Chapter 215: Ch 215 : How much!?

“So, tell me. Your little blessing-sale for the God’s eye talent… how much did you make from that little scam… sale. Thirty trillion? A decent start to refilling the coffers, I suppose.”

“It was already calculated beforehand,” Sunny said, his voice flat. “The sales from the blessings were, as you said, around thirty trillion. A modest sum.”

“Only thirty?” Adam joked. “And here you were, boasting of hundreds of trillions just a few hours ago. I suppose even an Emperor can miscalculate his market.” He was teasing, of course.

Thirty trillion faith in a half an hour was a staggering amount for any of the new Gods.

“Oh? We are making fun of each other now?” Sunny’s cosmic mask tilted, the swirling galaxies of his eyes seeming to focus on Adam.

He didn’t get angry. He simply, and casually, asked, “Do you know how much faith I have actually accumulated in this last half-hour, Adam?”

Adam’s smile faltered. He sensed no boast in Sunny’s tone. Only a quiet statement of fact.

“Well,” Adam calculated, “thirty trillion from the blessing sales. Then… the residual faith generation from the lifeforms, the excitement from the tournament’s end… another fifty, maybe sixty trillion. And this ’fun activity’ you just started…. that must be the source of the rest.”

He stroked his chin. “Two hundred trillion? Perhaps two hundred and fifty trillion, at most.”

Even as he said the number, it shocked him. He used to earn that much in a single minute at the height of his own empire, but that was with a fully-mature multiverse.

For Sunny, a god of only ten days, to pull such a sum from a fledgling empire… it was remarkable.

“Wrong,” Sunny chuckled, a dry, cold sound. “It’s higher.”

“Three hundred trillion?” Adam asked, his voice a little quieter.

Sunny just shook his head.

“Four hundred? …Six hundred?”

The masked figure remained silent.

“Eight hundred trillion?” Adam’s voice was now a whisper of disbelief. “Fck, Cosmos, you are kidding with me.”

“A full quadrillion?” he finally breathed, the number a guess so absurd it felt foolish to even say. “You are cheating, aren’t you? We are both Void-born! What makes you so special?!”

“You were close,” Sunny said, his voice laced with a cold, almost crackling with satisfaction. “One point one quadrillion. And still increasing.”

Adam coughed, his eyes wide with shock. “How!? How is that possible? The faith from the tournament and the blessing sales… it doesn’t add up!”

“I am not telling you,” Sunny replied, his tone mocking.

Adam shook his head, his mind, which had seen the birth of stars and the death of civilizations, completely unable to solve this single, frustrating puzzle.

“Aww, don’t make such a face,” Sunny said, his playful cruelty surfacing. “I will tell you.” He leaned in, as if sharing a grand, cosmic secret.

“It is a talent. My Gods of the Gods talent, to be precise. It allows me to earn a small percentage of all faith generated in this multiverse… specifically, the faith that is prayed to unknown or unclaimed entities.”

Adam stared at him, the color draining from his newly-manifested face. “The God of… unclaimed faith…” he whispered.

He remembered that talent. He had known a God, in the old era, a friend, who possessed it.

A God who had, through that single, seemingly minor talent, become one of the wealthiest and most powerful beings in existence, his power fueled by the lost, desperate prayers of trillions who had no one else to turn to.

It was a unique, SS-Grade talent, meaning that only one person in an era can have this talent.

“I thought you saw it with your God’s Eye?” Sunny asked, genuinely curious.

“I can’t,” Adam admitted, his voice heavy with a newfound, strange respect. “Not anymore. Your power level… it is now equal to my own. My God’s Eye cannot pierce your veil without me paying a price in faith that, quite frankly, I am no longer willing to spend.”

“Good, good,” Sunny said, accepting it as a simple fact. He then looked at the system panel that Adam had been watching so intently.

Adam’s gaze returned to the screen as well. What Sunny had ordered Thea to do was, in Adam’s opinion, a move of such cold, calculated, and terrifying genius.

Sunny had, locked the entire Realm of Advancement. It was now a one-way prison. Demons could enter, but they could never leave.

And Nexus’s connection had already identified the location of every single demon demigod hiding within its borders. A trillion of them. An army of evil.

Sunny could have killed them all in an instant. He could have had Nexus, the realm’s new master, simply kill them, eject them, or crush them. It would have been a simple, clean, and efficient act of pest control.

But that, Sunny had realized, would be a waste.

Why simply kill your enemies when you can monetize their execution?

The “fun activity” he had announced was a Purge. He was broadcasting the hunt.

Right now, on every system panel, in every home, in every one of the six billion worlds of his Pantheon, the show was live.

The lifeforms, their blood still hot from the tournament, their hearts swelling with the strength of their demigods and lifeforms, were now being treated to the ultimate entertainment:

Their own demigods, the heroes of their worlds, hunting and slaughtering the demons who had terrorized them for generations.

They watched as Nova and her team, an elite, immortal strike force, warped into a demon fortress and annihilated a dozen demon commanders in a flash of light and left for the location of other demons.

They watched as Ragnok’s champions, organized into a disciplined army, laid siege to a demonic stronghold, their battle cries a roar of righteous vengeance.

And with every demon killed, every fortress burned, every “mission completed”… the faith of the audience, a torrent of gratitude and bloodlust, poured forth.

It flowed to the subordinate Gods, who then tithed 25% of it automatically to Sunny.

Adam watched, his mind processing the sheer, cold brilliance of the plan. Sunny wasn’t just killing demons.

He was solving his faith problem, and his entertainment problem in a single, perfect, terrifying way.

And the most brilliant, most chilling part? His new Divine Immortality talent. The Nine Lives he had gifted his followers.

The demigods he had sent on this “hunt” were not just an army. They were an immortal army. When a demigod fell, overwhelmed by a superior demon.

The audience would gasp, they would weep, they would pray… and then, a moment later, that same demigod would be reborn, back in their home planet, stronger, wiser, and angrier, ready to rejoin the hunt.

Their “heroic sacrifice” was a commercial break, a moment of drama that would only make the faith of the audience burn hotter.

“It’s a win-win,” Sunny said quietly, as if reading Adam’s mind. “A perfect, self-perpetuating engine of power.”

Adam just shook his head, a single, stunned laugh escaping his lips. “You, Cosmos,” he said, raising his glass in a toast, “are a terrifying, terrifying God.”

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