this was due to the barrier’s obstruction and the influence of the True Creator and Amon; on the other hand, the Uncertain Mist was following its own chaotic madness, following its instinctive desires and cravings, wanting to truly merge with the azure light.

Roselle increasingly felt as if He was another facet of the Uncertain Mist, the connection established between Them through the white mist quickly becoming unusually solid.

At this point, even if the Uncertain Mist wanted to recall that white mist, it couldn’t be done instantly, requiring some time, unless Roselle agreed.

The ball of white mist from the vortex ritual involuntarily rose, flying towards Roselle’s body. This terrified Perle, who was currently only able to survive with the help of this mist, while the Shadow of the Beauty Goddess and the miniature crimson moon in the mist both stopped advancing, standing still.

Roselle once again cast His gaze towards Amon, who was holding the Blasphemy Slate, and said with some emotion, “As expected of a Visionary…”

To dare to imagine this, to dare to arrange this!

Amon’s previous answer had confirmed Roselle’s initial and boldest guess was correct.

The true purpose of the True Creator using the vortex ritual was to deal with the Uncertain Mist, that great existence peering at the current world!

Normally, even if that True Creator and the six true gods in the astral world put aside Their grudges and fully cooperated, They couldn’t accomplish such a thing, at most forcing the Uncertain Mist to retreat. But now, He had used the vortex ritual, used the Uncertain Mist’s craving for the Black Emperor true god, allowing the Uncertain Mist to establish a firm and close connection with Himself, making Himself increasingly similar to the Uncertain Mist, thus creating a certain opportunity.

Of course, the so-called opportunity certainly wasn’t to use this connection to transfer power over and directly attack the Uncertain Mist; that wouldn’t lead to a very good effect. But in the mystical world, there were some underlying rules that could be exploited, many ways to defeat powerful existences by harming the weak, which was the basis of many curses.

As this thought flashed, Roselle began to rub His fingers over the golden surface of the Magic Wishing Lamp, covered in mysterious and complex symbols, muttering, “Genie!”

The wick at the spout suddenly ignited, emitting light that looked like viscous water, spurting upwards to form a blurred and distorted pale golden figure.

As soon as that pale golden figure appeared, He turned His head, about to dive back into the Magic Wishing Lamp, but the white mist and azure light eroding Roselle’s Black Emperor divine body suddenly split off a large portion, like a bear smelling honey or a vampire placed next to a pool of fresh, healthy blood, violently surging around this pale golden figure, binding it layer upon layer, as if submerging it.

Genie twisted and struggled desperately, trying to escape this predicament and shrink back into the Magic Wishing Lamp, but couldn’t succeed no matter what. His pale golden figure gradually showed signs of merging with the white mist and azure light.

Genie’s mouth kept opening and closing, as if frantically cursing Amon and Roselle, but restrained by the white mist and azure light, He couldn’t even make a sound.

Roselle raised the Magic Wishing Lamp and Genie to His chest level, distorting the relationship between the main body and external items, briefly making Himself an appendage of Genie.

In an instant, Genie, originally one with the Uncertain Mist and completely of the same source, seemed to become another facet of the Uncertain Mist again, yet was subjected to sealing, unable to exert His power, appearing quite weak!

Roselle looked at Amon again.

Now, before your authority over loopholes as a true god of the Error pathway, under this firm and close connection, from a mystical perspective, the weak Genie can completely equal the powerful Uncertain Mist. Severely injuring Genie would be equivalent to severely injuring the Uncertain Mist and making Genie fall asleep would be equivalent to making the Uncertain Mist fall asleep!

What happens next is up to the two of you!

Amon smiled and raised the Blasphemy Slate in His hand.

In the Forsaken Land of the Gods, atop the majestic and stretching mountain range, before a huge blood-stained cross.

The True Creator—Adam—who had shaken off the influence of the Outer God’s ravings, was already waiting here.

He wore a simple white robe, had a thick golden beard, eyes as clear as a child’s, and beneath His feet was a dense shadow, different from Him, with five heads. It seemed to be His, yet not His.

Adam opened His mouth and said solemnly and sacredly, “I am One, and also Infinity, the Beginning and the End.”

As soon as He finished speaking, True Creator Adam’s clear eyes instantly became illusory, and around His body appeared a strange sea that seemed to encompass all colors and all possibilities.

Immediately after, Adam grasped the silver cross pendant hanging on His chest.

Above His head, a blazing yet illusory sun leaped out. To His left, lightning, gale winds, and sea waves interwove to form an overlooking phantom. To His right, a white tower with numerous brass eyes rose from the ground.

These illusory, seemingly imagined authorities and symbols, along with Adam’s own shadow, driven by the chaotic sea, merged into Adam’s body one after another.

With a thunderous sound, that strange sea encompassing all colors and all possibilities surged up, submerging the entire mountain range, while Adam expanded into a huge figure of light that seemed capable of supporting heaven and earth.

This True Creator briefly returned to His peak state, and that human savior who had battled ancient gods appeared in the world once again!

He walked slowly on the chaotic and pitch-black “water surface”, pointing His finger towards the sea that was both real and illusory.

With this pointing, the surface of the second Blasphemy Slate in Amon’s hand quickly surged with chaotic seawater encompassing all colors and all possibilities.

Amon no longer held it directly, letting this mottled and ancient stone tablet float in front of His body.

He then looked towards the pale golden Genie that was frantically twisting while seemingly cursing Him, revealing a smile that made the other even more furious.

Then, He let that Blasphemy Slate rise up.

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