Chapter 339 337-A Conversation in the Void
"No, I cannot," Bogart replied without a second thought. "It goes against the rules. All ten Entourages have the right to choose a successor. If I intervene, the punishment would be beyond imagination."
Fernard's lips twitched slightly, barely containing his inner fury. "Bogart, doesn't my possession of the supreme deity's staff prove my identity? I am the most qualified person to inherit from the Wraith Cult. The sudden emergence of this person is clearly suspicious!"
The ten Entourages of the God of Wraith were all individuals of exceptional talent.
Before being absorbed by the God of Wraith, each of them was at the Demi-god realm.
Their strengths were extraordinary, each possessing unique abilities.
Bogart, who wielded the power of fate and believed in destiny, found the appearance of Ethan particularly unusual.
Fernard's acquisition of the God of Wraith's staff had already signified his recognition by the supreme deity.
However, bound by the rules, Bogart slowly shook his head and said in a low voice, "My lord, your words are reasonable. However, my intervention would be inappropriate. It could lead to a deadly conflict among the Entourages of the supreme deity, something the deity himself would not wish to see."
Fernard was infuriated to the point of madness.
This was the first time Bogart had categorically refused his request.
Bogart had always been compliant to Fernard, but now he was contradicting him for a stranger.
A thought struck Fernard. Brandishing the staff, he pointed it at Bogart: "I now command you in the name of this staff to eliminate that man in the Cult's library. Otherwise, I will refuse to inherit anything from the Wraith Cult. You, with your memories and those antiquated things, can sink into the sea of history as time passes by."
Bogart's face trembled with shock, his expression one of astonishment.
He hadn't expected Fernard to be so childish as to abandon everything of the Wraith Cult simply because a competitor appeared. Was this a joke?
More than ever, Bogart felt that Fernard was not the right successor for the Wraith Cult.
The Law of the God of Wraith should not fall into Fernard's hands.
The stronger this thought became, the more guilt Bogart felt as he looked at the staff of the God of Wraith in Fernard's hands.
While Bogart was somewhat unclear about the happenings surrounding the God of Wraith, the tasks given to him by the deity were deeply engraved in his heart.
The Wraith Cult must have a successor.
After a long contemplation, Bogart did not speak clearly but vaguely said, "Then I will go and see, clarify the situation, and I will try to make a move."
Fernard's heart leaped with joy.
Looking at Ethan in the 'mirror,' still engrossed in the Cult's secret scrolls, he let out a sinister, cold chuckle.
No one, absolutely no one, could contest with him for the inheritance of the Wraith Cult, even if he so despised it!
...
Ethan was deeply interested in the hidden scrolls.
Most of them were preserved on parchment, giving off an ancient feel.
The parchments had withstood the test of time, but they were still in remarkably good condition.
Their surface was a deep brown, starkly contrasting with the wooden shelves around them.
The edges of the parchments were slightly worn, yet their once exquisite craftsmanship was still evident.
Each scroll was about a meter long and thirty centimeters wide.
Both ends of each parchment were tightly bound with a thin hemp cord to prevent the scrolls from unraveling.
Attached to one end of the cord was a small copper pendant, intricately carved with delicate patterns.
It was clear that the creator of these parchments held these treasures in high esteem.
Ethan casually picked up a parchment scroll and effortlessly unrolled it.
The surface of the parchment was covered in dense, ancient script, written in a style that was both fluid and elegant.
Despite the passage of time, the writing remained clear and legible, as if narrating one mysterious tale after another.
The back of the parchment was a stark contrast, completely blank and exceptionally neat and tidy.
Ethan attempted to decipher the content on the parchment.
Though he knew he was unfamiliar with the script, somehow, he understood it.
[Wraith Cult Doctrinal Outline Scroll]
[In the beginning, there was chaos. From the primordial emergence, chaos shattered, and the deity of creation was born...]
The contents of the Wraith Cult Doctrinal Outline Scroll were quite straightforward.
It spoke of the separation of heaven and earth, the emergence of the deity, followed by years of evolution, leading to the appearance and proliferation of various races.
Ethan had heard such tales no less than a thousand times, bordering on tediousness.
Just as he was losing interest in reading further, a system prompt sounded:
"[Wraith Cult Doctrinal Outline Scroll] detected. Would you like to store it?"
