A dull longsword and a heartbroken villager

"Mortal, I will let you know that you are just a mortal, a lowly being."

Even with my mother's favor, you are still nothing.

The next moment, the entrance to the Underworld collapsed inward, constantly shattering and shrinking. When the entrance to the Underworld became an invisible point, an invisible wave suddenly spread out.

The stone wall surrounding the entrance to the Underworld was torn to shreds like paper.

Like those stone walls are the Brai and the Deathbringers outside them.

The powerful impact forced Bray to retreat in a disheveled manner, no matter what he did.

When Bray coughed a few times and finally saw the scene before him, the entrance to the Underworld that he had been searching for so long had vanished from the spot.

Moreover, countless spirits of the dead poured out from the entrance to the underworld.

These undead were like mad dogs that had broken free of their reins, rushing towards him.

Bray raised his two swords and quickly parried the bites of the undead.

It wasn't just these undead that were suppressing Bray; the Deathbringers, who had been blown away earlier, struggled to their feet and immediately headed towards Bray.

This time, I was being ganged up on in every sense of the word.

"Come here." After sweeping away the layer of undead that was binding him, Bray addressed all those who harbored murderous intent towards him.

This single word seemed to become a command, and all the enemies rushed towards him at the same moment.

For a fleeting moment, Bray had the illusion that he was about to be swallowed up by the tide of the undead.

---

Bray's wet hair hung down, obscuring the black eye patch.

Physical strength can be restored, but that doesn't mean Bray's physical strength was never used up.

The sweat on his body was proof of his exhaustion.

If it weren't for the increased stamina from the waist pack, he probably would have been lying on the ground, unable to move.

He used his sword to support himself, and there were no more dead souls around him.

Bray looked up at the enormous god that occupied almost his entire field of vision.

No, it's just an incarnation of a god.

Earlier, accompanied by the low murmurs of the undead, this strange being descended upon Bray.

A wide, old black robe that seemed to encompass heaven and earth, a jet-black skeletal mask, and a massive scythe entwined with undead.

All of this constituted the divine incarnation before Bray.

He is not quite the same as the image that the Deathbringer initially saw.

The form of the gods is never fixed; their true form is always hidden outside of the Caprae and is never revealed to people.

But when their true nature is revealed to the world, it means that the walls of the world have collapsed and the rules of the mortal world have been thrown into chaos.

From the gaps in the mask and hood, countless wisps of gray mist emanated, as if telling Bray of his wrath.

Beneath the black robes were countless undead masks of varying sizes.

The uniform expression on these masks is anger.

He was "Dizokar, Lord of the Underworld," who, disregarding everything, descended upon Bray in his guise.

Bray disrupted the order of the underworld; he was the first human to travel against the flow of the underworld, and the first being to do so.

For Dizoca, this was not something He should praise.

Because of Bray's reckless act, the possibility of His coming has been greatly reduced.

"Are you ready to be punished?" The voices from under each mask overlapped.

"..." Bray's expression also became extremely solemn, and he instantly adjusted himself to the best combat state.

This is a golden seed; even its incarnation is a golden seed.

“I will give you two choices: either assist me in restoring order to the underworld, or become a member of my Yellow Springs,” Dizoka said in an ancient language, which Bray had never learned but could understand.

Is there a third option?

“You will regret this statement that mocks the gods,” Dizoka said coldly.

The golden race originally did not have the concept of "gods," but after the lower races were born, they became so-called gods, and they also realized that they were omnipotent gods in front of the lower races.

This sense of superiority, which places one above all things, has lasted for several eras and will undoubtedly continue indefinitely.

As long as the lower species remain so weak and the higher species remain so unreasonably strong, this relationship will not change.

Even Bray couldn't deny this relationship.

“I…” Just as the scythe was raised high, the voice of the avatar of Dizoka came to an abrupt halt.

His body flickered incessantly, as if the signal was being blocked, making it impossible to maintain the existence of this incarnation.

"A mere demigod dares to try and stop the gods!!!!" Each of Dizoka's masks left his body, revealing a different, ferocious appearance.

