"What an intriguing phenomenon. It seems my luck isn't so bad after all—stumbling upon a world like this during a dull moment."
A colossal god, whose mere presence illuminated the surrounding void, gazed upon the world before him. His golden radiance grew even brighter, reflecting his delight.
At first glance, the world seemed indistinguishable from any other life-bearing realm scattered throughout the void, unremarkable and devoid of anything that might move such a being.
But to Muria's golden eyes, this world was extraordinary. It overlapped with another realm—a shadowy gray, translucent world shimmering like an illusory mirage. The two worlds, though distinct, were slowly converging as if they were destined to merge into one.
The shadowy gray world appeared unreal, lacking the solidity of physical existence. This was no ordinary realm; it was an ethereal, spectral world unlike the material ones commonly found in the void.
Most worlds in the void are home to flesh-and-blood life or, less commonly, elemental beings. However, a handful of exceptional worlds exist, hidden in other dimensions, accessible only through specific means.
Such worlds remain invisible to those wandering the void, even to Epics like Muria. Yet, as vast as the void is, it occasionally births coincidences and miracles.
This was one such moment: a spectral world was merging with a material world, their boundaries colliding in a spectacle unseen before.
For most worlds, the physical fusion of two fully developed realms is impossible. The only "fusion" typically seen involves one world conquering or consuming another through warfare or parasitism.
But here, the merger was happening because one of the worlds was unlike any other—it was a realm composed entirely of spirits and lacked physical matter.
Thus, the convergence produced no catastrophic physical collisions. The true clash was happening on the level of laws and rules, a collision so profound that even Muria marveled at its intensity.
Each world in the void is a unique treasure, its distinctiveness giving rise to the diversity of life and power that creates great beings capable of roaming the multiverse.
When two such worlds converge, their laws inevitably clash. One will eventually dominate and subsume the other, forming a new, unified reality.
From his vantage point, Muria couldn't yet determine which world would emerge as dominant in this cosmic struggle.
Muria's interest, however, didn't lie in predicting the dominant world. What fascinated him was the potential benefits he could reap from this fusion.
Though he disdained the Void Gods' path of obliterating entire worlds for personal gain, he harbored no qualms about profiting from the natural phenomena of the void.
Artifacts and resources born from such cosmic collisions could strengthen even Epic beings. These treasures were often found in medium-sized or large worlds, though Muria lacked access to the latter. Small worlds rarely yielded anything of value to Epics, let alone grander entities.
When medium-sized worlds produced such artifacts, they were often consumed by the native inhabitants long before outsiders like Muria could intervene.
But the collision of two worlds presented a rare opportunity. The fusion would generate a bounty of treasures, and the conflict of laws weakened the suppression normally exerted on external entities.
In regions where the worlds overlapped, this suppression might even vanish entirely, providing a perfect chance for exploration and exploitation.
Yet Muria had no intention of entering with his true form. As an Epic, his very existence could wreak havoc. His presence alone would destabilize the environment; his actions in battle would devastate the world.
Instead, he would rely on avatars or minions to act on his behalf, minimizing his impact while securing the treasures he sought.
The Death Sea
In the silent, shadowy expanse of the Death Sea, not a single breeze stirred. Everything seemed frozen in time.
Beneath the still waters, translucent wraiths drifted, surrounding enormous steel warships that patrolled the abyssal depths. These ghostly vessels served to suppress disobedient spirits that dared to rise.
"Unknowingly, the realm I took from that old undead pirate Barbossa has grown to this extent," Muria mused, his voice laced with authority.
His immense will swept across the Death Sea, filling its denizens with reverence. Every wraith, spirit, and skeletal being bowed in awe, trembling before the manifestation of their master.
Muria had long since claimed this half-plane from a legendary lich. Though it had been absorbed into his domain, it was something he had largely ignored.
The Death Sea had grown exponentially under his influence, despite being a minor part of his dominion. While it hadn't directly benefited from his more significant exploits—such as consuming the Abyssal God's power—it had still expanded considerably.
Now, the Death Sea spanned an expanse vast enough to support massive ghost fleets and sprawling necropolises.
The surface of the sea was marked by a towering island of bone and deathly energy, crowned with eight skeletal cities. These cities, brimming with undead forces, were locked in constant conflict.
Muria's will swept across the island, silencing the chaos. All undead within the Death Sea prostrated themselves, quaking under the weight of his presence.
"Typical," Muria muttered. Without guidance, the Death Sea's denizens had descended into disarray. Most of his forces resided on the Central Continent, leaving this realm without leadership.
But it wasn't too late to impose order. Even now, the undead knew who their true master was.
With a single decree, the infighting ceased. The strongest undead were gathered to form a ghost fleet, a force powerful enough to traverse worlds under Muria's command.
"Perhaps I should pay more attention to this realm," Muria mused, watching the undead mobilize with unparalleled efficiency.
Satisfied, he extended his hand. A staff, radiating immense elemental energy, materialized in his grasp.
As the staff's radiance shifted from elemental brilliance to a deathly aura, a figure clad in black armor emerged, gripping the staff as though it were a symbol of divine authority.
"It's time."
The avatar of Muria, a Death King forged from his essence, gazed at the merging worlds ahead. Behind him, the Death Sea shimmered like a mirror, its surface breaking as a grand ghost fleet rose into the air.
It was a fleet destined to pierce through dimensions, ready to claim the treasures of a converging reality.
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