Even so, more questions began to surface in Arman's mind.
Wasn't Lord Locke known as a master of the Water Laws?
Then why, just now, had he sensed the aura of the Edicts of Fate from this lord?
Before Arman could think any further, Locke's voice sounded beside his ear.
"That's enough, Arman."
Letting the strand of Arman's soul aura dissipate from his hand, Locke said calmly, "I've already erased every trace of your soul aura from the bounty notices stored in Fiend Castle."
"What? You erased the soul aura from the bounty notices in Fiend Castle?"
Arman's pupils shrank violently.
Was something like that even possible for a god?
Unbidden, a memory surfaced in his mind—the incident decades ago when a Sovereign's projection descended in Tian Mountain Prefecture.
The information amethyst Locke had left behind had been meant for Muya, the Sovereign.
And the Sovereign's projection that descended in Tian Mountain Prefecture had clearly been drawn there by the information contained within that amethyst.
Only Sovereigns could communicate with one another on equal terms.
Could it be…
Was Lord Locke actually the Sovereign of Fate?
Locke glanced at Arman in mild surprise.
He hadn't expected that such a casual action would lead Arman to conclude that he was a Sovereign.
Still, Locke had no intention of correcting the misunderstanding.
The First War of Faith would one day become the most brutal conflict in the history of the Coiling Dragon universe.
More than twenty Sovereigns would perish.
Even among the Sovereigns of the Laws, two would fall.
And even a thousand cycles later, when the true protagonist of the world would finally appear, some of the Sovereign sparks of those fallen Sovereigns would still remain lost in unknown corners of the universe.
At that time, the total number of Sovereigns would barely exceed fifty.
Even counting the Four Divine Beast Sovereigns who would later fall, the total had never surpassed sixty.
Although Locke's true target was the Water Sovereign spark, the truth was that if either a Fate Sovereign spark or a Water Sovereign spark came into his hands, he could not guarantee he would resist the temptation to become a Sovereign.
There were still several million years before the War of Faith.
During that time, Locke intended to cultivate various forces and have them gather information from across the planes.
At the same time, they would search for rare treasures of heaven and earth.
Who knew? Perhaps he might even obtain one or two Overgod talismans, complete an Overgod mission, and receive something he truly desired.
If his followers believed they were serving a Sovereign, their enthusiasm would only grow stronger.
"From now on," Locke continued, "all you need to do is change your appearance and use a different name. The bounty notices will no longer affect you."
"But remember, Arman—I only erased the soul aura recorded in the bounty notices at Fiend Castle. Your actual soul aura has not changed."
"If you encounter someone who knows you personally, they may still recognize you through your soul aura. There's nothing I can do about that."
"I understand, Lord Locke," Arman replied respectfully.
"I'll keep that in mind."
Arman knew his soul aura had not changed in the slightest.
If Lord Locke could even alter someone's soul aura, that would be truly terrifying.
Locke glanced at him but did not explain the doubts forming in Arman's mind.
In truth, with Locke's current attainments in the soul, he could not truly change a person's soul aura.
But distorting others' perception was well within his capabilities.
For example, Locke could embed guidance markers or mission instructions within the soul power contained inside an amethyst. Anyone who saw the crystal would naturally perceive the information within it.
In the same way, Locke could subtly tamper with Arman's soul.
Anyone sensing Arman's aura would still detect the same soul aura as before, yet their minds would instinctively conclude that it was not the same aura listed on the bounty notices.
But Locke would never do such a thing.
In the Coiling Dragon universe, a soul aura was essentially a being's identity.
People recognized each other not by appearance, but by soul aura.
Everything else in the world could be altered—but a soul aura could not.
Only the Bula Clan, with their innate ability to create clones, could possess multiple soul auras.
Even then, those auras were fixed once the clone was created. They could not be changed again unless the clones merged back into one, forming a new, equally fixed soul aura.
If news spread that Locke could manipulate how others perceived soul auras, he would instantly become the sworn enemy of every living being in the universe.
After all, no one would want to discover one day that their beloved friend or family member had secretly been replaced by a stranger—while they themselves remained completely unaware.
