As the three gods strategized, a piercing notification rang through their minds like a siren, seizing their hearts with a cold grip.
[World has been targeted. Invasion begins in 28:23:59:59.]
Tension filled the air. Though they tried to keep their composure, a palpable unease settled over them. Sovern finally broke the silence, his voice steady but strained. "System, how will they arrive?"
[Opening a portal to the invading world is the most common method. Though it consumes substantial divine power from the invading world's master, it is far more resource-efficient than intergalactic transportation.]
[Portal shall appear ten days prior to the invasion.]
Hearing this, the three gods exchanged determined glances. Preparations began immediately. Each god sent powerful visions to their temples, stirring their followers to action. Armies gathered from every corner of the realm, led by Thalor, who was appointed as the Supreme Commander. Warriors of various races—humans, orcs, elves, and others—set up camps near the designated portal site in the dry, arid lands ruled by the god of war, in whic the portal appeared, each ready to defend their world with every ounce of strength.
---
The Day of the Invasion
[Time remaining: 00:00:00:00]
[Invasion begins]
[The battle stops only when one side surrenders or is completely annihilated.]
The air thickened as the portal opened, unleashing an overwhelming aura of foreign magic. With a thundering roar, a wave of human soldiers spilled out—figures encased in dark, heavy armor, etreamly deciplined coming through portal with weapons forged from unfamiliar metals. Alongside them were monstrous beasts, their scales flickering with a dim, eerie glow under the overcast sky.
Thalor stood tall, his sword raised high. His voice boomed across the battlefield. "For our gods, for our world—fight!"
The armies collided in a savage frenzy. Sword met sword, mixing with the roars of beasts and the cries of men. Orcs, driven by their primal fury, clashed with towering creatures from the other world, while human knights stood resolute, shields locked to defend against waves of foreign magic. Elven archers, perched from afar, let loose a deadly rain of arrows, each one aimed to bring down the encroaching invaders wall of men .
The battle raged on, brutal and unyielding. Despite their combined strength, the defenders felt the relentless onslaught of the invaders take its toll. Thalor fought at the front lines, slashing down any who dared approach, but even he began to feel the fatigue settle in as wave after wave surged through the portal. Blood soaked the ground, and the forces of the world grew wearier with each passing hour.
In the divine realm, Sovern watched with a heart heavy with despair. His forces were faltering. He knew it was time for his last resort.
"I must descend," he announced, his tone resolute.
Hana and Kali exchanged uncertain glances but nodded, understanding the gravity of his choice. Focusing deeply, Sovern poured his divine essence into Thalor, merging his consciousness with that of his loyal apostle.
---
Thalor's vision blurred momentarily as he felt Sovern's overwhelming power flood his body. His eyes blazed with divine light, and an aura of godlike strength emanated from him, causing the battlefield to seemingly slow around him. With newfound power, Thalor charged forward, his every strike unleashing waves of divine energy that tore through the enemy ranks. Their forces rallied behind him, their spirits reignited by the sight of their god-empowered leader.
But as hope began to rise, a rift appeared above the portal, rippling with dark energy. From it emerged a colossal form—a serpentine creature, scales gleaming like molten metal, eyes smoldering with intense fire. Its sheer size cast a shadow over the battlefield, and with a deafening roar, the serpent brought destruction to all in its path, incinerating entire squads with its fiery breath.
The world master of the invading realm had summoned a divine beast.
Even with Sovern's essence within him, Thalor felt a shiver of dread. His forces staggered, their resolve faltering as the serpent's wrath tore through their ranks. The gods, observing from their realm, sensed the crushing weight of defeat closing in.
"We're losing," Sovern whispered, a trace of despair in his voice.
---
Zephry, watching from a distant vantage point, let a sly smirk curl across his lips. Clark, standing beside him, noticed this and couldn't contain his suspicion any longer.
"Seems like your plan worked out quite well, master," Clark remarked.
Zephry turned to him, feigning innocence. "What plan?"
Clark raised an eyebrow. "You came to this masterless world despite knowing it lacked strength—knowing that the gods here, mere constructs of the system, had no true mastery over their world. You manipulated them, leading them to advance their world into a new era and now to face a foreign invasion, all because you wanted to bring an actual world master into play."
Zephry's smirk grew wider. "Zephry's smirk widened. "You're sharper than you look, Clark. Yes, these gods are mere constructs of the system, pieces set up to maintain the world's balance. They can never become true masters. But Sovern… he's different."
"So… Sovern wasn't created by the system?" Clark pressed, curiosity piqued.
"Exactly," Zephry replied. "He was once a mortal who recently ascended. But the Pioneer Gods couldn't let him roam free, so they 'tamed' him."
Clark's face twisted in thought. "By 'tamed,' you mean they erased his memories and bound him to serve another master… a puppet on strings."
"Precisely," Zephry said, his tone dripping with satisfaction.
Clark shook his head, letting out a frustrated sigh. "No matter what the Pioneer Gods did, in the end, he's just another piece on your chessboard."
Zephry let out a low, amused chuckle. "You're catching on fast, Clark. Might even say that mind of yours is finally waking up."
Clark rolled his eyes, brushing off the jab. "But why go through all of this? What's the point of manipulating these gods, just to lure in another world master?"
For a moment, Zephry's mocking expression softened, a flicker of something raw passing over his face. "Because, Clark… I'm tired of destruction. Maybe, for once, I want to build something. Something that isn't dictated by other masters but my own. A world that's truly mine." His gaze shifted, growing distant, vulnerable.
An uncomfortable silence settled between them, broken only by the distant sounds of battle.
Finally, Clark broke the silence. "So, let me get this straight—you're pulling all these strings, starting wars and chaos, just so you can 'take down the other master,' claim the system, and create a world that's all yours? Sounds like something you would like."
Zephry chuckled, his lips twisting into a wry smile. "Maybe it is. After all, everyone needs a purpose."
He turned back to the battlefield, his expression hardening as he took in the chaos below. It was time to see his plan through to tthe end no matter who stood in his way.