Chapter 145: Conference with the Vassal Gods

“Fourteen days ago, this entire hemisphere was designated for execution.” Red’s voice amplified through the virtual acoustics, reaching the highest rows of the amphitheater. “The summit deployed four high-tier warlords to dismantle our borders. Today, the Forgecaster, the Blood-Mage, the Glacial Sovereign, and the Zephyr Lord no longer exist on the server.”

He paced slowly across the dais, sweeping his gaze over the assembled deities.

“I promised you a shield when you bent the knee.” Red stopped and folded his hands behind his back. “I delivered it. We broke an invasion force led by entities ranked far above our own. The Rank 10 War Deity and the Rank 9 Elementalist anchored the physical vanguard perfectly, bleeding the enemy momentum long enough for the final strike.”

He brought up a holographic projection of the updated continental map above the stage. The massive red borders now encompassed the entire eastern hemisphere.

“The surviving enemy armies dropped their weapons the moment their gods were deleted. I integrated 312,405 mixed-race followers from their godless camps directly into my personal Bastion. Added to the 14,000 human laborers and 1,000 mixed monsters already under my direct command, my personal population now stands at 327,405 souls.”

Red expanded the projection, highlighting the eighty individual vassal territories dotting the map.

“Combined with the 4.27 million mortals operating under your respective banners, our unified industrial super-state now commands a total population of roughly 4.59 million.” He tapped a finger against the air, dismissing the map and replacing it with the image of a massive, smoking crater in the western deadlands. “Those numbers mean nothing if the ground beneath them ceases to exist.”

The eighty gods stared up at the digital image of the pulverized mountain range.

“The anomaly you called the Void-Eater achieved its true awakening,” Red continued, stepping to the very edge of the stage. “It initiated a sequence to delete the physical bedrock of the Seventeenth Continent. I stepped into the epicenter and permanently purged the glitch from the system. I did not just defend your borders from rival players. I saved your 4.59 million citizens from total digital erasure.”

’Let’s take the credit for it. Since it happened over my territories, no one knows what truly happened.’ Red thought to himself.

He let the silence stretch across the vast amphitheater. The sheer scale of the averted apocalypse settled into the minds of the assembled pantheons.

“Your survival is no longer a question of luck.” Red looked directly into the front row. “You owe your continued existence, your territories, and your lives entirely to my banner. Remember exactly who you serve and why you serve. And let your followers know it too.”

The murmurs across the eighty obsidian seats gradually faded as hands raised from various tiers of the amphitheater, prompting a steady stream of tactical inquiries. Red addressed the logistical concerns one by one, allocating resource distribution and establishing new border patrols without hesitation.

Heavy gears ground together as the Rank 11 Brass Construct stood from the front row. “The four rival warlords are deleted. You hold undisputed control over the entire landmass. Do we mobilize the Vanguard to breach the neighboring continents?”

Red tapped the polished stone of the dais. A three-dimensional topographical map of the Seventeenth Continent materialized above the stage, highlighting massive swaths of gray, unmapped territory. “This landmass requires extensive repairs before we even consider a cross-server campaign.”

He paced slowly along the edge of the stage. “Until now, the high-tier deities hoarded the most valuable sectors. Minor pantheons lacked the manpower and capital to excavate the deep strata. Because of that imbalance, a massive percentage of this continent remains completely unexplored. If we dig down and stabilize the bedrock, the raw materials waiting in the dark will sustain our empire indefinitely.”

Swiping a hand through the holographic map, Red shattered the projection. Thirty-four mythic blueprints instantly replaced the globe. Glowing schematics of planetary defense rings, hyper-mana forges, and continental terraforming engines bathed the entire amphitheater in pale blue light.

Deities across all eighty seats leaned forward. Grips tightened on armrests, and the ambient mana in the room spiked wildly as the sheer scale of the technology registered.

“Every faction flying my banner receives direct access to these schematics.” Red stopped pacing and faced the assembly. “We will pool our laborers, share the resource nodes, and push this territory beyond its original programming. The Seventeenth Continent will become an industrial powerhouse capable of rivaling the summit.”

The Rank 10 War Deity shifted his massive, armored frame in the second row. “A reconstruction on that scale requires massive temporal investment. How long do we lock down the borders?”

“A decade.” Red adjusted his cuffs, the magma and starlight core pulsing steadily beneath the dark fabric of his suit. “If not longer. We do not strike outward until every single forge is operational and our defense grids are impenetrable.”

More hands raised across the curved rows. For the next several hours, Red fielded questions regarding blueprint integration, mana-forge placements, and the exact distribution of the newly acquired godless armies. He meticulously mapped out the foundation for a ten-year golden age, ensuring every single vassal understood their exact role in the coming industrial revolution.

Once the final logistical query was answered, Red clapped his hands. And the massive blueprints above the stage shrank and vanished into the system interface.

“Return to your territories,” Red ordered. “Begin the excavations immediately.”

He triggered the server command. Flashes of white light erupted across the amphitheater as the eighty gods were forcefully teleported back to their respective domains. The grinding gears and murmurs vanished, leaving the digital hall entirely empty.

Red dismissed the virtual instance and the green code dissolved, dropping him seamlessly back into the dark silence of his Void sanctuary.

He walked back to the obsidian throne and looked down at the physical map on his primary monitor. The decade of reconstruction had officially begun.

“This is the best way to keep them busy. I know they cannot betray me or harm me directly or indirectly, but they can harm each other. And although I have told them not to fight among themselves, border tensions and rights over resource findings is inevitable. To stop them… or a least, distract them from all that, I have to keep them busy until I decide on what I should do next.”

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