The Arcane Secrets of the Divine

The surrounding crowd, having witnessed Fanmuir take on three True Gods and emerge victorious, secretly rejoiced in seeing Mihael and his companions humiliated. However, they also knew that Fanmuir had just made three extremely dangerous enemies in the Pantheon Domain. His doom was almost certain. No one dared to approach him, fearing they would be implicated. Only a few kind-hearted individuals, unwilling to see him perish, stepped forward and advised:

"Young man, you'd best leave the Pantheon Domain immediately!"

Fanmuir frowned. "Why? You all saw—they were the ones who struck first! Does the Pantheon truly allow such arrogant thugs to do as they please?"

A warrior clad in a golden toga, his silver hair framing a face that seemed untouched by age, sighed and asked, "Young man, do you even know who those three are?"

Fanmuir shook his head. "No idea."

The elder continued, "Then do you know why, despite only being True Gods, they were able to fly freely in the Pantheon Domain?"

Again, Fanmuir shook his head. "I don't know."

"And do you wonder why, despite such a commotion, not a single disciple of the Pantheon Temple has shown up?"

Vanmuir's confusion deepened. "Why?"

The elder sighed. "Because they are children of the Pantheon Temple. The one in the seven-colored toga? He is none other than Mihael, the only son of the Pantheon Temple's current master, Papageorgiou Vega, and the Greek goddess known as the Hundred Blossoms Saintess. Now do you understand?"

Having said this, the blue-robed elder shook his head and walked away.

The crowd exchanged glances, their expressions filled with pity. No one knew who Fanmuir was, but his anonymity made it clear—he was from an insignificant sect, someone who had no chance of contending against the mighty Pantheon Temple. And Mihael's mother, the Hundred Blossoms Saintess, was infamous for her blind devotion to her son. If she wanted Fanmuir dead, it would be as effortless as crushing an ant.

Vanmuir, of course, had heard of Papageorgiou Vega and the Hundred Blossoms Saintess—these two had been legendary figures for over a thousand years.

He just never expected that beings of such godlike stature would produce a son like Mihael. The moment he heard the elder's words, a sense of powerlessness washed over him. Mihael's departing threat echoed in his mind, and for the first time, he regretted his actions.

Papageorgiou Vega and the Hundred Blossoms Saintess had, on a whim, decided to have a son. However, they failed to anticipate that their beloved child would grow up into an arrogant, reckless troublemaker, indulging in nothing but pleasure. Despite his lack of discipline, neither parent could bear to punish him. Instead, their endless doting only further fueled his lawlessness. Mihael did as he pleased on Mount Olympus, and those who frequented the Pantheon Temple knew better than to cross him, choosing to steer clear rather than confront him.

Unfortunately, Vanmuir—unaware of this unspoken rule—had unwittingly become the latest victim of Mihael's unchecked arrogance. Fate had dealt him a cruel hand. He had unknowingly offended the heir of the Pantheon Temple.

Although Michael had already reached the mid-level True God realm, Papageorgio Vega and the Hundred Flowers Saintess still feared that their son would suffer once they ascended. Thus, they stubbornly remained in the Pantheon, delaying their departure to the Divine Realm.

Ke'er Seifra had finally recovered from the chaos earlier. Her gaze toward Fan Muer was filled with gratitude. However, upon hearing of the extraordinary background of the three men from before, she could not help but feel deeply worried. With concern in her voice, she urged, "You should leave quickly. My mother told me that the Pantheon is incredibly powerful."

Fan Muer looked at Ke'er Seifra's worried expression, forcing a smile as he reassured her, "It's fine. I don't believe the Pantheon would ignore right and wrong and allow unchecked tyranny." Despite his words, he could not shake the dull ache in his head.

It seemed that the world of cultivation was no different from the mortal world—strength alone determined respect.

"You should go to the 'Mysteries of the Gods' by yourself." Though Fan Muer upheld the principle of never provoking others unless provoked first—and retaliating when necessary—he knew that the Pantheon was the strongest force in the cultivation world. He feared dragging Ke'er Seifra into trouble and thought it best for her to distance herself from him.

Unicorns, by nature, were proud and noble creatures. Ke'er Seifra, sharp and perceptive, immediately understood Fan Muer's intentions. A mix of gratitude, admiration, and concern surged within her. Moments ago, he had shielded her behind him without hesitation—an act of kindness that she, as a unicorn, would never forget. Having just begun to explore the world, the young female unicorn had already made up her mind—she would stay by Fan Muer's side no matter what.

