Extraordinary Rise: Starting Contract with the Silver Dragon Countess

As Cohen finished speaking, some of the phantoms of gods in the sky seemed to tremble slightly, as if they felt that the answer was both expected (after all, the conflict between gods and mortals often ends up resorting to force) and somewhat disappointed (what kind of method is this?).

The dark vortex containing Erebus, the god of darkness, emitted a faint hissing sound, as if saying:

Overestimating one's abilities.

But Cohen immediately added:
"Of course, it won't be the start of a divine war."

"Oh?"

Ares Beacon, the god of battle and war, stared at Cohen with great interest and asked:
"If we don't start a war of gods, then who will fight, and how will they fight?"

Cohen said, enunciating each word clearly:

"Fight me."

After a pause, he continued:

“You Black Tomb,” he said, looking toward the tomb, “Southern Empire,” then his gaze shifted to Drummond Quinn, “Eastern Empire,” sweeping over Gnus Tang, “and the Central Empire’s House of Nobles,” finally settling on Roosevelt Harper.

"You have gathered here today, mobilized a large army, and besieged the city, all for the sake of the divine status in my wife."

So, it's very simple.

You may each choose one of the strongest legendary-level transcendents in your faction, the one you believe is worthy to represent your will, and bring them forward.

Then, let them—

He paused, his gaze sweeping over the four men—the grave, Roosevelt, Gnus, and Drummond—before uttering in a chillingly calm tone the words that made everyone's pupils shrink once more:

"Fight me!"

“I am Cohen Corleone, Emperor of Effie!”
"I accept the offer from your four factions, each to send one legendary extraordinary individual to fight against me."

He paused, seemingly choosing his words carefully, then added a sentence that struck like a thunderbolt, completely igniting the entire room:
"And I allow you all to come at me together."

The four legendary-level extraordinary individuals selected by you from all four sides can attack me simultaneously.

I, alone, am fighting four.

Dead silence.

The silence was even more profound than when the God of Prophecy had singled out Cohen earlier.

The moment everyone heard the words "go together" and "one against four," their brains seemed to freeze, and they lost their ability to think.

A peak Gold-tier player facing off against four Legendary-tier players?
And it was one against four?

This can no longer be described as "arrogant," "conceited," or "crazy."

This is simply... courting death, an act of pure suicide!

Legendary status versus gold—the difference is like an insurmountable chasm.

A legendary powerhouse is enough to easily crush dozens or even hundreds of well-coordinated peak Gold-rank experts.

What's more, if four legends join forces? That would be a crushing defeat with no suspense whatsoever.

Even the gods in the sky, who held the laws, overlooked the changing of eras, and were accustomed to countless storms and incredible events, couldn't help but show obvious shock on their faces after hearing Cohen's calm yet earth-shattering proposal.

Ares the God of War wondered if there was something wrong with his hearing, which had been honed through countless battles.

Even He, who revels in battle, has never seen such an... outrageous challenge.

On the dignified and noble face of the sea god Octavian the Abyss, his brows furrowed slightly, and a hint of surprise flashed in his eyes.

Leonard Augustus, standing next to her, grinned, revealing a strange expression that seemed to mix "this kid's interesting" and "is he tired of living?"

Cohen seemed oblivious to the stares he received, as if he were a madman, and continued calmly:

"With the gods as witnesses, this battle will determine who will be granted godhood and the outcome of this conflict today."

"If you four join forces and send four legendary-level transcendents who defeat me in battle, then you may take the divine essence from my wife. I, and the Efein Empire, will not interfere, nor will we pursue the matter further."

“But,” he abruptly changed his tone, his voice suddenly taking on a chilling sharpness, “if you lose…”

His gaze, like a cold blade, swept over the four demigods once more.

"Then, from this day forward, you Black Tomb, Southern Empire, Eastern Empire, and the Central Empire's Noble Council are never allowed to covet the divine status of my wife in any form or for any reason. This is the first rule."

"Secondly," Cohen's voice grew even colder, "you four factions must pay substantial compensation for the damage caused by this unprovoked invasion and the destruction inflicted upon the city of Florence!"

Cohen's words were firm and left no room for negotiation.

"This is my method."

After Cohen finished speaking, he fell silent, simply standing there quietly, calmly receiving the complex gazes from all directions, which contained disbelief, absurdity, mockery, shock, and doubt.

He, a mortal emperor at the peak of the Gold rank, made a crazy gamble to the powerful forces in all directions, each with a demigod in charge, challenging four legendary powerhouses to a one-against-four match.

The stakes are the attainment of divinity, and the possibility of permanent renunciation and enormous compensation.

Crazy? Foolish? Overconfident?

Or... is there some trump card hidden that could overturn everything?

This goes beyond mere commendable courage or arrogance.

