Saint-level beings in the Higher Planes might be little more than food for gods or ingredients for making Soul Golden Beads. But in the Material Plane, every one of them was an extraordinary talent. Sean was only at level eight, and even if he reached the peak of level nine, he'd still have almost no chance of surviving an encounter with the weakest Saint-level being.
Fortunately, the gap wasn't as vast as the one between Saint-level beings and gods. In the original story, when Linley had transformed and reached level nine, he fought a Saint-level expert from the Holy See who had comprehended Mysteries. Though he hadn't managed to defeat someone of a higher level, he'd still been able to put up some resistance.
Sean was still only level eight, but his overall strength was barely at level nine. He was still no match for Linley when Linley had fought the Holy See's Saint-level expert, though. It all depended on how strong this Saint-level being was.
"You're Sean, right? And you must be Leilia?" the Saint-level expert said with a faint smile, hovering in the air.
"Yes." Neither Sean nor Leilia denied it. The biggest problem with being famous was that your enemies knew who you were, too. There was no way to keep their faces secret. Besides, the Radiant Church had been at the height of its power just a few years ago. Who could have expected things to change so much in such a short time? Back then, there'd been no need for absolute secrecy.
"You two are both considered geniuses on the Zhongyuan Continent. I won't make things difficult for you." The Saint-level expert floated down in front of Sean and Leilia. Suddenly, his brow furrowed, and two beams of black light shot from his forehead toward them like lightning.
The black beams were so fast that Sean could barely follow them with his eyes. He watched as one pierced his head and, deep within his soul, a strand of black thread shot toward it.
Just then, the Coiling Dragon Ring on Sean's hand flashed with Azure Light. A terrifying force of soul power surged from his finger to his brain, and the black thread was instantly annihilated. Then the ring's power receded.
"Is this soul control?" Sean wasn't versed in death magic, but he knew that the only Saint Magus who could control someone at level eight was one who practiced death magic. Of all the Laws, the Laws of Death excelled most at controlling souls. In the original story, when the gods were on the Yulan Plane, the Grand Wizard could control Saint-level beings. So back when he was only Saint-level, he could probably control people of even lower levels.
"Hahaha! I've just gained two new puppets, both geniuses!" the Death Saint Magus laughed.
"Congratulations on gaining two more puppets, Lord Cyrus," several men in black beside him said ingratiatingly. Clearly, this wasn't the first time they'd seen their Death Saint Magus do this.
"What a shame. Once they're under soul control, their talents are bound to be diminished." Cyrus, the Death Saint Magus, sneered. "Still, ordering them to return and slaughter the people of the Radiant Church—even their own families—would be quite amusing."
"Elder, why don't we attack Shengyue City through this tunnel?" one of his men suggested.
"Are you an idiot? Even if Shengyue City is weak right now, are we really going to march in there with just a few of us and get ourselves killed?" Cyrus snapped.
"Yes, yes." The man who'd been scolded immediately backed away, afraid to say another word. But he was resentful inside. Cyrus wasn't especially talented; he'd just gotten lucky. He'd only just broken through to Saint-level, and already he was ordering them around as if he owned them.
"Hm? Spatial Rings?" Cyrus suddenly noticed the rings on Sean and Leilia's hands. His eyes lit up. "Take the owner binding off your Spatial Rings."
"Yes." As soon as Leilia replied, he removed the binding from his ring and tossed it aside.
Sean saw that he had no choice but to do the same. Apparently, this Death Saint Magus wasn't particularly skilled at soul control. He hadn't even realized Sean wasn't under his control. But that made sense. He'd only just reached Saint-level, and he probably used the Laws of Death blindly, without any real mastery. The Death Sovereign had likely given him the ability so he could spread the faith and gain the Power of Faith.
Suddenly, Leilia, who had approached Cyrus, produced a dagger and lunged at him—the Death Saint Magus who had been issuing orders.
"You—" Cyrus was taken aback, but he wasn't worried.
He was a Saint-level mage, and though he'd only just advanced, being ambushed at close range by a level-eight warrior might be troublesome, but it wouldn't actually hurt him. Even the simplest magical defense would be more than a level-eight warrior could break. A level-nine warrior, though, would be a much bigger threat.
The real reason he'd hurried to Shengyue City was to find an opportunity to acquire a Saint-level warrior's corpse and refine it into a puppet with death magic. That would make up for his weak body.
A wet sound rang out as the blade pierced flesh. Leilia's dagger passed cleanly through the Death Saint Magus's left hand, cutting it off.
"A divine weapon!" the Death Saint Magus cried in shock and hastily leaped back. As a Saint-level being, even if speed wasn't his strong suit, he was far faster than a level-eight warrior. Once he'd put some distance between them, he waved out a cloud of black mist, striking Leilia, who still held the dagger. The dagger was a divine weapon made for attacking, so it offered little defense. Leilia was knocked flying with a single blow. He fell to the ground and spat out blood.
"Hahaha! You inhuman freak, how'd you like my dagger?" Leilia seemed to know he couldn't escape, so he laughed in defiance.
"You actually have a divine weapon? You must have a good relationship with those gods from the Radiant Church. But how did you manage to retain your own consciousness?" Cyrus didn't seem to mind the insult. Instead, he asked a question.
A level-eight warrior with a divine weapon might not be able to unleash much of its power, but his attacks could still surpass those of a level-nine warrior. At close range, Cyrus had been wounded. Still, gaining another divine weapon was worth it.
"I'll never tell you, even if I die," Leilia said with a cold laugh.
"Hmph. Fine. Once you're dead, the divine weapon will be mine." Cyrus glanced at his severed left hand. Once it was no longer attached to his body, it quickly withered.
He'd only recently become a Saint Magus, and death magic was extremely damaging to the body. His physique was even weaker than that of other Saint Magi. Under normal circumstances, he'd need some time to recover. If the Darkness Church weren't preparing to attack the Radiant Church, he wouldn't have rushed out.
Still, although his hand had been severed, he could get it restored by finding a Saint Magus skilled in healing magic from the Water Laws. There were plenty of experts like that in the Water God Sect. He'd just have to pay a hefty price.
"But you won't die so easily. I'll have your good brother kill you with his own hands." Cyrus's voice turned colder. Then he ordered Sean, "You, come over here and kill him."
Leilia froze and looked at Sean, who had been standing off to the side. His heart suddenly sank. There was probably no escaping now. He was ready to die, but dying at his brother's hands—if Sean ever regained his consciousness, how much pain would that cause him?
He'd been badly injured and couldn't even get up, let alone fight back. His father had given him a divine weapon and a few treasures to protect himself, but he was only level eight. Against a Saint-level enemy, he was simply too weak.
"Kill him slowly. Cut his flesh off piece by piece," Cyrus ordered viciously.
"Yes." Sean walked toward Leilia. Suddenly, a purple long sword appeared in his hand. He spun around in a flash and thrust it straight into Cyrus's head with all his strength.
Before you continue