The Mage-Eye King gazed steadily at Zhang Yuanqing, meeting the "light" and pressure of the Sun Sovereign. "Fear has come to see me," he said. Zhang Yuanqing nodded. "I knew it! Under the current circumstances, both the Lawful and Chaotic factions have suffered severe setbacks at the half-divine level. Since your ascension to the ninth rank, your Enchanting Mage-Eye has grown stronger, and with the favorable opportunities granted by the Commander of the Army, Chi You, you're now capable of holding a half-divine being at bay for an extended period. "Fear will surely find a way to bring you back to the Chaotic ranks." "I'm genuinely excited," the Mage-Eye said, his eyes and expression full of the earnestness one sees in a young person pursuing a dream. "I know," Zhang Yuanqing replied, equally serious. The Mage-Eye King shifted his gaze from Zhang's face to the blue sky, pausing for about three to five seconds in silence, then spoke softly, "You may not know, but I was actually raised in an orphanage—I was born a forgotten infant." Zhang Yuanqing paused for a few seconds: "In the mural pavilion of Shu Mountain's Nan Yuan, that couple—were they..." At first, he had thought the magical king had grown up in the orphanage and thus was so devoted to the children there. But when he saw the parents of the magical eye in the murals, he began to believe that the magical eye's fondness for the orphanage children stemmed from the idea that they were the weakest and most pure—thus, the most beloved. Unexpectedly, after all this winding around, he returned to his original assumption. "They are my adoptive parents," said the magical eye king, pulling a wild grass from the crack in the corridor and holding it between his teeth, gazing at the blue sky, letting his emotions settle, his tone becoming hazy. "Since I became conscious, I've lived in the orphanage. The headmistress is a woman in her forties, divorced, who manages fifty-some children with two assistants—she is, by far, the most remarkable person I've ever known." Most remarkable? Zhang Yuanqing was momentarily stunned, then a thought formed in his mind. Indeed, the Mago-eyes King smiled: "Orphanages back then were nothing like they are today. Resources were scarce, and achieving basic food security was itself a challenge. The social systems were incomplete and lacked oversight. The only requirement for orphanages was simply that the children survive. "The directors and two staff members often treated the children poorly. With only three of them responsible for fifty-some children, the most effective approach was to 'train' them—first, crying was not acceptable. Children were expected not to cry during the day or at night. Any child who violated these rules faced corporal punishment and scolding; if one beating wasn't enough, they'd receive a second, and sometimes even a third, until they learned to comply. I often heard the children's piercing cries and wails at night. "By the time I was four, I no longer needed to wear diapers. Unless they were infants who couldn't care for themselves, all children who could walk were expected to wash their own clothes and pants. Otherwise, they would be left freezing. "He pointed to the white frost gathered in the corner of the playground: 'In such weather, I spent a whole day bare-bottomed, frozen. That coldness and helplessness remain vivid to this day. From birth, I've never known a single moment of warmth. My deepest memories are of scolding and fear.' Having endured some abuse, it left an indelible shadow in his childhood, didn't it?" Zhang Yuanqing nodded, thinking to himself, "Should I help you heal that?" "Back then, surviving was already a blessing—no one ever cared about psychological well-being. Later, you were adopted, weren't you?" Zhang Yuanqing asked. The Mage-Eyed King nodded: "When I was six, a couple without children adopted me. They treated me very well—buying me new clothes, sending me to school. My mother, noticing that I was too thin and didn't get enough nourishment, deliberately arranged for me to have milk every morning. One glass of milk each day, served in a glass bottle." Dad always asks me when I come home from school: "Have you been bullied by your classmates? If so, you must tell him—Dad will stand up for you." "Stand up for me... Huh. I've lived in the orphanage for so many years, and never once has anyone stood up for me. Dad is from the countryside, with many rural friends. Every weekend, he brings me wild game from the countryside to help strengthen my health. "I lived with them for three years—those were the happiest days of my life. For the first time, I truly felt the beauty of life and the goodness of human nature. I always thought life would continue like that, until one day…" The Eye of the King suddenly paused, and didn't say anything more. What came after didn't need to be recounted—the murals at Shu Shan Nan Yuan had already told Zhang Yuanqing everything. He gazed at the azure sky, his eyes filled with sorrow, pain, and resentment, and murmured softly: "I have lost everything once again. I left that home—never returned to the orphanage, never accepted adoption. I wandered for seven years, until I finally obtained my character card. Since then, my life has revolved around a single purpose: to cleanse this corrupt world. 'I will make those who dominate the weak pay for their arrogance, punish those who embezzle and abuse power, and bring down the very forces of authority.' Zhang Yuanqing listened silently, recalling the murals in the southern courtyard of Shu Mountain. A lone pavilion collapsed, burying a young couple; a little boy turned away, his silhouette solitary... In truth, from that very day, the boy had already passed away. What remained was the solitary avenger, the King of the Magician's Eyes. After a long silence, Zhang Yuanqing slowly said: "Thank you for sharing your story. I will convey your choice to the Five Elements Alliance. The next time we meet, we shall be enemies for life." He left behind the black long blade wrapped in flames, transforming into golden light and vanishing. The Magi-Emperor sat motionless in the corridor, like a statue. Upon returning to Songhai, Zhang Yuanqing retrieved the eight-armed mirror, which had been restored long ago, and summoned a duplicate. He handed the mirror to the duplicate and said, "Go do your own thing!" The duplicate accepted the mirror and sighed, "I understand." Then, he dissolved into starlight. Zhang Yuanqing passed through the barrier of the real world and entered the celestial realm, where the river of stars flowed. His gaze turned into golden