Chapter 168: Ch 168 : The First Lamb

A slow, profound smile spread across Sunny’s face. The Pantheon God Chat was on fire.

The waves of gratitude and loyalty from his 5.5 billion subordinates, a constant, gentle tide of faith, washed over him, each message a spark of brilliant energy.

Zir: “NINE LIVES! Do you all understand what this means?! My demigods are practically immortal! We can charge a demonic fortress, die gloriously, and be back in time for dinner! The demons are FINISHED!”

Asura: “It is more than that, brother Zir. Boss has taken the greatest burden from us. The fear of permanent loss. He has given our people courage. A soldier who does not fear death is the most dangerous soldier in the cosmos. Our Emperor has not just given us a shield; he has forged us into an unbreakable sword.”

Maya: “My people live in crystal caverns. A cave-in was our greatest fear. Now… now it is merely an inconvenience. I… I have no words. Thank you, Emperor Cosmos.”

Herem: “My demigod just tested it. She flew straight into the heart of a lightning storm that would have annihilated her before. She said she was struck down, and then simply woke up back in her bed. She is laughing. I have never seen her laugh so freely. This is the greatest gift. Though she is dumb enough to waste a life of her. But it does prove the word of our emperor.”

Ureal : “does the word of emperor needs to be proved? He says what is truth, if it is not the truth, then it will become truth by itself, you seen to be forgetting the scene of 420 gods becoming a mortal”

Sunny felt it all, the collective, universe-spanning sigh of relief. “This will help us in the fight against the demons more than any weapon,” he mused.

An army that does not fear death is an army that cannot be truly broken. One million faith points for a personal rebirth?

He was earning that much every few milliseconds. He was, for all intents and purposes, truly, absolutely immortal.

With the safety of his empire secured on a fundamental level, his thoughts turned back to the Grand Tournament.

He needed a venue, a stage worthy of a contest that would decide the fate of 420 worlds.

His mind drifted back to the River of Time, to a fleeting image he had seen during Adam’s final, desperate meeting. A colossal arena.

“Thea,” he commanded, “have your particles reached the location I marked at the center of the Realm of Advancement?”

He focused his God’s Eye on the memory, peeling back the layers of its creation, recalling the details Freya had woven into its very fabric.

The Arena of Epiphany. It was a training ground for the Gods under Freya, a place where the very act of fighting granted the combatants a deeper understanding of their own techniques, magically pointing out flaws and guiding them toward mastery.

It was a sanctuary where a God’s soul could enter without the crushing cost of faith. And then he saw the final, crucial detail.

The last thing Freya had placed. A restriction keyed to the unique, primordial energy of a God born from the Void.

In that ancient past, it was a lock that could be opened by billion of void borns; but now… now there was only two: Adam and Cosmos.

It was a private fortress, a perfect, unassailable battlefield.

[Master, I have arrived at the destination,] Thea’s voice chimed in his mind. [But I do not see any arena here. The space is empty but incredibly dense with spatial energy.]

“Don’t worry,” Sunny replied, a triumphant smirk on his face. “Only I can enter that arena. And nobody else can.” He glanced at the system clock.

Eight hours remained until the tournament was set to begin. It was time to prepare.

He closed his eyes, his mind once again sinking into the deep, beautiful complexities of the Law of Manifestation.

In the dark, oppressive meeting hall of Ashgar, the mood was one of impatient fury.

“Half of our demon demigods are in position,” Maledictus reported, her melodic voice laced with annoyance. “They have been waiting for years in that gods-forsaken realm, and still, these new Gods refuse to take the bait.”

“They are scared,” Beelzebub reasoned, his voice a low growl of hunger. “Or perhaps they have already sensed our ambush.”

“Then we should send the demon gods to their home planets!” Ichor snarled, slamming a corrosive fist on the bone table. “Burn their worlds! Slaughter their creations! Give them a reason to be desperate!”

“No,” Deimos said softly, his voice cutting through Ichor’s rage. “The demon gods would never agree to such a power consuming order. Forcing them into a direct confrontation with a True God’s home world is a command they can, and will, refuse. We cannot afford a civil war.”

“At least some will listen,” Phobos rasped, the hundred terrified faces swirling in his shadowy form contorted in a hungry grin. “We do not need to conquer them, not yet. We only need to sow a little fear. In their desperation, they might make a foolish move and charge into the Realm of Advancement, right into our waiting arms.”

Deimos considered this, a slow, cruel smile spreading across his face. Phobos was right. They didn’t need to win every battle; they just needed to create chaos.

“Let’s do this,” he finally decreed, his voice dropping to a low, menacing whisper that sent a shiver through even the other Demon Lords.

“Send the order to all demon gods. Tell them to attack the home planets of the new Gods. And if they refuse…” He paused, his black eyes gleaming with a cold, final logic. “We will kill a few of them as an example. The rest will fall in line. They will surely prefer to weaken themselves in a war against these newborns rather than face extinction at our hands.”

With that single, ruthless verdict, the game changed. A tide of unimaginable destruction was about to be unleashed upon the unsuspecting independent Gods.

The multiverse is vast, but the scent of a weak, isolated God is a beacon in the darkness for predators. It took the demon gods less than two godly hours to find their first target. (More than 2 years)

Sheeren was a God of Art. His world was a canvas of breathtaking beauty, his lifeforms a race of artisans and poets who valued creativity above all else.

His God space was not a fortress, but a gallery, filled with sculptures of light and paintings woven from pure emotion.

He was not in Pantheon, not because he was arrogant, he just wanted to be independent. He wanted to be like his art, which flowed independently without a single care about the world.

But currently he was utterly unprepared for what came next.

Five demon gods, their forms a grotesque mockery of life. They ripped through the fabric of his God space. It was a violation, a brutal intrusion of filth into a pristine sanctuary.

“Who… who are you?” Sheeren stammered, his divine form trembling, the beautiful sculptures around him cracking under the sheer pressure of their malevolent auras.

The five demons just laughed. They circled him like sharks, savoring his terror.

One, a creature of shadow and whispers, began to murmur echoes of Sheeren’s deepest insecurities in his ear.

Another, whose fingers dripped with a corrosive acid, began to slowly dissolve one of his most prized statues of light, watching with glee as the God of Art winced in psychic pain.

This was not a battle. It was a game, and Sheeren was their toy.

Sunny’s consciousness was pulled from its deep state of comprehension.

[Master, an independent God is being attacked by five demon gods. They have not engaged him in combat yet. They are… playing with him.]

“They are that eager?” Sunny chuckled, but there was no humor in the sound. The demons had just made the first move on his board.

He had been planning a grand, sweeping strategy, making every God come under him. but this… this was an opportunity for a much more direct, much more easier thing to do.

“Until the Demon Lords personally attack, I am truly immortal,” he whispered to himself.

With a single thought, he tore a portal open in his God space. It was not a gateway to Veridia or to his new universe.

It was a shimmering, stable tear in reality that connected directly to the chaos unfolding in Sheeren’s invaded realm.

The five demon gods froze, their taunting laughter dying in their throats. They turned as one. In the center of Sheeren’s violated God space, a portal of pure, undeniable cosmic power now hung in the air.

From its depths, they felt a gaze. A powerful, and deeply amused gaze that seemed to say, ’You’ve had your fun, children. Now it’s my turn.’

’i want to say, courting death so bad’ sunny thought, but didn’t voiced it aloud. As this was a fantasy trope not a cultivation one.

He walked out of the portal and looked at the five demon gods with amused expression, though the demon gods were unaware of his expression as his face was covered with mask.

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