This is a suicidal act that completely violates the basic common sense of supernatural power. It is an ant charging at four dragons and demanding that all four dragons attack at once!

Indeed, this Emperor Cohen Corleone once had the terrifying feat of killing the legendary powerhouse Thrall.

But that was in the Lost Land, a place with a unique environment and many variables, and the situation of the opponent was not necessarily clear.

Moreover, can Thrall be compared to the legendary figures that these major powers might send today?

The Black Tomb is mysterious and unpredictable, with unfathomable depths. Its core members are all top assassins or eerie beings who walk on the edge of shadow and death.

The Southern Empire, possessing the resources of the endless sea, has cultivated Sea Emperor Guards and Abyss Explorers, among whom all the legendary powerhouses are seasoned veterans who possess powerful ocean secrets and rare resources.

The Eastern Empire, which identifies itself as "descendants of dragons," has legendary dragon knights and dragon vein sorcerers who are often intricately connected to dragons. They are formidable in combat, possessing extremely strong physical and magical power.

The Central Imperial Noble Academy is an ancient and core place for the inheritance of human magic and knighthood. The legends it cultivates, whether they are archmages or holy knights, represent the pinnacle of human achievement in their respective fields.

In order to compete for the divine title, these four forces will inevitably send out the most outstanding, powerful, and indispensable legendary-level beings they can muster!

Even if a peak Gold-tier player is exceptional or has a "lucky" track record of slaying a legendary opponent, the outcome against four opponents joining forces is entirely predictable.

That would be an overwhelming crushing defeat, an instant kill, a one-sided massacre.

Could it be that he has been driven to utter madness by this desperate situation of gods descending and armies pressing in, and has chosen this most insane and "heroic" way to end his life?

The air froze completely.

Only Cohen's terrifyingly calm gaze silently spoke of his resolute determination.

Even Madora, the prophetic god who suggested that Cohen provided the "method," showed a rare and obvious change in his face, which was now shrouded in silver light.

Those eyes, which seemed to see into the future, gazed with a hint of inquiry and bewilderment at the terrifyingly calm black-haired youth on the city wall below.

Even he seemed unable to fully understand, or rather, unable to fully "see through" the entire basis and ultimate outcome of Cohen's proposed plan.

The river of fate seems to become exceptionally chaotic here, with too many variables and mysteries.

Cohen seemed oblivious to the stares he was receiving.

His gaze was fixed firmly on the faces of the four representatives: the tomb, Roosevelt Harper, Gnus Don, and Drummond Quinn.

"This is my solution."

If you have the guts and ambition to try and steal my wife's divine status, then let your strength speak for itself.

Each of you four, send out one person of legendary rank, regardless of life or death, to fight me.

This is the simplest and most direct method.

If you dare not, if you feel this plan is unfair, or if you feel that it is not honorable for four legends to defeat a mere Gold-ranked individual—”

He deliberately drew out the phrase "victory without honor," conveying a strong sense of sarcasm.

"Then, it's very simple."

Cohen raised his head, his gaze sweeping over the three main gods confronting each other in the sky—Erebus, the god of darkness; Aetheril, the goddess of light; and Daphne, the goddess of ice.

"Then please pretend that I never made this suggestion."

Then, Your Majesty, Goddess of Light, Aetheril, and Your Majesty, Goddess of Ice—”

He bowed slightly, performing a simple greeting, but his tone showed no humility whatsoever:
"Let the war of gods begin."

"Use the power of the gods to determine the affiliation of divine status, to determine the fate of Florence, and indeed, the wider region."

When Cohen uttered those words, the goddess of light, Aetherial Dawn, instinctively wanted to object.

Protecting Cohen was one of the most important reasons she came here. How could she just stand by and watch Cohen engage in a suicidal battle where he was almost certain to die?

But seeing Adele holding hands with Cohen, her face full of trust, he felt a strange tremor in his heart.

Turning her head to meet Cohen's gaze, she saw those dark eyes, now as calm as the deepest night sky, yet burning with a flame she knew all too well, a flame etched deep within her soul—

This look in her eyes was strikingly similar to the look in the eyes of that spirited, black-haired young man from the depths of her memory, from countless eras ago, who reached out his hand to her in the soft light of dawn, promising to take her to see the myriad landscapes of the world.

For a moment, Aetherel felt a brief sense of disorientation.

The river of time seemed to flow backward at this moment, and the Cohen Corleone before her overlapped and merged with the figure she cherished most in her memory.

The same black hair, the same eyes, the same... that kind of aura that makes people want to believe and follow.

The words of objection stuck in my throat, unable to be uttered. A trust that transcended the long passage of time rose from the depths of my soul.

Even though reason screamed for danger, even though the situation seemed utterly absurd, when he looked at me with those eyes…

Aetherial Dawn, the supreme god who wields light and dawn, took a deep breath and said in a solemn voice:
“I agree with His Majesty Corleone’s suggestion.”

