Chapter 194

But if the Feathered Serpent God, for the sake of the initial battlefield situation and greater righteousness, chose to abandon the attack, he would fail to protect his people's faith and lose all face.

With the aid of the gods, the Feathered Serpent God's severed body healed; though the grotesque wound on his chest remained, the split closed.

Clearly, the Feathered Serpent God had at least stabilized his injuries and would not relapse in the short term.

Boom.

The Feathered Serpent God raised his massive serpent head and spoke.

"I will never abandon it."

The people were stunned—was the Feathered Serpent God willing to ignite the Mythic Annihilation War just to defend his people?

"Do you intend to spark the Mythic Annihilation War?" God replied.

"I don't need to spark the Mythic Annihilation War—this battle was started by you and me. Let you and me settle it in a fight to the death. If I win, I avenge my people; if you win, everything ends—do as you please."

At these words, Director Takahashi and the others, who had just sat down, slid straight to the floor.

Fuck, the Feathered Serpent God is too ruthless.

God had kicked the ball only to kick himself into a dead end—no matter who won, God's fate would be terrible.

A fight to the death means only one side survives; defeat means death.

The Feathered Serpent God is stronger than God; now, with the gods' aid, he has temporarily suppressed his main injury. God's chance of victory is slim. If he loses, he dies. Even if he somehow wins through trickery, once the Feathered Serpent God—descendant of the Yinglong—dies, the Yinglong may seek vengeance for his descendant, and God still cannot escape death.

No matter how you look at it, God is finished.

God smiled, helpless yet merciful.

"Feathered Serpent God, you are injured. A fight to the death would give me an unfair advantage. Moreover, I too am wounded. Whoever wins, future generations will argue the victory was unjust."

"But since you insist on a fight to the death to decide the outcome, how about this: each side selects one champion to fight to the death. That way, both are at their peak—perfectly fair."

Fuck, how despicable!

Director Takahashi and the others cried inwardly in unison.

God is so cunning—he's looking for a scapegoat to save his own life. No matter who dies, it won't be the Feathered Serpent God, so he can escape death.

Before the Feathered Serpent God could respond, God spoke again.

"Feathered Serpent God, the Aztec gods and Inca empire gods are dead. Of the four Maya divine clans, only three remain. You are now the heart of the Maya gods. If you die, the Indian mythology will truly decline. Even if you don't care for your own life, you must consider the fate of Indian mythology."

The Feathered Serpent God's words froze on his lips.

Indeed, as God said, if the Feathered Serpent God died, Indian mythology would plummet to its lowest point. Continued warfare in the initial battlefield would almost certainly lead it down the same path as the Aztec gods and Inca empire gods—until Indian mythology vanished from history.

Indian mythology would cease to exist.

This foreseeable future occurred to Director Takahashi and the others as well; they all turned to look at the Feathered Serpent God.

The Feathered Serpent God cared most for his people and Indian mythology. Even if he didn't care for his own life, he had to consider Indian mythology.

"Feathered Serpent God, let me fight this duel to the death for you." The Maya god Kamensu stepped forward, clearly agreeing with God's view.

"No. If you die, it's a blow to Maya mythology. The Kamensu clan cannot afford to lose you." The Feathered Serpent God refused.

Then, one by one, the Maya gods volunteered to fight.

The Feathered Serpent God made no decision—he did not want any of the Maya gods to suffer harm.

Clearly, the Feathered Serpent God could not bring himself to sacrifice any Maya god for the sake of Indian mythology. This scene moved the onlookers, even Christian believers sighed in admiration.

Just as the situation reached a stalemate,

"Feathered Serpent God, how about I fight this duel to the death for you?"

Cimu stepped forward, his crimson eyes brimming with demonic aura—not grotesque or ferocious, but wickedly elegant and noble.

This sight took the world by surprise. Director Takahashi and the others stared in shock, unable to understand why Lord Cimu would fight a duel to the death for the Feathered Serpent God.

"I was entrusted by Yatagarasu to come here and aid the Feathered Serpent God," Cimu said softly, his expression calm, serene, and noble, unmoved by anything.

Looking at each other, the people understood—Lord Cimu's mission was more than just delivering a message; he had been entrusted by Yatagarasu.

