(And for this chapter. My fanfic has officially crossed the 700k word mark. Which makes the average word count 3.84K per chapter. Yay. I love you, my dear readers, for continuing to read. Mua:з)

Alex walked down the long corridor alongside Buddha, heading to the observation balcony where the others were already waiting. Yet his thoughts were far from the present moment, focused instead on how to bring his Arena System to life. If Zeus ultimately declined, Alex had already prepared two backup plans.

As a last resort, he would head to Runeterra, where he would either politely request—or forcibly obtain—information from those who had created a similar system. In the most extreme case, he was prepared to construct an artificial dungeon, akin to the one in Orario, where gods formed familias and recruited adventurers. Both options seemed feasible and practical in this world. Alex already knew how to create a dungeon, but he still needed to figure out how to organize an arena like the one in Runeterra.

Pulling out his notebook, he began jotting down ideas as he walked.

Buddha, silent until now, noticed Alex engrossed in his notes. Without hesitation, he leaned over to glance at the notebook to understand what Alex was so focused on. His eyes scanned several points before stopping at a plan for creating an artificial dungeon populated with monsters.

Buddha paused, stroking his chin thoughtfully as he read further. He was particularly intrigued by the question of where Alex intended to source monsters for the dungeon and what role the gods would play in the system. Then, he came across a description of the familia and blessing system.

Buddha quickly realized that this method could be an effective way to bridge the gap between gods and mortals. Adding an arena and rankings for the top familias could open up new avenues for prestige and influence. For a fleeting moment, even Buddha was tempted to create his own familia, but he immediately brushed off the idea, citing his natural laziness.

“A-chan, your plans are insane,” Buddha said with a faint smile, his gaze still fixed on the notes. “But I can see their deeper purpose. You want to give gods and mortals a chance to understand each other.”

Alex looked up from his notes, meeting Buddha’s eyes, and nodded. He had no intention of hiding his intentions. To him, it was clear: if even one god supported humanity, it could spark monumental change.

“You’re right. But not everyone will be pleased,” Alex replied, tapping the pen against his chin thoughtfully. “For example, the followers of Poseidon, Hades, or even Shiva’s family might vehemently oppose it. Their hatred for humans runs deep, and it won’t simply vanish, even after the deaths of their gods.”

Buddha understood Alex’s point. He didn’t need to meet these followers to know that their animosity toward humanity was deeply ingrained. This was especially true for Poseidon’s followers, whose hatred for Alex and his allies was palpable.

This cycle of hatred seemed almost unbreakable. Alex despised Olympus for Adam’s death, Zeus hated Alex for the loss of his family, and Shiva’s followers undoubtedly craved revenge for their lord.

“And how do you plan to convince them to accept your proposal?” Buddha asked, clasping his hands behind his head as he continued walking with his usual nonchalant demeanor.

Alex paused momentarily, as if weighing his answer, before speaking:

“I don’t know yet. But I’m sure of one thing: if you don’t try, nothing changes. Sometimes, all it takes is one chance to turn everything around.”

Alex continued tapping his pen against his chin, lost in thought. The only realistic option he considered was to resurrect the fallen gods. To do so, he would need to descend into the deepest parts of Helheim. For him, this didn’t seem like a problem. Moreover, the depths of Helheim might hold not only the souls of gods but also Adam and the two Valkyries who had perished in the early rounds.

“Just descend into the depths of Helheim, retrieve their souls, and bring them back to life,” Alex murmured, slipping his notebook into his pocket.

Buddha nodded, contemplating Alex’s words. This plan could help resolve the conflict between mortals and gods. But then it struck him: how was Alex planning to descend into the deepest parts of Helheim, a place where even gods dare not tread? Moreover, most gods simply didn’t have the means to do so. Now Alex was claiming he could enter and retrieve the souls of the fallen.

Buddha began to suspect that there was more to Alex’s plans than met the eye. The puzzle started to fit together: creating dimensions for pantheons, separating worlds, detailed knowledge of the Outer Gods. All of this was beyond the reach of even the strongest mortal.

