I Created a Sanctuary in Marvel

Chapter 232 The Black Death Sword! The Cosmic Elders and the Divine Kingdom

At the edge of the universe, in the nameless rift, Gell opened his eyes in absolute darkness.

Those eyes were completely swallowed by deep black, with not a trace of white showing.

The Black Death Sword's erosion was happening faster than expected.

He sat cross-legged on a floating piece of star debris, his hands resting flat on his knees, while the sword, which seemed to pulsate with life, lay across him.

"That force just now—"

He muttered to himself, his voice hoarse like sandpaper scraping.

Just minutes ago, an energy surge that nearly tore the universe apart swept across the land.

Even in such a remote corner, Gel could clearly sense that it was the direction of Asgard.

The divine realm is burning and trembling; something has fallen there, and it is some extremely ancient and powerful being.

"Celestial Father level, or even stronger."

"Someone made their move before I did."

Gel licked his chapped lips, which still bore traces of the black slime that had seeped out when the Black Death Sword parasitized him.

His heart was pounding with excitement.

But the next second, reason prevailed over impulse.

Ger looked down at his trembling hands.

Black veins stretched from his wrist to his elbow, and something was wriggling under his skin.

The Black Death Sword granted him power, but it has not yet fully embraced him.

Or rather, he hasn't fully embraced the Black Death Sword yet.

"Not enough."

"If I were to rush into a battlefield of that level now, I would only be crushed by the aftershocks."

He clenched his fist, his nails digging deep into his palm, from which black blood seeped out.

He looked at the sword in front of him again.

This legendary god-slaying weapon is now pulsating with greed.

It thirsts for the blood of the gods, just as the desert thirsts for rain.

Ger reached out and grasped the sword hilt; the icy touch instantly sent a rush of cold sensation up his arm and spine, followed by a flood of fragmented memories—

The god of darkness wielded it, severing heads as large as stars;

An unnamed host wielded it to infiltrate the realm of the gods and nail the sleeping deity to his throne.

In some corner of the universe, three sun gods simultaneously perished, their screams echoing silently in the vacuum.

"You'll help me, right?"

Ger asked softly, more like he was asking himself.

The sword trembled slightly in response.

Since the day faith collapsed.

Ever since his people prayed to the gods for rain but received only a cold starry sky, ever since his wife and children died painfully in the drought while the gods he worshipped held eternal feasts in the high heavens.

Gert realized one thing: gods are not worthy of being worshipped; they are only worthy of being killed.

When Black Death Sword found him, he was cutting his wrists with stones in front of his people's graves.

The blood dripped onto the parched earth and evaporated instantly.

Then it came, emerging from the void, like a venomous snake finding its host, coiling around his arm and piercing his flesh.

Pain? Of course it's painful.

But compared to the pain of losing everything, this is nothing.

"Start with the weakest."

"Those minor gods hiding in remote star systems, enjoying offerings but never responding. Slay them one by one, and nourish you with their divine blood, and nourish me as well."

Ger stood up, and black substance spread from the sword, enveloping his body and forming a simple yet ominous suit of armor.

His eyes turned completely cold.

"When we are able to slay a Heavenly Father-level being—"

"I will go to the kingdom of the gods myself and drag Zeus off his throne."

Gel gazed into the depths of the starry sky, towards the realm of the gods. Darkness completely swallowed his figure, leaving only a whisper in the vacuum: "Wait, gods. The Butcher is coming."

On Sakaar, the Grandmaster's arena was so noisy it almost lifted the dome off.

Thousands of spectators roared wildly from their seats, gamblers waved tickets, and the smell of alcohol and sweat mingled into a uniquely Sakaarian frenzy.

In the circular arena below, two enormous creatures are fighting.

One is a lava troll from Muspelheim, and the other is a bio-war machine that the Grandmaster bought from the Kree Empire at a high price.

But in the observation deck on the top floor, there was an eerie silence.

"Surtur is dead."

Collector Tanlia Tivan twirled the wine glass in his hand with his slender fingers, the liquid inside shimmering with a nebula-like color.

He didn't look at the battle below, but stared at the floating light screen in front of him, which displayed the residual waveform of the energy readings transmitted from the Nine Realms.

"Moreover, it was a complete demise; the Eternal Flame was stripped away, and the core was shattered."