Even if Locke never used such a power, that would not stop others from fearing him.
Often, it was enough merely to know someone possessed such an ability.
"There's also… something else…"
Arman took a deep breath.
He knew he had stumbled upon a rare stroke of fortune. Through Lord Oakes, he had gained a connection to Lord Locke.
This was the greatest opportunity he would ever have.
"Lord Locke…"
Arman began recounting his past.
He explained that he was the current leader of the Golden Turtle Tribe, located within the territory of Yemu Prefecture.
Hundreds of thousands of years ago, the tribe's leaders had chosen to become bandits roaming the surrounding regions in order to strengthen the tribe.
Because banditry carried a disgraceful reputation, the truth had always been kept secret. Only the tribe's god-level experts knew.
Over time, the Golden Turtle Tribe had grown prosperous.
Ten thousand years ago, the tribe had developed into one of the largest tribes in the region—second only to the nearby cities.
But prosperity brought division.
One faction believed the tribe had become self-sufficient and should abandon banditry.
The other faction had grown addicted to the wealth that robbery brought and refused to stop.
Eventually, conflict erupted.
The tribe split in two.
Those who wished to continue as bandits left.
The Golden Turtle Tribe's strength declined sharply, and its development stagnated.
This continued until Arman appeared.
Within just fifty thousand years, he had cultivated to become a Highgod entirely through his own efforts. He inherited the leadership of the tribe and worked tirelessly to restore it.
Under his leadership, the Golden Turtle Tribe returned to the ranks of the great tribes.
If things had continued that way, the tribe might one day have built city walls and transformed itself into a true settlement.
But before they could accumulate enough strength, Fiend Castle arrived.
Once Fiend Castle's influence spread across Hell, countless extermination missions were issued against bandits.
Bandit groups across Hell suffered devastating losses.
The faction that had split away from the Golden Turtle Tribe was no exception.
In their days of glory, they had forgotten the tribe entirely.
But once they fell into hardship, they suddenly remembered that a tribe still existed behind them.
When they came seeking aid, Arman refused.
In response, they threatened him.
If he did not join them, they would expose the Golden Turtle Tribe's past involvement in banditry. Once that truth spread, the entire tribe would be labeled a bandit tribe and placed on Fiend Castle's bounty list.
And once that happened, Arman knew exactly what would follow.
A Five-Star Fiend would eventually lead an extermination mission to wipe the tribe out.
Forced into a corner, Arman had no choice but to join them.
During one raid, although he deliberately avoided killing anyone, the former tribe leaders set a trap for him.
Using a recording crystal, they captured images of Arman attacking a caravan and leaked his soul aura.
From that moment on, Arman's name appeared on Fiend Castle's bounty list.
He had truly become a bandit.
"Lord Locke," Arman finished quietly, "after spending these years among them, I've realized that those former leaders are nothing but selfish villains. They deserve death."
"So, I beg you, please help me wipe them out—so the Golden Turtle Tribe can escape their control."
"Is that so?"
Locke raised an eyebrow.
Even he hadn't expected that some tribes in Hell would resort to banditry just to survive and develop.
With a casual wave of his hand, a curtain of light appeared before him.
It was a projection created using a Water Law imaging technique.
Moments later, the image stabilized.
Arman's eyes widened.
"That… that's the Golden Turtle Tribe!"
The figures in the image were moving about naturally.
This was not a static recording—it was a live projection.
The Golden Turtle Tribe lay more than seven trillion kilometers away.
When Arman had traveled from the place where he encountered Oakes to this location, it had taken him nearly three years.
If he tried to return now, it would take at least ten years.
Yet Lord Locke had displayed the tribe's current situation instantly.
What kind of power was this?
Within the image, Arman recognized many familiar faces.
He saw the bandit leader who had abandoned him earlier.
The man was now gathering the tribe's god-level experts, speaking passionately.
Before long, the tribe's experts began dividing into two factions.
Seeing this, Arman's heart tightened.
If this continued, the Golden Turtle Tribe might split once more—just as it had ten thousand years ago.
And this time, the consequences might be even worse.
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