beams, sweeping across the spiritual world. Soon, he found the copy that had previously been concealed by Ling Tu—hidden within the records of merit. Before the final battle, he needed to absorb and fully master the Merit Scroll, a cause-based item. It might not prove particularly useful, as its ability appears to summon pursuit of low-merit spiritual travelers, lacking strong offensive power. Yet, after all, it is a cause-based item—perhaps "pursuit" is merely one of its abilities. Zhang Yuanqing took a single step and stepped into the realm of the quest. This was a realm untouched by order—without clear concepts of up, down, east, or west. At the heart of the chaos, a divine artifact floated silently, shimmering with a brilliant golden hue. It was roughly thirty meters long and six meters wide, its surface radiating a soft, luminous glow, etched with countless small characters—each one a spiritual realm ID. On its reverse side, ten golden sunbirds were carved, their wings spread wide, adorned with layered cloud patterns. A profound, majestic, and dignified aura surged forth, instantly familiar and intimate to Zhang Yuanqing—so much so that it felt like a weapon he had wielded for years, one now deeply woven into his very blood. Golden filaments of energy extended from the metallic shafts at either end of the merit scroll, reaching deep into the chaos, as if connecting to some unseen entity. By instinct, golden suns bloomed behind Zhang Yuanqing’s mind, forming a radiant solar disc, from which countless golden sunbirds burst forth, their flames blazing. Nine golden sun birds circled the merit scroll for a moment, then two of them grasped the corners, one held the top edge and strained its wings. Gradually, the merit scroll emerged from the chaos, and the golden filaments connecting its four corners to the chaos one by one snapped. "Whoa!" As the scroll was fully drawn out, it ignited with golden flames, merging completely with the sun birds. Zhang Yuanqing, with a sudden sense of clarity, raised his hand, and the massive scroll shrank on its own, reducing to the size of a tablet, resting calmly in his palm. After a few seconds of stillness, no item attributes appeared, yet a stream of "knowledge" flowed directly into Zhang Yuanqing's mind, allowing him naturally to master the scroll's information and functions. As a causality-based artifact of the Sun Domain, the merit scroll symbolizes justice and order, with its fundamental function being to record "merit." A person's merit may remain hidden from the general public, but it cannot be concealed from the merit scroll—every act of wrongdoing will be known, both by heaven and earth. This very concept of "heaven and earth knowing" refers precisely to the merit scroll. The second function is "grace." The Merit Scroll bestows certain graces upon the top ten meritorious individuals, endowing them with a luminous aura that protects them from all forms of malice and evil—this was known in ancient times as "saintly attainment" or "merit-based sainthood." However, this grace requires the power of the Sun's primordial essence to activate. After the ten sun deities were sealed beneath the Bronze Divine Tree by the Empress Wohuang, the Merit Scroll, much like an electronic device without power, lost its source of energy and thus this function became dormant. The third function is "retribution." For those who harm those blessed with merit, or for malevolent demons and outsiders whose merit levels are insufficient, the Merit Scroll inflicts penalties. These penalties vary randomly—sometimes manifesting as lightning strikes, sometimes causing mental confusion, sometimes bringing calamities, sometimes triggering the Five Deteriorations of the Celestial Realm, or even setting the divine beings ablaze with heavenly fire. These penalties are rooted in cause and effect and thus cannot be entirely avoided, though they can be resisted. Nevertheless, given the Merit Scroll's status, few forces in the world are capable of As for those who harm the Lord of the Sun or the Master of the Merit Scroll, a "retribution" will inevitably be triggered. Holding the Merit Scroll, Zhang Yuanqing's initially subdued emotions instantly surged. "With this, I can effectively prevent the Evil Faction from enjoying their 'celebration' in the real world. I can send retribution to all individuals with merit scores below 60—eliminating the lower-tier spiritual realm practitioners of the Evil Faction will be no problem at all." Zhang Yuanqing was overjoyed. By controlling the Merit Scroll, Zhang Yuanqing wields the very sword hanging over the heads of the spiritual realm practitioners—anyone whose moral standing falls short can be formally designated and sealed. This is one of the administrator's core privileges! Random retributions will further enrich his arsenal, making the semi-divine Evil figures such as the Lord of the Stars and the Lord of the Stars constantly on the defensive. While they may rely on their own resilience to endure the retribution's effects, the varied forms of retribution—each with distinct penalties—will prove far more effective than mere burns from the Sun God's power. ... The Divine War Campaign. A black circular moon rests above his head, his left eye shimmering with brilliant stars, while his right eye gazes into a deep, profound starry depth. The Stellar Lord opens his inventory and retrieves a flesh-bodied chamber, composed of living tissue with red blood vessels coursing through it. Then, he turns to the Shro, who stands three meters tall with eight arms and resembles a towering black iron monolith. The Shro remains silent, withdrawing a wooden box carved with the face of a yaksha demon, opening it, and pouring out a young, handsome white man—son of McLeod, the owner of the Wine God Club. Next, the Shro produces a dagger of black and crimson hue and throws it to the Stellar Lord. The dagger contains the spiritually rich blood of McLeod. Though the evil demigods do not know that the Stellar Lord is the most disorganized of the lawful ones, they are well aware that the campaign of the Gods' War was a premeditated move by the evil faction. Therefore, before the magical lineage opens the Sun's campaign, they had already prepared heirs and blood supplies. As long as a demigod dies, they can revive them using the Shro's control over the maternal goddess's womb. The Lord of the Stars lamented, "The half-divine artifacts of the Lord of the Ten Thousand Demons are in the hands of the Void." The Shura spoke calmly, "Then he has lost the right to revive! Revive the Wine God—that young man will arrive at any moment.