Chapter 829: It's My Skill to Conquer Everyone! Please Let Me Kill My Father
Was it satisfying?
Oh, it was beyond satisfying.
Ren surveyed the sprawling expanse of his private space, his gaze sweeping over the stunning women from a multitude of races resting around him. A thoroughly contented sigh escaped his lips, his mood soaring to unmatched heights.
Time flowed differently in this isolated pocket dimension compared to the outside world. By his rough estimation, at least several hundred days had slipped by. During that extensive period, he had made it a point to personally attend to every single one of them, leaving absolutely no one out.
If one had to describe his performance, his sheer 'stamina reserves' and relentless output had thoroughly conquered everyone, satisfying them completely in every conceivable way. The absolute best part of this monumental endeavor? Every single woman present possessed an exquisite, flawless figure, and they had all been completely untouched first-timers before he got his hands on them. How could any man possibly be dissatisfied with such a heavenly harvest?
However, the catalyst for this grand gathering had been Shuvi's reality-altering wish to the Star Grail. While the physical rewards were spectacular, Ren possessed far too much pride to settle for artificial affection fabricated by a magical artifact. He wanted the real thing.
Raising his right hand, he snapped his fingers.
The sharp sound echoed through the tranquil space. Instantly, the thousands of gorgeous women surrounding him—whose eyes had previously been overflowing with absolute, unconditional love—froze in place. A brief flicker of discordant confusion washed over their delicate features as the fundamental laws of their reality shifted.
With a single gesture, Ren completely erased the Star Grail's absolute influence over their minds.
Shuvi tilted her head, her mechanical yet highly expressive eyes blinking in genuine curiosity. "Brother, do you not like them?"
Ren chuckled, reaching out to affectionately rub her small, metallic-accented head. "Of course I like them, Shuvi. But relying on a wish to force their feelings just doesn't sit right with me. I need them to desire me exclusively on their own terms, completely free from your wish."
"That is a very difficult statistical probability." Even Shuvi, with her vast Ex-Machina processing power, understood the sheer impossibility of making thousands of hostile racial representatives suddenly fall in love.
"This kind of thing... it shouldn't actually be possible, right?" Couronne Dola muttered, her expression caught somewhere between awe and disbelief.
"I know the odds," Ren replied, a lazy, incredibly confident smirk spreading across his face. "But I already did it."
As if on cue, the collective moment of confusion among the massive crowd dissolved. Instead of the expected outrage or hostility, a deep, lingering affection blossomed in their eyes, now entirely genuine and rooted in the hundreds of days of intimate 'persuasion' they had just experienced.
The Flugel contingent moved first. Led by the imposing yet currently flushed figures of Azril and Jibril, the winged girls stepped forward, their wings fluttering in a display of absolute submission.
"Please allow us to serve you forever, Master Ren," Azril declared, her voice trembling with a mix of reverence and dark desire.
Jibril licked her lips, her golden eyes burning with intense heat. "Use us. Break us. Do whatever you please with us."
Following their dramatic display, the Elves, guided by the elegant and usually calculating Think Nilvalen, gracefully knelt to pledge their eternal loyalty.
With the two most arrogant factions taking the lead, the remaining representatives of the various races quickly followed suit, bowing their heads in unison. Ultimately, out of the thousands of elite women Ren had pulled into this space, not a single one chose to walk away.
This stunning scene made Couronne gasp in sheer shock, her jaw dropping wide open as she stared at the kneeling masses.
"H-how did you actually do that?"
"Do you really want to know?" Ren smirked, his eyes glinting with mischief. He crooked his index finger, beckoning the flustered Imanity girl closer.
As she leaned in, he lowered his head and calmly whispered directly into her sensitive ear. "I merely used my 'big stick' to conquer every last one of them."
"Eh?!!!"
Couronne squeaked, her face instantly erupting into a furious shade of crimson at such a shamelessly vulgar answer. But as the initial shock faded, a sudden realization washed over her. She remembered her own initial resistance to this absurd situation. Yet, after being thoroughly subjected to a relentless, mind-melting storm of his 'love', she knew deep down that she could probably never live without Ren's 'big stick' ever again. The sheer physical memory made her thighs clench involuntarily.
Her eyes widened to the size of saucers as she looked back at the kneeling crowd. "Wait... could they also...?!"
She scanned the thousands of powerful women, all kneeling gracefully on one knee. Their heads were raised, their flushed faces turned toward Ren as they eagerly awaited his next command. In their misty, longing eyes, Couronne saw the exact same vibrant, intoxicating spring of desire that currently pooled within her own heart.
Couronne instinctively swallowed hard, her throat suddenly dry. As exaggerated and utterly ridiculous as it sounded, the absolute truth was staring her right in the face. Ren had quite literally used his 'big stick' to physically and emotionally conquer the most dangerous women in the world.
Ren looked down at the massive, devoted crowd. His lips parted slightly, his voice carrying a calm, absolute authority that echoed across the dimension.
"From now on, you all belong to me. I will become the sole God of this world, and under my rule, you will usher in an era of absolute peace."
It was a firm guarantee. Since these women had willingly submitted and become his people, he naturally had no intention of treating them poorly.
With a casual wave of his hand, a brilliant ribbon of pure starlight swept through the air, circling the vast assembly. Countless arcs of radiant energy split off from the main stream, shooting directly into the chests of every woman present. The energy settled into their skin, transforming into elegant, glowing star-shaped marks.
