Chapter 42 — The Separation
Everyone ran.
The moment Nameless released that overwhelming radiance, instinct took over even for the strongest beings present. Varnesh and Astriel did not hesitate. Using their full power, they tore through space and escaped the battlefield, dragging others along with them.
Every god, every immortal, every fighter was forcefully teleported out.
In the center of the battlefield—
Nameless remained.
The barrier he had created earlier, meant to contain the shockwaves of celestial-level battles, now became the only thing preventing complete annihilation. The explosion from his body slammed against it violently, cracking it in multiple places.
For a moment, it seemed like it would shatter completely.
But the barrier was his creation.
It repaired itself.
Barely holding.
Inside it, everything was erased.
Weapons disintegrated.
Armor vanished.
The land itself was reduced to nothingness.
And in the middle of that destruction—
Nameless stood still.
Then his eyes widened.
His body trembled.
And slowly… it collapsed to the ground.
Silence filled the battlefield.
One god stepped forward, his voice shaking.
"…That body… it has no soul."
The words spread like poison.
No soul.
No presence.
No existence within.
Nameless's body was alive—
But empty.
Panic spread among the gods. Some stared in disbelief, others in fear. A being like Nameless… reduced to an empty shell?
The barrier was forcefully broken from outside as multiple gods combined their power and rushed in.
They surrounded the body.
Examined it.
Confirmed it.
"He's gone…"
But not everyone was shocked.
Some… were relieved.
Gods who feared Nameless, who hated him, who waited for a chance—
They moved.
"This is our chance."
One of them launched an attack.
A divine strike, filled with full power.
It landed directly on Nameless's body.
Nothing happened.
Not even a scratch.
Another god stepped forward, summoning a divine spear and throwing it with all his strength.
The spear shattered on impact.
Nameless's body remained untouched.
Perfect.
Untouched.
Unbreakable.
Fear crept back into their hearts.
But greed was stronger.
They attacked again.
And again.
And again.
Still nothing.
Then—
Something moved.
A dark aura erupted from Nameless's body.
The air turned cold.
Terrifying.
Unnatural.
From within that aura, figures began to emerge.
Spirits.
Vengeful, twisted, horrifying entities that defied comprehension.
Some gods instinctively stepped back, their instincts screaming in danger.
These were not ordinary spirits.
These were beings that once ruled, destroyed, and terrified worlds.
Beings whose names had been erased from existence.
And all of them…
Belonged to Nameless.
Before he became what he was now, he had walked a far darker path. He was not kind. He was not merciful.
He was a tyrant.
A ruler who crushed everything in his way.
And those he killed…
He enslaved.
The spirits roared silently, their presence alone enough to shake the minds of gods. They attacked instantly, throwing away anyone who dared to approach the body.
No one could get close.
No one dared to try again.
Then—
Nameless's body slowly rose into the air.
Without a soul.
Without consciousness.
Moving purely on instinct.
The weapons he had distributed across the battlefield began to tremble, then flew back toward him. Every artifact, every treasure he had given—returned.
The two massive armies contained within the whistles also responded, their connection overriding all commands. They rose and followed their true master.
The gods watched in silence.
No one stopped it.
No one could.
The body drifted away from the battlefield, carried by an unseen force, until it reached a distant, isolated location.
A safe place.
Meanwhile—
Nameless was elsewhere.
Not physically.
But spiritually.
He sat in a void beside his own body, observing it, confusion written across his face.
"What… is happening?"
Then it clicked.
His soul.
It had split.
One part—the stronger part—remained tied to his original body.
The other part… had grown.
Too much.
Now, the weaker fragment was no longer weak.
It was pulling him.
Forcing him.
Trying to bring him into its world.
Nameless realized the truth instantly.
"I don't have time."
If he did nothing, his body would collapse without a soul to sustain it.
So he made a decision.
A terrifying one.
In his personal domain, the countless clones that trained for him—all of them—stopped.
Then, one by one—
They were absorbed.
Every clone.
Every ounce of power.
Every bit of experience.
All of it was transferred into his body.
The energy surged violently, stabilizing it.
Strengthening it.
Preserving it.
Nameless then raised his hand.
In an instant, the land around his body reshaped itself.
A graveyard formed.
Silent.
Sacred.
Untouchable.
He placed his own body within it, sealing it away under layers of protection that no god could break.
Then he stood up.
Calm.
Resolved.
The pull from the other soul intensified.
It was calling him.
Inviting him.
Forcing him.
Nameless smirked slightly.
"So… this is how it begins."
Without hesitation—
He accepted.
The connection snapped into place.
The two souls began merging.
Darkness consumed his vision.
Everything faded.
And then—
Blackout.