Diss Ascends to Godhood!

The more the decaying deity struggled, the tighter the chains of Order bound around Him drew, and the fiercer the Flame of Order—burning with their very lives—flared. In this monumental upheaval of changing eras, the Church of Order, from top to bottom, responded in a manner that was simple and uniform. Namely... dragging you down into the grave with them! No twists, no complexities; the entire church and the people within it were like the mechanical templates deities used to answer believers' prayers. Yet undeniably, this was the most cost-effective method. Thick chains snapped continuously, but soon a second and third would instantly take their place; no sooner had one patch of flames extinguished than an even more magnificent black fire surged back. Scorching waves of heat melted everything around them. From the cavernous rock ceiling above, a rain of magma fell, shimmering and crystalline where it mingled with quartz. It was beautiful, yet it wrought a dead zone across a vast expanse. Diss reached out and opened the book before him. The God of Principles' notebook shone, casting open one of the world's most exquisitely sophisticated defensive barriers, warding off every assault from the outside. The Scythe of War began to sway back and forth. Ever since Karen had seen the God of War slumbering on the first floor of the pyramid, the scythe had grown restless. Now, it yearned even more to genuinely confront a deity and embrace divine war. Diss glanced at it, and the Scythe of War immediately fell quiet. Old Hoffen's figure emerged from the book. He glanced at the now obedient Scythe of War, then looked at Diss. "A supreme divine artifact with such high integrity possesses an unfathomably keen perception. It has probably already sensed just how powerful you will be once you ascend to godhood." Diss said nothing, merely watching ahead in silence. Since arriving at the crypt once more, the only time he had spoken was when he had joined the five gravestone figures in reciting their prayer of Order—he truly couldn't help himself. Compared to Old Hoffen's habit of constantly droning on about "my grandson Karen," Diss was already exceptionally understated. Old Hoffen sighed. "If the one hidden deep below is the true master, then no matter how weak and feeble He might be right now, He is still very likely a chief-god-level being. "The branch gods of Order all perished taking down those chief gods with them. Diss, have you prepared yourself for that as well?" "Are you afraid?" "Ah, what I mean is, even if this happened too suddenly to invite our grandson Karen back to cook us one last meal, there's still a little time left, isn't there? Send him word so he can hurry over. At least you could see him one last time." Diss shook his head. "He is very busy right now. We shouldn't disturb him over this." "No, Diss, do you have absolute confidence you can walk away unscathed, or is it that since you're about to die anyway, seeing him would only hurt more, so you'd rather not?" "What do you think?" "Does what I think even matter?" Old Hoffen sat down and took out a golden leaf, intending to write a letter to Karen. Yet after sitting there for a long time, he hadn't penned a single word. In the end, all he could do was sigh: "Sigh, there really isn't much to write, nor much to say. Suddenly I feel that if I just pass away like this, so be it." "When the God of Principles fell, I didn't see you feeling this melancholy." "The Lord is the Lord, and I am myself. In the past, I felt there was no distinction between us, but after seeing my Lord perish before my eyes, I suddenly realized the sun still rises tomorrow as usual." "I don't know whether I will walk out of here alive today," Diss said, "nor do I care much. Even setting aside my relationship with Karen, this is simply what I ought to do right now." At that moment, an eye appeared at the deity's chest. The deity wailed in agony: "Crypt... you broke your word!" Promises had an expiration date as well; two eras was more than enough time to spoil nearly everything in the world. The deity's divine body began to collapse. That suddenly appearing eye was like a terrifying vortex, shredding everything around it to pieces. "Not good! We've been deceived!" "There are two deities here!" "How many layers does the God of the Crypt's shell have?!" The gravestone that had previously urged Diss to leave, telling him to wait in line to die, shouted to him: "Go alert the Temple! Hurry!" Diss remained seated where he was, motionless. Summoning reinforcements at this point was already too late. Not only were the gravestones of the Temple of Order scattered everywhere, watching over the hidden gods with the barest minimum of forces so that none could be spared on short notice, but the time required to mobilize and deploy them would be more than enough for the puppet demon gods that had fallen from the ceiling cavern to harvest enough crypt creatures for a blood sacrifice to the God of the Crypt. Hidden gods were different from returning gods; the former had no membrane blocking them. As long as a hidden god awakened, they could immediately feed to restore their withered, decaying divine form. The deity that had appeared first turned out to be a scapegoat; its demise dragged the five gravestones down with it to their end. *Buzz!