Since Ke'er Seifra insisted on accompanying him to the "Mysteries of the Gods," Fan Muer let her be.

After their earlier ordeal, the bond between them had grown significantly. In truth, Ke'er Seifra, who had taken human form, was younger than Fan Muer, and she affectionately called him "Brother Fan Muer" again and again. Though being addressed as "big brother" by a beautiful girl was nothing to brag about, having such a lively and cheerful companion still brought him joy.

Before long, the towering mountains and snow-covered peaks gave way to a strikingly different sight. Floating in the sky ahead were several divine mountains, shimmering with spiritual radiance and enveloped in mist. Nestled among them, a grand and imposing palace loomed in the distance. Suspended above it, three golden characters gleamed brilliantly under the sunlight—Pantheon.

"The Pantheon truly lives up to its name," Fan Muer mused in admiration.

Ke'er Seifra, having never seen such a magnificent and sacred sight, was utterly awestruck. Her eyes widened in astonishment, and her small cherry lips parted slightly in amazement.

Beneath the divine mountains stretched a vast plain, glimmering with golden light and radiating a dazzling brilliance. The place bustled with people, resembling a thriving mortal marketplace.

"Mysteries of the Gods!"

Both spoke in unison, exchanging a knowing smile before accelerating their flight. In an instant, they arrived at the spacious plain beneath the divine mountains.

A warm breeze greeted them, and to their surprise, this place was entirely different from the outside world. Here, it was as warm as spring; the ground was lush with verdant grass, brimming with vibrant life.

Massive stone tables were set up across the area, displaying an array of treasures—mystical artifacts glowed with divine light, while enchanted weapons radiated dazzling brilliance. The marketplace buzzed with people, their shouts and calls rising one after another like a lively bazaar. Small groups gathered around stalls, eagerly discussing the trade of divine artifacts, haggling and bargaining with great enthusiasm.

This was the famed Mysteries of the Gods—a sacred marketplace for trading divine medicines and enchanted treasures.

Which girl isn't a shopaholic? Kér Seffra was no exception. The dazzling array of magical artifacts and treasures, the shimmering, jewel-like cultivation accessories—everywhere she turned, there was something exquisite. Her eyes sparkled with excitement, her heart racing at the sheer spectacle before her.

Yet, despite the allure of these treasures, Kér Seffra's thoughts remained fixed on her gravely injured mother. She cast only a cursory glance at the dazzling artifacts and accessories before focusing her search on divine medicines.

This was Fanmuir's first time at the "Mysteries of the Gods," and he had come mainly to familiarize himself with the place. Thus, he patiently followed behind Kér Seffra, who was browsing attentively, keeping a watchful eye on her to prevent any mishaps.

By now, Fanmuir understood that the divine medicine Kér Seffra sought was called the Hundred Tribulations Asclepias. For a beast of divine lineage to ascend to the celestial realm was a trial far harsher than that faced by humans. Part of the difficulty lay in the fact that cultivators monopolized the most spiritually rich mountains and sacred lands, leaving little space for divine beasts to thrive. Worse still, many so-called righteous cultivators hunted them down under the banner of "purging evil and upholding the way." Beyond these external hardships, divine beasts also suffered innate limitations. Unlike humans, they had to endure tribulations of far greater number and intensity to reach divinity.

Take Kér Seffra, for example. Though she had already reached the status of a Seven-Colored Unicorn, the final step to becoming a Ten-Colored Unicorn remained an almost insurmountable chasm. The difference of just three colors might seem trivial, yet it was precisely this final threshold that left countless members of the unicorn race stranded at the precipice, unable to advance. Since the unicorn lineage first appeared in the world, fewer than a dozen had ever attained the coveted Ten-Colored form, ascending as Western divine omens—the Celestial Unicorns. The final three colors were a near-impossible hurdle, each step forward requiring the endurance of tenfold tribulations.

Kér Seffra's mother, Nephili Seffra, had barely reached the level of an Eight-Colored Unicorn, yet she was already beset with perilous setbacks in her cultivation. Heart demons plagued her endlessly, and not long ago, she had suffered a grievous injury. Her blood essence had been thrown into turmoil, leaving her unable to assume her human form. Now, she lay incapacitated within her cavern sanctuary, unable to move.

