"Today's Titans are truly fortunate!" A voice echoed in the dark, secluded space between dimensions. "If I had mastered the Heavenly Demon Secret Technique back then, becoming an epic wouldn't have been so arduous."
"Regardless of how difficult it was, you succeeded. You're far luckier than those who perished in the Void. If the Heavenly Demon Secret Technique had existed back then, our race would surely have far more epic-level Titans than we do now."
"Talking about the past is pointless. What's done is done. Right now, we should focus on solving the flaws of the Heavenly Demon Secret Technique. While it has drastically reduced the mortality rate of our kin during advancement, it has also led to a generation of weaker successors."
"Just pit them against heretic gods. There's nothing to worry about. If they're weak, let them refine their strength in battle. After a few fights, their combat prowess will naturally improve."
"The Heavenly Demon Secret Technique makes it far too easy to obtain source energy. It's prone to making the younger generation overly dependent on it," an ancient, majestic, and slightly somber voice said. It belonged to a primordial existence, expressing deep concern.
"The dragons are already showing signs of this. The newly ascended Dragon Kings are becoming addicted to the Heavenly Demon Secret Technique, unable to extricate themselves from its allure."
"Fools. Such shortsightedness. Even Bahamut, for all his greatness, is powerless to stop this."
"Bahamut holds a revered position among the dragons, but he's a Dragon God, not their ruler. He lacks the authority to command the Dragon Kings. At most, he can advise them based on his seniority."
"What a shame."
"If those Dragon Kings don't change their ways, they're as good as finished," an epic Titan remarked mercilessly.
"Not necessarily."
"We cannot allow our race to follow in the dragons' footsteps. Every Titan who uses the Heavenly Demon Secret Technique must face heretic gods after reaching a certain stage."
"Heretic gods aren't easy to find, and even when we do locate them, they're not always suitable as opponents for newly advanced epic Titans."
"That's where we, as their elders, come in. We'll help them identify appropriate targets."
"That won't be an issue!"
...
"Finally back." Muria stepped through the Void Gate, returning to the awe-inspiring multiversal structure created through the combined efforts of the Titans, Dragons, and Seraphic Gods—the Myriad Realms Portal Hall. Overlooking the vast, glowing expanse of world barriers below, he let out a sigh.
"Melodramatic." Mikaela appeared behind him, letting out a soft scoff. To her, this was already the third time her husband had undergone a reincarnation. He should be used to it by now—what was there to sigh about?
"Let's go see our sons and daughters," Mikaela suggested.
"You go ahead. I'll pass," Muria declined with a shake of his head. As the saying goes, returning in glory is best. And right now, he wasn't nearly "glorious" enough to warrant a triumphant return. So, there was no point in entering the world just yet.
"Should I call them over here?" Mikaela raised an eyebrow, already suspecting the reason behind his reluctance. She, too, decided against visiting the Boundless Celestial Realm.
"Sure, call them over," Muria nodded in agreement.
But just as Muria and Mikaela began their brief exchange, a surge of immense power tore apart the void before them, revealing a primitive, untamed world.
"Muria, you... hmm?" A being seated atop a mountain range, exuding an overwhelming presence, gazed at his descendant. Just as he was about to speak, his eyes narrowed, and his expression grew serious.
"Grandfather!" Muria greeted the figure with a slight bow, completely unfazed by his grandfather's sudden appearance through such a dramatic display.
"What did you do this time?" Akemond asked, scrutinizing his grandson. In just over a century, Muria had undergone drastic changes, almost as if he had been reborn.
Though Muria's outward strength seemed no different from over a hundred years ago, and his aura remained steady, Akemond's keen senses detected something unusual. Within Muria's body was another power, equally formidable, that he was trying to integrate and make his own.
"Did you devour a heretic god whole?" Akemond asked, his tone tinged with incredulity. That was the most straightforward explanation for the alien epic power residing within his grandson.
"Not exactly," Muria hesitated for a moment before shaking his head. Then, after a brief pause, he nodded slightly. "But it's close enough."
"Tell me about your recent adventures," Akemond said, his interest clearly piqued. It seemed his grandson had experienced something truly extraordinary.
Given his grandfather's request, Muria saw no reason to refuse. On the contrary, Akemond's insight might even help him resolve the issue he was facing. After all, Muria was struggling to fully control the Seven Calamities Demon God's power, only able to use it indirectly as if there were an invisible barrier in the way.
