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Little Garden 286-290
🕑 Added 2025-11-01 09:32:52 +0000 UTCTitle: Good, Good, Good—So This Is What the White Night Demon Lord Is Like!
But that’s nearly impossible. Asking her to relinquish Kalki?
That would be even harder than asking her to give up her own life.
Kurma is a pure-blooded Dragon Race and a World Serpent. She merely needs to bear the weight of the world to become infinitely powerful. At the very least, the current Two-Digit elites are far from Kurma’s upper limit.
Mātariśvan’s Ark chose to merge with Little Garden, becoming Little Garden’s Ark of Salvation and transforming into a mechanical entity akin to the Winds of Decadence.
As long as Little Garden grows stronger, He too can advance. And once Little Garden inevitably approaches its end, He will also have the chance to become the new Little Garden.
As for Buddha… there’s no need to elaborate further. The World Preserver God-Spirit status of Vishnu cannot be separated from Buddhist teachings. The Ninth Incarnation is merely a tribute offered by Bhagavan.
He never imagined a being like Buddha would be interested in Vishnu’s God-Spirit Status.
Thus, in truth, the one most invested in the World Preserver God project of Vishnu is none other than Himself—Krishna. Everyone else, according to Krishna, are merely opportunists waiting to reap the fruits of His labor.
Here it is specifically mentioned—the treacherous son who stabbed the Holy Son in the back.
This is also the reason why He tirelessly manages Ouroboros without complaint.
Willing to seek a path in the morning and die by evening.
Having glimpsed the direction forward, no matter the price to pay or sins to bear, He will never stop until He either achieves His goal or falls.
Rishi Krishna was His name during the Two-Digit era. Orpheus the Poet was His name during the Four-Digit human era.
And His name during the Three-Digit era was—Vishnu.
Of course, all of this is merely His past, unworthy of outsiders’ knowledge. And as the sole Two-Digit poet in Little Garden, how much truth—and how much fabrication—lies within these accounts?
“I’m sure you’re aware now of the world codenamed ‘Campione!’, right?”
Aslan leaned back on the sofa, tilting his head as he looked at Krishna.
Hearing this, despite having ascended from human to Two-Digit and considering Himself highly knowledgeable, Krishna couldn’t help but twitch the corner of His mouth.
Observing other worlds? He had certainly done so during the Dawn Age. But a world as absurd as Campione!? This was truly the first time He’d ever encountered something so ridiculous.
Isn’t this world’s mythology a bit too impoverished?
Every god must wear countless masks just to stabilize their mythology.
Don’t pretend to be rich when you’re broke!
Who exactly are you trying to deceive?
Even Krishna now felt like He’d just been fed a load of utter nonsense.
Krishna nodded helplessly. It seemed even Two-Digits couldn’t fully control their own fate.
Fate really is a damn bastard.
“Don’t you think ‘Stray God,’ ‘The Fool,’ and ‘The Pact of the Gods’ fit the current situation perfectly?”
Aslan took a small sip of tea, then reached out and grabbed the one-eyed crow perched quietly beside Krishna’s hand, examining it curiously.
He studied this one-eyed crow with genuine interest. If His instincts were correct, this crow seemed to possess Four-Digit-level power.
When seized by Aslan, the crow clearly displayed a look of fear.
“What are you planning to do? You’re not going to flirt with a crow, are you?”
“No, no, no—I just want to check your gender.”
Aslan made a remark that sounded exactly like a mischievous child. But honestly, he wasn’t wrong.
In terms of both growth and age, he truly was still just a child.
“I’m merely a kid—what kind of bad ideas could I possibly have?”
Hearing this, the one-eyed crow couldn’t suppress another twitch and instinctively hid behind Krishna’s back.
“Brat… I hate brats the most.”
“Enough, Odin—stop causing trouble.”
Krishna frowned, clearly annoyed by Aslan and Odin.
“Huh? So you’re not dead yet?”
Aslan’s interest was instantly piqued by Krishna’s remark. He stared at Odin with intense curiosity.
(What if I leaked this news to the Halloween Queen?)
Aslan thought with wicked glee.
Indeed, no one who could be called “King of Gods” was ever simple. Nearly every such figure possessed unique talents.
The entire Norse pantheon had been obliterated by Dystopia back then—yet someone actually survived? Though their current state wasn’t exactly enviable.
While Aslan played with Odin, Krishna sank into deep contemplation.
He knew clearly that once information about the King of the End and that world was exposed, the absolute chaos He desired would surely erupt within Little Garden.
In such chaos, the growth of Kalki’s God-Spirit Status would be greatly accelerated.
If not for the high likelihood that Kalki would become a target—hunted and devoured by the King of the End’s God-Spirit—He would wholeheartedly support this chaos and even secretly toss in a few more barrels of explosives to fully ignite the situation in Little Garden.
But with Kalki as potential prey, this was extremely troublesome.
Unexpectedly, He—the leader of the Demon King Alliance, who had vowed to restore the chaos of the Dawn Age to Little Garden and usher in its end—had now voluntarily become its defender.
Thinking of this, Krishna let out a bitter, helpless smile.
He was utterly trapped.
The youth of this era truly were extraordinary. Regardless of whether this world emerged naturally or was orchestrated by someone…
Little Garden’s observation and the triggered mythological shift already indicated the other party’s plan had succeeded.
This time, Krishna admitted defeat.
Yet somehow, He sensed a faint, strange scent within this “accident.”
He looked back. Aslan returned His gaze with an utterly innocent smile.
(No, it couldn’t possibly be him. Just a Four-Digit, not even an Origin Candidate—at best, a holder of Alternate Cosmology. He lacks the qualifications.)
Krishna shook His head. Though Aslan was a genius, from the Dawn Age until now, from human to Two-Digit, He had witnessed countless beings far more brilliant than Aslan.
Even Canaria… Canaria?
Add her to the suspect list for now. Canaria lacked the power to create a mythological shift acknowledged by Little Garden’s Central Core.
Krishna leaned more toward the mastermind being someone on His own level.
Surely it couldn’t really be Shiroyasha… could it? Better to assume He was just unlucky.
Krishna’s expression instantly soured.
For some reason, the probability of Shiroyasha being the culprit kept rising in His mind.
It was common knowledge that holding Solar Authorities could interfere with Human History to a certain degree—even influencing Little Garden’s Central Core’s judgment.
Especially Ophiuchus, which could directly disrupt external organizations.
And Shiroyasha held fourteen Solar Authorities—naturally making him the prime suspect.
