Chapter 828: The Almighty Star Cup! Shuvi's Wish That All Women Love Brother Ren
"What... what is this?!"
Memories violently unlocked, flooding her consciousness like a broken dam. Azriel clutched her head, feeling as though her very existence had been shattered and haphazardly pieced back together. She saw the impossibly peaceful world Jibril had described. More terrifyingly, she saw the life she herself had lived within it, completely oblivious to reality.
She snapped her head up, glaring daggers at Ren. "What exactly did you do to me, nya?!"
Ren merely shrugged. His posture remained utterly relaxed, his voice as calm as a still lake. "Like I just said. You lived in the dream I created."
"Impossible!" Azriel bared her teeth. She refused to believe anyone could possess such terrifying authority. Pulling the entire world into a fabricated reality, rewriting their lives, and then wiping their memories clean afterward? Even Lord Artosh, the God of War himself, was incapable of such a feat!
"That dream... it was indeed flawlessly real, but..." Think Nilvalen hesitated, her long elven ears twitching nervously. It wasn't that she doubted the reality she had just experienced. Rather, the deeper her mastery over elven magic grew, the more she understood the sheer, beyond understanding scale of power required to manipulate reality on a planetary level.
There was only one singular existence she could fathom capable of this.
"Unless... it's the Star Cup?" Ren offered a faint, approving smile, speaking the very words she feared to say.
The title the Old Deus so desperately craved was the One True God. To ascend to that throne, one had to claim the Star Cup. It was a mythical conceptual device born from the ancient cosmos. Whoever held the Star Cup would gain absolute authority, wielding power that completely eclipsed the Exceed, the Sixteen Races of Disboard.
This singular pursuit was the catalyst for the devastating great war among the Old Deus.
The Star Cup had existed for hundreds of millions of years. It was designed to manifest only when the singular, most powerful force in the world finally emerged. For the One True God who held it, creation and destruction, the past and the future, even observation and absolute determination could be manipulated with a mere thought.
Because of this, the Old Deus believed that only by slaughtering their peers would the Star Cup finally reveal itself to the last god standing.
But the truth was far more complex.
For this planet, the Star Cup was essentially another name for the Spirit Corridor, the planetary core that governed all magic and bestowed power upon the intelligent life of Disboard. If a being could pierce through the very center of the Spirit Corridor, they would wield power that surpassed even the theoretical concept of the One True God.
Fundamentally, the Star Cup was described as a vessel containing all-powerful power from the universe itself. The Star Cup of this specific planet was merely a single, accidental drop that had spilled from that cosmic vessel.
Ren recalled the deeper lore. The Star Cup possessed the divine essence representing the very concept of omniscience and omnipotence.
And it was entirely real.
Ren casually raised his hand and closed his fingers.
A blinding, ethereal light erupted within the room, washing over the walls and casting long shadows.
Shuvi, Think, Jibril, and Azriel, the four girls who truly understood the apocalyptic weight of the Star Cup, widened their eyes in absolute shock. The air grew heavy, thick with a density of magic that made it hard to breathe.
A radiant, gem-like object materialized, floating gently above Ren's palm.
"The Star... Star Cup?" Think stammered, her usual composed elven elegance shattering. She couldn't be entirely certain, but her finely tuned magical senses screamed that the power contained within this tiny gem was an unfathomable, bottomless abyss.
"That's right. This is the Star Cup. Just a little trinket," Ren said casually.
With a lazy swipe of his hand, the blinding gem shrank. The ambient light condensed until a delicate metal band formed around it, embedding the ultimate artifact of the gods into a simple, elegant ring.
"Shuvi. This is for you."
"Oh... oh!" Shuvi blinked her large, mechanical eyes, quickly extending the ring finger of her left hand. "Humans are supposed to wear wedding rings right here, correct?"
"Hehe, that's right." Ren stepped forward, gently taking her small hand and sliding the ultimate conceptual weapon of the universe onto her finger.
Jibril, Think, and Azriel stared, utterly paralyzed.
That was the Star Cup.
Azriel swallowed hard, her voice dropping to a trembling whisper. "Is that really the Star Cup, nya...?"
