Chapter 208: War Spreads Among the Gods
In the dimensional space above the mortal realm, a war had broken out between humanity's protectors and the Lords of the Dimensions.
However, the mortal world was in no position to witness such a scene.
At this level of existence, even the shockwaves from their clashes could annihilate the mortal realm in an instant.
Even the weaker gods couldn't cast their gaze toward the battlefield—any attempt to do so would result in immediate blindness from the entangling brilliance of countless law-bound streams of energy.
Meanwhile, in the realm of the gods on Earth, a grand conspiracy was unfolding.
A golden arrow streaked across the sky from the heights of the mortal world, plummeting into a towering mountain range.
In an instant, magma erupted like a tidal wave.
Then, one by one, towering ten-meter-tall giants burst out of the boiling lava, escaping with their lives.
"The pawns of the Heaven-Piercing Titan have broken free from their molten prison. They must not be allowed to ravage the mortal world!"
The gods of Olympus were the first to detect the disturbance.
Unfortunately, most of them were stretched thin, their divine power continuously being funneled to Zeus in his battle against invaders.
"I will suppress the giants."
A tall, beautiful woman stepped forward. In an instant, golden light enveloped her, coalescing into a set of resplendent golden divine armor.
In one hand, she wielded the Spear of War; in the other, the Shield of Victory.
She was none other than Athena, the Goddess of War—one of the Twelve Olympian Gods.
Among her many divine authorities, war and military command were within her dominion, granting her powerful divine blessings in battle.
As she planted her Spear of War into the ground, it rang out with a piercing note that echoed through the hearts of all who heard it.
At the foot of the mountain, the assembled armies of Olympus turned as one toward the divine temple at its summit.
Athena held her Shield of Victory to her chest.
In the next moment, she and tens of thousands of divine soldiers turned into brilliant golden streams of light and descended into the mortal world.
The giants, who had only just tasted freedom, were greedily inhaling the fresh air.
Suddenly, divine soldiers appeared in phalanx formation, descending from the heavens.
Athena led her troops in a charge straight at the giants.
Similar scenes played out across the various pantheons.
In Heaven…
The angels, once united in service to the Heavenly Father, had now split and were engaged in brutal internal conflict.
On either side of the Heavenly Father's throne stood Gabriel and Lucifer—his symbolic right and left hands—now leading opposing angelic legions into battle within the celestial realm.
"Lucifer, rebel of Heaven! Lay down your arms at once and repent before the Almighty Father!" Gabriel roared.
Gabriel and the angels loyal to him unwaveringly upheld the will of the Heavenly Father, dedicated to fulfilling his divine commands.
"You disgust me with your blind obedience," Lucifer said with open contempt. "You choose to serve those filthy, fragile mortals, while I intend to overthrow the Father and build a Heaven where angels rule over mankind."
Fueled by the Father's favoritism toward humans, Lucifer and his faction had long grown resentful. In secret, they struck a deal with the Hermes cult.
Now that the Father was absent from Heaven, the time had come to seize power.
"Rebels such as you belong in Hell!"
Amidst the chaotic battle, an enraged voice thundered through Heaven.
All the rebellious angels froze in shock.
It was a divine decree from the Heavenly Father himself.
With a single utterance, the course of fate was sealed.
Before the rebels could react, they were cast out of Heaven en masse, sent hurtling toward the mortal world.
As they breached the atmosphere, friction ignited their descent in flames, making them appear as falling stars streaking across the sky.
During the fall, their divine purity dissolved. Their once-pure white wings turned pitch black.
Thus, the Fallen Angels were born.
Upon impact with the ground, there was no thunderous crash—only a soft descent, as if they had fallen into cotton.
Yet they continued to sink.
Terrified, they tried to grasp the earth beneath them, but it slipped through their fingers like quicksand, leaving them no foothold.
They now understood—they were falling into Hell.
At that very moment, Asgard too faced rebellion.
Odin ruled the Nine Realms with an iron fist. Naturally, this bred resentment across the other realms.
Now, the long-awaited rebellion had begun. Armies rose from all directions, encircling the divine realm.
The allied forces of the Dark Elves, Frost Giants, and Fire Giants quickly breached Asgard's outer defenses.
In this war, the young Thor stood at the forefront, personally leading the gods of Asgard into battle.
Among the vanguard was the elite Valkyrie unit, who rode winged horses and charged straight into the Dark Elf fleet led by Malekith.