But did Shiroyasha even have the brains for this?
Or… had Shiroyasha been pretending all along? Krishna’s eyes gradually deepened with thought.
(Good, good, good—so this is what the White Night Demon Lord is like.)
(And Shiroyasha has lived long enough to qualify for knowing vast amounts of information.)
(He also has motive—after all, Shiroyasha deeply loves Little Garden.)
(As for Aslan… Shiroyasha is even more likely than him.)
Still, Krishna added both Aslan and Shiroyasha to His suspect list.
Just in case. No matter how slim the chance, it remained possible.
Miracles were never in short supply in Little Garden.
Pulling His thoughts back, Krishna roughly understood Aslan’s idea.
“You mean… giving them a fair chance to compete?”
Aslan nodded with an expression that said, “Finally, someone gets it.”
At the very least, it had to appear fair—and in Little Garden, there was a sufficiently fair mechanism:
The Gift Game.
“So, we’ll hold a massive-scale Gift Game solely to determine the King of the End candidate, right?”
“Doesn’t a King of the End God-Spirit, chosen and empowered by the gods with destiny and authority, sound absolutely perfect?”
Aslan flashed a faint smile and sat up a little straighter.
“Indeed, it sounds perfect.”
Krishna showed an agreeing smile. His gaze toward Aslan grew noticeably warmer.
Truly, the young had brilliant ideas.
This way, the positional overlap between the King of the End and Kalki could be perfectly avoided.
After all, Kalki is the divine Savior who descends at the end times.
Whereas the King of the End is the Savior chosen by the gods, entrusted with duty and destiny.
The latter could even be established as a unique position.
And being entrusted with duty and destiny was far more civilized than simply killing and devouring another’s God-Spirit.
Gathering the power of all gods and Buddhas in Little Garden, and jointly creating the Two-Digit King of the End Savior through the Pact of the Gods.
“Therefore, Lord Alliance Leader, I leave the crucial task of lobbying the other Full Domain Authorities to you.”
Aslan patted Krishna’s shoulder with a serious expression, barely stopping short of saying, “Do your best.”
If successful, he’d add an extra chicken thigh to Krishna’s bento box.
Krishna brushed away Aslan’s slightly grubby little hand with a sour expression. That hand had just been playing with Odin—don’t smear it on Him!
He felt utterly disgusted!!
“Then, Your Majesty Krishna, see you again… ah, no—see you another time.”
Having dumped all the follow-up work onto Krishna, Aslan clapped his hands cheerfully.
Krishna truly deserved to be the model worker among the Two-Digits. Such awareness, such foresight—truly remarkable.
Indeed, entrusting this matter to Krishna unexpectedly gave Aslan confidence.
So, just how skilled were the human attributes of this Krishna-tool?
Krishna surely hadn’t climbed to Two-Digit status easily.
“You’re really going to trust the words of this kid so readily?”
The one-eyed crow perched on Krishna’s shoulder tilted its head, regarding Him curiously.
“Even if I don’t trust him, I have no choice.”
Krishna sighed. If He wasn’t mistaken, Aslan had come with a mission too.
He had just tried tracing Aslan’s information source and examining Aslan’s God-Spirit structure—but saw a faint ‘α’ mark on him.
This clearly indicated that His Majesty did not wish for Little Garden to reach its end so soon.
How could He—the lowest-ranked among the Two-Digits—possibly dare oppose the will of that Great One?
This also neatly explained Aslan’s source of information.
-
Title: Indra: A Wicked Citizen Wants to Harm Me! A Wicked Citizen Wants to Harm Me!
Outer Gate 500, Headquarters of the Heavenly Army.
Prithvi held a stack of parchments stamped with the Two Goddesses’ insignia and waved them toward Indra.
“Old man Indra, the latest intel from Thousand Eyes—and it’s free! Want to see it or not?”
“Oh? Interesting? Given Thousand Eyes’ notoriously greedy nature, how come it’s free?”
Buried under a mountain of documents, Indra looked up with interest.
It was common knowledge that Thousand Eyes’ information was fair, objective, accurate, extremely timely, and never wrong.
But in exchange, their fees were astronomical—sometimes so exorbitant they could bankrupt entire pantheons.
Robbing money? Robbing money was faster than paying for their intel!
“It seems related to the recent mythological shift.”
Prithvi opened the document, cursing all the way as she read aloud.
“Thousand Eyes has been extorting money from me for years. Today, I finally get free intel from them!”
Gradually, her voice trailed off.
Sensing something was wrong, Indra lifted his head in confusion.
“Why aren’t you reading anymore?”
“You sure you want me to keep reading?”
Prithvi stared at him with a strange expression.
“What happened?”
Indra’s heart skipped a beat. A terrible premonition crept over him.
“Just read it yourself.”
Prithvi stood up, stepped forward, and handed the report to Indra—still muttering curses.
“Damn it… turns out the ‘free’ stuff is the most expensive. Old man Indra, you better brace yourself.”
“What on earth happened…”
Indra felt uneasy. He took the document and began to read.
[A newly observed universe recently triggered a large-scale mythological shift. The biggest difference between this universe and current Human History is...]
[In a certain parallel world, Verethragna serves as the King of the End.]
[The King of the End manifests at the end times—the final Savior, encompassing the Ten Avatars of Vishnu, the Holy Son’s faith, King Arthur the Eternal, the Future Buddha Maitreya...]
With a whoosh of wind, the document slipped from his hands and fell to the floor.
Prithvi watched as Indra’s nostrils suddenly flared, even emitting smoke—and remained silent.
“A wicked citizen wants to harm me!”
“A wicked citizen wants to harm me!”
Indra dropped to his knees on his office chair, clutching its backrest, screaming loudly. His voice was filled with terror and anxiety from being intimidated.
Uesugi Kenshin had just returned from an external mission. The moment she stepped through the door and heard Indra’s cries, she couldn’t help but glance toward Prithvi.
“What’s wrong with him?”
“Scared half to death by Thousand Eyes’ ‘free’ intel.”
Prithvi shrugged, picked up a pear from the desk, and handed it to Uesugi.
“I kept wondering why Thousand Eyes suddenly grew a conscience and gave away free intel. Turns out—it was just to scare people.”
“Where’s the report?”
Uesugi accepted the pear and asked curiously.
Prithvi let out a soft “puff” of laughter and pointed toward Indra.
“There it is. But my advice? Steel your nerves first.”
Frowning slightly, Uesugi took the document with mild curiosity, opened it, and began reading slowly.
