"Where… is this?"
Lucci's consciousness awoke from endless chaos. Darkness—yet very warm. That was his only sensation.
He tried to open his eyes, only to realize he had no eyes.
He tried to move his limbs, only to find he had no body.
Yet the strange part was that he could still perceive this space through something like consciousness.
He felt a warm, viscous liquid wrapping around him, and beyond it, a hard, smooth, arc-shaped barrier.
The whole space formed a perfect oval, airtight.
"This… feels like an egg?"
A ridiculous thought flashed through Lucci's mind.
At that very moment, a cold, vast message—like it came from the beginning of the universe—erupted without warning from the deepest part of his consciousness!
Buzz—
It was as if enlightenment had struck, like sudden awakening!
In that instant, Lucci's consciousness soared without limit. He felt his thinking speed surpass light itself, as though with a single thought he could glimpse all truths.
What had been chaotic and vague became clearer than ever before.
From the information appearing in his mind, he understood:
He had transmigrated—and this power was his golden finger.
His comprehension… could defy the heavens!
In an instant, the world he saw completely changed.
That warm, sticky egg-fluid was no longer just fluid. It became golden threads winding through his vision.
The threads constantly lashed, burned, and released fierce, violent energy.
As for the hard eggshell, it was composed of countless denser, more intricate dark-red threads—like the finest chains—locking and sealing that raging golden energy within.
This was…
Laws?
Lucci's consciousness was dragged at once into a staggering, extraordinary realm.
Everything in his sight faded away, leaving only the most basic lines behind.
He could see that those golden threads were pure, primordial fire-power.
They destroyed, rampaged, and carried the might to burn everything to ash—as if they were born solely for devastation.
Too wild…
Too complex…
A thought rose in Lucci's heart.
This power was like an uncarved, stubborn stone: vast potential, but empty form—powerful, yet without elegance.
His extraordinary comprehension was now fully unleashed!
Lucci's consciousness seemed to turn into hundreds of millions of invisible giant hands, probing this ocean formed of primordial fire-lines.
[You observe the power of primordial fire. Your comprehension defies the heavens. Analysis begins…]
[You comprehend the "burning" property of fire…]
[You comprehend the "destruction" property of fire…]
[You comprehend the "light" property of fire…]
[You comprehend the "wrath" property of fire…]
[You are sorting, summarizing, and purifying…]
Countless black and gray threads symbolizing "wrath" and "destruction" were precisely stripped away one by one by his consciousness—erased—and completely eliminated.
The entire process flowed smoothly, without the slightest stagnation.
Gradually, the golden sea inside the egg became purer and brighter.
In the end, only the two most core, original traits remained:
[Burning and Light!]
Burning represented the eternal release and circulation of energy.
Light represented creation and hope—driving away darkness.
This… was the most perfect form of flame!
Lucci's mind steadied.
Then, integrating all the superficial understandings he had in his past life about the universe, energy, and soul, he began to construct his own foundational law—based on this pure source of burning and light.
[Your comprehension defies the heavens. Combined with your own definition as a transmigrator, you begin creating a foundational cultivation method…]
[The foundation of this method has been established: Primordial Fire.]
[The core of this method has been established: The soul is eternal; true fire does not extinguish.]
[The operational path of the method is being deduced… Complete!]
[Naming the method…]
"Named for the Origin, named for True Fire—this method shall be called the Origin True Fire Marvelous Art!"
Boom!
With the method formally named, Lucci's soul seemed to resonate with the flame laws of the entire universe—something mysterious and profound!
He didn't even need to deliberately guide it.
This newly born foundational law began to operate on its own, with an unrivaled, mystical rhythm.
In an instant, outside the eggshell, endless flames surged and gathered, forming a rapidly expanding vortex!
…
At the same time.
One of the Nine Realms of the cosmos: Muspelheim.
A kingdom of fire—an eternally burning world.
The sky was a whirlpool of flame. The land was cracked, scorched rock. The air was filled with sulfur and the breath of destruction.
Before the Temple of Flame, an earth-shaking battle had just ended.
The God-King Odin, clad in golden armor and holding the eternal spear Gungnir, stood with countless corpses of fire giants at his feet.
Before him, a fire giant with a body like a mountain knelt weakly, panting heavily.
The ruler of Muspelheim—Surtur, the fire giant—had lost the blazing crown above his head. The twilight fire clinging to his body, once hot enough to melt divine iron, had dimmed. Bone-deep wounds split his chest, and magma-like blood flowed without end.
He had been defeated.
"Surtur. The Ragnarok you foretold will never come."
Odin's voice was low and solemn, echoing through the kingdom of fire like eternal ice.
"Today, I end your ambition."
As he spoke, he raised Gungnir high. The spear-tip emitted a cold light that seemed able to split stars—aimed straight at Surtur's head.
Despair and resignation flickered in Surtur's eyes. He had no strength left to resist.
But at that very moment—
A sudden change!
Whoosh—whoosh—whoosh—
All of Muspelheim seemed to be held up by an invisible giant hand!
Whether it was the rivers of magma on the ground, the clouds of destruction rolling across the sky, or the fading twilight fire on Surtur's body…
All flame power—at this instant—lost control!
As if summoned by some supreme existence, it turned into hundreds of millions of streams of true fire, surging madly in one direction—
toward the abyss of the Temple of Flame!
It was like a hundred rivers returning to the sea, like ten thousand fires bowing and extinguishing!
Flame elements that had been violent, chaotic, and full of destructive will now became unbelievably obedient—as if they had found their true king!
Seeing this, Odin's pupil suddenly contracted. His raised hand halted. An unprecedented light flared from his single eye as he stared at the ancient, magnificent Temple of Flame.
He clearly sensed the fire power around the temple converging at a speed never seen before.
Above the temple, a colossal energy vortex covered the heavens!
What shook him even more was that at the center of that vortex, a vast, sacred, supreme aura of flame rose toward the sky!
That aura was utterly different from Muspelheim's rage and destruction.
It was warm and bright—filled with the charm of creation and rebirth—like the most original and pure fire of life in the universe!
Before that aura, even a Father-level God-King who had fought across the Nine Realms for nearly ten thousand years and witnessed the great powers of the cosmos…
felt, from the depths of his soul, a sense of insignificance.
Shocking.
Odin's heart surged like storm waves.
What… was happening?
Could it be that within this Temple of Flame, there was still an existence hidden—one even stronger than Surtur?
…