Chapter 78: What is Faith

Merlin also knew well the secret that the Leo family bore the bloodline of the War God. But then again, that was hardly unique—after all, the War God himself was infamous across the whole of Aize Continent for his fondness of sowing seeds wherever he went. His descendants were scattered everywhere, like wildflowers across a vast meadow.

The Leo family, however, stood out among them. Their name had long been etched into the annals of history, for they were the ones who had once expanded the frontiers of the Dawn Empire, crushing the other six mighty empires beneath their banners. They were the spearhead of conquest, the hammer of nations.

Though now a shadow of their former glory, none could forget the brilliance that once blazed in the Leo family’s veins. Their fall from power had not erased the memory of their triumphs.

The War God of Aize Continent was much like Zeus of Earth—unable to restrain his impulses, his lust carving countless legacies into the mortal world. Thus, his descendants were everywhere.

The Leo family’s inherited bloodline, however, carried something far rarer: the awakening of the War God’s eyes, eyes said to pierce through illusion, truth, and fate itself. And beyond them, there were other scattered descendants whose awakened bloodlines birthed legends.

Some inherited the War God’s arms—those mighty limbs capable of crushing a legendary dragon into pulp with sheer strength.

Some awakened the War God’s body—so indomitable that even the fearsome blast of a legendary magic cannon could not end their life. Such beings stood at the threshold of demigodhood, capable of rebirth from even a single drop of blood.

Others inherited the War God’s legs…

Tales of such bloodlines and their unfathomable gifts were too many to count. They became stories whispered by firelight, immortalized by bards, woven into poems and ballads that echoed across centuries.

And yet, despite the abundance of stories, Merlin himself had never seen a single living War God descendant outside his own family. In fact, since the Leo clan’s golden age centuries ago, those once-glorious figures had mysteriously vanished from the world stage, leaving only fading echoes of their legends.

“I can’t possibly be the War God’s son,” Merlin muttered firmly, his tone carrying a sharp edge of certainty. “Nor am I some so-called reincarnation. As you yourselves have said, the War God is still very much alive. As for being his child—absolutely impossible. I, Merlin, was born of my mother’s womb, and that’s that.”

There was no room for doubt. Not only was he certain of his origins, but how could he, of all people—a soul transplanted from another world—ever be the War God’s direct offspring?

Weber chewed thoughtfully on a pearl, the faint creak of it against his teeth audible before he drew on his straw, sipping his milk tea with infuriating calm. “That’s the strange part,” he mused, “You carry no trace of divine blessing, no god’s protection. In other words, you are no divine envoy. So how is it that you can gather faith’s power—and not lose it?”

Merlin frowned. “What do you mean? Old man, spell it out clearly.” There was a glimmer in his eyes. This power of faith… it might prove to be something far greater than he had first imagined.

Weber was not one to veil truths in riddles. He drained his cup, swapped it for a blueberry fruit tea, and stirred the straw with casual ease. “Faith is the nourishment of gods. Yet in truth, anyone can condense faith’s power—as long as there are those who believe in them.”

“Consider a noble who loves his people like his children, a wise and valorous king, or some figure whose deeds inspire awe across the continent. When their stories stir sincere reverence, admiration, or longing in others, faith’s power begins to take form.”

Merlin nodded slowly. “So what you’re saying is, as long as someone believes in you wholeheartedly—admires you, yearns for you—you can draw upon their faith?”

“Exactly,” Weber agreed, but his voice carried a weight of warning. “Yet faith is not so simple. For a devout believer, faith is absolute conviction—whether in a god, divine law, or sacred doctrine. Beyond religion, there is also faith in morality itself—the unwavering belief in what is right and wrong.”

“In the empire, true faith in the emperor is rare. Most of his subjects cling more to political ideals, to loyalty to policies or factions. That, too, is faith, but of a lesser shade.”

“And it is not only humans. Beastkin, elves, dwarves, all races hold fast to their traditions, their customs, their values. These, too, are strands of faith.”

He smiled faintly, pointing first to the heavens above, then to the earth below. “Faith surrounds us. Even in this Academy, there exists faith—in knowledge, in the arcane. Faith is everywhere. But to harness it, to bend it to one’s own use… that is another matter entirely.”

“Faith,” Weber declared, his tone turning solemn, “is the highest, purest of powers. It is the very bedrock of the world, the resonance between soul and origin.”

“Only gods can truly wield it in cultivation. A seventh-rank archmage may sense its touch, but that is all they can do—sense it. To actually command it requires divinity.”

He leaned forward slightly. “Demigods stand at the summit of the mortal world. To rise higher, they must cultivate with faith’s power. Thus, every famed demigod gathers followers, builds factions, or bends the knee to a greater god, earning faith by serving divine will.”

“To ascend into godhood, a demigod must gain a divinity shard, a godhead. This can be done in two ways: seizing the fallen god’s origin godhead, or else condensing a false godhead with vast faith. Should their soul touch the world’s laws directly—so long as no other god holds claim to that law—they may merge it into their godhead and rise as a true god.”

Merlin sat in stunned silence, his mind reeling. For the first time, he glimpsed the hidden rules that governed divinity itself. Suddenly, the purpose behind the Archmage Dean’s creation of the Arcane Academy became clear. It was all preparation—for godhood.

Knowledge such as this was reserved only for the uppermost tier of Aize’s elite, for demigods themselves. That Weber would so openly reveal it… well, that was because Merlin was too abnormal to ignore.

“Then why,” Merlin asked, brow furrowed, “do I carry the power of faith at all?”

Weber stroked his chin, his gaze thoughtful. “That is what puzzles me most. Faith’s power cannot be stored without divinity to anchor it. Not even a legendary mage, short of reaching demigodhood, can contain it. It should simply dissipate into the world, returning to the source. Only divine envoys are exceptions, for they are chosen as vessels by gods.”

Jones cut in, his voice sharp. “And you are neither demigod nor envoy. Yet you retain it. That makes you… an anomaly. A freak.”

Merlin bristled. His expression darkened. “Old man, that’s a bit much. What do you mean, anomaly? Freak? Watch your words.”

Jones only shrugged. “I’m speaking the truth. Something about you is different. Could it be the War God’s bloodline? Perhaps the spark of divine power awakened within you?” His gaze roved over Merlin’s body with unsettling scrutiny, sending shivers prickling down Merlin’s spine.

Merlin fell into thought. Faith’s power… the world’s origin, the cornerstone of existence. If he was connected to the world itself, then what exactly tied him to it?

His face paled as realization struck him like a thunderclap. He was tied to a world. But not this one.

Not Aize.

Earth.

He was a traveler between worlds, a soul that had crossed the boundary of reality itself. That very act had forged a bridge—a link between two separate worlds. Could this strange nature be why he could harbor faith’s power where others could not?

Yes… it made sense. His soul belonged not to this world, but to Earth. That alien origin set him apart.

But he dared not speak it aloud. If anyone learned of his truth, they might brand him an abomination, an invader, some otherworldly fiend. A heretic to be chained, burned, erased.

Better to remain silent. Better to guard the secret, no matter the cost.

Previous chapter | TOC | Next chapter