She quietly flipped through the pages. Her reading pace quickened… until finally, she fell silent and looked up at Prithvi.
“How about I become the next leader of the Heavenly Army?”
“Get lost!”
Indra, hugging the sofa, immediately grabbed the nearest table and hurled it at Uesugi.
“I’m not dead yet!”
“I thought you’d be soon.”
Uesugi didn’t dodge. She let the table—and the documents on it—pass right through her, then spoke calmly.
Indra froze at her words, then snapped irritably:
“Can’t you stop gloating over other people’s suffering? I nearly died!”
“Aren’t you still alive?”
Uesugi looked utterly indifferent. After all, it wasn’t her who was suffering.
“You really are something, Uesugi.”
Prithvi burst into laughter.
“When the Heavenly Army elects a new leader, I’ll definitely cast my vote for you.”
“You two have no hearts…”
Indra ground his teeth furiously. He took several deep breaths before finally calming down.
“Who the hell made this cursed thing?”
“Didn’t the report already say? It’s a newly observed world detected by Little Garden’s Central Core—then Thousand Eyes got the world’s coordinates before anyone else.”
Uesugi took a calm bite of her pear.
“Nonsense. I don’t believe it. Unless those Two speak up themselves, the Heavenly Army handles world observation before Thousand Eyes does.”
Indra couldn’t help rolling his eyes. There were several worlds significantly affecting Little Garden that were still under the Heavenly Army’s jurisdiction.
Meanwhile, Prithvi wiped her mouth with a tissue.
“Of course, maybe you’re just incredibly unlucky—and the King of the End title just happened to land on you.”
Hearing that, Indra’s face darkened further.
(Damn it… just how bad is my luck that this happens to me? I’m perfectly happy with my current situation—I have zero intention of climbing higher!)
“This shouldn’t be happening. Am I really that terrible…?”
“Aren’t you lucky? You got an incomplete God-Spirit Status that’s at least One-Digit!”
Uesugi barely suppressed a laugh and patted Indra’s shoulder sympathetically.
“Do you think I’m short on God-Spirit Statuses? Mine wasn’t much better than this when I was still the Supreme Deity in Hinduism!”
Indra shouted furiously.
(Damn it! After coming this far, I still can’t escape being targeted!)
(Dare mess with me—I’ll make sure you regret it...)
“Try thinking about how you’ll face the Solar King Pantheon.”
Prithvi spoke casually—stabbing straight into Indra’s fragile heart just as he’d mustered a bit of courage.
Indra collapsed onto the sofa, utterly limp. His body twitched like a corpse.
(Dare mess with me—you’ve just kicked a sack of cotton!)
Regardless of who gave him that title, his top priority now was clearing his name.
“How about you ask Thousand Eyes directly? Since they released the intel, maybe there’s a follow-up.”
Uesugi said indifferently. She didn’t tell Indra that the incomplete King of the End God-Spirit Status might actually belong to her too.
She wanted to see just how deep this old man’s reserves really were—whether he was genuinely wounded or just pretending. After all, she treated him like livestock every day.
She had her own grudge to settle.
“Oh right, remember…”
Uesugi paused. She hadn’t finished her sentence—but Indra’s figure had already vanished.
“Remember to ask me why I also have a chance of becoming the King of the End.”
Uesugi and Prithvi exchanged glances. The room fell suddenly silent.
“Damn it—that old dog ran off too fast.”
Uesugi couldn’t help cursing. She’d still wanted to warn Indra to be careful not to get scammed by Thousand Eyes.
“Hmph. I hope this guy’s petty cash stash is enough to cover Thousand Eyes’ fees.”
Prithvi added helplessly.
One could only say Indra thoroughly deserved to be bled dry.
Ever since receiving that “free” intel from Thousand Eyes, Prithvi had sensed something off. Now she felt it was outright extortion.
Then, Prithvi and Uesugi fell silent.
“Oh no—the Heavenly Army’s treasury key is still with Indra!”
Minutes later, chaos erupted at the Heavenly Army Headquarters, accompanied by faint curses from several gods and buddhas.
◆━⊰✧⊱━◆
Meanwhile, at the Boundary Gate leading to Little Garden’s Lower Layers, Indra wiped his nose, patted his bulging pockets, and muttered to himself:
“Almost got caught. Can’t let that happen. Gotta leave quickly.”
As he said this, Indra unconsciously quickened his pace.
◆━⊰✧⊱━◆
Outer Gate 3345, Thousand Eyes Headquarters.
Shiroyasha, dressed in a purple kimono embroidered with peonies and maintaining the appearance of a young girl, happily counted the payment she’d just received for her intel.
“One Divine Artifact Authority, two Divine Artifact Authorities… one Divinity, two Divinities…”
“Hehehe… this time, I’ve really struck gold.”
Shiroyasha’s face showed an indescribable smile. Touching those Divine Artifact Authorities and Divinities felt like caressing a girl’s soft skin.
“Just wait a little longer—I’ll profit again soon. After that, I’ll take Aslan out to play in the City of Flowers.”
Footsteps approached.
The servant assigned to manage Shiroyasha’s residence at Thousand Eyes Headquarters came running.
“Lord Shiroyasha! His Majesty Indra requests an audience!”
Hearing this, Shiroyasha tucked away the Divine Artifacts and Divinities she’d just acquired and clapped her hands.
“Yoho! The money courier’s back!”
The moment those words left her mouth, a furious voice cut in:
“I couldn’t possibly have misheard that. What do you mean ‘money courier’?”
Before the messenger servant could even react, Indra was already standing behind him.
Shiroyasha waved the servant away and explained to Indra with a smile:
“Yo! If it isn’t old man Indra from next door? Why not go to the City of Flowers instead of wasting time wandering around our place?”
Indra couldn’t help but curse under his breath.
“Wandering? You’re just another greedy landlord pretending to be generous! Was that ‘free’ intel deliberately given to me?”
“That one?”
Shiroyasha clapped gleefully and pulled out a whiteboard.
“This is Thousand Eyes’ brand-new membership system! Anyone who purchases a certain amount of intel from us gets one free report as a bonus!”
Indra’s face instantly turned dark purple.
“Free?! Isn’t this pure extortion?”
“Hmm? Extortion? Extortion’s illegal. Thousand Eyes is an official intel agency.”
Shiroyasha spoke with absolute confidence.
“Just say it—do you want the follow-up intel or not?”
She extended her tiny hand, waving it in front of Indra, demanding payment.
“You…”
Indra muttered a quiet curse, completely lacking the fiery temper he’d shown earlier.