* The dust settled, and the continuous rumble finally ceased. The massive eyeball hovered in the air, its gaze slowly lowering until it fell upon Diss. A single glance brought boundless seals. The other party had not completely disregarded Diss; at the very least, the Scythe of War standing before him was enough to make the deity's eyelid twitch. Old Hoffen straightened his back. The God of Principles' notebook fluttered open and flipped rapidly; as the outer seals formed, he unraveled them in kind. In any contest other than direct physical combat, Old Hoffen could hold his own—such was the confidence of Principles. As for the God of Principles who had fallen not long ago, unfortunately, He had met His end in the direct combat He was least suited for. In the distance, shrill screeches rang out one after another, accompanied by noticeable ripples of aura that washed all the way here—the races dwelling within the crypt world were fighting for survival with their very last resorts. It was time. Diss stood up. He had deliberately waited this long so that the God of the Crypt would divert more power into "hunting," making it somewhat easier when he stepped in to deal with the situation. Diss put away the Principles notebook, gripped the Scythe of War in his right hand, and looked up to meet the gaze of the giant eyeball. The eyeball seemed to sense something, and a shadow appeared within its gaze. "Heh." The next moment, across the ground, in the air, along the cavern walls—Diss's figure holding the Scythe of War was everywhere. He was searching for that distinct shadow, for that was the true body of the God of the Crypt. At last, he found it, cornering the shadow right in front of him. The shadow rose upright like a door. From within reached a slender, holy hand, and a face obscured by long hair was revealed. The Scythe of War in Diss's hands slashed down. *Bang!* A patch of white appeared in the void, as though a beam of light had cleaved clean through, or as though a child with a spoon had scooped out a massive chunk of this subterranean world. Diss's body shot backward in retreat. Temple elder blood tinted with gold soaked through his originally black divine robe. Seeing that Diss was not yet dead, the long-haired woman showed a flicker of surprise in the gaze peeking through her strands of hair. Even if she was frail right now and had diverted most of her power to slaughtering and gathering blood sacrifices across the realm, she was still the exalted Sovereign of the Crypt. Under a direct strike from her true self, she had failed to kill a mere elder? After all, beneath the night sky of Mink Street back then, Raniedal had swatted lone temple elders like flies. Diss's momentum finally slowed. He had been thrown very far away—far enough that at first glance, the giant eyeball was nowhere to be seen. Yet with a second look, the eyeball had already reappeared before him. The shadow had returned to the center of the eye, and the long-haired woman stood atop the cornea. "Cough... *cough, cough*..." Diss coughed violently, vomiting up crystalline shards—shattered fragments of a godhead. As a mortal, withstanding a direct strike from a chief god and surviving was already something to be proud of. But Diss took no pleasure in such pride. "Order has no branch gods left. Whose inheritor are you?" the woman demanded. Diss did not answer. Instead, he raised the Scythe of War once more, turning its blade toward the giant eyeball above. With his actions, he reaffirmed his stance and resolve. "When the era turnover is complete and the new era begins, you will have a chance to ascend to godhood. Submit to me, and I shall bestow upon you the status of a branch god of the Crypt." Diss replied, "Even if I agreed, my grandson wouldn't." After all, given Diss's standing and character, such an offer was frankly insulting. "You have chosen your own destruction." The woman had no desire to waste any more time. She needed to quickly absorb the blood sacrifice and depart. Although the Church of Order was currently tied up in the divine war, it was still far from exhausting its foundations and could easily pose a lethal threat to her. The woman raised her hand, and the eyeball turned solemn. A horrifying subsidence began. Diss took to the air, but from beneath the collapsing ground reached countless hands, grabbing and binding him. It was as though hell itself were made manifest. Unable to break free, Diss could only swing the Scythe of War downward relentlessly, severing limbs by the score, only for them to regenerate in an instant. Above, the woman tilted her head back and closed her eyes. The eyelid of the giant eye closed along with hers. The hellish expanse of countless grasping hands contracted at astonishing speed. When the area collapsed out of existence, Diss vanished along with it, as if obliterated into nothingness. Yet the eyelid of the giant eye began to twitch faintly, as if grit had gotten into it. "Hm?" The woman voiced her doubt once more. There were few beings in this world worthy of her attention, but from the beginning, she had watched Diss more warily than the threat