"The betrayer of mankind..."
After seeing Annan off, Nolan sat alone in the basent seat and poured himself a cup of erald-green wine, staring at its surface and muttering softly.
His expression was very complex.
No wonder he had not obtained any information about Nicholas.
Contrary to his outward indifference.
Even before Annan ntioned the matter—indeed, even before Tan Juan went to Frostwater Harbor—old Nolan had begun to suspect Nicholas.
Because the intelligence on Nicholas was just too clean.
He had confird it through various ans.
He did not know why Nicholas had not died, nor why he had co to Nolan, nor how he had crossed the national border... He even did not know how much he had brought with him or whether his power was stronger or weaker than before.
But there was one thing he could be sure of.
This man was indeed the Nicholas who "died" over a hundred years ago.
And with the information matching up with Annan’s account, many of his previous confusions were finally resolved:
Why could there be no trace found of the inventions, research outcos, or transformation products of a Gold-ranked Wizard—especially one specializing in the school of transmutation?
Even Silver-ranked transmuters could leave behind great inventions that would be talked about for decades, and this was even more the case for those at the Gold rank...
Without a sufficiently tenacious and firm "heterogeneous desire" for power, one cannot successfully endure the stigmatization of one’s soul.
To embark upon the path of the Transcendent, one hardly needs anything. Only enough wit and adaptability to successfully conquer at least one nightmare, and to have a guide willing to be a keeper of secrets.
And to advance to Silver, one must accumulate enough power—in the final step of becoming Silver, if the soul is too heavily eroded by curses, the step of "coughing out impurities" can even be fatal.
The boundary between life and death is approximately 65%.
With more than two-thirds of the soul eroded by curses, the remaining power is insufficient to support the existence of the soul.
Souls that completely collapse cannot even sustain an independent nightmare... They would just rge into the nightmare they had just purified.
If the erosion exceeds 25%, there will be a period of weakness after ascension. It would take several days of recovery before one could formally possess the "Pure Power" of the Silver rank—this is also known as the "third developntal period."
In this world, Transcendent scholars consider the period from birth to when infants grow to be about four or five years old, able to walk, eat, drink, defecate, and learn to speak as "the first developntal period," which is the "fulfillnt of the mind."
The ti from about twelve or thirteen to sixteen or seventeen is seen as "the second developntal period," which is the "fulfillnt of the body."
The third developntal period is the "fulfillnt of the soul."
Just as the awakening of the mind from infancy to childhood, and the maturation of the body from child to adolescent—in the ascension to Silver, the soul has just begun to condense and mature. All Transcendent powers related to the soul begin at this stage.
If the soul is not pure enough, one absolutely cannot safely pass through this ascension.
And the advancent to Gold rank...
Or rather, the "Stigmatization" level.
The mortality rate during the advancent ritual is as high as 15%.
Although it is less than one-fifth, it is actually a very high rate of death—keep in mind, everyone knows there is only one chance for the advancent ritual and it cannot fail; moreover, they all choose to advance only after being fully prepared and believing they will succeed.
And the barrier to this threshold is "desire."
Or rather, "obsession."
The "hue" of the Stigmatization phase stems from desire itself. Moreover, the direction of advancent must match the direction of one’s desire—if one’s desire itself is to possess a perfect body, then they cannot successfully advance to Gold in the school of transmutation; if they yearn for true wisdom, they cannot use the Berserker profession to complete their advancent.
That is the aning of "profession."
Desire itself is vague. Even a true warrior who longs to die in combat and desires battle and glory will inevitably have monts when his will is entwined with romantic love.
And the purpose of a "profession" is like a roughly shaped "clay idol."
To lead the appropriate desire into it, fire and mold it... and then refine it ticulously.
During the advancent process, one’s obsessions are continually burned.
This is the "forging" ritual.
In an iron pot, one cannot lt iron into liquid iron. To burn the soul and draw out the elents, one must cast a more advanced forge.
As the Goddess of Cup said, "Human desire is an eternal foundation." Since ancient tis, from the fall of the gods to street brawls, the shadow of "desire" is inevitably present in any event.
Only the furnace forged from desire can slt one’s own soul.
And if their obsession runs out before their advancent is complete, they will beco mindless husks.
Such husks are very precious and rare materials for the Transcendents.
They are called "Death Cocoons," or also "Human Puppets."
Just like butterflies that ultimately failed to break free from their chrysalises.
They have lost the bodies and identities of insects, yet they cannot be called butterflies. They are rely an interdiate state between the two.
Due to this chaotic definition, Death Cocoons can replace any living being in any ritual as a sacrifice... even if a ritual requires the self-sacrifice of a Transcendent of the Gold tier, they can be used as a substitute; even if it’s a specific, person-required ritual, they can be used as a substitute.
——Each "cocoon" can replace a person.
Therefore, it is also the best material to divert a curse.
They look like vegetative state patients, but neither their soul nor body has any damage... They even possess so powers of the Gold tier and can survive continuously without needing to eat or drink.
But that’s just re survival.
Those who have failed to advance to Gold no longer possess any desires, as if they have been stripped away from this world.
They will no longer take any action. Including listening, speaking, sitting, walking, including eating, drinking, excreting, sleeping, entertainnt, and even the instinct for self-preservation will fade— even if poked in the pupil with a needle, there will be no reaction.
Although their bodies and souls objectively still exist and are very healthy. But it’s no different from death.
So Nolan knew from the beginning... Nicholas must have an extraordinary "yearning."
Every Transcendent of the Gold tier cannot act on a whim. Every move they make is related to their own obsession.
And Nicholas is the world’s only "Great Sage" at present. He who inherited all the pursuits of the ancient alchemists... His goal can only be the Philosopher’s Stone.
But he even completed the Philosopher’s Stone.
Then what more could he yearn for?
"I should have thought of it earlier..."
Nolan sighed.
An alchemist in possession of a Philosopher’s Stone... What else would he want to do?
There is probably only one answer.
——He wants to beco a creator.
And for a creator, the "old world" is unnecessary.
He has enough power to create a world from scratch... A world that belongs only to him.
And all he needs is ti and resources.
So that’s why all news of Nicholas was completely erased...
"That is what is called the ’more perfect form of mankind,’ oh."
The sharp and hoarse voice echoed in the cellar.
Nolan’s shadow suddenly turned into substantial black mud, rising beside him.
A hand ford from the black mud malevolently picked up old Nolan’s wine glass and poured it into the shadow.
Then, a young man’s head, looking to be in his twenties and bearing a resemblance to Nolan’s appearance, erged next to old Nolan’s ear.
His face bore an unfettered and malevolent smile, undisguised, "What do you think, Nolan?"
"Faceless Poet."
Nolan did not rise from his seat, instead, he slightly lowered his head while sitting on the sofa, as if to nod in greeting, "I knew you hadn’t left."
He had, of course, just lied.
Or it could be said to be an act of keeping secrets.
For he was not a cardinal of the Faceless Poet... he was the Pope.
"I, on the other hand, find him quite pitiful."
Old Nolan sighed and said calmly, gazing at the still surface of the wine.
"What kind of experiences lead him to decide to create a so-called ’higher species’ that ’wouldn’t betray nor be betrayed,’ one without ’misunderstandings’? And what are the tangled and complex thoughts... that have led them to be ’reproductively isolated’ from themselves?
"——How could a Demigod capable of creating life possibly decide everything by the roll of a die."
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