He stopped and thoughtfully asked,

“You’re not a human, but you’re not a god either, right?”

Alex froze, turned, and looked at Buddha with a faint, almost mischievous smile. He had never claimed to be a human, nor had he ever claimed to be a god. Perhaps these were just assumptions made by Buddha and others based on the fact that Alex was Adam’s brother.

“Why such conclusions?” Alex asked with interest, observing Buddha’s reaction.

Buddha placed his hands behind his back and spoke,

“All your plans, your knowledge… This is something that goes beyond the capabilities of a mere mortal or even a god. You speak of Outer Gods, beings no one has ever heard of. So, who are you?”

Alex’s eyes gleamed with surprise, but he quickly regained his composure. If Buddha had figured it out, then Brunhilde had probably started noticing the oddities too. Alex understood that this lazy god was not as simple as he seemed. Buddha, having attained divinity through his own efforts, couldn’t possibly be foolish. His inaction was merely a facade, hiding a sharp mind and the ability to see the essence of things.

Buddha gazed intently at Alex, waiting for an answer. He had long since noticed that his eyes could not see Alex’s future, nor could they trace the movements of his soul. Alex seemed like a being who lived only in the here and now. For Buddha, this was a paradox: even beings like Odin or Zeus were not beyond his perception.

“I never said I was a human. And I’ve never claimed to be a god,” Alex replied with a playful smile, signaling that the answer was still far from revealed.

Buddha froze, stunned by Alex’s revelation. He realized that Alex had indeed never called himself either a human or a god. The only thing he had claimed was that he was Adam’s brother. Everything else had been speculation based on that fact. But Alex’s words dispelled all doubts: he was neither of those things. But then, who was he?

“Then who are you?” Buddha asked, gazing piercingly at Alex.

“I am a demon. More precisely, the Demon King. And if you want to be more specific—I am the first demon, created by the Creator,” Alex answered calmly, dropping the bombshell of his revelation on Buddha.

Buddha’s mouth hung open wide, like a fish washed up on the shore. He couldn’t say a word in his astonishment. The thought that Alex was the first demon seemed absurd, as there was nothing about him that would associate him with a demonic essence. Subconsciously, Buddha raised his gaze to Alex’s forehead, trying to spot horns or something similar.

Alex noticed the look, and his lips quivered as he struggled to suppress a laugh.

“You can stop looking. I don’t have horns. Are all demons in this world supposed to have them?” Alex said dryly, looking at Buddha with an empty, indifferent expression.

Buddha blushed slightly, realizing his foolishness. However, his curiosity only grew. Alex was claiming to be the first demon, created by the Creator himself—the same one mentioned in ancient legends as the great creator of the world.

“The Creator you’re talking about… is it the one? With a capital ‘C’?” Buddha asked, frowning.

“Yep, the very same,” Alex confirmed with a shrug.

Buddha tiredly ran his hand over his face, unsure how to respond. On the one hand, it was shocking. On the other, it was funny. Alex didn’t behave at all like what Buddha expected the Demon King to act.

Moreover, he reminded him of Brunhilde, only in male form.

And that strange obsession with weapons… Buddha couldn’t help but wonder why Alex lacked any trace of traditional demonic essence. But then a sly smile appeared on his face. It was too obvious to hide.

Buddha knew how close Alex and Brunhilde were, and he fully understood how terrifying she could be when angry. That thought made him suppress a laugh. Buddha looked up at Alex, trying not to show his amusement, but his smile still slipped through.

Alex furrowed his brow, noticing this. He didn’t like the way Buddha was smiling, like he was plotting something.

“A-chan, does Buru-chan know who you really are?” Buddha asked, barely holding back laughter.

Alex stared at Buddha’s grin and immediately realized he was scheming something. Upon hearing the question, he guessed why Buddha was smiling, and his face instantly twisted as if he had eaten a whole lemon. The situation with Brunhilde was extremely delicate, and Alex had been postponing an honest conversation with her. His only hope lay with Völundr—Alex was counting on her to help Brunhilde understand why he had kept the truth hidden. But Buddha’s smirking smile spoke otherwise: Brunhilde would surely be furious once everything came to light.

