The fundamental reason was a decision Oakes had made after bringing Figueroa to Mount Nether.
When participating in the Sovereign Army selection, Oakes had entrusted both his own life and his wife Yagonia's life entirely to his son, Figueroa.
If Figueroa's strength proved insufficient and he and Yagonia died during the selection, they would have no complaints.
It was precisely because of that pressure that Figueroa grew within the mist Locke had arranged on Mount Nether.
And it was also because of this that, when Locke learned that the Death Chief Sovereign had left Figueroa's original body on Mount Nether when Dunnington came seeking revenge, he had no objections.
If Figueroa had still been as hopeless as before, then no matter how talented he was in magic formations, how could Locke possibly have allowed a Paragon emissary like Dunnington to slip away?
Now, Locke and Lilia were preparing to return to the Frostsnow Plane. Upholding the principle that education should begin at a young age, Locke decided to let his son Loran undergo this trial.
After all, given his and the Death Chief Sovereign's status, unless something happened, they generally remained on Mount Nether cultivating and rarely left.
Since they had finally decided to leave the mountain, they might as well accomplish everything they could at once.
"Really?"
"Really. Father doesn't lie."
"Alright, then let's pinky swear."
Smiling, Locke hooked his little finger with Loran's tiny hand.
"Alright, pinky swear. Then let's seal it too."
"Lead the way, son. For the next period of time, your mother and father will be relying on you to protect us."
"Hahaha, leave it to me!"
With that, Loran rose more than a meter off the ground and flew ahead first.
Seeing this, Locke and Lilia both smiled and shook their heads, holding hands as they slowly followed behind him.
"Who dares block this young master's path?"
Within a forest, little Loran, a red ribbon wrapped around his body and a black spear in hand, pointed at a trembling Saint-level magical beast and loudly demanded an explanation.
After Locke and Lilia removed the restrictions on him, Loran had practically gone wild. Any living creature he saw, he would rush over and challenge.
Since Locke and Lilia had agreed to use only Saint-level power, they naturally did not fly and instead traveled on foot.
Of the entire family, only little Loran openly displayed Deity-level strength.
The Netherworld was vast beyond measure. To people like Locke and the Death Chief Sovereign, it seemed as though every living creature they saw was Deity-level or higher.
But in reality, the number of Saint-level beings in the Netherworld exceeded the number of Deities by dozens of times.
Without such an enormous Saint-level population, how could so many Deities ever be born?
However, within the cities of the Divine Planes and Higher Planes, only Deities and Saints with connections were permitted entry. The vast majority of Saints were assigned to tribes surrounding the cities, doing the hardest and most exhausting labor in the Divine and Higher Planes, little different from slaves.
As Locke and the Death Chief Sovereign traveled through the Netherworld on foot, before reaching any city, the strongest beings they encountered were merely Gods residing within tribal settlements.
Since Loran was leading the way, he went wherever seemed interesting.
Mountains.
Forests.
Mountain ranges.
Canyons.
Volcanoes.
In the wilderness, magical beasts ruled supreme.
Countless Saint-level tribes lived among mountains and rivers.
If a Deity-level magical beast emerged within a tribe, it might even bring the entire tribe into a city to live.
This was also why Loran had roamed freely through the Netherworld for decades without ever encountering an opponent.
Bored, he could only amuse himself by playing with the Saint-level magical beasts he encountered.
The Saint-level magical beast currently being pointed at by Loran's spear had tears in its eyes, its bitterness impossible to describe.
Seriously, who would understand this?
It had been sleeping peacefully in its cave when someone suddenly picked it up and threw it onto the road, then accused it of blocking the way.
What a joke.
Did they think it was blind?
The gravity of the Netherworld prevented even Saints with natural flying abilities from taking flight.
Only after reaching the Deity level could one break free from the Netherworld's gravity and fly freely through the skies.
This little fellow might look tiny, but he was floating in midair.
At minimum, he was a Deity-level being.
Was it stupid enough to block a Deity's path?
"My lord, spare me..."
"It was my fault for failing to recognize Mount Nether. Please, my lord, for the sake of my shallow knowledge, spare my life."
Although Saint-level magical beasts could not transform into human form, they could already speak and communicate normally with other lifeforms.
The reason this Saint-level magical beast had survived for so long within these vast mountains was precisely because it knew how to read situations.
Since this lord claimed it was blocking the road, then whether it had done so or not, it had to admit it.
Now it could only hope that this lord would spare its life in light of its cooperation.
As for running away...