Her voice wasn't loud, but it clearly reached the ears of every god and every mortal.

"Let this battle he proposed determine who will be the god and the outcome of today's dispute."

The pantheon of Light will bear witness to the fairness of this battle and ensure that the loser fulfills their promise.

"Aetheril! You...!"

Standing beside Aetherel, the Ice Goddess Daphne's icy blue eyes widened instantly, and for the first time, her beautiful face revealed undisguised shock.

She abruptly turned to look at the Goddess of Light beside her, her eyes seeming to say: Are you crazy?

Daphne was practically screaming inside: This stupid woman, blinded by love, is completely unreasonable!
How dare she agree to such a suicidal condition?
Does she even know what she's doing?
This is pushing Cohen, no, this is pushing Adele into a fire pit!

However, before Daphne could voice her inner complaints and objections, another voice, carrying the same firmness and trust, rang out from the city wall below, almost making Daphne lose control of her expression.

As soon as Aetherel finished speaking, Adele followed suit:
"I trust my husband's judgment."

Her gaze, gentle yet firm, fell upon Cohen, then turned to the sky, meeting the many deities, and she repeated:

“I trust Cohen, and I agree with this plan.”

Daphne: "..."

The Ice God felt that his unchanging, icy heart was about to crack from anger at these two women.

Looking at Aetherel's resolute "I've made up my mind" expression, and then at Adele's undisguised trust and support, she felt a surge of powerlessness and absurdity.

These two foolish women, blinded by love, are completely beyond saving!

A supreme god, and..., were actually completely fooled by the arrogant words of a mere gold-rank kid!
Daphne cursed inwardly, her icy blue eyes churning with complex and unfathomable emotions.

But, despite the insults and the anger,

Daphne knew better than anyone that Aetherial's public declaration of support had changed the nature of the situation.

This was no longer just a crazy suggestion from Cohen, but a plan supported by the Goddess of Light, Aetheril.

She and Etheril were completely aligned; they both supported Cohen and Adele.

If she were to publicly oppose Cohen's proposal at this moment, it would be tantamount to undermining Aetheril and demonstrating to all the gods that there were divisions within their ranks.

That would be disastrous for Cohen, for Adele, and for everything they wanted to protect.

Moreover… Daphne’s icy blue eyes cast another deep glance at the black-haired youth standing calmly on the city wall below.

Despite finding it absurd and unbelievable, for some reason, looking into Cohen's almost eerily calm eyes, a tiny ripple stirred deep within her, a feeling she herself was unwilling to acknowledge.

Perhaps... this human emperor really does have some unknown advantage, after all, he was...

Countless thoughts flashed through Daphne's mind, but she finally gritted her teeth and said:

“Okay, I agree with the Goddess of Light.”

She didn't even bother to explain further. Her icy blue eyes swept coldly over the representatives of the four factions—Mu, Roosevelt, Gnus, and Drummond—and she spoke in an even colder and more threatening tone:

"It's settled then. If any of you four disagree with these terms—"

The icy divine power surrounding her suddenly became extremely dangerous, and the temperature in the air plummeted again, as if even space itself was about to freeze.

"I can start playing now."

The public support of the Goddess of Light, Aetheril, and the near-ultimatum threat from the Goddess of Ice, Daphne, instantly elevated Cohen's seemingly absurd proposal to a level that required serious consideration.

The pressure instantly shifted to the representatives of the four factions: the Tomb, Roosevelt, Gnus, and Drummond.

After the initial shock and a sense of absurdity, the four of them now looked extremely solemn in the face of the two main gods' statements of support and threat.

They exchanged glances rapidly.

Is Cohen's proposal absurd?

Utterly absurd! A Gold-ranked individual challenging four of their carefully selected legends? It's like a fantasy.

But what about looking at it from another perspective?
These conditions were incredibly favorable to all four parties involved.

With four legendary-level experts joining forces, they sent four legendary-level powerhouses to gang up on Cohen Corleone, a peak-level gold-level expert. How could they possibly lose?

Even if Cohen truly had a mysterious feat of killing the legendary Thrall, and even if he might be hiding some unknown secrets or trump cards, under the siege of four top legends, any trump card would probably be difficult to turn the tide.

This is an absolute crushing defeat!
If they win, they can rightfully take the divine status under the witness of the gods, and avoid the risk of directly fighting the two main gods of light and ice.

It's an incredibly profitable business, practically free money.

As for losing?

Ha, how could we possibly lose?
They didn't even give the option of "losing" a careful consideration.

The so-called compensation terms are nothing but empty words in a situation where victory is assured.

The only thing that needs to be weighed is whether the two chief gods are sincere, whether there will be other variables, and... the attitude of other gods afterward.

