Silmaria Continent, Valkaris Empire.
The Valkaris Imperial Palace was already in a state of utter ruin.
Debris from collapsed buildings was messily strewn about the capital.
Most of the defenses in the medium-sized cities had been shattered as well.
It was quite rare to find a location still holding its shape.
In the eastern outer territory, Valhail.
A red-haired man was gripping a spear.
Blood was stuck thickly to the spearhead. The man, Argyle, had a chilling intensity in his eyes.
Crackle… Crunch…
A gigantic beast resembling a black wolf was drooling.
Thanks to the power of the “Goddess of the Dead Bones,” Angelica, his magical and physical abilities were noticeably enhanced.
Berserk.
All monsters and beasts on the land Angelica stepped upon had their wildness and magical properties exponentially strengthened.
“Argyle… Uh, what are you thinking of doing?”
Argyle frowned at the words of a middle-aged man behind him, drenched in fear.
What else? We fight!
The wolf-type monster, Magef, charged forward aggressively.
All the magical power he could muster was gathered in Argyle’s spear.
Kwahhh!
With a strong stomp, he thrust the spear forward. A fierce whirlwind whipped around him.
He swung the spear, aiming for death.
At 29 years old, this was the spear he had wielded since he was 9.
Even as a joke, he couldn’t claim to be talented.
He had just worked his butt off.
From a lowly soldier to a white commander.
While others said he succeeded, he knew best.
His own martial prowess wasn’t the sole reason for his promotion.
It was survival.
And he had helped his soldiers survive as well.
This survival instinct was what mattered most.
The red energy gathered in Argyle’s outstretched spear burst forth like a gale.
Kwahahahahah!
The only fortunate thing was that during this sudden calamity, he had exponentially improved his skills after narrowly escaping life and death several times.
With the red whirlwind he created, now at the master level, Argyle pierced through Magef’s body.
Magef’s massive form slowly fell forward.
Argyle narrowed his brown eyes as he approached the corpse of Magef.
“….”
To be precise, he was walking towards his subordinate who lay behind Magef.
Argyle’s brow furrowed tightly.
He spotted the subordinate who had called him captain for nearly five years.
A man whose lower body was nonexistent—only his torso and head remained intact.
Argyle placed his hand on the ground.
Ku…uung.
A faint tremor from the earth flowed into his palm.
The subtle tremor of the land flowed into his palm.
There were a few more monsters nearby.
If we delay any longer, more of them will come crashing in.
Argyle slowly raised his head.
“Let’s get out of here quickly.”
The survivors moved on, leaving the corpses behind.
To survive.
*
Geheregen Continent.
Astes Empire.
Duke Yuma headed to the Temple of the God of War.
A massive temple.
The ends of the pillars supporting the temple resembled swords and spearheads.
Since a day prior, he had instructed Royan to ensure that no one else could enter the temple except for the people Yuma had gathered for half a day, so the Temple of the God of War was quite empty at present.
Creeeak…
Yuma swung open the entrance to the temple.
A corridor so huge it was overwhelming.
And at the end stood a single statue.
“….”
The corner of Yuma’s mouth twisted slightly.
He was momentarily speechless seeing the colossal statue made in his likeness. There was no shame involved; he was just caught off guard by how well it was crafted.
The massive black statue nobly gazed down at him.
It was clear that it hadn’t been thrown together; it was the handiwork of a master craftsman.
As he stared at the statue for a moment, Yuma turned around.
He could distinctly feel a gaze on him from behind.
The person standing behind him was the Holy Maiden, Ermel.
Ermel’s silver eyes were piercing through Yuma.
“You’ve come. God.”
Yuma nodded.
“I heard you’ve been working hard. You’ve done well.”
Ermel beamed with a smile.
“It was nothing much.”
While he often received casual speech from the more free-spirited Hestia, Ermel was now twenty-six years old.
“I simply spread the grace of the God you opened wide.”
The grace of the gods.
Yuma chuckled lightly at her very maidenly words.
“Is everyone else gathered?”
The Holy Maiden nodded.
“Everyone is here.”
At the back of the Temple of the God of War.
Even if this place was made to honor him, he didn’t want to explain in the temple’s main hall where the statue, looking more divine than himself, stood.
“Let’s go.”
“Yes.”
Yuma and Ermel stepped forward simultaneously.
Yuma stood at the platform behind the temple. Below him, various races were gathered.
Lycanthropes, Elves.
And Celestial Beings.
Whether the Celestial Beings, belonging to the heavenly realm, could fully accept his divine power as strength was still uncertain, but he needed to comprehend all the peculiarities of the military forces he could use.
