Within Ethan's sight, the altars of the Son of the Sun Trade Association appeared as distinct nodes. 

Golden streams of Power of Faith interlinked these nodes, forming an immense Magic Circle that almost enveloped the entire city. 

This, it seemed, was the grand scheme of the Son of the Sun. 

Utilizing the altars as nodes, the spiritual power and Power of Faith from those who consumed the Solar Reagent would serve as the driving force and conduit, erecting a Magic Circle potent enough to ensnare the entirety of Flame City.

Yet, Ethan couldn't pinpoint the pivotal core of the entire ceremony. 

These altars merely acted as intermediaries; the accumulated Power of Faith would eventually need to converge upon a sufficiently powerful nucleus to ensure the circle's operation. 

At present, Ethan could only discern the general vicinity of a few cores, unable to ascertain their precise locations. 

Intriguingly, one seemed to be located near the Flame Church.

But that was of little concern. 

As the ritual progressed, the core of the Magic Circle would inevitably reveal itself.

Elsewhere, within the confines of the Flame Church, the Flame Witch Hilna remained unfazed by this monumental undertaking. 

"Heh, they're quite efficient," she mused, "Perhaps they could hasten things a bit. I'm growing rather impatient."

Standing hunched by her side, Dean, lacking in profound strength, remained oblivious to the city's ongoing transformation. 

His singular sensation was the meteoric enhancement of his abilities, especially in recent days. 

This staggering pace of improvement had him believing that it wouldn't be long before he could dominate and subdue the very witch who vexed him.

Harboring such treacherous thoughts, Dean kept his head lowered, suppressing his ambitions. Until his day came, he knew he must remain dormant.

"Madame Hilna, what pleases you so today?" he inquired.

Hilna cast him a sidelong glance, her tone indifferent. "Isn't it obvious? That heart is ceaselessly pumping power into you, isn't it?"

Hearing this, Dean's face drained of color, sweat beading on his forehead. 

Immediately, he knelt before her. 

Knowing there was no use in evasion or deceit, he candidly relayed his encounter with the hooded figure. 

Of course, in his rendition, he painted himself in a flattering light, portraying a sage who resisted temptation, used his wits to not only gain an advantage but also solve a crisis for Flame City.

Hilna elegantly lifted her foot, her crimson high heel pressing down on Dean's head. 

The force she exerted compelled him to press his face hard against the ground.

"Dean," she began, her voice cold, "from the moment you returned with that heart and failed to report to me, your fate was sealed. You do understand, don't you?"

Loyalty, if not absolute, is absolute betrayal. Dean's momentary concealment had become an eternal treachery.

"Given your years of service to me, I might overlook this transgression," she remarked.

Feeling the weight of her foot lift, Dean sighed in relief, yet he kept his forehead pressed to the floor, not daring to look up.

"However, it's a pity. While I might forgive you, I won't save you. Your grave miscalculation will serve as your punishment."

What did she mean?

Confused, Dean lifted his eyes, catching a glimpse of Hilna's shapely legs, visible through the flares of her flaming skirt. 

But in the next moment, his consciousness was plunged into an endless abyss of darkness.

The golden heart pulsed vibrantly, igniting Dean's frame like a furnace, transforming him into a human torch. 

The grand will of the ancient deity took command of this blazing husk. 

This was the straightest Dean had ever stood before Hilna.

"Sneaky rat, after all your skulking, you finally dare to show your face?"

Facing the avatar of the deity, the Flame Witch remained haughty.

"Insolent insect, it's your privilege to witness my grand resurrection and even provide sustenance for it."

"Heh, a lingering wretch surviving on borrowed time, I'm quite curious where you found the audacity to stand before me without completing the ritual."

Hilna rose from her seat, looking down condescendingly at the torch-like figure of "Dean".

There was but a mere three steps' distance between them. 

If she wished, she could instantly destroy one of the pivotal cores of the ritual, sinking the Son of the Sun's grand plans into oblivion.

"How can a bug crawling amidst the sands ever fathom the vast vision of giants? My wisdom far surpasses your imagination."

The flames atop the head of "Dean" flickered; though his visage was void of expressions, the mocking undertone was unmistakable.

As his words resonated, Ethan's light footsteps echoed through the church's entrance.

Upon seeing the damned figure slowly stepping in from the church's doorway, a throbbing headache began to plague the Flame Witch.

"Is this your backup plan?"

The shift in Hilna's expression caused "Dean" to burst into derisive laughter.

Two days prior, when Ethan had first set foot in Flame City, he was promptly detected. 

This accomplished magus was undoubtedly a prime vessel. 

While fragments of his divine form had already spread to every corner of the city, void of Ethan's share, the power Ethan held within himself was still exceptionally potent.I think you should take a look at

Harnessing this superior vessel and combined with the Power of Faith from the entire city, the Son of the Sun was confident in subduing the Flame Witch, ensuring the smooth completion of the ritual.

