The light piercing the clouds trembled slightly.
In both appearance and essence, that light seemed sacred and warm, yet Bishop felt as though he stood amid ice and snow.
It was as if what descended from the sky was not light, but drifting snowflakes.
At that moment, Bishop was like someone stranded on a mountain after an avalanche, surrounded by immense pressure that sought to crush and tear apart his withered limbs.
Every beam of light falling on him heralded bone-chilling death.
The power of a Demon God, usually all-conquering, was now like a traveler sinking into a swamp. It had not lost its effect; rather, the struggle itself could not stir any ripples in its surroundings.
"How is that possible? Even if you have some alternative technique for sealing yourself, you couldn't display power on this level within the world!"
Bishop's breath caught, and profound astonishment appeared in his eyes.
This was not a gap in technique or realm, but sheer overwhelming power.
Yet that was precisely what made it wrong.
The power of a Demon God was out of proportion to the world.
The reason Bishop could now exist safely within the world was that he had used a technique called Infinite Division on himself.
It achieved deliberate weakening by likewise dividing his constitution infinitely.
It was a Magic Formula that deceived the world by taking an existence the world could barely accommodate as its smallest unit, then stacking those units endlessly.
To use an analogy, the Demon Gods had distorted their existence into a ray of light equivalent to the universe, then used all their remaining infinity to construct infinite mirrors.
By keeping that beam of light in a cycle of endless reflections between mirrors, they avoided returning to their original forms, which could destroy the world