Kér Seffra had learned from the elders of her clan that human alchemists possessed the Hundred Tribulations Asclepias, a rare divine medicine that could help restore Nephili Seffra's vitality. Ignoring the opposition of her kin, she had resolutely set out on her own to seek out the Mysteries of the Gods. Perhaps the heavens themselves had taken pity on her filial devotion, for she had miraculously arrived at her destination unharmed. After all, any divine beast daring to step into the human realm without possessing the strength of a true deity was usually courting disaster. Those who roamed freely in the mortal world were all beings of formidable divine power.

For one as young as Kér Seffra, who had only reached the level of a Warlord-tier combatant and lacked any real battle experience, venturing alone into the human world was an exceedingly rare and dangerous act. Had she encountered one of the many unscrupulous cultivators who saw divine beasts as nothing more than valuable trophies, the consequences would have been unimaginable.

Several of the supreme factions, including the Pantheon, had jointly declared that no violence or bloodshed was permitted within its bounds. As a result, in the Pantheon, personal safety was guaranteed to all.

As Fanmuir and Ke'er Sephora wandered through, they encountered no trouble from Mihail and his companions, allowing them to relax and immerse themselves in exploring the wonders of "Mysteries of the Divine."

Before long, they arrived at an area densely populated with alchemists. Rows of ornate boxes filled with divine medicines adorned the tables, the air rich with the fragrant essence of spiritual elixirs, invigorating the mind and soul.

Fanmuir, brimming with curiosity, opened several of the medicine boxes, only to find that while he could refine such elixirs himself and even possessed them within his Bloodline Scepter's spatial storage, the pills before him far surpassed his own in shape, color, and spiritual essence.

"Come, take a look! I've got every kind of divine pill here—body-tempering elixirs, Celestial Incense, Dragonflame Dew... and even Hundred Tribulations Milkweed!"

A sharp, nasal voice rang out from a distance.

The moment Ke'er Sephora heard mention of the Hundred Tribulations Milkweed, her eyes lit up with excitement. Without a second thought, she grabbed Fanmuir's hand and dashed toward the source of the call.

When they finally laid eyes on the alchemist hawking his wares, Fanmuir couldn't help but chuckle—sharp features, a cunning glint in his eyes, and an air of shrewd opportunism. The man was the very picture of a seasoned swindler.

As Ke'er Sephora and Fanmuir approached, the alchemist's eyes gleamed with interest—customers! But after a quick scan of the pair, his enthusiasm waned.

No one who set up shop in "Mysteries of the Divine" was an ordinary figure. Though the alchemist's demeanor exuded trickery, he was, in truth, a True God-level expert. A single glance was enough for him to assess Fanmuir as merely an esteemed Martial Lord and Ke'er Sephora as a mere War God-level warrior. Two insignificant juniors—what valuables could they possibly possess?

"What do you want?" he asked impatiently.

"I heard you have Hundred Tribulations Milkweed! I want it," Ke'er Sephora said, unable to conceal her urgency.

"Hundred Tribulations Milkweed?"

A War God-level little girl demanding such a priceless treasure? How laughable.

"I have it," the alchemist said flatly. "Four stalks of Millennium Penglai Divine Herb." His expression remained indifferent, as if he already knew these two youngsters could never afford such an exchange.

Ke'er Sephora was instantly stunned. The Millennium Penglai Divine Herb was a sacred rarity among unicorns. In fact, the entire unicorn race possessed only a single stalk.

For the sake of her mother's life, Ke'er Sephora had fought tooth and nail to gain her elders' approval to bring that sole herb to "Mysteries of the Divine" in exchange for the Hundred Tribulations Milkweed.

Yet now, she realized—one stalk was far from enough.

"Hahaha! You think a single Millennium Penglai Herb can get you my Hundred Tribulations Milkweed? Do you even know where you are? You ignorant little pauper!" Just as expected, these two kids had nothing worthwhile in their pockets. The alchemist merchant's expression turned even more disdainful, and he didn't hesitate to sneer with sharp sarcasm.

But Ker Seifra could not afford to give up. Her mother's condition left her no choice. Enduring the humiliation, eyes brimming with tears, she was just about to kneel and beg when a firm, steady hand grasped her arm.