Regrettably, his hubris was his downfall. 

The Son of the Sun endeavored to manifest his power onto Ethan, this supposed "devout" follower. 

Yet, Ethan remained utterly unaffected. 

Proficient in the Soul Language of Nature, he was no genuine disciple of the Son of the Sun. 

Using his adept Soul Magic, he managed to deceive this weakened deity.

Ethan strode confidently to Hilna's side, casually draping an arm around the Flame Witch's slender shoulders. 

Now, it was the torch-like head of "Dean" that flickered uncertainly. 

The wavering intensity of the flames betrayed the foul mood of this once lofty deity.

"No matter. Merely a nip from a tiny ant. In the end, you cannot withstand the tides of time!"

What irked the Son of the Sun was not the turn of events, but that he had been outmaneuvered by Ethan, this "insignificant insect". 

Nevertheless, this was but a minor setback in his grand scheme. 

He had devised a plan well before Ethan's arrival, and now all that was required was to revert to the original blueprint.

With a smirk, Ethan looked down at the beauty he hadn't seen in ages. "Surprised? The moment I heard you were in trouble, I came rushing."

"Let go."

Regrettably for Ethan, the Flame Witch wasn't entertained. 

Her voice was as cold as ice, almost warranting a title switch to 'Ice Witch'.

"Don't be like that. For you, I risked my life infiltrating the core of the Son of the Sun Trade Association, facing this deity head-on. I was moments away from being converted into a zealot."

The torch-like figure, sidelined and witnessing the playful banter between the two, felt his rage intensifying. Without hesitation, he transformed into a burst of brilliant fire, soaring and puncturing the dome of the Flame Church.

Simultaneously, pillars of fire lit up throughout the city, marking the centers that had received parts of his divine form. Now, these multiple entities converged towards the heart hovering above the Flame Church. Astoundingly, a second sun emerged in the skies of Flame City!

"Seems like he's playing for keeps. Need my assistance?" Ethan inquired.

Hilna finally freed herself from Ethan's embrace. "Mind your own business!"

Shrugging off Ethan's warm hold, the Flame Witch too turned into a blazing trail, ascending towards the sun above. 

By now, the Son of the Sun's Descent Ritual had reached its zenith. 

Those who had consumed the Solar Reagent gathered blankly near the city's altars, loudly reciting the doctrines and titles of the Son of the Sun, constantly channeling their Power of Faith into him.

"Mere insects, bear witness to the radiance of the sun!"

A colossal torrent of Power of Faith converged into the sun, gradually giving form to a golden-red silhouette. 

It appeared akin to an egg silhouetted by lamplight, but from this vast solar egg, hatched a mythical creature of terror -- the Golden Raven!

Composed of flames, this three-legged giant bird spread its burning wings, overshadowing a vast portion of Flame City. 

Under its fiery illumination, every shadow within the city was brightened. 

Within moments of its emergence, the city's residents began feeling parched and scalded.

Warriors hastened to shed their armor to avoid being seared within, while magi discarded their robes, disregarding any semblance of dignity. 

Water basins within the city and the protective moat outside started to emit wisps of steam as water rapidly evaporated.

Yet, the disciples who had consumed the Solar Reagent remained around the altars, oblivious to the stifling heat, fervently worshipping the colossal bird in the sky.

The Power of Faith transformed into an intangible golden torrent, soaring from the ground's altars toward the Three-Legged Golden Raven. 

From a distance, they appeared like veins connecting the Golden Raven to its disciples. 

It was unclear whether the disciples were grasping the Golden Raven, or if the Golden Raven was siphoning the blood of mortals -- a sight both eerie and grotesque.

As the Power of Faith amassed, the form of the Golden Raven began to solidify, its fiery aura gradually receding to reveal golden phoenix feathers. 

Its proud phoenix head lifted, Golden Ravenned with a plume that stood tall, and ruby-red eyes that gleamed like gemstones. 

This was one of the divine forms of the Son of the Sun, the deity wielding dominion over "Drought," "Heat," "Flames," and "Death" -- the legendary creature, the Three-Legged Golden Raven.

Confronting it was Hilna, her slender silhouette adorned in a blazing red dress. 

Her fair skin contrasted and shimmered against the vivid garment. 

The hem of her dress and her long red hair burned like wild flames. 

Yet her delicate face was devoid of emotion. 

The juxtaposition of her cold, arrogant demeanor and the warmth of her figure was striking. 

Alas, such a breathtaking sight had no admirers.

For, in front of the Golden Raven, she seemed as insignificant as a grain of sand, smaller even than the Golden Raven's own eye. 

Under the gold and crimson sky, she stood, both isolated and inconsequential. 

Despite their disproportionate sizes, the two faced off in silent confrontation, a battle imminent.

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