Chapter 86: The Believer and the Holy Decree

Chapter 86: Believers and the Divine Decree

"Only you would reject it, thus setting you apart from the gods."

Yi Fengchu remained silent briefly, relishing the unusual fullness in his stomach, before asking, "Now that I've devoured the Father of Cursed Calamities, will it affect the Fate Domain?"

"Why didn’t you remind me while I was eating?"

"It doesn’t matter," the phone said offhandedly. "The Father of Cursed Calamities is just sustenance—you haven’t tried to assimilate or control the Curse Domain."

["Temporarily possessing" is not the same as "fully mastering." You must have noticed that, right?]

Yi Fengchu nodded.

Indeed, after consuming the Father of Cursed Calamities, he had become more sensitive to the hidden power in people's words, as if he could vaguely wield the force of curses to turn malicious speech into reality.

But this sensation was entirely different from his mastery over "Fate" and "Time."

To make an analogy, the Curse Domain was like a masterless blade that had fallen into Yi Fengchu’s hands. He could swing it to inflict harm, but it never felt truly instinctive—and if he wasn’t careful, its sharp edge might even cut him.

In contrast, the Fate and Time Domains were more like his own limbs. Wielding their power was as instinctive as an animal moving its body—they were unfailingly loyal to him, never disobedient.

"Just wait," the phone said. "Once you fully digest the Father of Cursed Calamities, the Curse Domain might approach you again."

[By then, if you don’t wish to accept it, you can choose a suitable vessel to temporarily bear the scepter of curses… For example, that "Curse Cloak" you wove from the offspring of the Moth God would be perfect.]

Good—the solution was now clear. Yi Fengchu relaxed completely, drowsily exhaling a yawn.

Ever since he had eaten his fill, drowsiness had become more frequent, like a snake curling up in its den for hibernation.

But this slight fatigue wasn’t a problem. It didn’t interfere with his daily life—in fact, it made him feel even more comfortable, as if he were curled by a hearth in the depths of winter.

Yi Fengchu lowered his gaze, scrutinizing the three parchments for a few more moments before neatly folding them twice. Then he asked, "By the way, the Goddess of Misfortune wants me to summon my followers to the Shadow Kingdom. Where is that?"

The phone replied, "Do you remember that train that once stopped at the coastal station?"

"You told me it was the only way to reach the Shadow Realm."

"Exactly. The Shadow Kingdom is located within the Shadow Realm—but as for its exact location… there’s no definitive answer."

The phone sighed in a very human-like manner, sounding somewhat resigned. "Legend says the space within the Shadow Realm is chaotic and in constant flux, so the domain of misfortune is constantly changing its position. Aside from the followers of the Goddess of Misfortune, only a handful of people have ever been blessed with fortune enough to catch a glimpse of its silhouette… which is why records of it are so scarce."

After hearing this, Yi Fengchu began to understand why the Goddess of Misfortune had chosen such an unstable place for their meeting.

—Because only those who were "blessed with fortune" could reach the Shadow Kingdom.

And among the gods, only Yi Fengchu could influence the course of fate, bestowing enough luck upon his followers. No other deity, no matter how powerful or numerous their Believers, could compete with the Lord of Fate in matters of fortune.

So, the Shadow Kingdom truly was a clandestine rendezvous that could exclude all other interfering factors…

"Alright," Yi Fengchu muttered, opening the [Disciples Registry] section on his phone. "Time to make use of those suddenly multiplying Believers whose prayers have woken me up several times lately."

Upon entering the "My Followers" tab, countless names appeared before him—rough estimates suggested the number of Believers had increased by hundreds, if not thousands, of times.

The last time he had checked this list, most names had been gray, indicating individuals who had crossed paths with him but remained "unconverted."

Apart from the blazing aureate radiance of Bryce—an Apostle and fanatic of unknown origin—only a few names, including Luo Shengle’s, had appeared in the pale green of "fledgling belief."

But now, deeper shades of green, orange, and red filled the screen, like ripe fruit nestled among lush leaves, giving Yi Fengchu a profound sense of accomplishment.

Red represented "ardent devotion," the second-highest tier below "fanaticism." This category included: Li Lanyin (Gatekeeper · Devout), Kurt (Priest · Devout), the remaining members of the Crowned Peacock Snake Tribe…

And a long list of unfamiliar names.

Judging by their onomastic patterns, these new devout followers seemed to hail from different worlds and civilizations. Their only commonality was the suffix marking their affiliation with esoteric cults like the "Destiny Pilgrimage," with most serving as bishops, priests, or missionaries, dedicating their lives to spreading the glory of Fate.

Below red, orange stood for "deep faith"—in truth, this was the highest level most ordinary beings could attain. It meant steadfast conviction in the Lord of Fate’s benevolence and power, treating worship and prayer as inseparable habits of life.

Aside from Luo Shengle, whose status had quietly shifted from green to orange, most deep Believers were also beings from various worlds, many of them ordinary members of religious sects.

Yi Fengchu didn’t recognize most of them, but he still read through the entire list meticulously, line by line.

The phone quipped with mirth, "Rare to see you so serious."

Lately, its impression of Yi Fengchu had been dominated by his deicidal bloodlust. Seeing him so calm now felt almost unnatural.

Yi Fengchu skimmed the names of his followers and replied absentmindedly, "I just think that since they’ve chosen to turn to me, I should respond to them."