The world of cultivation had no place for sympathy, no room for kindness. This alchemist merchant was merely teaching them a cruel truth—this is reality.

"Only four Millennium Penglai Herbs?" Fanmuir's gaze turned icy as he locked eyes with the alchemist merchant. The sheer greed and pettiness of this man were disgusting, and his voice carried the same cold contempt.

A mere Martial Lord dared to speak to him in such an insolent, arrogant tone? The alchemist merchant felt deeply insulted. His face twisted in anger as he scoffed, "Hmph! That's right—four Millennium Penglai Herbs. Do you have them? But since I'm feeling generous today, I'll cut you a deal. Just bring me two, and the Hundred Tribulations Milkweed is yours."

Tears welled up in Ker Seifra's eyes. She tugged lightly at Fanmuir's sleeve, silently pleading with him not to act recklessly. The alchemist merchant, convinced that these two had nothing more to offer, grew even more smug.

But Fanmuir was different. Rare medicinal herbs? He had plenty.

Reaching into the Bloodkin Spirit Staff's spatial dimension, he retrieved five Millennium Penglai Herbs and laid them before the alchemist merchant.

A stunned silence fell over the crowd. Even the alchemist merchant's face turned from red to pale. The Millennium Penglai Herb might not be the rarest treasure in the cultivation world, but it was far from common—let alone five of them.

And these weren't just any Millennium Penglai Herbs. Each one was of the finest quality, with some already well over two or three thousand years old. The alchemist merchant immediately realized that Fanmuir was no ordinary customer—he was someone worth respecting.

"If I recall correctly, you just said that as long as I produce another Millennium Penglai Herb, I could take the Hundred Tribulations Milkweed. Isn't that right?" Fanmuir's tone was slow, deliberate.

Without waiting for a response, he swept four of the herbs back into his Bloodkin Spirit Staff's space and left behind only one—the smallest, dullest, lowest-quality herb of the bunch. Handing it over, he casually plucked the Hundred Tribulations Milkweed from the merchant's stall, took Ker Seifra by the hand, and walked away without so much as a backward glance.

The alchemist merchant was utterly devastated—he had once held four Millennium Penglai Herbs within his grasp, mere inches away. But alas! His own shortsightedness and misjudgment had cost him dearly. Regret gnawed at him like a relentless beast.

Yet, as he watched Fanmuir's figure disappear into the crowd, a sinister gleam flickered in his eyes. Hatred and greed surged within him, intertwining into a single, dangerous thought.

Meanwhile, Ker Seifra clutched the Hundred Tribulations Milkweed tightly as Fanmuir led her away from the alchemist's stall. She still couldn't believe what had just happened. Not only had this stranger spared her from humiliation, but he had also gifted her a Millennium Penglai Herb and helped her obtain the precious medicine she so desperately needed for her mother.

Now that the crisis had passed, her childish nature quickly resurfaced. She grabbed Fanmuir's hand, skipping and hopping excitedly as they wandered through the bustling marketplace.

Fanmuir had originally come here to gather information before deciding what to do with the Leviathan Sea Dragon's Essence Blood. But after witnessing firsthand the greed and corruption that ran rampant in the cultivation world—especially among alchemists—he dismissed the idea of entrusting such a priceless material to anyone for refinement. The thought of seeking help now seemed laughable.

With nothing urgent to attend to, he let Ker Seifra drag him through the market, indulging in her joy. Her eyes sparkled with wonder as she flitted from one stall to another, mesmerized by the dazzling display of enchanted artifacts and swords. Having never seen such treasures before, she eagerly examined each item, her excitement palpable.

Of course, she also understood that these artifacts were far beyond her means, so all she could do was admire them from a distance. Time and again, she lingered wistfully before walking away, reluctant yet resigned.

Fanmuir, on the other hand, saw these so-called treasures for what they were—mediocre at best. With his mastery as a Grandmaster Refiner, none of these crude artifacts were worthy of his attention. But seeing Ker Seifra's enthusiasm, he didn't have the heart to dampen her spirits.

Each time she left a stall with a reluctant glance over her shoulder, he merely shook his head in silent amusement. He said nothing, but a thought had already taken root in his mind—once they left Mysteries of the Divine, he would craft and gift her a true artifact, one worthy of her awe.