A Saint had no right to flee before a Deity.
Not to mention the enormous difference in speed between Saints and Deities, the Deity's "Domain" alone ensured that Saints were less than ants before Deity-level beings.
"Oh? You little turtle are rather interesting."
A trace of surprise flashed through Loran's eyes upon hearing the magical beast's response.
Over the years, he had played this game countless times, but this was the first magical beast that had simply admitted guilt directly.
Immediately, his interest was piqued.
"Very well. Since you know about Mount Nether, this young master will spare you this time."
"However, you need to find something entertaining for me. Otherwise, even if this young master wants to spare you, the spear in my hand won't!"
As he spoke, Loran casually swept his spear toward the side.
A curtain of water shot forth, instantly carving a hundred-meter-long trench into a distant cliff face.
Loran had been born a Deity. The Profound Mystery he comprehended upon becoming a Deity was the Water Element's Water Surge Profound Mystery.
Although he had yet to comprehend any other Water Laws Profound Mysteries over the years, his application of the Water Surge Profound Mystery had improved tremendously.
After all, while Locke and Lilia had stated they would use only Saint-level strength during this journey, neither of them had held anything back when teaching Loran.
And who exactly were Locke and Lilia?
Locke was currently the foremost expert in the Water Laws and the only Water Laws Paragon in existence.
Although Lilia's Water divine clone was not a Paragon, her comprehension of the Water Laws was second only to a Paragon.
She could even invoke traces of the Spatial Laws, the higher Laws above the Water Laws.
Under the guidance of Locke and Lilia, Loran naturally would not become like those Deities who merely comprehended Laws but were unable to fully utilize them.
Furthermore, because Loran had been born a Deity, he had never experienced the four stages of touching upon the Laws, entering the Laws, comprehending the Laws, and mastering the Laws. This left him with significant deficiencies in his understanding of the Laws.
Over the past decade or so, Locke and the Death Chief Sovereign had been gradually cultivating his sensitivity toward the Laws and teaching him how to use his existing Profound Mysteries to touch upon and understand other Profound Mysteries.
At present, it seemed as though Loran had not grown much. More than ten years had passed since his birth, yet he still had not touched upon a second Water Laws Profound Mystery.
However, neither Locke nor the Death Chief Sovereign worried about this.
Once Loran used the Water Surge Profound Mystery to comprehend additional Water Laws Profound Mysteries on his own, he would naturally possess the foundation needed to comprehend others.
In truth, if one wished to help a lifeform comprehend Profound Mysteries more quickly, then the "magic" systems divided and spread by the Sovereigns were undoubtedly a shortcut.
Back then, Locke had first touched upon the Water Laws' Misty Illusions Profound Mystery through magic, eventually reaching where he stood today.
However, cultivating magic required offering one's faith to the Sovereign of that element.
If the Sovereign so desired, they could even use that faith to exert influence over the practitioner.
This was no secret within the Seven Divine Planes and Four Higher Planes.
Because of this, many beings within the Divine and Higher Planes would rather remain stuck in their cultivation than pursue the shortcut of magic to comprehend additional Laws of their element.
Of course, the stronger a lifeform became, the weaker the influence Sovereigns could exert through faith.
For example, back when he cultivated Water-style magic, a portion of his faith had fallen under the control of the Water Sovereigns.
However, at that time, the Sovereigns used faith power to accelerate their own cultivation. The faith Locke had offered had likely been consumed long ago.
Even if traces remained, with Locke's current strength, it would be impossible for any Sovereign to influence him through such insignificant remnants of faith.
In fact, they might even suffer backlash due to the vast difference in power.
As the son of Locke and the Death Chief Sovereign, neither of them wished for their child to leave such a weakness in the hands of other Sovereigns.
Using related Laws within one's own element to comprehend more Profound Mysteries was dozens of times more difficult than the shortcut of magic.
But it carried no risk of losing one's faith.
"Something entertaining?"
The Saint-level turtle felt helpless.
As a solitary Saint, simply surviving in these mountains was already difficult enough. Where could it possibly find anything entertaining?
Only Deities like the child before it would think the Netherworld was not dangerous and treat traveling as a search for amusement.
Naturally, despite these thoughts, the turtle dared not voice them.
It could only lead Loran toward places where it had once hidden.
Those locations had long since been occupied by other Saint-level tribes, forcing the turtle to relocate.
Hopefully they would satisfy this young master.
Otherwise, it would have no choice but to act against its conscience.
After all, surviving wasn't something to be ashamed of!
(End of Chapter)
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