“I’m relying on Völundr. Maybe she’ll understand. Maybe,” Alex said dryly, trying to hide his growing nervousness.

Buddha had a hard time containing his laughter, but he walked up to Alex and patted him on the shoulder. Alex’s expression was both amusing and familiar: he looked like an ordinary guy afraid of facing the wrath of his girlfriend.

“Listen, I’m not going to help you with this. I’m scared of Buru-chan’s anger too, so don’t even think about dragging me into your quarrels,” Buddha said, continuing to pat Alex on the shoulder. Finally, he added in a serious tone: “This is your battle, my friend.”

Alex looked at Buddha with a dry expression, full of resentment, as if he had been betrayed. But Buddha only smirked and, ignoring the look, continued walking ahead with a light stride.

Alex sighed heavily, pulled a wooden stick from his inventory, and stared at it before looking back at Buddha, who was walking away. He seriously considered whether to hit him right now or wait for him to make more foolish mistakes so he could get revenge all at once. After a brief moment of thought, Alex put the stick back into his inventory.

“Alright, I’ll wait. Let him mess up a bit more first,” he muttered under his breath.

Catching up to Buddha, Alex began walking beside him, chatting about trivial matters. They smoothly made their way to the balcony, where they were already expected.

On the railing sat GIR, MIMI, and Stitch. Nearby, Göll was chatting with Rebecca, who was lazily leaning on the railing, her sniper rifle resting against it. Brunhilde was beside Rebecca, attentively watching the arena.

“What did we miss?” Alex asked as he approached the railing and stood between Rebecca and Brunhilde.

Alex glanced at the arena, which now resembled an ancient Japanese city. If he remembered correctly, this was an exact replica of Kyoto during the Bakumatsu period. Looking closer, Alex noticed two figures on the main street: Yorihichi and Susanoo.

He calculated that the time spent talking to Zeus and his conversation with Buddha had been just enough to return right at the beginning of the fight.

“Susanoo and Yorihichi just appeared, the duel will begin soon,” Brunhilde explained, glancing away from the arena and looking at Alex.

Rebecca lazily leaned against Alex, watching the arena with a tired look in her eyes. Right now, she just wanted to rest before the action began. Waiting was the dullest part of her job, and this wait had dragged on for far too long.

Alex, quickly scanning the surroundings, noticed that Odin was still absent. Even Loki was missing. Perhaps he was still recovering from his “dose of positivity” or was with Odin, waiting for the right moment to initiate their joint plan.

Taking out a cigarette, Alex lit it, deciding to take a moment to think about the current situation. His gaze flicked to the clone who had taken the form of Yorihichi Tsugikuni. He stood on the main street of Kyoto, facing Susanoo. Alex guessed that the fight wouldn’t last long, and that Odin would probably intervene at the very last moment when the outcome was already decided.

In the arena, Yorihichi stood motionless, staring at Susanoo with an empty gaze. Meanwhile, Susanoo studied his opponent with genuine interest. He had heard that Yorihichi was considered the founder of an entire branch of kenjutsu, and his style was the progenitor of many others. As a sword enthusiast and master, Susanoo was eager to see this legendary style in action.

“Your name is Yorihichi Tsugikuni, right? I hear you were the progenitor of the kenjutsu style, dating back to the Sengoku period,” Susanoo began with clear interest.

In reality, he wasn’t just interested—he was literally overflowing with curiosity. Meeting a swordsman who had founded an entire school of martial arts was a true stroke of luck for him.

Yorihichi, being Alex’s clone, tried to stay in character, but he struggled. He wasn’t sure how to behave properly in this role, as there was very little information about the real Yorihichi. Instead of answering immediately, he remained silent, thinking about how best to speak while staying in character.

Susanoo watched him closely and realized that his opponent might prefer to act rather than talk.