Their names lined up on the phone screen seemed so minuscule—yet Yi Fengchu knew the resolve it took for them to worship a distant deity as their lifelong faith.

Only after undergoing cathartic metamorphoses in their inner worlds would these Believers finally present their true names before him in written form.

The phone chuckled softly. "Weren’t you just complaining about how noisy their prayers were?"

What a contrary serpent!

Yi Fengchu tapped the screen, ignoring it.

After reviewing the list, his finger paused at a small speaker icon in the upper-right corner.

"This is…?" he asked hesitantly.

[Just as you guessed,] the phone answered, observing Yi Fengchu’s slightly disbelieving expression through the front camera. [An omnibus proclamation to all followers—though in the mystical world, it’s called a "Divine Decree."]

"Go on. Use it to deliver the holy edict and prophecy of Fate, bestowing blessings and guidance upon your followers!"

"Your words shall illuminate the path for tens of thousands of Fate Believers to follow!"

……

In a certain labyrinthine realm, deep within a dark forest, a player leaned heavily against a tree root, gasping.

Blood soaked his clothes, and he could already hear the heavy, muffled footsteps of the monster approaching.

Clenching his jaw, he pulled out the last coin he had and smiled faintly, his pale lips moving silently:

*‘Praise Fate… Let me perform one last divination, to see if I can escape death yet again…’*

The moment the coin left his fingers—before it could even land back in his palm—he heard a transcendent voice, as if from a great distance:

"Fate grants you fortune."

"My faithful flock, seek the path to the Shadow Kingdom. Go to it, reach it…"

"And there, you shall be rewarded."

The player’s eyes widened in shock. Before he could react, the coin tinkled upon the earth, ringing clear in the silence.

The crisp sound echoed through the silent, uninhabited woods, making him clench his fists nervously and hold his breath in anticipation.

Logically, this noise should have exposed his location, hastening the monster's approach...

But it didn’t.

The heavy footsteps gradually faded away. As an adept of the Fate Domain, the player could naturally sense a subtle shift in his fate, as if everything was now flowing in a favorable direction.

Just as his Lord had proclaimed, this was a blessing of fortune.

Saved from the brink of death, the player wore a radiant smile and offered an even more devout prayer, praising the generosity of his Lord’s gifts.

After resting briefly to regain some strength, he picked up the coin and vanished agilely into the dense wilderness.

The Kingdom of Shadows...

The term echoed in his mind, fueling his desperate will to survive.

He *had* to live—to fulfill every command of his Lord!

...

In a distant world, steam-powered aircraft weaved between chimneys belching thick black smoke, while horse-drawn carriages clattered beneath towering spires, kicking up dust.

A newsgirl, her twin jet-black braids framing her face, had strikingly pale silver eyes. Waving the latest issue, she cheerfully preached to a customer who had stopped to buy:

"Good morning, Mrs. Glenn! Long time no see—you’ve grown even more elegant and radiant!"

"Would you be interested in learning about our Lord—the Lord of Fate, who knows the future and prophecies—?"

Mrs. Glenn frowned impatiently, thinking, *Not this god again!*

Lately, faith in Fate had risen like a rising sun, its radiance swiftly spreading across every district. Followers of Fate seemed to be everywhere now.

But Mrs. Glenn was already a devotee of the Fallacy of Truth. She would never be swayed by heresy to abandon her faith...

Just as she was about to cut the girl off, the newsgirl suddenly fell silent.

At the same time, the girl tilted her head slightly, as if listening intently to something with immense excitement and reverence.

Her demeanor was so solemn that Mrs. Glenn felt oddly reluctant to interrupt. Instead, she clutched her newspaper and glanced around.

To her surprise, people all along the street were behaving just like the newsgirl—as if collectively hearing words inaudible to others!

For a moment, the entire block was plunged into an eerie, synchronized silence.

Then, cheers erupted one after another, rising like ocean waves, nearly shaking the fog-shrouded sky—

"Praise Fate!"

"Praise the great Lord of Fate!"

In unison, they cried, "We, your humble servants, shall fulfill Your will!"

Instantly, Mrs. Glenn felt like the outsider. A chill at witnessing such fervent religious unity seeped into her bones, prompting a shrill gasp. Without waiting for her change, she snatched the newspaper and hurried away.

...

Under a starry sky, the limitless desert stretched beyond sight, nothing but rolling dunes under the pale moonlight.

A group of distinctively dressed travelers marched across the sands—each clad in simple white robes adorned only with golden serpentine embroidery at the sleeves and hems. Those with long hair tied it back with silver ornaments, their curves mimicking the sinuous shape of serpents.

Their goal seemed to be crossing this boundless desert on foot.

Yet, astonishingly, they carried no water, food, or protective gear—not even shoes. They tread barefoot on the scorching sands, enduring the desert’s dangers and its sweltering days and freezing nights with nothing but their flesh.

These travelers were ascetics from the Destiny Pilgrimage: three were adepts of the Fate Domain, two belonged to the Time Domain, and the remaining two hailed from the Life Domain and the Nightmare Domain, respectively.

Silently, they moved through the night like white specters, driven by a conviction beyond ordinary comprehension.

Suddenly, they halted in unison. A brilliant light ignited in their eyes, shining like the morning star over the desert—revealing the fervor stirring within their hearts.

One by one, they knelt, their pristine robes pooling around them like blossoms of spotless white blooming in the depths of the sands.

"We thank our Lord for His blessing..."

In one voice, they vowed, "We will not fail You!"