"This mark will grant you lifespans more eternal than the universe itself," Ren declared, his tone dropping into a serious, god-like cadence. "You will remain ageless and immortal. At the same time, it will act as a conduit, allowing you to passively absorb the ambient power of the cosmos to continuously grow stronger."
"Consider this my first gift to you."
The moment the celestial marks branded their bodies, the women immediately felt a terrifying surge of boundless power coursing through their veins. Gasps of pleasure and awe rippled through the crowd, and when they looked back up at him, their eyes were practically overflowing with absolute devotion.
Before, they had been physically conquered by his relentless stamina, molded perfectly into Ren's desired shape. Now, however, they revered him as a true deity from the very bottom of their souls.
This absolute, unwavering loyalty was exactly what Ren had been aiming for.
Suddenly, his eyes flickered.
His relaxed demeanor vanished, replaced by a sharp, calculating glint as his gaze pierced through the boundaries of their pocket dimension, looking directly into the outside world.
Only half a day had passed out there, but a massive wave of chaos had already begun to sweep across the devastated lands. The source of this violent upheaval was none other than Artosh.
"Azril, Jibril, and the rest of you... take a look at this," Ren instructed smoothly.
As he spoke, he swiped his fingers through the air, unfolding a massive, translucent screen of light right in front of the kneeling Flugel.
The projected image displayed a towering, burly man who stood more than twice the height of an ordinary human. His physique was a mountain of dense, terrifyingly sculpted muscle. He possessed a thick black beard and a pair of razor-sharp, piercing golden eyes that seemed to radiate pure violence.
However, the most striking feature by far was the massive array of eighteen pairs of wings sprouting from his back. The wings were currently folded inward, draping over his colossal frame like a majestic, feathered cloak.
"Artosh!!!" Azril exclaimed, her voice cracking with a mixture of shock and deep-seated hostility.
She no longer held even a shred of respect for the entity she once called her father. He was the Old Deus of War. He was the absolute creator of the Flugel, which was the only reason Azril had ever defined him as her 'father' in the first place. He was universally recognized as the strongest of the Old Deus.
As the absolute pinnacle of power, Artosh was arrogant beyond measure. His overwhelming strength allowed him to view every other living creature, and even his fellow gods, as nothing more than insignificant trifles. Artosh constantly maintained the cold, untouchable aloofness expected of the God of War, simply because his very conceptual essence was defined by being 'the strongest'. He never took anyone else seriously.
The entire purpose of the endless, bloody Great War ravaging the planet was to contend for the ultimate throne of the One True God. Yet, as the undisputed strongest entity in existence, Artosh barely even cared about such trivial political goals.
However, just to symbolically participate in the cosmic slaughter, he had forged the Flugel to act as his weapons and oppose the other gods. Azril had been the very first of her kind to be created. As the eldest sister and the vanguard, she had always borne the heavy responsibility of conveying the God of War's absolute will to the rest of the Flugel, leading them into countless bloodbaths as their supreme commander.
The God of War himself, however, rarely lifted a finger. He spent his days sitting lazily upon his massive throne deep within the floating phantasm, Avant Heim. While casually tossing down orders for Azril to execute, he spent his eternity looking down upon the burning world from the absolute summit of existence.
The title of 'the strongest' meant he was an existence that absolutely no one could surpass. If he truly wished to, he could have easily crushed the opposition and won the Great War ages ago, but he simply lacked the motivation to do so. Aside from unleashing the Flugel upon the world, he had never personally stepped onto the battlefield.
But now, the impossible was happening right before their eyes on the light screen. Artosh had finally left his throne.
He had descended from the heavens and stepped foot onto the ruined land. He walked directly among the lesser races.
What in the world was the God of War actually doing?
Jibril's golden eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. She instantly knew the answer: she and her sisters had just become Artosh's prey.
The sudden, mass disappearance and blatant betrayal of his entire Flugel army must have finally piqued his dormant interest. She knew better than anyone that although Artosh was the strongest, nothing in this world was truly perfect, and even a god had his own deep-seated frustrations.
He desperately longed for a worthy opponent. An enemy who could actually challenge him, stand as his equal, or perhaps... even defeat him.
As the final, most perfectly crafted weapon of the Flugel, Jibril felt a dark, thrilling obligation bubbling within her blood—the innate desire to slaughter her own creator. Unfortunately, the massive gap in their power meant she could never even dream of attempting it before.
But now? Now, with the cosmic power Ren had just bestowed upon her, the impossible was finally within reach.
A terrifying, bloodthirsty smile stretched across Jibril's beautiful face, her eyes flickering with a manic, violent light. She stepped forward, bowing deeply.
"Master Ren," she purred, her voice dripping with lethal intent. "Please allow me to personally slaughter... my father."
Ren didn't even need to think about it. A matching, dangerous smirk touched his lips as he gave a single, decisive nod.
"Granted."
[Inorin's Note:
Enjoying the story? Dropping a quick review, comment, or Power Stone means the world to me and keeps these daily updates flowing!
Want to read 50 chapters ahead or just want to help keep a shameless translator alive? (My livelihood actually depends on this, haha 😭). You can support me directly here:
(P.S. Just remove the brackets and replace the [.] with a regular dot . to use the links!)
✨ Patreon (50 Advanced Chapters): patreon[.]com/InorinTL
☕ Ko-fi (Support / Sponsor): ko-fi[.]com/InorinTL
Thank you so much for reading and keeping this project alive!]