Having once followed Hela through countless conquests, every surviving Valkyrie was a reaper of death. Those who knew their name trembled in fear.
"Your Majesty, perhaps we should retreat. It's the Valkyries!"
From the bridge of the dark elf ship, seeing hundreds of Valkyries bearing down on them sent a chill through their bones. Fear surged—should they fail, they would face Asgard's merciless vengeance.
The All-Father Odin was not known for mercy.
Failure meant bloodshed.
The rebellion was only possible because the Death Goddess, once Odin's executioner, had turned against Asgard. Without her, they wouldn't have dared dream of such defiance.
"Stand and fight! Without the Death Goddess leading them, the Valkyries are nothing to fear!" Malekith barked.
With the battle already at Asgard's gates, there was no turning back. Retreat now, and both Odin and their supposed allies—the Frost Giants and Fire Giants—would come for their heads.
Thor alone fought off the Fire Giants at the front, a one-man wall no enemy could pass.
Loki joined the other gods in resisting the Frost Giant invasion.
True to his nature, the God of Mischief used illusion and magic to toy with his enemies, sneaking in for knife attacks whenever possible.
Frankly, the other Asgardians had never understood his ways—clearly a magic-type god, yet he always favored close-range sneak attacks.
This time, however, Loki picked the wrong target.
The Frost Giant before him was taller than his peers, his icy blue skin etched with complex magical runes—clear marks of nobility.
It was Laufey, King of the Frost Giants—Loki's true biological father.
Laufey saw through Loki's tricks with ease. He grabbed Loki by the throat and slammed him to the ground, slowly raising a massive axe to strike.
Suddenly, Loki's skin began to change, taking on the blue hue and royal markings of the Frost Giants.
A flood of long-buried memories surged in Laufey's mind—of the child he had abandoned.
In the eyes of the Frost Giants, a child of human stature was considered deformed. Such children were left in temples to die.
But Loki was lucky. Odin had conquered the Frost Giants and discovered him as an infant.
Back then, Odin had merely wanted a companion for his heir, Thor.
A sudden arrow struck Laufey's shoulder, snapping him back to reality.
He gave Loki one long look, then turned and gave chase to the assailant.
High above the mortal realm in the dimensional plane, Odin saw Asgard under siege.
Without hesitation, he unleashed his ultimate weapon.
From the vaults of the divine palace, the Destroyer Armor was remotely activated—its slaughter about to begin.
Meanwhile, in the mortal world…
The scorching sun blazed over an endless golden desert.
Suddenly, a pitch-black substance, thick as oil, oozed from the sands, spreading quickly.
This wasn't the kind of oil that would excite the U.S. military—it was a substance of pure evil and darkness.
It twisted and bubbled, spawning bizarre creatures, half-beast and half-human.
The gods guarding this land all emerged from their temples at the same moment, sensing the coming darkness.
Due to changes in dynasties and time, the Egyptian gods had undergone frequent reshuffling.
They were divided into humanoid gods, beast-headed gods, and abstract deities.
Internal unity was lacking, and there was tension between old and new gods.
Clearly, the threat came from those unwilling to submit to Amun-Ra.
Cawww—
A piercing cry rang out from the City of the Sun, spreading across the land.
Horus was summoning the gods to battle.
The source of the darkness was none other than Set—his father's murderer.
…
For now, the battles in the higher dimensions and among the gods had not yet spilled into the mortal world.
Last time, hunting the Demon Owl Clan had given him enough experience to reach level 40, allowing him to create nine original spells.
Awooo…
The serpent-women nervously peered into the cave.
The pitiful howls of the husky echoed nonstop, sending chills down their spines. They could only imagine what cruel horrors their king was inflicting inside.
After a full hour, the howling ceased.
The husky hobbled out of the cave again, covered head to toe in bandages.
Even now, as a veteran-level mage, the husky's fear of Allen ran deep into its bones.
"Oh yeah~"
Allen skipped out of the cave with hands on his hips, proudly announcing, "I've got nine spells in my magic book now! One day, I'll mass-print a few hundred thousand copies and fulfill the dream where everyone can practice magic and become a mage!"
"Your Majesty, I didn't realize you were so powerful."
Hisius hesitantly asked, "Could you help our tribe improve our poison magic?"
"Poison magic, huh?"
Allen stroked his chin thoughtfully. "That might be worth exploring. I'll gather a few well-endowed snake-women mages and study it together."
