Crossing the Chaotic Sea—is there anything more daunting?
Generally speaking, no god could answer that question. It's something that only the insane would attempt. But now, Hades could describe it. The experience defied words like "difficult" or "challenging."
Imagine a frail, powerless person sinking into a swamp, with death looming over every step. Even with the support of the demonic stars, traversing the Chaotic Sea was no small feat. It was crucial to reserve enough divine power for a safe return. A single misstep would render all efforts futile.
If Hades lost the eight demonic stars, the Crest of the Seven Deadly Sins, and the World Seed, he would be utterly ruined. At that point, he might as well contemplate charging into the Chaotic Sea for a swift death—better than a drawn-out fate.
However, despite the immense difficulty, Hades's journey had been relatively smooth. No chaotic storms of annihilation arose, no passing Absolute Gods squashed him by chance, and no other unforeseen calamities occurred.
In short, he encountered no significant dangers. After spending about ten thousand years, he finally approached a world near the Greek Pantheon's Mythic World. Carefully and cautiously, he merged his divine power with the Crystal Wall System of this small world, allowing the eight demonic stars to enter.
"Phew..."
Hades let out a deep breath. Gaining entry into the world was the hardest step; the rest would be straightforward. He took a moment to steady his mind, carefully maintaining the connection between the Greek Pantheon's Mythic World and the demonic stars to ensure there were no issues.
As for extracting the world force?
That part was relatively simple. Harvesting world force wasn't the real challenge; crossing the Chaotic Sea was. Once that hurdle was cleared, extracting world force was straightforward.
Guiding a world towards its destruction could yield up to sixty percent of its world force. With good fortune, it might be possible to obtain eighty or even ninety percent.
If things didn't go well, he could obliterate the world completely, though that would only net about thirty percent. Ideally, if the world's consciousness resisted strongly, he might not even get ten percent.
In any case, there would be some harvest, no matter what. For Hades, the choice was clear.
Firstly, although his father had given him only 500,000 years, guiding a small world to its doom would take no more than a century at most.
Secondly, crossing even one world was an enormous challenge. Maximizing the yield was imperative; otherwise, the time and effort would be wasted, leading to a significant loss if anything went wrong.
...
"Chase!"
"Pursue him!"
"Crowl is severely injured. He can't use magic or qi. He won't get far. Capture him!"
"Yes, sir!"
With these thunderous shouts, a large group of knights in heavy armor, wielding broadswords, surrounded the entire mountain like a scene from the medieval era.
On the mountain path, a blonde youth gasped heavily, his face pale, blood dripping from numerous wounds, indicating he was at death's door.
"Damn it…" Reaching the peak, the youth, Crowl, looked at the cliff before him and felt a wave of despair.
A thousand-foot drop lay ahead. In his prime, as a sixth-tier mage and seventh-tier fighter, a prodigy of both magic and martial arts, this would have been trivial. But now, gravely injured and nearing death, it was a dire predicament.
"Crowl!" The leader of the pursuing knights, a man named Fick, sneered, "You're finished today! Don't resist. Your parents, your clan, your siblings, they're all waiting for you in hell."
"Bastard!"
"Bastard!"
Crowl cursed, roaring, "Fick, the Andrew family treated you well! You damned traitor…"
"Hahaha…"
Fick, the tall knight, laughed coldly, interrupting, "Crowl, enough with the nonsense. Loyalty is a myth; it's all about who offers more. The Andrew family saw me as a dog, but the Marcello family? They pay better!"
Crowl sneered, "And you think the Marcello family doesn't see you as a dog?"
"True!" Fick admitted, his grin widening into a snarl, "But at least they let me be the top dog. Enough talk, Crowl. It's time for you to die!"
Hearing Fick's words, Crowl turned and leaped off the cliff without hesitation. It was his only slim chance of survival; staying meant certain death.
"Find him!" Fick commanded from the cliff's edge. "Dead or alive, bring him back and scatter his ashes!"
"Yes, sir!"
A number of fighters leapt after him, and mages employed divination spells to locate Crowl.
As the winds howled around him, Crowl whispered desperately, "Please… someone… give me strength… anyone… I'll give anything for power…"
"Creak, creak..."
An eerie voice echoed as a dark purple skull appeared beside Crowl, its voice seductive and filled with temptation, "Do you seek power? Are you willing to surrender your soul? Your body? Everything you have?"
"Demon…"
Crowl's face turned ashen, but given his dire circumstances, he had no choice. Gritting his teeth, he snarled, "I agree! I'll give everything for vengeance!"
"Creak, creak..."
With a malevolent grin, the dark purple skull plunged into Crowl's body. In the next moment, an overwhelming divine power ignited, transforming Crowl's body.
Amidst Crowl's agonized screams, a dark purple armor—the Nether Armor of Tian Xiong Star, the Garuda—enveloped him.
Simultaneously, similar events unfolded at seven other locations within this world of magic and qi.
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