Chapter 435: Chapter 378: Fictional Law
The glow of Teleportation faded in the grand hall, and Jeming’s figure reappeared.
The instant his feet were firmly on the ground, he clearly felt countless gazes, like invisible probes, snapping into focus on him all at once.
The meanings contained in those gazes were quite complicated.
There was scrutiny, there was inquiry, there was disbelief, there was deep curiosity, and there was even a faint, hard‑to‑describe... regret?
The only thing missing was the congratulations or admiration that ought to be given to someone who had just seized the final victory in an intense melee.
Jeming understood this perfectly well, yet his face remained calm.
He knew that the "methods" he had used in the arena just now had definitely been seen through at a glance by these sharp‑eyed High Tier Wizards in the hall.
Although their gazes differed, out of Wizard etiquette and respect for a Nolun Wizard, no one rashly stepped forward to disturb Jeming.
Only Viola.
She sidled over like a crab sneaking about, moving sideways in silence until she was right next to Jeming.
Then she gently bumped him with her elbow, lowered her voice, and asked in a tone full of disbelief:
"Hey, Jeming... your Law... is it really related to ’Imaginary Elements’?"
Looking at Viola’s sneaky yet brimming‑with‑curiosity expression, then sensing the Wizards around them who seemed to be chatting with each other but were in fact all pricking up their ears, Jeming couldn’t help but laugh.
He didn’t deliberately lower his voice; instead, he nodded openly and admitted without hesitation:
"Yeah, that’s right."
He felt this didn’t really count as a lie.
For this Wizard Universe, the Energy form called "Spiritual Qi" simply did not exist within their cognitive system.
From their perspective, classifying it as the product of "Imaginary Elements" or a "Fictional Law" was perfectly reasonable.
Although, through the light curtain and Jeming’s own earlier mention of the term "Imaginary Elements", everyone had already formed some guesses in their hearts.
But when he actually confirmed it himself, the hall inevitably erupted into a wave of suppressed gasps and murmurs.
Viola’s eyes went even wider as she bluntly pressed him:
"What were you thinking?! How could you choose that direction?!"
Jeming had long anticipated this kind of reaction.
In the mainstream understanding of the Wizard World, choosing "Imaginary Elements" or the related "Fictional Law" as one’s core research direction was truly a highly "non‑mainstream" choice, even regarded as "irrational".
All of this stemmed from the inherently paradoxical and trap‑ridden nature of the "Fictional Law" itself.
Back when Jeming decided to fix "Spiritual Qi" as the core Law of his own Wizard path, his first concern was not how to construct the Incense Fire Divine Dao, but a more fundamental question—would this Wizard Universe, which took materialism and the exploration of rules as its core, even permit someone to ascend by relying on a Law that "does not exist" in this universe?
For this, he spent a huge amount of time and effort querying the massive database of the Nolun Workshop.
In the end, he found information regarding "Fictional Laws".
The conclusion was simple: it was possible.
The history of Wizard Civilization is long, and the number of clever minds and bold fantasists within it is beyond counting.
Long ago, quite a few top Wizards had pondered similar questions: in essence, so‑called Laws are a systematic summary and truth‑seeking of certain objective things or principles; in themselves they are merely a kind of "knowledge".
Then, if a Wizard could personally "define" a thing and "set" a set of operating rules for it, and then research and master it as if it were a real Law, wouldn’t they, in theory, be able to approach "omnipotence"?
This path was named the Fictional Law by Wizards.
And "Imaginary Elements" are precisely things produced by, or associated with, such "false" Laws that are subjectively "set" into existence.
The term "Imaginary" already reveals its essence—born from imagination, rather than objective existence.
Theoretically, this path is viable, and historically there have indeed been Wizards who succeeded.
But in the end, the path of "Fictional Law" was almost completely eliminated from the mainstream choices of Wizard Civilization.
There were many reasons for this.
First of all, although in theory a "Fictional Law" can be completed, those who can actually achieve it are as rare as phoenix feathers and qilin horns.
Because to construct a "Fictional Law" capable of producing "Imaginary Elements" and being recognized by the Wizard System, the researcher must first set up the Law they want with sufficient rigor and internal consistency.
After all, aside from the legendary Ninth Level beings, the Wizard World is still highly "materialistic", and all sorts of objective regularities are unshakable.
Wanting to conjure out of thin air a Law system that can make the foundational rules of the endless Chaotic Void "nod in approval" is even harder than delving deeply into an existing Law.
For example, when researching the Fire Element Law, the researcher only needs to focus on the properties and transformations of the Fire Element itself, as well as its interactions with other Elements.
But if you want to "set" a new Law similar to it, an entirely fresh "X Element Law", you not only need to understand the Fire Element, but also have a profound grasp of other basic Elements such as water, earth, and wind.
And even of related principles like Energy conservation, spatial structure, and so on, to ensure that your "setting" does not fundamentally conflict with these cornerstones, while still demonstrating enough "novelty".
Simply put, to research a normal Law, you might only need to comprehend and absorb a wisp of the corresponding Plane Origin to successfully get started.