I needed to identify all the peculiarities of the available troops.
Creak…
Yuma’s footsteps echoed through the Temple of the God of War.
Yuma felt the gaze of everyone lined up below the platform turn toward him.
Bell, Cloney, Hestia.
And Bell’s older brother, Haven.
Some familiar faces were also present.
Ella Brighton, the third legion commander of the Empire.
Yuma’s eyes landed on unexpected characters he didn’t anticipate seeing here.
A wizard from the Mullen Tribe, Tisha, who crossed the sea after receiving an urgent message from Hestia caught his attention.
The other races weren’t exactly few in number either.
The Great Angel Garenmoon and the Valkyrie Brenhild, the two arms of the Celestial Sovereign Arten, stood before him. The number of Celestial Beings lined up behind them approached thirty.
Sending thirty fighting Celestial Beings meant that Arten was using his full power. It was a solid sign of trust in Yuma and faith in what Yuma had accomplished.
Next to the Celestial Beings were even more diverse races.
The High Elf Luine, who was a grand spirit master, and elves who achieved the pinnacle of Grande Sword Master lay behind an elf named Roseviche.
The elf troops numbered two thousand.
There were around three thousand Lycanthropes led by the great warrior Gale.
This wasn’t a situation where they just had to save a city on the main continent of Gehergen; it was a situation where they had to save another continent.
From that perspective, the troops could hardly be called numerous. But Yuma thought the numerical issue would be addressed over time, considering the troops were hastily gathered.
Yuma slowly opened his mouth.
“Listen carefully.”
The densely gathered people and the various races listened intently to Yuma’s words, not even daring to breathe.
“Right now, five gods are invading the Intermediate World.”
Yuma stood tall and continued, scanning each race focused on his words.
“They are invading this place, the Intermediate World, to destroy it and raise their divine power while recovering it.”
There was no need to awaken divine power in his body. The faith gleaming in the eyes of those who looked at Yuma remained unshaken. The sight of Yuma’s might had strongly imprinted itself in their minds.
“We need to save two places. The first place is the Silmaria Continent. Since it’s almost directly opposite this Gehergen Continent, I’ll be heading there as quickly as possible, leading only the minimal force.”
Yuma continued speaking.
“We need you to arrive as quickly as possible. Of course, I might be able to wrap things up a bit before you get here. If that happens, I’ll contact you right away.”
Yuma finished his speech.
Just then, someone raised their hand high.
“Yuma-sama!”
Yuma’s gaze turned towards the source of the shout.
It was none other than Ella Brighton, the 3rd Legion Commander of the Empire.
“What is the purpose of this mission?”
Yuma chuckled lightly at her bold question.
It was a valid point that needed to be clearly addressed.
“The annihilation of all enemies.”
The fierce wind gradually died down.
“I will kill all five gods of the Divine Realm who have invaded this Intermediate World, where I exist as a Deity.”
A declaration.
The proclamation of the only god of the Intermediate World.
*
Angelica, the Goddess of the Dead Bones, stood before another god.
It was Gulan, the God of All Monsters and Alchemy.
A god who had invaded the Silmaria Continent alongside Angelica, and who also had a grudge with Yuma regarding the allied Rasenn Kingdom of the Astes Empire.
Angelica furrowed her brow and spoke.
“You didn’t return to the Divine Realm either, did you?”
The massive golden golem-shaped god, Gulan, nodded heavily.
“…Yeah, it’s been completely sealed off. The passage.”
Angelica gritted her teeth.
“The God of War… It seems that little brat, who just became a god from being human, has the audacity to try and kill us… Are you just going to sit back and take it? Huh?”
Angelica stomped her foot hard.
On the floor lay a mat depicting the faces of people, deconstructed as if flattened out.
Creating space from human skin and bones was one of Angelica’s gruesome hobbies.
The place where the two were conversing had no living soul in the Imperial Palace of the Valkares Empire.
Gulan looked at Angelica.
“Do you have the confidence to kill that God of War, Angelica?”
“Golem, this isn’t about whether I have confidence or not, you know that, right? Huh?”
The two gods, who had been engaging in unnecessary mind games, suddenly froze in place.
“….”
“….”
A bone-chilling breeze.
It was a gaze.
A gaze searching for them from very far away.
Even if that brat had become a god, it had been ages since they had cloaked their exact location with the divine barrier.
That gaze was directed at the barrier, watching it.
A low voice echoed in the minds of the two gods.
[Wait.]
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