Chapter 127: Above Heaven and Below Heaven, I Alone Am Supreme

A Madman’s Guide to Traveling the World

Clap, clap, clap.

Within Liant Town, which had been temporarily stabilized after suffering an explosion just a few days ago, footsteps echoed.

There were no longer any buildings on fire now, but most of the structures remained unreconstructed, looking no different from ruins.

In this city resembling a wasteland, Wyatt Odius walked alone.

He wore an impeccably clean formal tailcoat, complete with gloves and a top hat. A ring with an amber gemstone adorned the index finger of his left hand, while his right hand carried a walking cane. From head to toe, he was spotless.

He wore no makeup, and there was nothing covering his face. Yet, his attire seemed somewhat out of place compared to the current scene.

Too clean, too tidy, too generous.

Holding his top hat with one hand, he walked at a leisurely pace, smiling as he surveyed the city, taking in every place he passed.

He observed silently, feeling every person, every blade of grass, every house, every brick…

These were all partial manifestations of his soul, the embodiment of his heart and memories.

His consciousness rose. His thoughts rose.

Ascending continuously.

He overlooked everything, yet he embraced everything. He ruled everything, yet he sheltered everything.

True Pride was the point where even the concept of "Pride" was no longer necessary. He was no longer proud now, because pride was born from comparison, and he had nothing left to compare himself to.

He attained without seeking; he was self-evident without proof.

Wyatt passed by the Municipal Hall.

That was once where he had worked when he first arrived in Liant Town.

Though it was a matter of rules, he too needed an "office."

Back then, he was full of vigor and confidence, always believing he could achieve anything, proud of his noble status.

But now, he had long understood the true nature of his nobility.

So-called status was not about oppression, but about bearing responsibility. The duty of the strongest was to shelter everyone, because everyone was "his possession."

He didn't need to be proud of any identity. He only needed to know that he was himself—that was enough.

He passed by the Enforcement Team's outpost, a symbol of authority and judgment, and once a place where he had delivered verdicts.

He remembered once, while strolling through the town, he had seen an old man in a pawnshop.

After chatting with the old man for a while, he went home and changed the Enforcement Team's emblem to a balance scale.

He looked up and saw that a golden balance scale still sat atop the Enforcement Team's headquarters.

"Heh." He chuckled softly, didn't step inside, just glanced at it, then looked away.

He had always been fair.

Not because of morality, but because unfair conduct would tarnish his pride.

He didn't need to lie, didn't need to deceive, didn't need any despicable means, because he was powerful enough.

The essence of this ritual now was that he had merged himself into this "Liant Town" born from memory, splitting his own soul to become ten people within it.

A hotel owner, a despondent Bard, a street vendor, an old pawnshop owner…

If not for this, when Samuel read the Bard's mind, how could he have been reading Wyatt's memories instead?

The "ten Outsiders who had infiltrated the town" mentioned in Liant Town's rules had never referred to Samuel and the others.

At best, they had merely passed through this city, never truly integrating, never becoming a part of it.

They existed on a different layer from the city itself—one was the entity, the other, the memory.

If so, how could they call themselves "Outsiders"?

They had never even entered.

The real Outsider was Wyatt.

It was him.

Coming from outside, integrating within, replacing ten people in this city of memories.

And guiding the few individuals he had drawn into this ritual to either cooperate or suspect each other, each believing themselves to be among the ten mentioned in the rules.

Except for Samuel, probably none of the others had guessed it.

Wyatt thought with a smile.

The moment the Sacred Law Knight's final sword fell and the last old man died, his soul had completely separated from the temporary, memory-created bodies it had inhabited, converging to become the Wyatt Odius of now.

Before that, he had experienced ten different lives.

Though the ritual had only lasted a week, he had truly lived through ten lives, experiencing their memories and pasts.

To become a Law Inscriber required erasing all possibilities of betraying one's own Law. And at his level, every move he made affected all "possibilities." Among these, the more instinctive and self-driven his actions, the greater their impact.

Thus, he created this ritual.

Throwing himself into ten different lives, experiencing them, allowing these ten different selves to react instinctively when faced with various situations—reacting with the instinct of the "Wyatt Odius" that had grown from those different lives.

His actions this time were, in fact, very dangerous, very risky.

It was like taking an exam, not only failing to review beforehand but also deleting all knowledge-related content from one's mind, relying solely on instinct to take the test—and if you got a single question wrong, it would be total defeat.

But so what?

He didn't care.

Obviously, he had succeeded.

More accurately, he was never going to fail.

As the embodiment of [Pride], he would never believe he could fail.

When faced with tyranny, his answer was "Pride." When faced with natural disasters, his answer was "Pride."