He had no choice. With such a massive target painted on his back, he genuinely didn’t dare refuse to buy the follow-up intel.
Moreover, he couldn’t afford to offend Shiroyasha. Not only was she the Two Goddesses’ top subordinate, but she was also a sealed Two-Digit entity in her own right.
Her position alone—as Chief of Staff of Thousand Eyes, overseeing top-tier critical intel—was enough to make her untouchable.
Would the Heavenly Army still dare purchase intel from Thousand Eyes in the future?
“No? Then I’ll be off.”
Shiroyasha turned her head and called out to the servant by the door:
“Julie, close the door on our guest. Today’s quota’s already met.”
“Wait, wait, wait! I’ll buy it—okay?!”
Indra hurriedly called after Shiroyasha. He didn’t want to end up murdered by an Alternate Cosmology someday, only for the Heavenly Army to rule it a suicide.
“That’s more like it.”
Shiroyasha’s expression instantly brightened into a radiant smile.
Indra’s face remained grim as he spoke in a thick, heavy voice:
“The intel about that Campione! World—Verethragna there, and the King of the End. I want deeper details… even hints will do.”
As he said this, Indra fixed Shiroyasha with a cold stare:
“Don’t tell me you don’t know anything. You’ve already extorted me right in front of my eyes.”
Shiroyasha smiled, extended her small hand, and waved it teasingly before Indra.
“Five Divine Artifact Powers? Are you robbing me?”
Indra’s eyes bulged in disbelief.
“Robbing? Robbing what’s faster than paying this money?”
Shiroyasha narrowed her eyes, speaking with glee. Truthfully, she’d originally intended to ask for five Divinities—and it was still negotiable.
But who told Indra to be so proactive?
Of course, she’d deliberately kept that to herself.
She’d just scammed a few old folks. One had to admit—old people really did have money.
“You…”
Indra fell speechless for a moment, sighed deeply, then gritted his teeth:
“One Divine Artifact Authority! Not a single bit more!”
“I need to know who’s plotting against me!”
At the same time, Indra was slightly anxious—what if Shiroyasha refused to sell because the price was too low?
Shiroyasha paused briefly. Indra hesitated, then tried raising his offer:
“Two Divine Artifact Authorities. Any more, and I’ll truly be broke!”
“Deal. Pay up.”
Shiroyasha knew when to stop. After all, she still had future business to consider—and fools like this were hard to come by.
Indra fell silent for a moment, then spoke with a pained expression:
“Damn it… I’ve been scammed!! You old witch—I knew you’d take this chance to fleece me!”
Grumbling, Indra pulled out two Divine Artifact Authorities from his petty cash stash and handed them to Shiroyasha.
Shiroyasha cheerfully tossed both authorities into her pocket, then grabbed a pre-written intel sheet and tossed it to Indra.
Indra’s eyebrow twitched violently as he took the parchment without expression, opened it, and read:
[King of the End Qualification Requirements: Simply being a Steel Hero fulfills the basic criteria!]
[Verethragna becoming King of the End is merely a parallel-world possibility. The current King of the End is Arthur.]
[Two Goddesses Intelligence Department, Special Investigator Aslan. Avalon, Leader Arthur.]
Indra stared at the intel—stunned.
(Damn it… this piece of junk… cost me two Divine Artifact Authorities?!)
It was utterly worthless!!
Indra slammed the scroll onto the floor and shouted furiously:
“You damn Central Core—you’re playing me!”
Shiroyasha rolled her eyes.
“Alright, hurry up and leave. Don’t ruin my next deal.”
Indra’s breath caught in his throat. He stormed out of Thousand Eyes in rage—but the moment he spotted an acquaintance approaching, his expression instantly changed, pretending he’d just scored a major breakthrough.
(Damn it… I can’t shoulder a loss this big alone!)
He then quietly sought out some bushes and squatted down.
But before he could settle in, a gruff voice sounded:
“Someone’s already here.”
“Damn!!”
Indra cursed inwardly and moved to another bush.
“Someone’s here too!”
“Damn!!!”
Finally, he found a spot next to Heracles.
“Brother, how much did they scam you for?”
“Two Divine Artifact Authorities… You?”
“… Two Divinities…”
“Shiroyasha—I swear to god, f*** you*****!”
Indra cursed with extreme vulgarity.
-
Title: What?! The Holy Son Is Joining Too?
Outer Gate 3345, Thousand Eyes Headquarters.
Shiroyasha happily counted the Divine Artifact Authorities and Powers she’d just acquired.
As for Aslan, he quietly read the information shared by Krishna.
“God Slayer War! A massive-scale Gift Game? This efficiency is truly astonishing. It’s only been a short while, yet the game rules are already finalized.”
Aslan was stunned by the report. If this task had been left to him to negotiate, only Two-Digits and the largest pantheons might have given him the time of day.
Mid-tier, small, and micro pantheons wouldn’t necessarily even let him through the door—let alone discuss something as critical as the King of the End.
Only Krishna and Ouroboros possessed that kind of influence.
He’d always hated tedious, drawn-out complications.
As he muttered this, Aslan continued flipping through the Gift Game details and the participant list on the following pages.
【Gift Game: God Slayer War!】
【Participants: God Slayers! Or Stray Gods】
【Participation Qualifications:
1. A god who dispatches a Stray God incarnation.
2. A God Slayer! Who kills a Stray God under fair conditions.】
【Game Overview: Gods who defy mythology send down Stray incarnations, bring calamity, and seize merits and faith. The Foolish God-Slayer slays the Stray God, acquires Divine Authorities, becomes the Devil King, and rules the earth. And the final Savior shall annihilate everything.】
【Loss Condition: Death. (God Slayers! May prepare resurrection methods in advance but will lose one Divine Authority; Stray Gods will lose their incarnation.)】
【Victory Condition: Survive until the war’s end and defeat the King of the End.】
【The winner shall bear the destiny and responsibilities bestowed by the gods and become the new King of the End.】
【Oath: By honor and banner, we hereby swear to abide by the above rules and conduct this game fairly.】
【Signatories: Heavenly Army, Thousand Eyes, Greek Pantheon, Egyptian Pantheon, Halloween Queen, Cross Pantheon, Buddhist Gate… [Sealed]】
Aslan had nothing to say about this.
In short, to him, this “God Slayer War” was nothing more than a battle over Authorities and faith.
After all, faith in the Lower Layers was tightly monopolized by the Upper Layer’s major pantheons, causing deep resentment among many mid- and small-sized pantheons. This war gave them a chance to reclaim that faith.