posed by those five gravestones. None of the gravestones' masters held an artifact on par with the Scythe of War. Her first attempt had failed to kill him, and this second attempt... had failed as well. The God of the Crypt began to feel a twinge of regret—regret that she had dispersed so much power early on for mere convenience. She vaguely sensed that this decision would come back to haunt her. The giant eye opened, and the hellish domain reopened like a massive plume of vapor, leaving fissures and rising heat across the vast expanse. In an inconspicuous corner knelt a figure. He leaned on the Scythe of War to keep his balance, crystalline powder spilling steadily from the corner of his lips. As he slowly rose to his feet, the dharma body behind him was gone, and his aura had dwindled to near exhaustion. Yet Diss still lifted his head and met the giant eyeball's gaze. Then, he pulled the scythe free once more, its blade pointed directly at the eye as before. His first strike had been charged with full power; though it had failed to harm the woman, it had at least constituted an exchange. But the second time, he had been rendered incapable of even drawing close. Now, it seemed he could only passively take further beatings. "Be obliterated." A beam of light erupted from the giant eye, vaporizing the ground like a cataclysmic disaster. Diss gripped the scythe with both hands, bracing himself, but like an ant caught beneath a roaring deluge, he was instantly engulfed. When the beam dispersed, an unfathomably colossal crater was left behind. At the very center of the crater stood a scythe. This time, dense networks of cracks covered the scythe itself. One of the Church of Order's most intact divine artifacts had been pushed to the brink of shattering. No matter how powerful, a weapon was meant for offense; relying on it purely for defense was less effective than Kanna's little backpack. "Ah..." Diss let out a long sigh. Most of his divine robe had vaporized, and across his exposed body, seventy to eighty percent of his skin and flesh had disintegrated. A vast cloud of shattered crystals spilled from within, swirling around his battered form. Only his chest was slightly better off, for he had deliberately shielded the book at his breast—his old friend. Old Hoffen's figure reappeared. Looking at his old friend kneeling on one knee, he seemed at a loss. In all his memory, this was the first time he had ever seen Diss reduced to such a state in battle. In the past, no matter who challenged him, no matter what circumstances he faced, Diss had always proven in the simplest, most direct way that he was the singular exception—one who could never be measured by conventional wisdom. He was a genius among geniuses. Even though he had retired early to his family, his youthful figure had weighed down the hearts of that entire generation's brightest talents for their whole lives. Yet lost as he was, Old Hoffen could not help asking, "Why haven't you tried yet?" *You told Rasma that this was a battle in which no being beneath godhood could take part.* *Yet why haven't you attempted your breakthrough to godhood even now?* The woman drifted away from the eye and floated above the colossal crater. If nothing changed, this crater would one day become a wonder bearing witness to divine power. Pointing a finger at Diss below, she said: "I offer you one last chance: swear fealty to me." This time, Diss did not try to stand. Instead, he spread his palm before him. He summoned his godhead fragments. Indeed, he possessed many godhead fragments—the hallmark of his absolute talent, which had earned him the acknowledgment of the God of Order Himself. The God of Order had once said that had Diss been born in the previous era, it wouldn't have been long before He would have welcomed Diss into His temple. And through these three strikes, the God of the Crypt had clearly sensed the terrifying potential of the man before her. No, it was not mere potential; he was merely shackled by the yet-unbroken laws of the era and had thus been unable to ascend. The God of the Crypt could not help feeling a degree of relief. Though Order's suppression was waning, here it acted as a safeguard and advantage for her. Had the man before her already ascended to godhood, he would have posed a truly severe threat to her. After all, this was no god of the past; this would be a new god, one at the absolute pinnacle of everything. "I will protect you until the dawn of the new era and grant you godhood. I will also take you to tear down the foundations of Heaven—foundations I laid for Order. Since I knew how to build them, I naturally know how to destroy them. "Submit to me. In the new era, I can lead you to reign supreme. I will even permit you to establish a new Church of Order, with you reigning as the new God of Order." The woman believed the terms she offered were enticing beyond measure; surely the allure of godhood was irresistible. Yet for some reason, after promising these lavish conditions, the uneasy twitching of her eye did not subside—if anything, it grew more pronounced. Seeking advantage and avoiding harm was her instinct, which was why she had been the first hidden god. To keep herself from getting dragged