Even when facing death, facing decay, facing the final moment before life's end, his answer remained: "Pride."

No matter which version of him it was, no matter what kind of life had shaped him, no matter what situation he faced, the final answer was always "Pride."

This was the Law of [Pride].

He was as proud as ever.

Having walked through all of Liant Town, he finally returned to the city center, arriving at the Municipal Square.

Wyatt took off his hat, raised his head, and looked at the sky.

The sunlight was good.

This was good, truly good.

Unlike the day he had become a Law Contemplator, it wasn't raining.

He sometimes still thought of that cowardly, rainy night, but it had been a long time since he had bowed his head like that.

About a hundred years, probably.

The curve of his smile widened a little.

The greatest obstacle for the proud was never failure, but "self-doubt."

He had long been honest with himself, clearly aware that he was not perfect.

And then, in this state of "imperfection," he accomplished what only a "perfect being" could achieve.

Even though imperfect, he was still supreme.

With this, he completed his transcendence of "Pride" itself.

The next moment, the barrier separating the inside of Liant Town from the outside vanished.

Under the influence of the "Self-Contradictor's" ability, the barrier had betrayed the rules.

Space flipped. Liant Town appeared in the real world, appearing in the sky of the real world.

Then, this not-insignificant city betrayed gravity, floating in the sky in a way that completely defied the laws of physics.

It was now exactly noon.

The entire Liant Town floated in the sky, like an eye, overlooking the entire kingdom of Liastan.

At that moment, every single person in the kingdom of Liastan involuntarily stiffened, their thoughts becoming sluggish, as if their bodies had betrayed them, their minds had betrayed them.

The same thought occurred to all of their minds simultaneously.

About seventy years ago, the Corn Laws were abolished. The specific person who proposed the bill could no longer be found, but they remembered a period of turmoil afterward.

Following that, one bill after another had emerged over this past century.

Including, but not limited to, the abolition of the slave trade, the expansion of parliamentary seats to a certain extent, the Popular Education Act…

Some of these had unknown origins; some had come from a prince a hundred years ago, Wyatt Odius, and his students, and his students' students.

The most recent was a proposal, by some descendant or other of Prince Wyatt, to change the duodecimal currency system to a decimal one, and to modify the ris as the intermediate currency unit.

But at this moment, everyone, without exception, had the same thought.

All of this seemed to be Prince Wyatt's doing.

This prince had been dead for nearly a hundred years, yet somehow, everyone felt that there was nothing wrong with this.

Their thoughts had betrayed their common sense and their memories.

Standing in the center of Liant Town's Municipal Square, Wyatt opened his arms, feeling the wind blowing around him.

Through repeated amendments and legislations, he had infused his own thoughts into the laws of Liastan.

He stood above everyone, making them all submit to his rules.

First, entering the rules; then, entering people's lives.

Following this path, he had spent nearly a hundred years, under countless identities, bit by bit, inscribing himself into the deepest rules of the world.

He was the Absurd Performer, the Self-Contradictor, the Overlooker.

He stood above everyone, above the rules, above the high heavens, overlooking everyone.

He could sit at the same table as the lowliest beggar, and he could also make the strongest enemy bow their head.

His mercy was not weakness, because he had the power to destroy everything, yet he chose inclusiveness.

His humanity had not disappeared; it was encompassed by his divinity.

Just as the ocean embraces rivers.

His attitude towards everyone was completely identical, because no one was worthy of being treated differently, and no one was qualified to make him abandon his pride to deliberately target them.

Above heaven and below heaven, only he was supreme.

But he was never lonely, because he was one with all things. He sheltered everyone, because everyone was his people, his possessions, his responsibility.

He treated beggars and kings with the same courtesy, spoke to enemies and friends with the same words, because in his eyes, all beings were equal.

Equally beneath him.

He was the most arrogant person, yet he appeared to be the one least like Pride.

He who could embrace everything must be the one standing above everything. He who could shelter everyone must be stronger than everyone.

Under the gaze of the giant eye formed by Liant Town, the entire kingdom of Liastan fell into a brief state of stupefaction.

Even Law Contemplators were affected.

As Wyatt closed his eyes to feel, the sound of horse hooves echoed.

Clop, clop, clop.

A massive white stallion, clad in golden armor, carrying an equally massive Knight, entered from the end of the square.

The Knight was tall, wearing a full suit of golden plate armor, and in his right hand, he carried a heavy golden halberd.

Riding his horse, he came to a stop not far from Wyatt, bowed slightly forward, and with his left fist pressed against his chest, gave a Knight's salute.

"Good afternoon… Your Highness, Wyatt."

"My apologies for failing to recognize you during our last meeting."