But if you want to Fabricate a Law of your own, you must absorb Plane Origins from multiple different domains, with resource consumption and knowledge thresholds rising exponentially.
This single requirement alone is enough to eliminate ninety‑nine percent of the would‑be contenders.
However, even so, this still isn’t enough to stump those truly peerless geniuses within the Wizard Civilization.
After all, resources can be accumulated, and knowledge can be learned.
The crux lies in the second issue: the setting of a Fictional Law must not be "overly" rigorous.
This sounds completely opposite to the first requirement.
Yet according to the information Jeming found, if the setting is too rigorous and perfect, with airtight logic and no flaws to be found—
then it is highly likely that the Law in question is not entirely "Fictional" at all, but a Law that truly exists and has simply yet to be discovered and recorded by the Wizard Civilization!
Behind it corresponds some kind of substance, Energy, or rule that Wizards have not yet discovered.
The irony is that, in the era when research into "Imaginary Elements" was most in vogue, it instead became one of the periods when the Wizard Civilization discovered new Elements and new Laws at the fastest pace.
Many perfect Laws that geniuses bled themselves dry to "Fabricate" were ultimately proven to be some obscure, marginal yet genuinely existing rules.
When such a result occurred, it was undoubtedly a massive blow to those Genius Wizards who had spent vast resources and held themselves in the highest esteem.
Because this was tantamount to declaring that all their "creation" and "design" was nothing more than a stroke of good luck in "discovery."
For people like them, who pursue the pinnacle of knowledge and truth, this kind of "making wedding clothes for someone else" is far harder to accept than simple failure.
After another round of elimination, the extremely few remaining Lucky Ones—or rather, the wise who managed to grasp that subtle balance—finally succeeded in "Fabricating" a Law of their own and advanced thanks to it.
Then the third problem followed right on its heels: the individual combat power of Fictional Laws is generally weak.
According to statistical data, at any Level, Wizards who master Fictional Laws usually have individual combat power that only just reaches the average line for that Level.
Sounds acceptable?
But the problem is, any Wizard who can pass the first two cruel filters and ultimately master a Fictional Law is without exception a genius among geniuses, a freak among freaks.
For them, "reaching the average line" is itself a failure!
They ought to vastly surpass their peers.
There are many reasons why their individual combat power is not strong.
For example, each person’s Fabricated Law is unique, with no predecessors’ experience to draw on. Every path has to be blazed by themselves, and the cost of trial and error is extremely high.
At the same time, because a Fictional Law must, to some extent, conform to certain underlying rules of the world or it will not be recognized by the Wizard System, it cannot actually achieve the originally envisioned "do as one pleases," "upend convention" kind of omnipotent effect, and is subject to many restrictions.
Of course, Fictional Laws are not entirely without merit.
Their greatest advantage is that they can generate "Imaginary Elements."
These theoretically nonexistent things can be conjured out of thin air by Wizards who have mastered the corresponding Fictional Law.
And depending on the depth and perspective of the creator’s understanding of their own Law at the time, the Imaginary Elements produced can possess various bizarre properties or effects that conventional Elements find hard to replicate.
In simple terms, their combat power may fall short, but when it comes to "producing special materials" and "making money," they’re quite something.
The Imaginary Elements they create are often rare Catalysts or core materials for certain high‑end Alchemy or special Witchcraft Artifact production.
But that’s about it.
For those geniuses capable of mastering Fictional Laws, "making money" is really not difficult; they have far too many ways to acquire resources.
To pay such a high threshold and price only to exchange it for the role of a "high‑grade material supplier" is, in the eyes of most top Wizards, undeniably a choice with dreadful cost‑performance.
Precisely because of this, when Jeming personally admitted that his Law was related to "Imaginary Elements," it caused such a wave of astonishment and puzzlement.
In everyone’s eyes, with the potential and intellect Jeming had displayed, choosing any bright, promising existing Law path would have given him an unlimited future. Why take this seemingly arduous and "dimly lit" detour?
But for Jeming, using the veneer of "Fictional Law" and "Imaginary Elements" was precisely the perfect way to whitewash and legitimize his true foundation—"Spiritual Qi."
At the very least, when abnormalities in his Purgatory Sulfur Plane are noticed in the future, they will not trigger excessive panic or investigation, and will merely be regarded as some kind of special "Imaginary Element" environment.
While these thoughts were running through his mind, the Nolun Wizard, who had been seated at the chief position all along, stood up with a cheerful smile.
As soon as he moved, the entire hall fell instantly silent, all the hushed whispers cutting off at once.
The Nolun Wizard walked slowly over to Jeming. Those eyes of his, which seemed to contain endless wisdom, carefully examined him for a moment, and a satisfied expression appeared on his face.
"Well done, little one." The Nolun Wizard’s voice was gentle yet full of strength. "You have ideas, and you have potential. Since you are the one who prevailed, then this reward is yours."
As he spoke, he stretched out his hand and passed that seemingly simple, yet second‑Life‑granting "Death Replacement Doll" into Jeming’s hands.
Jeming took a deep breath, suppressed the excitement in his heart, and respectfully received it with both hands. "Thank you, Lord Nolun!"