“I don’t consider myself the progenitor. My style was created solely for hunting Oni. All the other styles that appeared later are the result of the work and effort of those who created them,” Yorihichi said in a calm, almost emotionless voice.

Yorihichi’s words earned Susanoo’s respect. His eyes lit up. Before him was an opponent who wasn’t trying to claim credit for others’ achievements, but instead, acknowledged the efforts of those who developed the art of swordsmanship. Susanoo understood this approach, as he himself had spent a long time studying the styles of other masters to create his own.

“Still, I want to see what your style can do. Show me, Yorihichi,” Susanoo said with a fiery look in his eyes.

Yorihichi continued to look at him with a blank stare, pondering how to react to such an opponent. The clone wasn’t particularly eager to fight with a swordsman obsessed with battle. Alex, watching from the balcony, breathed a sigh of relief, glad he had sent his clone. He could not stand battle fanatics. Defeat one of them, and they would chase you across the universe for revenge.

Meanwhile, in the arena, Yorihichi assumed a combat stance, signaling that he was ready to begin. Susanoo grinned widely, burning with anticipation to see his opponent’s style in action.

“Breath of Flame: Wandering Flames,” Yorihichi quietly murmured, initiating his attack.

Yorihichi made a swift lunge towards Susanoo, leaving behind trails of flame as if he were a burst of fire. Susanoo’s eyes widened in surprise—the speed of the attack was staggering. As soon as Yorihichi appeared before him, he vanished, instantly moving into Susanoo’s blind spot. Appearing behind him, Yorihichi delivered a lightning-fast horizontal strike aimed at his neck.

Susanoo’s sharp instincts saved him at the last moment. He managed to dodge, but Yorihichi’s blade left behind a fiery trail that shook with power. Landing right at Susanoo’s feet, Yorihichi didn’t give him any time to recover.

“Breath of Flame: Rising Flame!” he murmured quietly, delivering a vertical strike, aiming to break through Susanoo’s defense.

Susanoo managed to raise his blade in time to block, but the force of the strike forced his arm to tremble. Yorihichi’s blade traced a circle, creating a fiery halo around them. The spectators in the stands watched in awe. Every strike from Yorihichi, every technique, left a burning trace in its wake.

Among the samurai watching the fight, the most excited was Okita Soji. He was ready to jump into the fight at any moment, had Isami not held him back.

“Impressive,” Susanoo said thoughtfully, watching Yorihichi. “I never thought I’d see such a unique sword style. Is this something you came up with yourself?”

Yorihichi slightly shook his head.

“This is not my original style. It’s a legacy that was mastered by those who came after me,” he replied calmly.

Susanoo froze, realizing what he had just heard. This style wasn’t something Yorihichi himself had created, but rather, it was a product of the hard work and efforts of subsequent generations. This gesture of respect for his legacy sparked even more interest in Susanoo.

Not willing to back down, Susanoo launched his own attack. His blade swiftly moved toward Yorihichi, aiming directly for his heart. Yorihichi calmly assumed a stance for a counterattack.

“Breath of the Sun: Scorching Sun!” his voice rang out.

As Susanoo’s blade almost reached Yorihichi, he responded with a powerful circular strike, the flames from it scattering around like a raging hurricane. Their blades collided with crushing force, and the spectators held their breath, watching every movement.

For a moment, the battle shifted to an equal exchange of blows. Both were looking for weaknesses in each other’s defense. However, Susanoo managed to find an opening and delivered a thrust, aiming directly for Yorihichi’s chest. When his blade pierced the target, the crowd held their breath…

But Yorihichi’s body dissolved like smoke.

“Breath of the Sun: Parhelion Rainbow,” a voice sounded from above Susanoo.

Instinctively, he looked up and saw that Yorihichi was already in the air, preparing for a new strike.

“Breath of the Sun: Flaming Chariot!” Yorihichi said, bringing his sword down from above.

The blazing sword, like a fiery chariot, raced toward Susanoo, leaving behind a trail of fire that sliced through the air.