in, she had gone so far as to fashion this crypt realm and establish the Church of the Burrow. Yet now, she felt a profound dread, as if something catastrophic were about to occur. She looked back toward the deep cavern from which she had emerged, almost wanting to burrow right back inside. Only with great effort did she banish that cowardice. She began to summon the puppet demon gods scattered across the realm, urging them to abandon their harvest and return at once with whatever blood offerings they had gathered, so she could restore as much strength as possible to regain a sense of security. She lifted her head. The rock ceiling above had been eroded into gaping black cavities. She was looking toward the One seated beyond the era. "Does my dread stem from you? Surely you wouldn't ignore the hegemony of the era just to descend solely for me, would you?" Below, the powder of the shattered godhead fragments in Diss's palm grew denser, slowly coalescing. The divine luminescence did not fade; rather, it erupted with terrifying pressure. The pressure forced the woman to lower her head once more, the long hair veiling her face parting completely. In utter disbelief, she stared down at the critically wounded man in the crater. At last, she understood, and she gasped in incredulity: "You were using my power to help you ascend?!" The gathering of godhead fragments into a complete godhead marked the total transformation from mortal to deity. Although Order's suppression had weakened, it remained formidable. Yet Diss had found a different path. Instead of trying to mend and fuse his godhead fragments together, he had used the strikes of a chief god to shatter them completely into dust—for once ground to sand, they were far easier to remold. He was a true genius, and a true lunatic. One could say with certainty that across countless past eras, no one had ever ascended to godhood through such extreme means, for no past ascendant had ever faced circumstances quite like Diss's. The dust of the godhead fragments began to melt, shedding its impurities to reveal the embryonic form of a complete divinity. A mighty aura climbed steadily higher. Divine power remade his lost flesh and blood—the inevitable transformation from a mortal body into a divine form. *Boom! Boom! Boom!* Countless solemn, majestic bolts of Order thunder blasted through the rocky ceilings of the crypt world, crashing down in a frenzied barrage. This place was originally a special realm forged from the divine kingdom of the God of the Crypt, but now, that kingdom could not contain two deities. Empowered by Diss's surging might, the near-shattered Scythe of War emitted an ecstatic shriek, its cracks mending. In this moment, it could even forget its former master. Diss stood up. He raised his head. Once more, he met the gaze of the giant eye in the sky, his pupils reflecting the infinite rhythm of Order's thunder. This time, the giant eyeball shut tight. The woman screamed. The dread that had been festering within her heart had finally become reality. Especially now, when she had just emerged from two eras of hiding—frail, decaying, and utterly depleted—while standing before her was a newly risen god. And by no means was he an ordinary deity. ... The bells of the Temple began to toll. Inside, the temple elders wore stunned expressions. It was not a resonance from the God of Order, but a special tolling never before heard by them—a chime that had not rung for an entire era. The Temple Captain of the Guard looked at the Oracle. "What does this tolling signify?" The Oracle replied: "It means... a new 'Lord' of our Order lineage has been born." ... In the Yorktown cemetery, Neo, standing before his wife's headstone, suddenly felt a wave of dizziness. Instinctively, he reached out to steady himself against the headstone, then immediately explained as if afraid his wife would worry: "Eliza, I've been a little anemic lately." ... In the second-floor bedroom of the Guman home, Richard, preparing to pack a change of clothes before returning to work at his department, suddenly found blood dripping from his nose: "Oh god, what's wrong with me? Did I get too excited over my confession working out?" ... Inside the carriage. Karen, who had been resting with his eyes closed, snapped them open. A terrifying aura surged from him, forcing the carriage horses to collapse to their knees on the spot, bringing the carriage to an abrupt halt. Muri turned around and asked, "High Priest, what happened?" "Grandpa... has become a god." ... Holding the Scythe of War, Diss stepped into the air, one stride at a time. With every step he took, more than half the crypt world trembled. Countless chains of Order had pierced and enveloped the realm, intertwining the divine domains of both sides. This made it impossible for the God of the Crypt's true body to flee, forcing her to stay and continue this unfinished divine war! "Do you know what your Lord intends to do?! "For the sake of His so-called ideal, He has resolved to sacrifice everything! "Look upon the power you now wield! Look upon the vast ages you could now command! Do you truly intend to hand it all over to Him?!" "I do." "That is a sacrificial slaughter!" "No. That is an inheritance."