"Why do they need to be well-endowed?"
Hisius instinctively straightened up, and her ample figure wobbled conspicuously.
Ahem.
Allen adjusted his expression and said seriously, "For the rigor of magical research."
"I see."
Hisius accepted this explanation without objection.
The magic Serpent Clan had natural talent in poison magic, but it had always been refined through trial and error—never formally developed.
With no written language, it was impossible to build a complete system.
But for a cheat-powered guy like Allen, analyzing poison magic was a piece of cake.
During a casual patrol around his territory, Allen spotted the training grounds of the serpent guards and became curious.
Their training was extremely primitive. Aside from basic strength training, it mostly involved charging together with spears—resembling primitive tribes hunting giant beasts.
"Click!"
At a shouted command, the 300+ serpent guards turned toward Allen, who was sitting on Hisius's shoulders.
"Greetings, my King!"
"You may rise, my beloveds."
"Thank you, my King!"
Allen pointed at the captain of the serpent guards. "Hey, you there, come here."
"My King, I am Cuiliu."
The captain's face was rugged and covered in scars—clearly a battle-hardened warrior.
"I think your training method is unscientific," Allen said seriously.
"What is 'scientific'?" Cuiliu asked in confusion.
"That's not the point."
Allen jumped to the ground and presented a new training plan.
The Serpent Clan had never even developed bows, likely relying on their mages to fill that long-range role.
Now, they could have a portion wield bows, while others carried spears and blades.
With their solid physiques, many tactical combinations were possible.
"But, my King, you said we should train our jumping ability… but we don't have legs."
After carefully listening, Cuiliu pointed out a fatal flaw.
Jumping requires legs—asking otherwise was just plain bullying.
"That's easy."
Allen waved to Hisius. "Come demonstrate. I promise you'll bounce real high."
"What do I do?" she asked, genuinely curious how it would work.
"Coil your tail—tighter, tighter, yeah—like a big pile of poop. Don't move. I'll launch you in no time…"
The Demon Serpent Guards watched as their once-revered queen was manhandled by the new Serpent King, her body coiled round and round like some monster's droppings.
"Are you ready?"
"Ready!"
Allen walked to the tip of Hisius's tail, leapt high into the air, and shouted, "Here you go!"
"Ahhh..."
He stomped hard on the base of her tail.
A searing pain surged from the root of her tail, spreading rapidly along its entire length.
With a blood-curdling scream, Hisius shot straight up like a spring released under pressure, launching skyward like an arrow.
"Holy crap, that's at least thirty meters," Allen said, looking up in astonishment.
"Ahhh—"
Splat!
Hisius came crashing down, landing in a limp heap.
She had finally gotten a taste of what it felt like to "ascend to the heavens"—just not in the way she'd imagined.
"My king, are you trying to make us step on our own tails to train our jumping?" Cuiliu asked hesitantly.
At this rate, their tails would probably end up a few segments shorter.
"Absolutely not."
Allen explained, "This is to help you train tail propulsion."
Hisius looked like she was about to cry. If it's tail propulsion training, then so be it—but why did he have to stomp on her tail? Hugging the base of her tail, she blew on it frantically in a futile attempt to ease the pain.
Night fell.
Ten demon serpent magi had been selected to assist Allen in researching poison magic.
Under the envious gazes of the others, the ten magi followed Allen into the cave.
"Damn it! Why didn't the king favor me?" Cuiliu growled as she tore into a roasted skewer, venting her frustration.
"Am I not pretty enough? My hair's pink, for crying out loud!"
"Heavens, is it because I'm not voluptuous enough? Am I destined to never earn His Majesty's favor?"
"I'm dying of jealousy. I won't be able to sleep tonight."
"…"
More serpent women gathered around the entrance of the cave, listening intently for any sounds from within.
Whispers of curiosity and gossip quickly filled the air.
"Why's it so quiet? Isn't the first time supposed to be super painful?"
"Maybe the king's still deciding who goes first."
"My bet's on Her Majesty the Queen."
"…"
"Ahhh—"
A scream echoed from within the cave.
The serpent women's faces lit up with excitement.
As more screams followed one after another, their expressions gradually shifted to confusion.
"Wait, something doesn't sound right. Doesn't feel like that kind of thing."
"Doesn't it sound more like the screams prey make before they die?"
"Yeah… it kind of does…"