The Demon with Holy Radiance

He couldn’t run from this. He had to strengthen his connection with this Power of Rules to perceive it in greater detail. Even though it might reduce him to ash, leaving no trace behind, perhaps this was the price for comprehending the Power of Rules. Risk and opportunity went hand in hand.

Compared to others, Yang An had a unique advantage—one that might even be a prerequisite for comprehending the Power of Rules.

His understanding of Light Magic was simply unparalleled!

Whether it was the damage Light Magic could inflict, its area of illumination, the speed at which it could kill, or the amount of Mana it consumed, no one understood it better than him.

Light Magic existed in this world, so there must have been people who created these techniques. But surely, no one could have mastered as many of them as he had.

If mastering a single Light Magic technique meant one’s understanding of the Light Category was a ten, then Yang An’s understanding had already surpassed one hundred.

His current level of comprehension and his potential for growth were both far beyond anyone else’s. No one knew Light Magic better than he did.

But the process was agonizingly painful.

The sun in the sky drew steadily closer, growing larger as it descended, a sight visible to the naked eye.

The temperature on the ground became increasingly terrifying.

Everything, without exception, had begun to melt.

However, Yang An discovered something that set him apart.

He had unleashed all the Light Magic he’d mastered. The light emanating from his own body mingled with the terrifying sunlight, but it also mitigated most of the damage he would have otherwise suffered.

As a result, his body was melting much more slowly than everything else.

As his body melted, it was also rapidly regenerating. The spiritual agony now far outweighed the physical pain, like a saw being dragged back and forth across his very consciousness.

He had to focus his consciousness amidst this mental torment. He couldn’t afford to fail. Failure was not an option. He had to give it his all.

Comprehending the Rules was a profound state of being. Yang An began to mentally review every detail of the Light Magic he knew, continuing until his mind entered a tranquil, ethereal state.

This shift in his mindset soon separated him from the spiritual and physical agony. He no longer felt the pain; instead, his consciousness grew increasingly hazy.

Yet even in this haze, he was constantly gaining new insights. The entire Forbidden Land Core, bathed in light, fell utterly silent.

All of creation was perishing, while one man was being reborn...

At this very moment, outside the Forbidden Land Core, beside the dried-up Blood Lake, He stood waiting quietly, clad all in black.

He was like a motionless statue. It was as if time and space themselves were frozen around him, for not even a light breeze could stir the hem of his robes.

Then, in the very next moment, a violent fluctuation erupted from the bottomless, dark abyss beneath the dried-up Blood Lake.

A scorching aura, like a volcanic eruption, surged from the depths and shot straight to the heavens. The previously motionless He stirred at the same instant, transforming into a black shadow and plunging toward the lakebed, braving the searing heat.

Yet, in the blink of an eye, he shot back out from the lakebed and returned to his original spot.

He looked down at himself. Cracks had appeared all over his clothes. The robes, which were actually a Magical Artifact, now crumbled into fragments and fell away.

Even his flesh had become scorched and withered, and the expression under his mask grew even more grim.

’...Light?’

’How could it be light?’

In the single instant he was inside the Forbidden Land Core, he had been unable to see anything clearly. The brilliant, dazzling light was something even he had not anticipated.

’What in the world did that guy do inside the Forbidden Land Core?!’