Participating as a Stray God offered additional benefits—they could seize the opportunity to absorb a powerful God-Spirit specifically formed by the God Slayer! World’s initial faith.
As for needing another God-Spirit later? That could always be negotiated through interests. Losing a God-Spirit didn’t necessarily mean certain death.
And God Slayers were even simpler to explain: each time they killed a Stray God, they gained one Divine Authority.
This was clearly an Authority-hunting arena.
He just didn’t know how many old-timers wouldn’t resist the temptation to descend as humans or incarnate as Stray Gods.
Aslan knew one thing for sure: with this pact signed, Little Garden was about to get very, very noisy.
However, all this applied only to those unqualified to directly compete for the King of the End title.
Aslan flipped another page. This one was reserved for internal personnel like himself—the hidden participation agreement.
【God Slayers and Stray Gods may not use Host Master Authority. Doing so constitutes voluntary forfeiture of participation rights and an admission of defeat.】
【Furthermore, the identity of the King of the End has been confirmed: Arthur. However, Arthur is currently asleep and will not awaken as Savior to purge those causing chaos unless the damage reaches catastrophic levels.】
【The King of the End’s power equals the combined strength of all participating Stray Gods and God Slayers.】
【Any Stray God with Steel attributes qualifies to become King of the End. And any God Slayer who slays the King of the End may claim the King of the End’s destiny.】
This was a Battle Royale. Only the last one standing could become the King of the End.
Of course, eliminated participants would still receive compensation: God Slayers kept their Divine Authorities, and Stray Gods retained the faith they’d gathered—both serving as consolation Gifts.
Yet one detail genuinely surprised Aslan: this Arthur’s position was far too advantageous. He only needed to defeat the remaining Stray Gods and God Slayers at the very end to win.
He couldn’t help but wonder—what price had the Halloween Queen paid for this? Or were they simply trying to stabilize the situation?
Of course, there was another possibility: perhaps they assumed this “new” Arthur was weak and easily defeated. As long as only one participant remained at the end…
In a balanced-power scenario, they were confident they could crush him themselves.
“Heh… underestimated, huh.”
Aslan chuckled softly and kept flipping through the document. The first page outlined the Gift Game, the second revealed hidden rules, and the third listed participants—more precisely, entry order.
The earliest entrants were inevitably mid/small pantheons, rogue God Slayers, or subordinates of major pantheons.
They likely didn’t even know about the hidden agreement—they were just there to warm up the battlefield.
Next came the Kings of Gods from major pantheons. This was the truly critical phase for entry timing. Earlier entry naturally conferred greater advantage.
Of course, under unspoken mutual understanding, stronger Kings of Gods would deliberately enter later.
Take Indra, for example—Aslan saw his scheduled entry time was nearly at the war’s end, precisely when he’d be immediately surrounded upon arrival.
Seeing this, Aslan gently picked up his teacup, took a small sip, and continued reading, piecing together the full picture of the upcoming God Slayer War.
“Pfff—”
Aslan couldn’t help it—he spat out a mouthful of tea, splashing Shiroyasha.
“What’s wrong with you?”
Shiroyasha, too absorbed in counting her spoils to dodge, got drenched and glared at him furiously.
If not for the fact she’d just extorted a fortune from that old man, she’d have lost patience long ago and taken action.
Even though Aslan was her most loyal subordinate, she wouldn’t hesitate.
“Uh-uh… sorry. This intel just made me choke.”
Aslan coughed twice, then took several deep breaths to calm himself.
Shiroyasha waved a hand dismissively, grabbed a towel to dry herself, and leaned toward Aslan curiously.
“What intel shocked you this much?”
She casually took his teacup, sipped it, accepted the document Aslan handed her, and began reading.
“The Holy Son, Jesus, will descend as a human tomorrow, incarnating as a God Slayer to participate in the God Slayer War!…”
“Pff!!!”
Shiroyasha also couldn’t hold it in—she spat out her mouthful of tea.
“What the hell?! The Holy Son is joining too?!”
Shiroyasha was utterly dumbfounded. She rubbed her eyes and carefully reread the report.
After checking it back and forth several times, the message remained unchanged.
“Aslan, pinch me quick—I suspect I’m still dreaming.”
Shiroyasha spoke with existential doubt.
Aslan, of course, didn’t refuse—he immediately pinched Shiroyasha’s cheek hard.
“Hey! I said pinch me, not pinch my cheek!”
Shiroyasha rolled her eyes in annoyance and quickly refocused on the document.
“But seriously—where’s the Holy Son’s dignity? Does this guy have zero shame left?”
“Participating in the God Slayer War as a Two-Digit… and being the first to descend.”
Shiroyasha truly hadn’t expected this. Not even Aslan had foreseen it.
He’d only meant to trick other Three-Digits. Who knew the Holy Son would shamelessly jump in like this?
What did He stand to gain? A Two-Digit being, bored enough to compete for a chance to… become Two-Digit again?
Couldn’t He just use this opportunity to perfect His Trinity God-Spirit?
“Could it be… His Holy Son God-Spirit is genuinely destabilized?”
Aslan immediately considered one possibility—he dared not imagine his own historical narrative attacks had been that effective.
“…Impossible, right? He’s a Two-Digit.”
Shiroyasha’s lips twitched as she spoke, sounding skeptical.
She herself was a Two-Digit. No one understood better than her the power and nature of Two-Digits. Under the influence of Truth, time, causality, and fate were mere toys to them.
A mere rumor-based assault— at most, it was just the observation in certain parallel worlds that Judas killed Jesus and replaced Him.
That didn’t even qualify as a Historical Transition Period… How could it possibly shake a Two-Digit’s God-Spirit?
It should be noted that the Holy Son’s God-Spirit was built upon His merit of founding Christianity across countless worlds—a sect with two billion adherents in the modern era.
And having already reached Two-Digit status, He was, to a certain degree, an existence standing on equal footing with Little Garden’s Central Core. Even the Central Core couldn’t interfere with another’s God-Spirit. He had long since become a self-sufficient, noble entity independent of Little Garden.
It’d be like saying Yugong moved Mount Buzhou—an absurdly abstract analogy.
“But… the probability isn’t zero, is it?”
Aslan’s gaze lingered on Shiroyasha for a moment before he spoke. There was a perfect example right in front of him.
“Boss, weren’t you cast below the horizon because the Geocentric Theory was rejected, causing your God-Spirit to continuously shrink?”
The words left his mouth…
*WHACK!*
A fan smacked Aslan squarely on the head.
