Chapter 215

Suddenly, chaotic and dark energy surged like a mad thing, triggering a massive explosion that blasted the ground of Greenwich Village's commercial street down three or four meters, flinging the heroes away without warning.

Countless chaotic energies, like a furious storm, began sweeping everything away. Steve said: "What's going on??? Is he insane?!?"

N'al was truly insane.

Because he finally realized—the person who had once shouted insults at him had stolen his only hope of escape.

Even more maddening, this thief not only swaggered before him, darting left and right, but had the audacity to come back and curse him again!!!

And the curses were utterly vile!!!

Unhinged beyond reason!!

N'al was truly mad—he began unleashing chaotic and dark power without restraint, determined to kill this damned insect.

As previously mentioned, N'al was a chaotic entity born from the universe's primordial source, and he differed fundamentally from other demon gods: he was not a "god of faith."

N'al did not draw strength from believers' faith; other demon gods like Mephisto, Surtur, or Dormammu could all enhance their power through others' worship.

But N'al's power came entirely from the universe's primordial source, so even if all his followers—the symbiotes—betrayed him, he would remain merely imprisoned, never weakened.

In short, all his power fell from the heavens—he needed no effort to possess it.

Thus, he never hoarded his power like other demon gods; the universe's chaotic energy was infinite, and as long as chaos existed in the universe, N'al never feared running out.

So he didn't care how much power he wasted—even when he realized the immense loss during transmission to Earth, he remained indifferent, for this power required no hard cultivation; he simply took it and used it freely.

N'al could be understood as a water pump: he didn't produce water, only transported it, so he felt no regret wasting it, since the water neither needed his creation nor his maintenance.

Thus, after being enraged, N'al fully activated, frantically siphoning chaotic power from the universe and pouring it toward Earth.

Swirling chaotic energy surged like a flood, rushing through the conduit toward Earth.

Back a few minutes earlier, the demon gods in Xiangong had already moved ahead to drill holes in the conduit; only Odin and Loki, along with Wong and Strange, remained.

There was something odd between these two groups: Wong was utterly satisfied with Strange; she had already decided that after this event, she would pass the Sorcerer Supreme title to Strange, freeing her to roam the universe—Wong's lifelong dream.

With this event, Wong was confident she could leave Earth with immense wealth, and with Strange's brilliance, she had no lingering concerns—only waiting for retirement day to come and depart in triumph.

Looking back on her life, Wong was deeply satisfied; imagining her future retirement, she grew even happier, and now her mood was excellent—Strange looked especially pleasing to her.

But Odin, the All-Father, fared far worse: his eldest son had been useless, caused trouble, refused to repent, and vanished on Earth without a trace.

Then came the prophecy of Ragnarök, the increasingly weakened World Tree, and constant mishaps across the Nine Realms—Odin was like a cook holding a leaky ladle, knowing the holes couldn't be patched, yet still forced to keep trying.

After the demon gods took their positions, Odin and Wong could naturally find good spots on the conduit to drill holes and siphon power.

Wong was so pleased with Strange that she found a way to drill a hole for him too, granting him some power boost; seeing this, Odin also opened a hole for Loki.

Loki felt that the number of times he'd been favored today surpassed the total of the past thousand years.

Logically, even Loki's power level was insufficient to siphon N'al's power, let alone Strange, who had only just begun learning magic—but with the big shots cutting the pipeline, the two could simply follow along and reap the benefits—at least, things had been stable just minutes ago.

The Initial Evolution

The demon gods greedily absorbed the power flowing from N'al; Wong and Odin didn't lag behind, and even Strange and Loki could sip the leftovers.

But everything changed in a single instant: Wong first shouted sternly: "Stephen! Stop!"

Before Strange could react, Wong waved her hand, halting the operation of the magical array; the moment it stopped, a torrent of chaotic energy erupted before Wong—she flashed backward and landed steadily.

But Odin's side fared far worse: the All-Father, relying on Asgardians' robust physique, hacked open a massive gap, and the hole he made for Loki was no smaller—when the dark power surged forth, both father and son were knocked over.

Fortunately, Odin reacted quickly, waving his hand to seal the entire Xiangong, closing all fissures.

"What happened? Why did he suddenly explode?!?"

Wong shook her head, indicating she didn't know, then analyzed: "I sensed rage in that power—N'al seems enraged."

"Enraged? Who could provoke him?"

Wong shook her head again, then suddenly froze, muttering: "This surge was sudden—even you and I nearly got hurt. What about weaker demon gods…?"

Wong and Odin exchanged glances, instantly understanding each other's thoughts.

In their original plan, they were drilling holes in a water pipe to steal water: though the pipe had decent pressure, the spray had force, but since they were powerful, handling such force was no problem.

But now, the situation had changed: stealing water from a pipe had become facing a Three Gorges Dam flood. N'al, enraged, unleashed power recklessly, causing extreme pressure in the conduit—so the energy bursting from the drilled holes carried unimaginable force.

Surtur stood firm; this force meant nothing to his Crimson Dimension. Dormammu felt it was a bit gritty, but he never minded—anything would do. Mephisto was startled at first, but quickly adjusted, accepting everything without hesitation.

Most other powerful demon gods were the same: though the incoming power grew increasingly chaotic and wild, to them it was merely gritty—even if they couldn't digest it immediately, they could store it in their dimensions and break it down later.