"Since the ancient war, no single universe-level being has ever died so completely."

He added.

The human avatar of the living planet Ego, embodied as a middle-aged man with silver hair and gray eyes, leaned back in a soft sofa and chuckled softly: "What, are you scared? Worried about losing your collection?"

"I'm just stating the facts."

"Surtur's power and immortality surpass most of ours. If he can be killed, then we are not safe either."

The collector gave him a cold glance.

"That's because he's stupid."

"Holding the Eternal Flame, the first thing he did after his resurrection was to rush straight into Asgard and fight head-on. If he had been smarter, he would have absorbed a few flame dimensions to accumulate power first, and the outcome might have been completely different."

Grandmaster En Duve Gast finally spoke.

He wore a magnificent purple robe and held a scepter in his hand inlaid with countless gems, with a miniature star model floating at the top of the scepter.

"But he still died."

Another voice broke in.

The speaker was another member of the Cosmic Elders, the gardener Ares.

He rarely left his garden, and this time he was disturbed by unusual energy fluctuations, which prompted him to project his image here: "It was not Odin who killed him."

"Although Odin's divine power had reached its peak, he was too old to do these things."

"The one who killed Surtur and shattered his immortality of eternal fire was a — a new god."

The images on the screen switched, displaying some blurry fragments: a human-shaped figure holding a long spear, with wings of light behind him that almost obscured the cosmos.

The Celestial Venerable narrowed his eyes.

A brief silence fell over the room.

A deafening cheer erupted from the arena below.

The lava troll was torn in two, and the bio-war machine stood in a pool of blood, howling to the sky. But no one in the observation deck glanced down.

"And the Infinity Stones."

"Based on the analysis of residual energy, at least five Infinity Stones were activated in Asgard at that time."

"Space, reality, soul, power, time—except for the one on Vormir, all the others are here."

The gardener reminded him.

Thanos has been collecting the Infinity Stones.

"But he probably wouldn't dare activate all five at the same time. The backlash would be enough to wipe his fleet, along with himself, from the brink of existence."

The collector said.

"So it's that new god?"

"An unknown being capable of wielding multiple Infinity Stones and killing Surtur? This sounds like a monster from some ancient cosmic legend has been resurrected."

Igor raised an eyebrow; these were all his guesses.

The Grandmaster stood up and walked to the floor-to-ceiling window at the edge of the observation deck.

Below is a bustling arena, and above is the eerie sky of Sakaar, forever shrouded in wormholes and nebulae.

In the far reaches of space, stars twinkle and fade, as if countless eyes are watching the changes in this universe.

"The balance of the universe is tilting."

"The gods have already cast their gaze, and Zeus of the divine realm is probably getting restless now. An uncontrollable variable has appeared on the chessboard, and all the players will be on edge."

He had his back to the others, and his voice was low.

"What do we need to do?"

"The gardener asked."

"Do nothing."

"Observe, wait, and protect yourself. This play has only just begun; those actors who rush onto the stage are often the ones who die the fastest."

The Celestial Master turned around, revealing his signature smile.

He paused, then tapped his scepter lightly on the ground: "But send word to our spies everywhere to keep a close watch on the movements of the Nine Realms, especially that new god."

"I need to know everything about him—where he came from, what he wants, and—what he's going to do next."

7

In Olympus, in the pantheon of the gods, Zeus sat on his thunderous throne, his fingers rhythmically tapping the armrests.

The throne is located at the highest point of the Pantheon, below which are layers of secondary thrones, most of which are currently empty.

The gods each have their own domains and affairs, and rarely gather together except for major ceremonies.

But today, Zeus is joined by several important gods: Hercules, Ares, and Hermes.

They all stared at the enormous light screen floating in the center of the hall, which displayed footage of the final battle transmitted from Asgard.

The image freezes on the moment when the winged figure plunges the spear into the core of Surtur.

"Is it confirmed?"

Zeus spoke, his voice like distant thunder.

"It's confirmed, Father."

"The pantheon has no reaction. He is not a god of our universe, nor did he attain godhood here. He is an outsider."

Hercules stepped forward, clad in silver armor.

The pantheon is a cosmic artifact created by the Celestials, recording all beings born in this universe or who attained divine status here.