“You’re usually smart—why are you being stupid now?”
Shiroyasha said irritably.
“What I lost was merely the qualification to demonstrate that power within Little Garden. Aside from a few defeats, my God-Spirit has never been weakened!”
“Outside this universe or when activating Host Master Authority, I’m still the undefeated White Night Demon Lord!”
Aslan clutched his head in pain and nodded.
“But then… what about the Holy Son? What’s His situation?”
Aslan looked at her, confused.
But when he lifted his head, he saw the same bewilderment reflected in Shiroyasha’s eyes. She blinked her innocent, wide eyes.
“You’re asking me? Who am I supposed to ask?”
Shiroyasha spread her hands, signaling she had no idea. She was indeed a Two-Digit—but she’d never mingled in Two-Digit circles.
How many years had she been sealed? She didn’t even know when the Holy Son had ascended to Two-Digit status.
Two-Digit existences could easily block and scramble their own information. And due to the principle that “anything spoken will be known,” their intel was nearly impossible to leak.
Even Thousand Eyes could only suspect—based on current data—that certain beings were Two-Digits.
Though such suspicions were almost as good as solid proof, they remained suspicions precisely because they couldn’t be verified.
There was even a joke in Thousand Eyes’ database: the probability that Indra—the former Supreme Deity of Hinduism—was a Two-Digit ranked highest of all.
In the end, Indra himself bought that intel… just to keep it from spreading.
-
Title: Human History: I Want God History to Die!!!
“So… what now?”
Aslan looked at Shiroyasha helplessly. He’d originally just wanted to prank the gods and scoop up a bit of merit and loot along the way.
But now the Holy Son himself was descending directly?
He couldn’t even begin to guess how much the other side had paid to silence other existences.
But Aslan certainly wasn’t about to let the Holy Son walk away with this advantage.
He hadn’t even finished settling the score with Mithras for attacking him.
“Fine. If the Holy Son wants to play, I’ll play even bigger.”
Aslan’s eyes flickered slightly. He turned to Shiroyasha with a manic grin.
“Boss… how about we drag God History into the water with us?”
Shiroyasha looked intrigued and asked, “What do you mean?”
“How, huh?”
Aslan raised an eyebrow, immediately pulled out the Unofficial History, tossed it to Shiroyasha, and leaned back on the sofa.
“Perhaps the most terrifying truth of the Campione! World isn’t that hundreds of gods are staging all the mythologies from Human History.”
“But that the world’s mythology was woven by humans to bind the gods. In other words—it’s a human-made worldview of the gods.”
“Hah?”
Shiroyasha’s voice rose slightly in surprise.
“How much hatred does this world hold toward Little Garden?”
Even Shiroyasha felt a little numb.
She’d thought gods concealing each other’s identities was already the height of secrecy—but it turned out there was an even greater player.
If this truth were ever revealed, the resulting earthquake would be unimaginable.
“If not, then how do you think this thing appeared?”
Aslan rolled his eyes irritably.
“However, because the Campione! War will inevitably cause shifts in God History—and Stray Gods can subtly nudge God History toward Mythology—this is seen as giving us an opportunity.”
“A one-time chance to drag the gods into the water.”
As he said this, Aslan tilted his head and looked at Shiroyasha with utter seriousness.
“And Boss, you’re a Star Spirit—so the transformation of God History into Mythology won’t affect you.”
“And letting gods be subordinate to humans…”
Aslan’s voice gradually lowered at the end. He truly didn’t know what consequences this would unleash.
He only knew that whether “gods created humans” or “humans created gods” seemed to be a profoundly critical question in Little Garden—so critical, in fact, that Origin Candidates were created specifically to answer it.
*WHACK!*
Shiroyasha slammed her fan onto Aslan’s head, her face flushed with exasperation.
“You really went and did something huge behind my back!”
“Have you been wearing the ‘Last Trial of Mankind’ identity for so long that you actually think you are the Last Trial of Mankind?”
Shiroyasha was nearly scared half to death. Thankfully, Aslan had told her beforehand—if he’d really gone ahead without warning, Little Garden might’ve actually exploded.
“You know about the Origin Candidates? After the Dawn Age, the Origin Candidates have spent at least a century—but still haven’t decided which answer is correct. Do you know why?”
“It’s because our Boss is controlling the situation, deliberately preventing the true answer from being settled—avoiding a definitive resolution.”
“Only by maintaining both possibilities simultaneously can humans ascend to godhood, and gods create humans—becoming Three-Digit existences.”
“All living beings can rely on the possibility of ‘human-made gods’ to ascend to godhood and reach Three-Digit status. All non-humans can rely on creating humans, becoming Creators, and stepping into Three-Digit existence.”
“This paradox exists precisely to allow every God-Spirit-bearing entity across Little Garden the potential to reach Three-Digit status.”
“Sssht~~”
Hearing the true function of this paradox, Aslan couldn’t help but suck in a sharp breath.
For some reason, he now felt even more tempted to disrupt this paradox.
Not for any particular reason—just out of sheer curiosity to see what consequences would unfold.
Still, Aslan roughly grasped the paradox’s true purpose—it was almost like the black and white Qi in Jackie Chan Adventures, where you step on your right foot with your left to ascend to heaven.
You gain concepts and possibilities through human-made gods, then realize those possibilities through human-made gods.
It aligned with his initial suspicion: ultimately, it was about making the false become real.
Thinking this, Aslan grew even more curious.
“But what about the conflict between Human History and Little Garden’s convergence?”
The contradiction between Human History and God History seemed far more complex than the simple dichotomy of “gods creating humans” versus “humans creating gods.”
The latter was an oppositional unity—a dualistic balance, stepping on your right foot with your left to climb to heaven.
But the former felt more like an eternal, unresolvable enmity.
It even gave Aslan the distinct impression:
“Human History: I want God History to die!!!”
Human History didn’t care about Little Garden’s internal politics or hierarchies.
At least, that’s what Aslan had felt when wearing the “Last Trial of Mankind” identity.
Otherwise, something like the Unofficial History wouldn’t have manifested so quickly.
“You’re asking me? Who am I supposed to ask?”
Shiroyasha rolled her eyes, thoroughly annoyed.
“How would I know how they ended up like this?”
“Maybe… Little Garden really does need change?”
Shiroyasha murmured softly, then glanced at him.
But thankfully, at least there was Aslan.
In her heart, Little Garden truly was moving toward a better path.
“Whatever. I don’t care anymore. Just do whatever you want!”