But weaker demon gods were not so lucky.

Many know that water jets are extremely destructive tools—high-pressure water carries immense force; similarly, in siphoning chaotic energy.

The demon gods' greed made them ignore all safety rules when drilling holes—they dug as wide as possible.

When the furious power erupted under immense pressure, many minor demon gods had no time to react or defend themselves—they were instantly swallowed and died on the spot.

At this moment, experienced Wong and Odin immediately grasped the situation.

Loot dropped? What are we waiting for? Scavenge the corpses!

Wong was thrilled: a whole swath of demon gods had been washed away downstream—not only did they die en masse, but they didn't even need her to kill them; the drops weren't just their own power, but also the chaotic energy they'd absorbed earlier—all of it fell to Wong.

Compared to the dimension demon gods with excellent digestion and no dietary preferences, these pre-digested energies were far more suitable for Wong's human body.

N'al's frantic output was primordial cosmic chaos; many demon gods' life levels simply couldn't reach that tier. After the first wave, besides those dead, many were critically wounded—Wong and Odin moved in, one strike each, finishing them off.

Investors? Never heard of them!

The full power of any cosmic demon god was a supreme tonic; even in the richest times, one or two would appear at once—but now, cosmic demon gods lay scattered everywhere, and soon, Wong was full.

But it didn't matter; Wong had done this before—when her own energy reached its limit, she began shoving the excess into Strange, like an eagle that had caught a giant prey, ate her fill, then fed the rest to her chick.

Meanwhile, Loki in Xiangong watched Strange's body flicker and flare, as pure magical essences and energies flooded into him—in mere minutes, Strange nearly ascended bodily.

Within moments, the energy surging through him surpassed even Loki's, who held divine rank.

Loki's eyes burned with envy; before he could feign congratulations, a beam of golden light descended from the sky, knocking Loki flat.

"Father…" Loki started to speak, when another golden beam poured pure energy into him—he cried out in delight: "All-Father! You…!"

Before he finished, another golden beam struck—then Loki and Strange began a race, as countless pure, powerful energies "whooshed" into their bodies.

Wong and Odin, two old eagles, snatched ahead; Strange and Loki, two fledglings, gorged behind.

Originally, Odin's capacity far exceeded Wong's human body—but so many demon gods had died or half-died, and their bodies held so much consumed or unconsumed chaotic energy, that soon, Odin too was full.

Wong fed Strange on one side; Odin saw this, thought: Wong was generous to her student, and Loki was at least his own son—he couldn't refuse him—so he began pouring power into Loki relentlessly.

At first, Loki was ecstatic: not only did this immense power greatly boost his strength, but Odin's rare show of favoritism was something he'd never experienced.

But soon, Strange and Loki stopped smiling.

As everyone knows, humans have limits: Wong was shoving power into Strange, but Strange was still human—he soon became full; his magical energy began spiraling out of control, and without a master to contain it, it slowly leaked into the universe.

Strange shouted: "Stop! Master, I—"

Then another torrent of pure energy poured down—Strange felt bloated like a balloon, every inch of him filled with power, uncontrollable energy surging wildly inside him—he knelt, gagging: "Gag…"

Loki smirked beside him: Strange had barely taken in any power and already vomited—clearly, human physiology couldn't compare to mighty divine flesh.

But soon, he realized he'd rejoiced too early.

Wong's transmission to Strange had been carefully calibrated—she'd processed the power before giving it, so even if the quantity was high, Strange didn't need to digest it himself.

But Odin's gift to Loki was crude: Asgardians always operated on a grand scale. At first, Odin would strike down a demon god with a lightning bolt, take seven parts for himself, give two to Gungnir, and one to Loki.

This power was unprocessed—literally, it was gritty. After receiving it, Loki had to digest it himself.

Before Odin was full, it was manageable; but once Odin was full, what fell on Loki became seven parts.

If Wong gave Strange congee, Odin gave Loki stir-fried pebbles. No matter how high Loki's divine limit, if his digestive system couldn't keep up, it was useless—soon, Loki too knelt on the ground: "Gag…"

These two fledglings, starving moments ago, were now vomiting from overfilling—but Wong and Odin's scavenging journey was barely half done; half the loot still lay scattered on the ground—wasn't leaving it behind equivalent to throwing it away?

Even if the bloodline child vomited, weren't there other fosterlings? Wong pulled out her phone and called from Kamar-Taj; minutes later, colorful beams descended one after another above Mount Ximalaya.

Soon, all Kamar-Taj sorcerers lay on the ground; Wong leaned against a pillar, clutching his neck like a drunkard: "Gag…"

Odin didn't lag behind—Asgard's gods gathered around Xiangong, and soon, countless golden beams descended from above.

At first, Asgard's gods praised the All-Father's generosity, but soon, they began wailing; Heimdall clung to Xiangong's pillar, shouting: "Wait!! All-Father!! It's simply—"

"Gag…"

It was proven: not just humans, but gods had limits too.

It wasn't that the power was so abundant it made every Asgardian vomit—but like Loki's problem, this power still required digestion for gods; before the first wave was processed, the second arrived, then the third, then the tenth—eventually, even gods couldn't take it.

Looking at the remaining half of the cosmic loot, then back at the bloated, upside-down offspring, Wong and Odin exchanged glances.

Waste is shameful; recycling is glorious—find a warehouse, and start moving.