Anyone who becomes a god in this universe will be automatically registered, no matter where they hide.

There is no record of this, so there are only two possibilities:

First, the other party is not a god at all.

But what else could kill Surtur but a god?

Second, the other party comes from outside the universe.

"Multiverse Traveler"

"And it's not the ordinary kind."

"Most inter-universe travelers have their information captured by the pantheon the moment they enter a new universe."

"Unless—he possesses the means to shield himself from the pantheon, or his form of existence is itself outside the definition of the pantheon."

Ares spoke slowly.

He thought of beings capable of transcending the pantheon, creators of individual universes—

But I quickly dismissed the idea.

"Loki visited the Kingdom of God a few weeks ago."

"He inquired about the registration of new gods in the theological register. At the time, we all thought he was being ridiculous, but now it seems—"

"Hercules suddenly said."

"Interesting. It seems Loki has already been in contact with the new gods."

"Strength assessment?"

"At the peak of the Heavenly Father level, he may even have touched the threshold of a single universe."

Zeus descended the steps of the throne and came before the screen of light, carefully examining the figure.

"That old fox Odin wouldn't accept help from a strange god for no reason. There must be a deal between them, or some shared interest."

Hermes.

Zeus turned around.

"Yes, Father."

"Go to the Nine Realms and, in my name, invite Odin and this new god to visit the divine realm."

"Let's say—Olympus is going to hold a banquet for the gods to welcome the new members."

"The wording should be polite, but they should also understand that this is an invitation from the God-King, not a request."

A glint flashed in Zeus's eyes.

Hermes abandoned his nonchalant expression and bowed slightly. "Understood. What if they refuse?"

"That would be even more interesting."

"A god who refuses an invitation from the Kingdom of God is either ignorant or so confident that he thinks he can disregard us."

"Regardless of the type, we need to reassess his threat level."

Zeus laughed, but there was no warmth in his smile.

Hercules frowned. "Father, isn't direct contact too risky? We know too little about him."

That's why we need to make contact.

"The most terrifying enemy is the one lurking in the shadows. Only by bringing him into the light, under the watchful eyes of the gods, can we see what he truly intends to do. And—"

Zeus returned to his throne.

He paused, looking at the starry mural on the dome of the main hall: "The Celestials have already noticed him. If we don't establish contact first, things will become—very troublesome—once those universe administrators personally get involved."

Hermes nodded, waved his serpent staff, and his figure vanished into the hall as a streak of light.

Ares gripped his spear tightly: "Father, if he is an enemy—"

"Then let's start the war."

"But before that, we need to determine whether he is an enemy."

"Remember, Ares, war is a means, not an end. A true god-king knows how to choose the right weapon at the right time."

Zeus said calmly.

He sat back on his throne, his gaze profound: "A storm is brewing in this universe. Before the storm arrives, we must figure out whether to lower our sails and seek shelter, or to set sail."

In deep space, Hermes, navigating a journey, transformed into a golden streak of light, speeding through the hyperspace tunnel.

His speed was extremely fast, even exceeding the warp speed of most interstellar warships.

The Twin Serpent Staff in his hands emitted a stable spatial anchoring fluctuation, ensuring that he would not get lost during dimensional jumps.

But at this moment, Hermes' mind was not entirely on the journey.

"New God----"

"Not on the pantheon, yet capable of killing Surtur and manipulating multiple Infinity Stones. This kind of being is either the reincarnation of some ancient being, or—"

He muttered to himself.

His figure left a long golden trail in the hyperspace path as he sped toward the galaxy that was becoming the focus of the universe.

Behind the waterway, in the deeper darkness, a pair of completely black eyes were watching the direction where Hermes had disappeared.

Gel loosened his hand from the Black Death Sword, a stiff smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"The messenger of Olympus—"

"That's wonderful. Gods are always like this; when faced with a threat, they think of forming alliances and maintaining their ridiculous order."

He whispered that sound cannot travel in a vacuum, but the Black Death Sword could understand it.

The star-shaped debris beneath his feet was slowly disintegrating, being eroded into powder by the dark force field emanating from the Black Death Sword.

"Go, go. When you're all gathered together—"

"That saves me the trouble of searching for them one by one."

,

Gel gripped the sword hilt tightly, his dark veins bulging on his arm.

Darkness completely engulfed him.