After a long pause, Shiroyasha tugged at her hair in frustration. Thinking clearly wasn’t her strong suit.
“I’m just warning you about the risks involved. At worst, I’ll reclaim my Geocentric Theory God-Spirit—and I’ll cause massive chaos right alongside you!!”
She patted Aslan’s shoulder. After deep contemplation, she’d concluded the best approach for her was to empty her mind entirely.
Thinking really wasn’t her thing.
“Wait… Boss, I think I know why the Holy Son is so anxious.”
Shiroyasha’s tap had sparked an epiphany—especially since Aslan had been up to far too much.
There were many things he wouldn’t remember unless he carefully reflected on them.
“If I’m not mistaken… I once created the Dystopia world before—”
But before Aslan could finish, Shiroyasha grabbed her fan again and smacked his head.
“How many things have you been hiding from me?!”
Shiroyasha’s heart pounded. If other secrets were manageable, Dystopia was a whole different level of trouble.
Next time, she resolved, she’d demand a full confession from Aslan about every “good deed” he’d done outside. Otherwise, she might end up dying alongside him—and that wouldn’t do at all.
“.........”
Aslan looked at her with profound sadness. Was it really him hiding things from Shiroyasha? Clearly, it was because she’d been too exhausted to look—and even if she had, she might not have understood.
“Uh… uh… Next time you cause trouble, make sure you tell me first, okay?”
Shiroyasha patted Aslan’s shoulder somewhat awkwardly, then quietly split half of the Divinities and Authorities she’d just acquired and slipped them into his arms.
“Alright.”
Aslan gave a small nod and accepted the dozens of Divine Artifact Powers and several Authorities.
“Okay, now tell me in detail about that Dystopia woman.”
Shiroyasha gave Aslan a strange look, her expression slightly distorted.
What was going on? Suddenly, she felt this kid’s romantic luck was way too strong.
And if she wasn’t mistaken, most of the powerful beings associating with him were strong women.
Herself, Algol, the Halloween Queen, Ahriman, Athena—that was already five.
Now add Yahweh?
Wait—this was her kid! Why did everyone want a piece of him?
“What’s there to tell? Maybe I was just moved in the moment—felt Dystopia might help me someday in the future—so I tried reviving her.”
As he finished speaking, Aslan couldn’t help clicking his tongue. Giles hadn’t been saved by Izayoi—fine. The Monkey Girl was understandable since she was an Earth Semi-Star Spirit. But why couldn’t even Dystopia save his Giles?
As for who Dystopia actually was? Aslan had already roughly guessed.
After all, from the state of the Church after Dystopia vanished, it was clear that one-third of the world’s population were Christian followers—a feat not easily achieved.
The only truth was this: the Church at that time—or the One True Yahweh—was Dystopia.
This also explained why, despite Aslan having been in Little Garden for so long and even remotely interacting with the Holy Son, he’d never detected any trace of Yahweh’s activity.
“As for the Holy Son’s issue… perhaps when Dystopia returns to reclaim her power, she might attack him?”
“It’s hard to say the Holy Son reached Two-Digit status without taking advantage of Dystopia back then.”
This likely also explained why the gods of Little Garden and Arcadia gained zero merit after Canaria crossed through Dystopia.
How ironic—everything had already been claimed by someone else.
One Dystopia fell… and somehow reached at least Two-Digit status?
“No wonder He’s so desperately chasing the King of the End God-Spirit—He doesn’t even care about saving face anymore.”
Aslan clicked his tongue.
“I just wonder how much Christianity paid for this opportunity… how much blood the Holy Son himself spilled.”
When he finished speaking, Shiroyasha stared at him in utter shock—as if she’d just patted her own chest to calm her lingering fear.
“Thank goodness you’re my kid. If not, I’d be too scared to sleep peacefully at night.”
Look at the Holy Son’s fate. Just for offending Aslan, he ended up like this.
And Ouroboros, who’d last clashed with Aslan, had already been reorganized into Hydra—with its largest serpent head right here.
Most importantly—they didn’t even know who the mastermind was.
Shiroyasha had absolutely no idea how many disasters she’d already shouldered on Aslan’s behalf.
-
Title: Athena and Algol
Merlin is a woman.
Southern District, Outer Gate 90,000, Umbrella Corporation Headquarters.
Dressed in a neat, authoritative women’s business suit, Aishelia lounged casually on a leather sofa, observing the girl before her—Asagi—with her braided hair and ordinary appearance.
“Miss Aishelia, we’ve clearly outlined our advantages. By combining your biotechnology with our Magitech, we can fully collaborate to further develop biological weaponry.”
Asagi pushed the documents in her hands toward Aishelia and spoke with perfect calm.
Inside, however, she couldn’t help but sigh—yes, sigh about Aslan’s irresponsibility. Could an industry of this scale really be tossed aside so carelessly?
As a result, they now had to clean up Aslan’s mess.
More precisely: take over Umbrella Corporation and use it as a pretext to join Hydra, becoming one of its serpent heads.
Ever since Angra Mainyu’s exile, the Umbrella Corporation founded by Aslan had unexpectedly thrived under Aishelia and Merlin’s management.
But this created a problem for Aslan. Strictly speaking, it was his industry—but reclaiming it wasn’t easy. He could only approach it indirectly through cooperation.
And Aishelia was even more awkward about it. With Ouroboros disbanded, she—a former Ouroboros spy—was left in an extremely uncomfortable position.
The crux of the matter was this: she couldn’t just abandon Angra Mainyu’s legacy, yet continuing it felt equally impossible.
Athena remained silent, offering no guidance on what she should do next.
As for Merlin, the pressure on her was immense due to King Arthur’s return. She also had to support Arthur’s successor.
Now, faced with another party’s cooperation request, she found the whole situation deeply troublesome.
She was an exceptional knight and a capable leader—but somewhat lacking in technological expertise and negotiation skills.
This ultimately led to the current abstract outcome. The real issue? This entire operation had been built by the “Last Trial of Mankind.” She couldn’t find anyone suitable to hand it off to.
Just as she was lost in thought, the communication Gift embedded in her body suddenly vibrated. Aishelia excused herself briefly, pulled out her phone, and checked the message.
“You’re going to keep playing your management game forever? It’s time to return.”
A faint smile appeared on Aishelia’s lips.
Had Goddess Athena finally remembered her? Though it was common in Little Garden for missions to last anywhere from a few years to centuries…
A meaningless vacation where she didn’t even know what to do—that was something she’d never experienced before.
“Yes, Goddess Athena.”