Of course—he would not have sent someone merely to deliver a message if he feared the Feathered Serpent God's safety. What if the gods merely feared Yatagarasu's threat and did nothing?

They turned their gaze to the ten thousand demons behind Lord Cimu.

If it were only to deliver a message, there would be no need to bring so many demons. They were brought to aid the Feathered Serpent God—but now, with the battle stalled, they were unnecessary.

"Yatagarasu sent you to help me?" The Feathered Serpent God was stunned.

Cimu gave a slight nod.

Finally,

The Feathered Serpent God agreed. The reason was simple and blunt—he trusted Yatagarasu and believed that if Yatagarasu had sent Lord Cimu to help, then Lord Cimu must be formidable.

"If you die, I will give you a reckoning when I finally settle the initial battlefield," the Feathered Serpent God said firmly, making a promise.

His meaning was clear: if Cimu died helping him, he would repay with his own life. He trusted Cimu—but he still did not wish anyone to die for him.

On the other side,

God, unwilling to suffer losses in Heaven, asked the gods aligned with Heaven to send someone—but who would volunteer to be a scapegoat? It was not worth dying for God. With no choice, God reluctantly sent Raphael, one of the Seven Archangels, known as "the Guardian of Human Souls."

"God's popularity is worse than the Feathered Serpent God's," Director Takahashi stroked his chin.

Think about it—a god who only dares to fight on the fringes of the initial battlefield has zero popularity.

"Why doesn't God just send out a common soldier to get killed outright? That would resolve the situation without losing combat strength."

Someone asked, confused.

The man was immediately smacked hard on the back of his head. The attacker sighed.

"Send a common soldier? That's just handing out free points—it would crush the morale of the faithful. God is now trapped between a rock and a hard place—he must send someone of stature."

Boom!!

The duel to the death erupted—and the result was shocking. Lord Cimu's demonic aura crushed Shanhe, leaving even Raphael, one of the Seven Archangels, stunned—he bled the moment the battle began.

"So it's him—the old friend who once fought alongside Jutsumi in the initial battlefield," murmured an ancient deity from Indian mythology, his eyes holding the flow of ages.

This was a true divine duel to the death!

Up they came, fighting to the death.

The sun and moon trembled; the stars flickered between light and dark.

They were like two meteors streaking upward, plunging into the starry sky. Unlike the Feathered Serpent God, they had no massive bodies, so people found it very hard to watch the great battle.

They could only wait anxiously, or peer through telescopes.

It didn't take long.

They reappeared, having fought their way back from the starry sky. The instant the two of them came into view, countless people gaped, and a deep, creeping horror took hold of them—especially Director Takahashi and the others.

They saw Raphael, one of the Seven Archangels, drenched in blood, driven back step after step by Lord Cimu.

Lord Cimu spread his hands, and a demonic aura that made even the gods shudder blanketed the entire firmament. Bai Yu's palm and fingers, like a great millstone, came wheeling down, battering Raphael until his holy bones within his body cracked and popped. He was sent flying, spraying divine blood from his mouth.

"This is a demon who has fought on the Primordial Battlefield," the people watched, hearts pounding with terror, eyelids twitching wildly.

They knew the gods had waged war on the Primordial Battlefield, and they also knew it wasn't only the gods—demons and monsters had fought there as well. But they had never actually seen a demon who had fought on the Primordial Battlefield. Now, at last, they were seeing one in the flesh. That place was a forge for gods and demons alike; not a single god or demon who walked out of it alive was weak.

"Let it all end."

Lord Cimu said calmly. Light blazed beneath his feet as he transformed into a streak of demonic shadow, darting left and right, circling Raphael and striking him again and again.

In that brief span, Raphael took nine palms in a row. His whole body cracked open, his joints popping, white bone splinters exposed, fresh blood spraying, his holy light dimming, the aura of a god reduced to its weakest point.

When the tenth palm came down—

Divine blood sprayed across the firmament; demonic light pressed down on the nine heavens. Raphael's angelic body was finally blasted apart by Lord Cimu, shattering into more than ten chunks that tumbled down before the Gates of Heaven, staining the Gates of Heaven red.

……