When the white light of the teleportation array faded, Lynn was already standing in the familiar teleportation area of Bone Spire.
The apprentice on duty jerked his head up at the sound. Once he saw who had arrived, he hurriedly rose and bowed.
"Good day, my lord."
Lynn nodded and walked straight out of the teleportation hall.
Along the way, every apprentice and low-ranked Wizard he encountered stepped aside and lowered their heads in salute.
A third-circle Wizard was already at the level of a principal mentor in any branch, more powerful than the mentors of many apprentices. Naturally, they had to show proper deference.
But Lynn paid them no attention. He was sensing the thin layer of golden mist within his body.
Because Lynn had not accepted it, that power of faith had never found an "anchor" and had been wandering wildly through his body.
Now, it resembled countless fine threads coiling around the surface of his soul.
They were light and faint, but undeniably present.
He could sense the source of every thread—some Goblin praying, some believer chanting the name of the "Supreme God Enzoth," some despairing soul crying out to him for help.
But their numbers were no longer increasing.
The distance was too great. The Goblin World and Wizard World were separated by endless void, and that power of faith could not yet cross such an immense distance.
What remained on him now was merely the residue accumulated earlier.
Lynn withdrew his attention and quickened his pace back to his laboratory.
The laboratory door closed behind him. Standing in the center of the room, Lynn looked around. Everything was much the same as when he had left.
He sat at the desk, closed his eyes, and examined the golden threads within his body.
Power of faith.