After silently praying in her heart, Aishelia lifted her head and studied Asagi—the envoy sent by the Blood Empire, which had recently gained fame after occupying Outer Gate 6666, formerly the domain of the Asura Tribe.
“Cooperation?”
Aishelia tapped the table, deep in thought. What if she simply withdrew right now?
No. That cunning woman, Merlin, hadn’t said a word yet—it was better to maintain the status quo.
But… Goddess Athena was calling her back?
Aishelia smiled faintly and fixed her gaze on Asagi.
“Cooperation is possible—but I have one condition…”
Ten minutes later, Asagi stared blankly at herself, now seated as acting leader of Umbrella Corporation, lost in thought.
What had just happened? It seemed she’d somehow taken on extra unpaid work.
The fate of hardworking employees truly was tragic…
After sighing deeply, Asagi immediately resumed her tireless duties.
In truth, with Aslan and Leticia’s backing, the Blood Empire—founded by refugees from the Strike the Blood world—had grown at a staggering pace.
Especially after Aslan captured a certain Asura Tribe queen and seized their territory.
Though only one or two months had passed, the Blood Empire was already recognized as a Four-Digit-influential Community—qualified to rival even Avalon.
After all, the other three Primogenitors possessed formidable strength. Having absorbed the merits of ruling their world for millennia, all had reached Four-Digit levels and could summon a significant number of Five-Digit Beast Vassals.
Their power was strong, their morale rivaled that of Little Garden’s knights, and with Aslan and Leticia’s support, their backing was anything but weak.
They’d purged Demon Lords, established livelihoods for communities—and their rise had been meteoric.
Now, they stood as the strongest force under Aslan’s command.
◆━⊰✧⊱━◆
Outer Gate 1224, Perseus Headquarters.
A goddess adorned with an olive wreath gently stepped through a doorway.
Beyond it lay the true sealed chamber containing Algol’s separated power and God-Spirit.
Though the Baphomet Star currently in Aslan’s possession was Algol’s original body, nearly all her strength had long since been stripped away.
Athena sighed helplessly.
“If I could, I truly wouldn’t come here.”
Just imagining sharing the same air as Algol made Athena feel nauseous.
She’d already decided: she’d hold her breath and not inhale. After all, gods and buddhas born naturally wouldn’t die from holding their breath.
At that very moment, inside a palace filled with countless mirrors,
A purple-clad girl—charming, childlike, beautiful, and ageless—suddenly lifted her head with bright excitement.
Algol tilted her head and looked toward the chamber door.
Outside the exit, in a spot untouched by mirrors, olive branches sprouted from the ground, and white olive blossoms bloomed.
Then, the branches transformed into a golden-haired woman clad in white robes, wearing an olive wreath upon her head.
Seeing this, Algol turned around, lounged sideways on the bed, and spoke with three parts indifference and seven parts mockery:
“Ugly woman! You’ve finally come looking for AI-chan! Do you even know how long AI-chan waited for you? AI-chan didn’t even get to take a pretty nap!”
Athena’s expression froze the moment she materialized. The words she’d prepared lodged in her throat, unable to escape.
(You sure weren’t sleeping—weren’t you and Aslan playing all night? And dragging my other self into it too?)
That’s why she’d failed to organize intel and plan her next move last night.
If only she’d known, she wouldn’t have transferred part of her essence to that other Athena so hastily.
After three seconds of silence, Athena spoke coldly:
“I’m not here to argue! I’ve come to free you!”
Algol picked up a small mirror, took a wooden comb, and while brushing her hair, replied disdainfully:
“Nope. AI-chan is perfectly comfy in here—doesn’t wanna leave.”
As she spoke, a sly expression crossed Algol’s face.
“Unless… a girl as stunningly beautiful as AI-chan herself is willing to escort AI-chan out.”
Hearing this, Athena instinctively wanted to protest.
In her view, her beauty was in no way inferior to Algol’s.
But she quickly grasped Algol’s logic. In Algol’s mind, the most beautiful girl in Little Garden was none other than herself.
And the only one whose appearance rivaled hers… was another Algol.
Algol wanted her to transform into her likeness…
“Impossible. You’re dreaming!”
Athena shot back instinctively.
Algol shrugged casually, picked up her lipstick, and applied it before the mirror.
“Then AI-chan will just stay here.”
“AI-chan—so exquisitely beautiful—will only leave with someone as gorgeous as herself.”
“This place doesn’t accept ugly women!”
As she spoke, Algol gently tapped the floor.
A grandfather clock suddenly rose from beneath the ground, its hands pointing precisely to noon.
A cuckoo bird popped out.
“Ugly woman! Ugly woman! Caw! Caw!”
The bird hopped in and out of the clock repeatedly.
This made Athena frown deeply.
“Can’t we just talk reasonably?”
Algol continued applying her lipstick calmly, showing no intention of responding.
After all, though her relationship with Athena had cooled thanks to Aslan, that didn’t mean she’d forgive and forget everything Athena had done to her with a smile.
Athena watched Algol silently. The noisy cuckoo kept squawking “ugly woman” over and over.
Suppressing the urge to smash the bird into dust, Athena spoke evenly:
“I can promise you any single condition you desire.”
“Hmm?”
Algol paused, turned her head, and looked at Athena with mild surprise.
“Hmm? Are you insane? You’d agree to a condition like that?”
“I always thought your looks were subpar, but your brain was decent. Now even your brain’s gone haywire?”
Athena instantly lost the will to speak.
Right now, she’d rather rip out Algol’s revolting mouth than negotiate.
“I’ll say it once more: I can grant you any single condition—as long as you agree to leave.”
Athena’s face was utterly expressionless, radiating icy calm.
Algol observed this, tilted her head, and spoke with faint disgust:
“What scheme are you plotting now?”
“A condition like this… doesn’t sound like something you’d ever accept.”
“No. I’m not scheming anything.”
Athena spoke with serene composure.
“I genuinely intend to make peace with you.”
Algol fell silent for a moment, then gave a helpless smile.
“Of course. AI-chan still can’t understand the over-the-top thinking of ugly people like you.”
Did it really have to come to this? Couldn’t she just become Trinitarian Medusa through the Medusa God-Spirit path she had set?
Why did she have to oppose that Athena?
She honestly couldn’t tell if this crazy Athena was doing this for pride… or to reach Two-Digit status.
Algol shook her head, set down the lipstick, admired her flawless reflection in the mirror, smiled, and said:
“Well then… how could there possibly be two girls as beautiful as AI-chan?”