Ethan raised an eyebrow slightly and shrugged indifferently, thinking, "As long as it doesn't take up space, absolutely."
For Ethan, this hidden scroll held no practical use, but if taken to the Azure Empire and given to some old scholars, it could cause quite a stir. Ethan could also use it to exchange for some resources.
Then, the system prompted again:
"[Wraith Cult Doctrinal Outline Scroll] has been stored. The host can access and read it automatically."
Ethan, undistracted, picked up another parchment scroll and unrolled it.
The title read: [Wraith Cult Sacred Element Magic Compendium].
His eyes lit up at the sight of the name.
Flipping through the parchment, he found that it contained not only text but also various intricate patterns and diagrams.
These diagrams illustrated the methods for channeling energy, the very essence of Wraith Cult's Sacred Element Magic.
This magic, akin to the light element magic, was something Ethan could even incorporate into his understanding of Holy Light Magic.
Excitedly, Ethan mentally roared, "System, store this for me."
The system responded: "The [Wraith Cult Sacred Element Magic Compendium] has been stored."
The deeper Ethan delved into the library-like space and its hidden treasures, the more he was awestruck.
Here lay a systematic approach to magical advancement, including methods for physical conditioning and soul strengthening.
These comprehensive and complete resources were exactly what Ethan, who had embarked on his magical journey mid-way, sorely needed.
Ethan's approach had always been eclectic, learning whatever seemed powerful and integrating whatever worked best.
However, he had never systematically and comprehensively enhanced his abilities.
Now, with this trove of knowledge tailored for him, the opportunity had arrived.
He might not be able to learn everything at once, but he could let the system store it for future reference.
He could use the Wraith Cult's secrets to scrutinize his body and breakthrough realms, identifying gaps and hidden flaws - a necessary process for his development.
With this thought, Ethan wasted no time.
Holding the parchment scrolls in his hands, he opened them one by one, allowing the system to record their contents.
The hidden treasures of the Wraith Cult flowed into his system like a river, enriching his repository of knowledge.
Bogart watched from a higher vantage point, observing every move of Ethan.
In his heart, he was troubled. Fernard, restless and unsuitable, was not the right successor for the Wraith Cult.
Yet, the man before him, Ethan, didn't seem to possess any exceptional qualities either, equally impetuous.
Confronted with such profound treasures of the Wraith Cult, Ethan merely skimmed through them, unable to calm his mind for deeper study and memorization.
Didn't he realize the importance of seizing the moment to absorb even a little knowledge?
If he were to be expelled, regret would be futile.
"Are all people of the outside world like these two now? If so, does this mean the legacy of the supreme deity is destined to be forgotten?" Bogart murmured to himself, a trace of melancholy in his gaze. "If that's the case, this man should not be here. His presence here is a desecration to my lord."
A flash of fierceness passed through Bogart's eyes, and a pale white staff appeared in his hand.
His body radiated light, ready to unleash Aurora Magic and physically purify Ethan.
However, before Bogart could act, his surroundings rippled, and he found himself in a space engulfed in darkness.
A colossal Wraith stared intently at Bogart, its mouth opening and closing, its voice thunderous:
"Bogart, you have violated the rules. You know he is a trialist of the god chosen by the supreme deity's Entourage. Yet, you still intend to harm him?"
Bogart's pupils contracted sharply to the size of pinpoints. Staring at the Wraith, he shouted in disbelief, "Sheimodo, how have you become like this?"
The void resembling a black hole in Sheimodo's chest, in particular, filled Bogart with even more fear.
He knew Sheimodo's strength better than anyone.
Among the ten Entourages, solely based on power, Sheimodo was the strongest.
His chest was pierced through - had he encountered an Archangel Deity?
"Don't speak of these irrelevant matters," Sheimodo said curtly, clearly not wanting to elaborate. "That man is named Ethan, my chosen trialist of the god. You must not lay a hand on him."
Bogart didn't respond verbally but instead scrutinized Sheimodo's colossal form.
Observing Sheimodo's decaying and progressively deteriorating body, Bogart suppressed the shock in his eyes and spoke with a slight solemnity:
"Sheimodo, I understand your urgency. But look at that man. Is he truly fit to inherit the legacy of the supreme deity? The library holds countless treasures, each capable of inciting wars and chaos in the mortal realm, coveted by all. Yet, look at him, unable to settle his mind, sitting on a trove of treasures without any awareness of their true value."
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