Just as they were struggling internally and weighing the pros and cons, the gods in the sky who were closely related to their respective forces also spoke up.

Oceanus, the god of ocean currents and monsoons representing the maritime faith behind the Southern Empire, slowly transmitted his voice to Drummond Quinn in a tone imbued with the rhythm of the tides:
"Quinn, the conditions of this battle are in your favor."

Accept it, and you will gain divinity at the lowest possible cost.

Avoiding pointless wars between gods is in the interest of the ocean.

Bahamut Golden Radiance, the dragon god of wealth and guardianship closely associated with the Eastern Empire, lowered his head slightly, and his magnificent dragon roar resounded directly within the soul of Genus Tang:

"Tang, this is the will of the Dragon God lineage. Accept the challenge and demonstrate the power of the Dragonborn."

The divinity within that woman is worth acquiring through a glorious and certain victory; do not hesitate.

The advice of these deities was less of a suggestion and more of a command imbued with divine authority.

Under public pressure from the two chief gods, and "persuasion" from the gods behind their own side, Drummond Quinn and Gnus Tang made their decisions almost simultaneously in a very short time.

They raised their heads, facing Madora, the god of prophecy in the sky, and spoke in deep voices:
"The Southern Empire (Eastern Empire) accepts His Majesty Corleone's terms."

For them, this was practically a windfall, and there was no reason to refuse.

As for Roosevelt Harper of the Central Empire, his decision was, in some ways, more logical than those of the Southern and Eastern Regions.

This plan was initially proposed by Madora, the God of Prophecy—a representative of the gods of order and, to some extent, one of the highest manifestations of the Central Empire's beliefs and ideals in the divine realm—who asked Cohen to provide a solution.

Now, Cohen has presented this method, and Madora has not explicitly expressed her opposition.

As a representative of the Central Empire and a staunch defender of order and law, Roosevelt Harper had no reason, nor dared he, to openly oppose the plan proposed by the god of prophecy.

Moreover, in Roosevelt Harper's own view, this plan was equally beneficial to the Central Empire.

Four legendary players against a single Gold-ranked opponent?

This was practically a free victory. He also didn't think Cohen had any chance of winning.

So Roosevelt Harper stepped forward, turned slightly towards Madora, the god of prophecy, as a sign of respect, and then said aloud:

"The Central Imperial Noble Council respects His Majesty the Prophet's judgment and accepts His Majesty Corleone's challenge terms."

May this battle fairly determine the right to godhood and bring an end to the conflict.

Finally, all eyes and all the pressure focused on that ever-silent figure—the leader of the Black Tomb, Tomb.

The Southern Empire, the Eastern Empire, and the Central Empire's Noble Council have all expressed their acceptance of that insane proposal. At this moment, the pressure is almost entirely on his side.

After a brief silence, the tomb slowly spoke:
"Black Tomb, agreed."

With the will of the two chief gods in place, and with the other three parties having already expressed their opinions, within the framework of Cohen's seemingly absurd yet already established "plan," the tomb, or rather the Black Tomb, did not have much room for choice.

However, the tomb's words did not end there:
"but--"

This transitional word caused the atmosphere, which had just relaxed slightly due to the unanimous agreement of all four parties, to freeze again.

"I need to know in advance what exactly the compensation you just mentioned, Your Majesty Corleone, is."

This needs to be clear before the battle begins.

Unlike the other three parties, who, after weighing the pros and cons, more or less carried the mentality of "we're bound to win anyway, so we can set any conditions we want."

The tomb, and the black tomb behind it, is an assassin walking in the shadows, a hunter walking on the edge of the rules, and an existence with an almost beast-like intuition for danger, who has survived countless desperate situations and conspiracies.

Although everyone (including Mu himself) rationally judged that the bet proposed by Cohen had no chance of winning, Mu remained vigilant in the slightest.
Black Tomb has fought Cohen Corleone far more times than anyone else present.

He had witnessed firsthand how this seemingly only Gold-ranking young emperor repeatedly thwarted Black Tomb's plans and killed its powerful members in unbelievable, even bizarre, ways, turning seemingly impossible situations around.

Once is a coincidence, twice is luck, but three times, four times... then it can no longer be simply explained by "luck" or "the opponent underestimating the enemy".

Although reason told him that the bet was utterly absurd and that Cohen was doomed to lose, a cold, inner voice reminded him:

Don’t overlook any possibility, especially when your opponent is Cohen Corleone!
Therefore, he had to find out.

He needed to know, if, just if, that one in a billion absurd possibility actually happened and Cohen won, then what specific price would Black Tomb have to pay?

This is caution, experience, and even more so, a kind of "importance" and even "fear" of Cohen, an opponent he himself is unwilling to fully admit. (End of Chapter)