Chapter 244: Ch 244 : The Most Important District

Builder stood before the holographic miniature version of the City of the Gods, his usual confidence faltering slightly.

He gestured toward the final, northernmost quadrant of the city. It was sparser than the others, less cluttered with lights from east or stalls filled bazaars from west, but each structure radiated a pressure that made the surrounding air hum.

“I would have loved to explain the Northern District, Your Majesty,” Builder admitted, bowing low. “But apart from the God-Maker realm, i don’t know the purpose of any other buildings. I built what you asked, but I do not know what I built.”

“Thank you for your work, Builder. You may sit,” Sunny said, rising from his throne. His demeanor shifted instantly.

The casual, joking Emperor vanished, replaced by a figure of authority. He knew this district was not for fun or profit; it was the forge of his empire’s future.

“Ahem,” Sunny cleared his throat, the sound echoing in the silent garden. He looked out at his subjects and paused.

Six billion Gods had risen from their seats the moment he stood, a vast reverent silence filled the garden.

“You guys just sit,” Sunny said, waving a hand.

“Your Majesty,” the Gods spoke up, their voice firm with loyalty, “you are our Emperor. How can we sit while you stand?”

Sunny sighed, shaking his head with a small smile. “If I tell you what lies in this district, your knees will buckle anyway. So, save yourselves the trouble and sit down.”

With a gentle flick of his wrist, a wave of force washed over the garden.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Six billion Gods found themselves firmly seated.

Satisfied, Sunny began.

“The first building requires no introduction. The God-Maker Realm. The place where eight hours becomes a century. The place where you will forge your strength.”

He waved his hand, and the projection shifted. A new structure appeared, ancient, built from dark, rune etched stone that seemed older than the city itself.

Above its heavy iron doors hung a shimmering board: The Altar of Synthesis.

“As the name implies,” Sunny announced, his voice carrying a dangerous allure, “this building is used to fuse your talents.”

A collective gasp sucked the air from the garden.

“You are all blessed by Adam’s legacy,” Sunny continued. “You learn quickly. Your status screens are cluttered with D-Grade Fire Resistance, C-Grade Heat Control, and B-Grade Spark Manipulation. Useless clutter. But what if…” he paused, letting the greedy glint in their eyes grow.

“what if you could smash them together? What if two or three mediocre talents could be forged into one S-Grade or even higher grade with max being SS-Grade.”

The Gods leaned forward, salivating at the prospect. It was the answer to their prayers. A shortcut to power.

“Don’t get happy so soon,” Sunny cut in, his voice sharp. “This miracle is possible because of a relic I recovered from the Realm of Advancement, an artifact from a long dead, gambling God. And gambling… always has a price.”

He looked them in the eye. “It is not always successful. Sometimes, the fusion fails. And when it fails… the talents are destroyed. Gone. Erased from your soul.”

The excitement in the garden died instantly, replaced by a cold dread. To a God, a talent was more precious than a limb.

To lose one was death sentence, but for Sunny’s subordinates, it was time consuming…. Time consuming because it takes time to learn a new talent.

“It is a risky venture,” Sunny said softly. “But it is a path to power. You can use your Faith to fuel the fusion. But since there are six billion of you and only one Altar, you will register through Thea. She will judge your potential. Only the worthy will be allowed to gamble.”

“Your Majesty!” a God cried out, his voice trembling. “Is there no way to solve this? Our talents are our lifeline! We cannot risk losing them!”

Sunny chuckled, the sound easing the tension by a fraction. “Don’t worry. I already have a plan for that. It will just take… a few minutes after this meeting. I am working on a… let’s call it ’Divine Insurance’.”

The Gods heaved a sigh of relief so long that it created a breeze. Their Emperor was not cruel; he was just dramatic.

The projection shifted again, showing a series of high tech workshops glowing with magical runes.

“Next, the Guild Halls,” Sunny announced. “For the Blacksmiths, the Alchemists, the Array Masters and many more professions. These are not just buildings”

“Each building is permanently buffed with high grade magic: Divine Focus, Perfect Precision, Elemental Harmony. You will create faster, better, and stronger here than anywhere else in the multiverse.”

He looked at the builders, the crafters, the non-combatant Gods who often felt useless in the face of the demon threat.

“You may not be able to punch a Demon God, but you can forge the sword that kills him. You can brew the potion that saves a God’s life. Develop something useful for our war, and you will be rewarded with merits beyond your dreams.”

The eyes of the crafter Gods lit up with a fierce, competitive fire. They had been given a purpose.

They would not be free riders; they would be the backbone of the war.

They looked at each other and their competitive fire increased. They knew only those with good Talent will be chosen by other Gods to build something, thus all the other crafters were their opponents too.

Sunny laughed, enjoying the sight. ’Good. Competition breeds excellence. And excellence breeds profit.’

Finally, the projection changed to a minimalist structure that hummed with a strange, mental energy. The sign above the door read, The Skill Injection.

“I am not good with names,” Sunny joked with a shrug. “Don’t mind the title.”

“You know the Divine Library is filled with techniques,” he said. “But reading a manual on ’Grandmaster Swordsmanship’ is simple, but actually mastering it takes years of sweat and blood. Years you do not have.”

He held up a hand. Floating above his palm was a small, diamond-shaped crystal, pulsating with a complex, multi-colored light.

“But what if I told you that you could learn a technique to perfection… in a single second?”

The Gods stared at the crystal, entranced.

“This is a Skill Stone,” Sunny explained. “It is crafted from a unique material capable of storing laws. Inside this stone, I have woven Illusion, Memory, Time, and Healing magic.”

He crushed the illusionary stone in the projection.

“When you crush a real one, the laws flow into your mind. You do not just ’learn.’ You are pulled into an accelerated illusion where you practice that specific technique for a hundred thousand years”

“You feel the sweat, the muscle memory, the countless repetitions. And while your mind breaks under the strain of a millennium of training… the Healing law puts it back together, instantly.”

“You wake up a second later,” Sunny finished, his voice a whisper, “and you are a Grandmaster and if you are lucky maybe a Grandmaster with a talent for that field.”

The Gods looked at the projection, then at Sunny, with a mixture of horror and awe. It felt like cheating. It felt like hacking the laws.

’How does he come up with these things?’ they wondered. ’Is there no limit to what he can do?’

But Sunny just smiled. He was an Emperor of efficiency with a motto.

Why spend a lifetime learning to swing a sword when you could just buy the experience for a reasonable fee?

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