Facing the Apocalypse with My Other Selves

This feeling is indescribable in words.

Though the Divine Spirit has yet to truly appear, the terrifying Divine Power is already omnipresent.

It is as if a colossal dragon, whose very existence crushes the world at a fundamental level, is descending ever closer from the sky outside the grand hall.

For each person present, it brings an overwhelming sense of oppression.

Even those kings who stood tall and showed their courage moments before, now, so many have collapsed limply on the ground.

Their faces are painted with despair.

No trace of courage remains to be seen.

It is as if humanity has fallen into the abyss, hurtling uncontrollably downward, ever faster.

Even though they still breathe for now, in truth, they are already dead.

At the very instant they reach the bottom of the abyss, they will be shattered to dust.

Resist?

Until one faces the Divine Spirit head-on, one cannot imagine such terror, and in the moment of confrontation, not even the urge to resist will survive.

Of all the kings present, now, only seven or eight still stand.

Including that king clad in armor.

But when Wizard Shen Yu met his gaze, he understood—this man, too, lacked the courage to rebel; his eyes were filled with the will to die.

Such a king, who conquered fields of battle and built a mighty prestige, when facing a Divine Spirit, the only choice left is to die standing.

Paradoxically, the ones most delighted among those present are the kings Wizard Shen Yu cast out.

Under the crushing presence of Divine Power, these men have slipped into a frenzy—equal parts fear and madness.

At the first moment, each one prostrated themselves on the ground, snarling and madly laughing at everyone still within the grand hall.

"The god descends!"

"You will all die! Everyone will die!"

"So what if you can dispel the Divine Punishment Curse?"

"How laughable!"

"Mortals dare breathe of defying divine will!"

"..."

They know they are doomed, yet in this moment, compared to their own deaths, the thought of watching others die, seeing the Magic Emperor fall—this brings them a twisted ecstasy.

For it proves their choice was not mistaken.

The power of the Divine Spirit is truly one of absolute despair.

Magic Emperor—what is he, really?

Confronting only the Punishment, perhaps there was hope of resolution, but now, with the True God descending, it is all at an end.

But now, Wizard Shen Yu is wholly calm.

The oppression of Divine Power cannot rouse fear within him.

Though he did not foresee the god arriving here, now, in the hall, at their council—perhaps watching all along—he had prepared for this arrival long before.

Even if the god had waited, once the curse was resolved, the arrival would still be all but certain.

At this moment, Wizard Shen Yu sits atop the grand hall, quietly awaiting what is to come.

He even finds the situation somewhat amusing.

The god could descend here at any instant; yet, up to now, only the pressure of Divine Power grows, but the god themself still refuses to show.

Clearly, this so-called Divine Spirit seeks to magnify its own presence in this fashion, hoping to further crush their spirits.

And just this, alone, makes something clear.

The so-called gods of this world are but men—men, or near-men—with great power; even when facing mortals, they still feel compelled to posture and show off!

At last, as Divine Power swelled to its peak, vast and mighty, it surged from the void—gathering and condensing into a form.

Shrouded head-to-toe in Divine Power, but now, all present—and throughout the Imperial City of the Magic Empire—know the name of the descending god.

The God of Disease—Necros!

It was he who spread the Divine Punishment of plague; even after Wizard Shen Yu cured it, millions still died, and hundreds of millions knew unimaginable pain!

Now, his true form descends before their eyes!

Yes, this matches the records of Divine Spirit incarnations: a body woven from countless strands of Divine Power, emerging from the void; from the instant of arrival, the god's dominion begins infecting all around.

Even now, everyone on the grand dais feels their bodies faltering, disease crawling beneath their skin!

Agony wracks them, and some hesitate, pondering whether to surrender to voluntary death.

Yet, Wizard Shen Yu seems wholly unaffected.

He even lifts his gaze and scrutinizes the Plague God before him.

This is the perfect opportunity to gather intelligence on the gods.

Innate Divine Spirit, a body wrought of Divine Power, yet perhaps even unable to fully or precisely command his own might?

"How amusing." The voice of the God of Disease erupts once again within all minds, "Mortal Emperor—you have no shred of reverence for the divine."

This utterance resounds across the entire Imperial City.

Though his words speak of amusement, all can sense the god's fury.

Fury at those who show no respect to gods!

"There is only one existence I revere—the unknown truth," Wizard Shen Yu's voice, powered by magic, thunders throughout the Imperial City, "As for you, you are merely the fortunate few born of this world—none of you worthy of my reverence."

In this instant, all the Imperial City, whether commoner, king, or mage, can scarcely trust their own ears.

Their Magic Emperor, mocking the Divine Spirit!

Many in the hall cannot help but look up at him in disbelief.