Chapter 25 – I Pick You, Nameless
The two Celestial Gods stood before Nameless.
The battlefield had not begun, yet tension already coiled like a serpent between them.
One of them spoke first. "Show us what you are offering."
Nameless nodded calmly. "I will not simply hand things over. I will show you two objects at a time. Ask what you desire. Choose wisely."
With that, he opened his dimensional storage.
A dark ripple tore through space.
From it, he pulled out a spear.
It was not an ordinary spear. Its shaft was black as a starless void. A suffocating aura leaked from its blade. The ground beneath it cracked slightly as if rejecting its presence.
"This spear," Nameless said quietly, "can wound even an Epic God."
Both Celestial Gods stared at it.
One of them showed no interest. He already possessed a divine spear with different attributes—one that complemented his domain perfectly.
But the other one did not.
His eyes sharpened.
"I will take it."
Nameless tossed the spear to him without hesitation.
The exchange had begun.
Next came swords—blades forged from fallen constellations. Armors layered with ancient runes. Shields that could reflect divine attacks. Each item radiated history, blood, and power.
The two Celestial Gods divided them equally.
But they did something unexpected.
They did not keep the legendary weapons for themselves.
Instead, they distributed them to the lower gods who had aligned under their banners.
Gasps spread across the gathering.
By strengthening their subordinates, they were turning their factions into terrifying forces. The Celestial Gods themselves did not require additional weapons. Their personal divine armaments were already beyond measure.
This was not about empowering themselves.
It was about forging unstoppable armies.
Nameless watched silently.
They were smarter than he expected.
Finally, he reached into his storage once more.
This time, he pulled out two ancient whistles.
They looked simple.
But their aura was anything but.
"One whistle," Nameless said, raising the first, "contains my personal Death Army."
The temperature dropped instantly.
"Five thousand soldiers."
He lifted the second whistle.
"This one contains my Protection Army."
Another five thousand.
Twenty thousand divine eyes widened.
Both Celestial Gods sensed it immediately. The Death Army radiated overwhelming killing intent. Their aura alone felt sharper. More aggressive.
The Protection Army, however, was stable. Defensive. Resilient.
The first Celestial God stepped forward immediately. "I want the Death Army."
Nameless turned to the second. "You may choose first, if you wish."
The second Celestial God looked at his rival.
Then he said calmly, "Brother, pick what you want."
The first laughed. "You are a fool as always."
Without hesitation, he grabbed the whistle containing the Death Army.
A wave of violent energy pulsed around him.
The crowd murmured. The Death Army was clearly stronger in direct combat.
Why give that away so easily?
Nameless waited.
The second Celestial God did not even glance at the Protection Army.
Instead, he looked straight at Nameless.
"I pick you."
Silence.
Absolute silence.
Even the mythic gods were stunned.
Why?
Nameless had already given away most of his treasures. His armies were the final major assets he possessed.
If he joined the second faction, what was left to offer?
Some gods whispered, confused.
"If Nameless cannot use his full power…"
"What value does he bring?"
Nameless, however, smiled.
"If you pick me," he said lightly, "I will still give the Protection Army to your rival."
Shock rippled outward again.
The second Celestial God did not react.
"I do not care about the Protection Army," he replied.
Nameless did not hesitate.
He handed the second whistle to the first Celestial God.
Now, both armies—Death and Protection—stood under one banner.
The first Celestial God's faction had doubled in visible strength.
The imbalance seemed obvious.
Then Nameless walked calmly to stand beside the second Celestial God.
Many gods began to question reality itself.
Why abandon armies?
Why choose a single being over ten thousand soldiers?
They did not understand.
Only one figure, seated above all, remained unmoved.
Lord Shiva.
His eyes gleamed with faint approval.
Because he understood something none of the others did.
The second Celestial God had not chosen a warrior.
He had chosen uncertainty.
He had chosen strategy.
He had chosen the one being who had just manipulated two Celestial Gods into open rivalry without lifting a weapon.
Armies could be measured.
Weapons could be broken.
But Nameless?
Nameless was chaos wrapped in intelligence.
And sometimes…
That is heavier than ten thousand soldiers.