The supreme artifact that Lord Artosh had waged an eternal, world-shattering war to obtain? The prize that countless gods had died for? It just appeared out of thin air and was casually handed over as a piece of jewelry?
Azriel felt her entire worldview collapsing.
"Shuvi, since it's a gift for you, why don't you make a wish?" Ren suggested, an amused glint in his eye. "Making a wish with this thing in this world is highly effective."
"Mm... okay."
Shuvi turned her head, her glowing eyes sweeping over Azriel, Jibril, and Think.
Azriel's wings stiffened. A sudden, terrifying premonition gripped her chest. She felt that something disastrous was about to happen.
Shuvi raised her hand, the Star Cup gleaming on her finger. "I wish that all the women in this world love Brother Ren!"
The entire world seemed to freeze. Time itself held its breath.
Ren's eyelids twitched slightly. "Shuvi, the wish you just made..."
Shuvi tilted her head innocently. "Because this is a gift for my beloved Ren. I want to give you the best."
The very next second, the atmosphere shifted.
Jibril, Think, Azriel, and Couronne, who was still flushed and catching her breath from her recent private exercises with Ren, all slowly turned their heads. Their pupils dilated, swimming with an intense, indescribable, and overwhelming affection.
"Lord Ren!"
The four of them practically tackled him to the floor, a tangle of limbs, wings, and soft skin pressing against him from every angle.
Ren didn't bother stopping them. He was a pragmatic man, after all.
Instead, he casually snapped his fingers, tearing open a massive spatial rift in the center of the room.
Flashes of light illuminated the space as beautiful women from various races were forcibly teleported over. Among them, an entire flock of bewildered but rapidly flushing Flügel tumbled out of the rift.
The moment their eyes landed on him, the Star Cup's absolute decree took hold.
"Lord Ren!"
It was truly a garden of a hundred flowers blooming all at once. A chaotic, fragrant sea of absolute devotion.
Well, no matter what, he might as well get to work.
And so, Lord Ren began his arduous, day-and-night campaign of conquering his newly assembled legion.
While Ren was deeply entrenched in his battles, absolute chaos erupted across the outside world.
High above the war-torn lands, Artosh sat upon his massive throne, staring down at the completely empty territory of the Flügel. A heavy, suffocating silence hung over the God of War.
The entire race of angelic war machines he had personally forged was gone. Vanished without a single trace. He reached out with his divine senses, but the connection was completely severed.
"This is... betrayal?"
Artosh had never, in his eternal existence, imagined that the weapons he created from his own divine essence would abandon him.
"Heh... heh heh."
A slow, immensely cruel smile stretched across Artosh's face. The sheer absurdity of his own creations betraying him ignited a terrifying rage within his chest.
But beneath that rage, a dark thrill of excitement boiled.
What could possibly be more satisfying than personally tearing apart the very weapons he had built? He lived for only two things in this universe.
First: endless combat and glorious slaughter.
Second: the Star Cup.
Hunting down and slaughtering his rebellious creations was just another form of war.
"Heh. I hope you hide well." His booming voice echoed through the empty heavens.
Meanwhile, the other races of Disboard were descending into absolute pandemonium.
Across the Exceed, every single exceptionally beautiful, pure-hearted woman had vanished into thin air.
In the streets, single men collapsed to their knees, weeping bitterly at the sudden disappearance of their local beauties.
Married men tightly hugged their wives, breathing heavy sighs of relief, thanking the heavens that their spouses were still safe in their arms. Ren, despite his shamelessness, still maintained a basic bottom line, he only teleported away the pure and unclaimed.
But the relief of the married men was short-lived.
A chilling realization washed over them. As they looked into their wives' eyes, they noticed a distant, dreamy glaze. The women were looking right through them, their cheeks flushed, clearly fantasizing about a man they had never even met.
"What in the world is going on?!" anguished cries echoed across the continents.
Elsewhere, fathers ran frantically through the streets, panicking over their missing daughters. Fortunately, gentle, telepathic voices echoed in their minds, with their daughters happily assuring them that they were perfectly safe and had found the love of their lives. It barely managed to calm the frantic parents down.
Who told Ren to be so... kind?
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