Yorihichi performed a graceful somersault, striking from above. Susanoo managed to raise his defense just in time to block the attack, but the force of the blow still made him retreat several steps. Yorihichi, using the recoil, landed at a distance and immediately transitioned into a new attack.

“Breath of Water: Dragon of Change,” Yorihichi quietly said, tightening his grip on the katana.

With every step he took, a water ribbon began to form behind him, quickly transforming into a powerful dragon twisting in the air. The closer Yorihichi got to Susanoo, the clearer the shape of the water creature became, surrounding him with a dangerous aura.

Susanoo’s eyes widened in surprise—this was already the third style Yorihichi had used, and each one was different from the last. Susanoo quickly raised his sword, wrapped in protective cloth, preparing to deflect the attack.

When Yorihichi reached him, the water dragon descended upon Susanoo’s defense. Each wave of the attack forced Susanoo to retreat, creating the sensation that he was facing an unstoppable water flow, each strike attempting to consume him. To the spectators in the stands, it appeared as though a giant water dragon was relentlessly pursuing Susanoo.

“How many styles does Yorihichi know?” Brunhild asked, turning to Alex with curiosity.

Her question immediately caught the attention of everyone, including Buddha, who was watching the scene with evident interest.

Alex thoughtfully stroked his chin, as if recalling something important.

“Well, about fourteen,” he replied, holding up two fingers as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “The first one is his original style, and the other thirteen developed from it.”

“Brother Alex, do you know these styles?” Göll asked curiously, tilting her head.

“Kind of,” Alex replied nonchalantly. “The main thing in these styles is breathing correctly and knowing how to execute the movements.”

Brunhild shot Alex a blank but clearly annoyed look. She felt like he was talking complete nonsense. The thought of throwing him into a crowd of samurai and seeing what happened was extremely tempting. She knew those lunatics would gladly chase Alex to the ends of the earth to teach him a lesson for such statements.

Sensing something off in her gaze, Alex resorted to his usual tactic: “If I don’t see it, it doesn’t concern me.”

“A-chan, if you say something like that among swordsmen, they’ll want to crucify you,” Buddha said cheerfully, already imagining the scene.

“They won’t catch me if I run,” Alex retorted with a smirk. “As I always say, fast feet fear nothing.”

With those words, he gave a thumbs-up, emphasizing his confidence.

Rebecca laughed at Alex’s joke and playfully slapped him on the arm. Buddha wanted to object, but, imagining the scene of Alex running away from a group of samurai while laughing loudly, he also burst out laughing.

Brunhild just rolled her eyes and, without thinking, repeated Rebecca’s gesture, slapping Alex on the arm as well. Alex puffed up, clearly displeased that he had been “punished” twice for telling the truth instead of making a joke.

“See, even when I’m serious, you all still think it’s a joke,” Alex muttered, rubbing his arm, but quickly shifted his attention back to the fight.

Yorihichi continued his pressure on Susanoo, using the power of the water dragon. Their exchange of blows was turning the streets into ruins. Susanoo barely had time to block or dodge the relentless attacks, as if he were fighting against an unstoppable flow of water.

Finally, finishing another series of attacks, Yorihichi delivered a powerful strike that sent Susanoo flying a considerable distance. The god slid across the ground, leaving a deep mark behind him, before finally stopping, feeling the weight and consequences of the blow.

“That was amazing! No, it was just freaking awesome!” Susanoo exclaimed with genuine admiration, brushing the dust off his clothes. His eyes sparkled with interest. “I never thought fencing could be like this. Especially that water dragon that appeared with your attacks. What’s the name of your style? And what was that technique called?”

“This is the Breath of Water style. The technique is called ‘Dragon of Change,'” Yorihichi answered calmly, returning his katana to a battle stance.

“I see… What a deep name,” Susanoo said thoughtfully, stroking his chin. “A dragon that brings change… like a raging river that changes its course.”

Yorihichi and Alex, watching from the stands, were both taken aback. Neither of them expected Susanoo to find such a philosophical meaning in the attack.