His tone was calm, laced with a hint of guilt.

"It's fine," Wyatt opened his eyes, smiling as he looked at the Knight. "I was affecting your attention back then, preventing you from noticing my identity."

"I still owe you my apology," the Knight said.

Having said this, he straightened up, his heavy halberd pointing at Wyatt.

"My mission is to kill all the nodes of the ritual."

"You, it seems, are one of them."

Wyatt raised both hands, not hiding the fact at all.

"Of course."

"So, are you going to kill me?" he asked with a smile.

"I am sorry," the Knight said in a low voice, but did not deny it.

"No, you don't need to apologize." Wyatt was completely unbothered. "You can relax a little, just like…"

His hand suddenly reached behind him, and two of his fingers pinched a blade.

With the faint sound of crashing waves, a tall, black-robed woman holding a dagger emerged from behind Wyatt.

"How regrettable. I really thought I had reached a cooperation with the Fate Rectification School," Wyatt said, his tone somewhat regretful.

Of course, he wasn't certain it was those scholars from back then who were betraying him.

Fate always showed itself from many different angles. From different angles, those interpreting it could naturally interpret different scenes.

If so, the Fate Rectification School would, of course, have many different factions within it.

Some might think helping him was right; others might think killing him was right; still others might think pushing him further through assassination was right.

There was no certainty.

The moment he loosened his grip on the blade, the assassin wielding the dagger was sent flying backward.

It didn't look like being knocked away; it looked more like a horizontal freefall.

The direction of gravity had betrayed the rules, creating a paradox, twisting into a horizontal orientation.

The assassin kept "falling" horizontally for several hundred meters before finally stopping.

"See? It's like this." Wyatt looked at the Knight. "When facing me, you don't need to care about the fairness of a Knightly duel. You can just ambush me outright."

"Ambush is actually fairer for you."

"Though you still lag behind me."

As he spoke, time seemed to slow down, and a pure white color began to erode reality.

Wyatt raised an eyebrow slightly, then raised his hand and tapped gently on the air.

Crack.

An invisible pane of glass shattered.

"Are there more?" He looked in another direction.

Miles, holding a thick, black-leather-bound book, appeared in a window of a house.

Upon being discovered, he stepped forward, jumping down from the second floor to the ground.

"Major General Miles, I remember you." Wyatt nodded gently, then lowered his gaze to the black-covered book in his hand. "But I seem to recall you were at the 'Gemstone Tier.'"

"People always grow, you know." Miles smiled and nodded.

"Ah~, is that so?" Wyatt drawled, letting out a light laugh.

Now, three Law Contemplators had surrounded Wyatt.

But Wyatt was not flustered. He just looked at them with a smile.

As the Overlooker, every move of the three present was under his watch, without exception.

The assassin behind him was no different.

Having been a Law Contemplator a hundred years ago, he was senior to everyone present.

Especially considering that two of them had become Law Contemplators only with the help of external forces.

On one side were three people, but two had not fully condensed their Laws on their own. On the other side was Wyatt, who had been a Law Contemplator over a century ago.

A flash of light suddenly passed through Miles's eyes.

The corner of his mouth lifted almost imperceptibly, and a faint, barely audible laugh escaped his throat.

Then, with everyone in a state of tension, he pointed at Wyatt and shouted.

"So what if he's a veteran Law Contemplator? There are three of us! We might not be able to kill him!"

Both the assassin and the Sacred Law Knight were drawn by Miles's words. They instinctively felt it made sense, and for some reason, their minds unconsciously ignored the flaw in his statement.

They nodded almost imperceptibly, reaching an unspoken understanding in an instant.

"Ha…" Wyatt saw what was happening and laughed.

The next moment, the three attacked simultaneously.

The female assassin from the Fate Rectification School instantly appeared behind Wyatt, her dagger stabbing at his back.

The Sacred Law Knight charged forward on his white stallion, his heavy halberd cleaving down towards Wyatt's head.

Meanwhile, Miles opened his book, forcing the pure white space into reality.

Facing attacks from three directions simultaneously, Wyatt neither dodged nor blocked, a smile still hanging on his face.

His left hand hung down in front of him, pointing at the ground, while his right hand was raised high, pointing towards the sky.

He faced the attacks coming from front, back, and all around without flinching, the smile on his lips widening, one hand pointing to the sky, the other to the earth.

A pure white circle unfolded from behind his head, then rapidly expanded, enveloping everyone.

It was a sun disc that distinguished between high and low, shining upon all.

It was a circle of self-fulfillment, closed, requiring nothing from without.

The next moment, the words that came out of his mouth were the ones the Law Contemplators present least wanted to hear.

"A proto-Divine Realm!"