Thus, Muria recounted his recent journey in brief, offering Akemond an overview of the events that had transpired.
"How can I fully master the power of the Seven Calamities Demon God?" After finishing his summary, Muria posed his question directly.
"You can use this Demon God's power, can't you?" Akemond asked.
"Yes, I can," Muria confirmed with a nod.
"Then I have the perfect solution."
"What is it?" Muria's eyes lit up with anticipation.
"Battle!" Akemond declared decisively. He studied Muria for a moment, nodding slightly before continuing, "Combat is the best and fastest way to familiarize yourself with and fully control your power."
"Then..." Muria turned his gaze toward his grandfather, his eyes gleaming with eagerness. The Primordial Titan Lord, Akemond, was undoubtedly qualified to be his opponent.
"I mean battles where the loser dies and the winner lives," Akemond added firmly, immediately extinguishing Muria's idea. He had no intention of sparring with his grandson or serving as his training partner—it simply wasn't interesting to him.
"Then who should I fight?" Muria asked, his disappointment evident.
"I'll take care of that. Be ready," Akemond replied. With that, the torn void quickly sealed itself, and Muria's view returned to the serene, dark expanse of the Void.
"Be ready, huh?" Muria stroked his chin thoughtfully, a knowing look in his eyes.
"Take me with you!" Mikaela's voice suddenly rang out beside him.
"What for?" Muria asked, his expression turning exasperated.
"Take me along when you fight," Mikaela demanded. She had seen everything that had just transpired and knew exactly what Akemond had meant by "be ready."
"I refuse!" Muria responded without hesitation. This wasn't some sightseeing tour—why would he bring his wife along?
"I suggest you reconsider your words," Mikaela said, drawing a crimson-blazing divine sword wreathed in Seraphic flames. Behind her, pairs of radiant wings unfurled one after another, culminating in six pairs.
"Even if you threaten me, my answer is still no. There's no way I'll agree to this," Muria said, his tone resolute. He remained unfazed even as he noticed the sixth pair of wings that hadn't been there before. His wife's newfound form didn't intimidate him in the slightest.
Clang!
A scarlet blade beam shot skyward, splitting the dark Void with such force that it seemed to threaten the entire expanse. The sword's aura, carrying the might of a newly ascended epic being, rippled out, drawing the attention of countless powerful entities.
Before those entities could fully turn their gaze toward the commotion, Mikaela's sword beam, stretching an unfathomable distance, descended fiercely upon Muria.
"Seriously? You're actually attacking me?" Muria sighed, watching as the devastating strike, capable of splitting a small world's landmass, hurtled toward him. He shook his head and raised his hand to meet it.
As Muria extended his hand, it swelled to a colossal size in Mikaela's vision, expanding at an alarming rate until it dominated her view. Between his fingers, chains of order and laws materialized and intertwined.
The sound of surging tides echoed through the silent Void, accompanied by the salty tang of ocean air. A vast, sapphire sea appeared within Muria's palm, seemingly conjured from nothing.
"Muria, don't you dare underestimate me!" Mikaela shouted, her frustration evident. She had attacked Muria to prove her strength, knowing he was worried about her facing danger as a newly ascended epic. Yet, to her annoyance, he chose to counter her with the power he had only recently acquired and couldn't fully control.
"So hard to please," Muria muttered helplessly, watching his wife grow even more incensed. Meanwhile, her sword beam collided with the ocean he had summoned.
The divine flames, empowered by Mikaela's newfound mastery of the laws, burned fiercely, evaporating the seawater at an alarming rate, as if the ocean couldn't withstand her assault...
While Muria and Mikaela squabbled, Akemond, having made up his mind, reached out to several ancient epic Titans who had ventured beyond Erathia into other world clusters.
"Any heretic gods at the Fusion Origin or Proto-World stage? My grandson needs a fight."
"Your grandson? Which one?" Several terrifying mental projections, ignoring the vast distances between worlds, engaged in direct communication with Akemond.
"Muria."
"Oh, I remember him."
"Is he ready to fight a heretic god? He's been an epic for less than 300 years, hasn't he?"
"He's ready. He consumed the power of a heretic god," Akemond replied, briefly summarizing Muria's recent exploits.
"Ah, I see. In that case, I know a good candidate. Send him my way."
______
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