Finishing his thoughts, Susanoo shifted into an attack. He disappeared from his spot and instantly reappeared in front of Yorihichi, raising his blade for a strike. Without wasting time, Yorihichi activated his technique.

“Breath of the Sun: Scorching Crimson Reflection,” he muttered, blocking Susanoo’s attack while simultaneously launching a counterattack.

Yorihichi’s katana made two swift horizontal strikes. The first parried Susanoo’s attack, and the second struck his clothing, leaving a clean cut.

Susanoo barely managed to react, but before he could launch his counterattack, Yorihichi struck again.

“Breath of the Sun: Waltz,” Yorihichi said, making a lightning-fast lunge forward.

He delivered a powerful vertical strike from above. Susanoo raised his blade to block the attack. Their swords clashed, and a battle of strength ensued. Yorihichi hovered in the air, applying pressure, but Susanoo stubbornly held his ground, refusing to give up.

Yorihichi quickly changed tactics, increasing the pressure.

“Breath of the Sun: Blue Skies,” he whispered, transitioning into a new attack.

The force of the strike intensified, and even Susanoo could feel his defense begin to crack under the onslaught.

Before Susanoo could react, Yorihichi’s body swiftly spun 360 degrees, finishing the attack with a powerful vertical strike. The blow once again sent Susanoo flying backward. However, this time, the scabbard of his sword couldn’t withstand the force—cracks ran along its length, and it shattered completely.

Susanoo took a few steps back, glanced at the broken scabbard, and then smiled as he looked at Yorihichi.

“I thought the day would never come when I’d have to use this sword again,” he said proudly. “But against a swordsman like you, it would be a sin not to draw my Onikiri-Ame-no-Murakumo. It would be disrespectful to keep it sheathed in front of you.”

Susanoo raised his sword, showing it to everyone present. The blade shone, as if it were imbued with the light of the stars.

“You have a fine sword,” Yorihichi commented evenly. “But it was a mistake to show it. I have a friend who really values good weapons. Now he’s sure to try and steal it.”

Susanoo froze, shifting his gaze from Yorihichi to his sword, then back to Yorihichi.

“Ha-ha, are you serious? Wait… What do you mean ‘steal’?” he asked with genuine surprise.

A tense silence hung in the air. All the swordsmen were admiring Susanoo’s blade, but Yorihichi’s words had made them freeze. Alex, standing on the balcony, felt a cold sweat run down his back. Brunhilde stared at him with an intense, unblinking gaze, as though trying to burn a hole through his soul.

“Did you really plan to steal Susanoo’s sword?” she asked in a cold tone.

“I wouldn’t say ‘plan’… More like I would temporarily borrow it for an indefinite period,” Alex answered, his face expressionless.

Brunhilde only sighed deeply and closed her eyes, placing her hand to her forehead, as if trying to get rid of a headache.

“We have a serious battle coming up, and he’s thinking about how to rob the gods,” she muttered, not removing her hand from her face.

Seeing Brunhilde’s state, Alex simply placed his hands on her shoulders to try and calm her down. He wasn’t to blame for the fact that there was so much interesting weaponry in this world that he wanted to steal. Brunhilde felt the massage but didn’t push him away.

Buddha, observing the situation, shot Alex a look that screamed, “Weakling.” Rebecca, on the other hand, was laughing loudly, almost falling off the balcony railing she was sitting on.

“If you need help, I can assist!” she cheerfully offered, clutching her stomach from laughing. “If the god won’t give up the sword, I’ll just shoot him.”

“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of,” Alex muttered quietly, rolling his eyes, but he deliberately ignored Rebecca’s suggestion.

Meanwhile, Susanoo was still trying to process Yorihichi’s words. He stared at him in confusion, clearly not fully understanding what ‘steal the sword’ meant. The audience in the stands couldn’t believe what they had just heard either. The question arose in their minds: who was this madman who would dare to steal a weapon from a god?

The answer was simple: all one had to do was turn their head toward the balcony where Alex was standing to see the one who could truly do it. However, Yorihichi never named the “culprit,” leaving everyone puzzled.

To be continued.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep