Chapter 689: Divinity
Chapter 689: 689: Divinity
“Revenge against the gods and the Heaven Demons…”
Redlion stared at Orson in terror.
He couldn’t believe it—this human, born in a backwater world, was speaking madness. This wasn’t arrogance. It was pure, unhinged hubris.
“What a joke. Even if you’re powerful, in the eyes of the gods, you’re just slightly stronger insects. You dare bark at divinity?”
A headless knight let out a twisted laugh. He hailed from the Wastelands World and, as a Lord-class adventurer, could live on even after losing his head—so long as his heart still beat.
Bradley snorted.
“And what do you think you are in our eyes?”
His blade flashed like lightning. With a single cleave, the knight was sliced into bloody chunks—dead beyond dead.
“You claim the gods will protect you…
But when your world burned,
Did they come?”
Drunken Dream’s voice rang out like a divine decree. Light radiated from his body, casting him in the image of a celestial avatar.
The words cut deep.
Even the most devout could not deny the truth.
Their homes had fallen to the Heaven Demons.
Their gods had remained silent.
They weren’t champions of the divine.
They were disposable.
Scavengers kept alive only to redirect destruction toward others.
Their families, their lovers, their friends—gone.
Nothing remained but memories… and regret.
“I can grant you death without pain.
Or a second chance at life.”
Orson smiled gently.
“Faith should not be your cage.
Why chain yourselves?”
Redlion stared into the swirling chaos around Orson and found himself wavering.
They all knew that luring Heaven Demons toward other worlds was a sin.
But the gods had refused to dirty their own hands.
They sent the dregs of the galaxy to do it for them.
“You deserve to be reborn.”
Orson raised one hand slowly.
Every adventurer present felt their hearts pulled toward him.
Even Orson himself was surprised.
His every movement seemed to carry a strange rhythm.
Peace.
Warmth.
Power.
An unspoken command laced in every gesture.
And the battlefield fell silent.
All eyes turned toward him—utterly still.
As if time itself had stopped.
Was this… divinity?
Orson frowned, whispering to himself.
He felt it—a subtle, terrifying touch of something greater.
A sense of control.
Not over actions, but over emotions.
“He’s affecting my mind.”
Usher backed away instantly, cold sweat beading across his forehead.
Redlion stared in awe.
This man wasn’t simply strong.
He radiated something deeper—something that soothed, calmed, commanded.
This wasn’t intimidation.
This was reverence.
“I think… I’ve just witnessed the birth of a new god.”
Redlion whispered.
He’d heard the legends—of adventurers who skipped becoming weapons of the gods, who instead became gods themselves.
He turned to see his fellow warriors, drained of will.
There was no more fight in them.
Whether Orson was divine or not didn’t matter.
Their lives were already in his hands.
“I… only wish that one day, I can return to my homeland. Please, keep your word.”
Redlion trembled as he stepped forward, offering the Abyss Node Device with both hands.
“As you wish.”
Orson smiled, accepting the artifact.
Whoosh—
Tens of thousands of adventurers dropped to one knee.
Oaths shot into the sky like meteors, forming a brilliant network of glowing lights across the sky—a stunning, unforgettable sight.
“Can I… really defeat someone like him?”
Usher muttered.
No one had ever doubted him.
He believed he could crush anyone.
But how could you crush a god?
“You can.
But this era belongs to me.”
Orson looked back at him and nodded.
“Then wait for me.
One day, you’ll meet my gaze as an equal.”
Usher clenched his fists, his pride burning.
He knew Orson was just speaking the truth.
And it stung.
Orson said nothing more.
He saw through Usher—saw the limitless potential buried beneath the arrogance.
He was shaping him.
Challenging him.
Pushing him forward.
Even in his previous life, Usher had always stood for the US faction when it mattered most.
And as long as that hadn’t changed, that was enough.
Had he been unworthy—
Orson would’ve killed him on Day One.
“Recruitment time!
Yo, fatass, look—some of these adventurers are human too.
And damn, some of them are fine!”
Madman’s eyes gleamed green.
He was already scanning through the newly surrendered adventurers—especially the ones who looked human.
Several female warriors from the Zichen World were particularly eye-catching—tall, gorgeous, refined.
They looked just like Earthlings.
Their world had been far more technologically advanced than Earth, until the Heaven Demons obliterated it two centuries ago.
“Deep cultural exchange is a must.
We conquered them—it’d be rude not to get to know them better.”
“…You’re not afraid of your girlfriend anymore?”
Bradley raised an eyebrow.
“You don’t get it.
I’m just talking about skill synergy.
You know—for better anti-god combat strategies.”
Madman strutted toward a curvy assassin-type Zichen adventurer and politely introduced himself.
The woman blushed and bowed in greeting.
Everyone else barely held back laughter.
Bradley couldn’t resist.
“Hey, uh… you do know Mabubu told me she’s a guy, right?”
“…What?”
Madman’s smile froze.
He stared at the beauty in horror.
The moment she opened her mouth, a deep, thunderous baritone emerged.
“Yes, sir. What can I do for you?”
“N-nothing.
You’re… tall. Real clean-looking.
Go on, keep doing your thing.”
Madman backed off so fast he nearly tripped.
Then he turned and grabbed Bradley by the collar.
“Why didn’t you warn me earlier, you bastard?!”
Bradley smirked, nose-picking.
“Already knew.
Turns out the Zichen evolved into a unisex race thousands of years ago. Technically… half man.”
“Wait—what about… reproduction?!”
Madman looked ready to faint.
“Tech-assisted.
They self-fertilize.
And they only fall in love with themselves.
So yeah, don’t worry about it.”
“Goddamn it!
Let’s go!
On to the next city!”
Madman cursed his luck and yanked Orson forward.
“Why am I being dragged into this again?”
Orson sighed.
“Also—how the hell do you know so much?”
Bradley blushed.
“Some Zichen adventurer messaged me earlier.
Said he liked my haircut.
I almost died.”
Orson facepalmed, grabbing Berenice—still hugging a bag of looted treasure—and called the group to move on toward Crylassa.
This time, Redlion led the charge, flanked by his elite force of over twenty thousand adventurers on their war beasts.
The rest remained to defend Ignarion.
“What a monster of an archer… No wonder he one-shotted Nightblade.”
Redlion watched in awe as Usher tore through the front lines.
Lesser Heaven Demons didn’t scare him.
But when they came in tens of thousands?
Even Domain Lords would struggle to survive.
Yet none of that mattered to Usher.
Black arrows exploded mid-air, raining death.
He was a god of slaughter—unreachable, untouchable.
“How strong is he… really?”
Redlion turned toward Orson.
Looking at him was like staring into a bottomless abyss.
And yet, Usher had willingly taken the role of his support.
Just how powerful must Orson truly be?
Could they…
Actually crush all nine Watcher Cities?
Usher broke through the Rift’s mouth, blasting through everything in his path—
Just as the Abyss regional channel lit up with alerts:
“Crylassa’s divine legions are en route! Where are the intruders?”
“I am Commander Mechronis. Redlion, you coward—how dare you flee?!”
“Solareth’s Kraken Corps is arriving. Let’s see where these ants think they’re going. Crylassa does not welcome galactic refugees!”
In the distance, a blaze of light lit the sky.
Roars of beasts echoed through the dark.
Heaven Demons near the exit were vaporized in seconds.
Emerging from the shadows—
Was the incoming reinforcement army.