He quickly recovered from his unstable state.

Even though He looked no different than before, Bray could clearly sense that the other party had become much weaker.

“Umkandar, the Lord of the Demigods…” Bray uttered the name.

He remembered the guy who had defeated him, a memory he hadn't had in a long time.

Umm Kandar once said that He would maintain the prosperity of the demigods, and as long as He was there, the gods would not be able to descend.

It seems that guy really meant what he said.

Umkandal used his concept to interfere with the possibility of the Golden Seeds' arrival.

It may not be able to prevent the Golden Seed from interfering with Kapras, but it can definitely prevent the other party from descending, and even the birth of an incarnation will become extremely difficult.

Although Umkandar's idea wasn't for the benefit of the lower species, it has to be said that this guy has really been a great help now.

For example, right now, His causal influence has severely weakened the power of the avatar in front of Bray.

"Boom!!!" In a fit of rage, Dizoka swung his scythe fiercely at Bray.

Wherever the sickle passed, death engulfed everything.

His concept is "death," and all beings are equal before death.

Even Bray couldn't avoid it; even with his concepts suppressed, he could still sense that the other party's abilities were severely influencing the rules of the world.

"I don't really want to say thank you, but you really lent me a hand this time," Bray said, stepping onto the scythe.

Due to the double weakening, after being affected by the concept, Bray was only having his life force continuously drained, rather than being instantly killed.

The fact that he wasn't instantly killed is probably the best news Bray has had in this battle.

"How does it feel to feel weaker?" Bray asked the other person expressionlessly as he ran along the scythe.

"You..." His true form was clearly so powerful, but because his incarnation was weakened, he was forced to be mocked by mortals.

One undead after another dragged on the running Bray, slowing him down.

But as the dragon pattern erupted, the undead that had been holding him were torn apart instead.

One man with two swords, transformed into a streak of light, following the massive scythe that pointed directly at the skeletal mask in the center of Dizoka.

“It’s not a pleasant experience, is it?” Bradyzoka answered the question.

"Clang!" The sword blade collided with the mask, producing a crisp sound.

The crisp sound echoed throughout the underworld.

However, despite the sound, Bray's sword failed to pierce Dizoka's skeletal mask, and not even a spark flew.

The end result was that the blade, along with the person wielding it, was thrown away.

"..." In silence, Bray and DiZoka's eyes met.

"Hmph, hahahahahahaha!!!!" Dizoka suddenly burst into laughter.

Bray only unleashed one sword strike, but Dizoca roughly understood the extent of this mortal's strength.

“What are you laughing at?” Bray asked.

Bray's words would undoubtedly have enraged Dizoka, but instead of getting angry, He laughed.

"What are you laughing at? Hahaha, it's really funny to laugh at something like this," Dizoka said.

He had been confined to his little world outside of Capras for a very long time, and to be honest, he hadn't had any entertainment for a long time.

For some gold-producing individuals, entertainment is indeed meaningless, but not all gold-producing individuals can transcend "entertainment".

Dizoka is someone who feels miserable.

"Be proud, mortals."

“You bring me a little pleasure.” Dizoka swung his scythe into the void, the blade cleaving through the underworld and summoning endless meteors from above.

These ominous shooting stars—not burning with flames, but imprisoning countless dead souls.

"BOOM!!!!!!!!!" Amidst the wails of the dead, the dark earth was swallowed by the meteor.

“I don’t think there’s anything to be proud of,” Bray’s voice rang out beside Him.

Bray, whose coat had already been torn to shreds, stepped on one of Dizoka's masks.

Bray did not dodge the attack from the previous Dizoka avatar, but even so, he still managed to seize the opening in the attack despite his injuries.

Blood flowed past his right eye as the sword slashed out through his blurred vision.

"Onis Sword Technique" "Beast Transformation Slash"

Amidst the roars of wild beasts, the black blade struck heavily onto one of Dizoka's masks.

This is a broadsword, which an ordinary person could easily lift with a little effort.

However, when this sword is used to slash, it no longer feels like a broadsword.

It was a darkness capable of splitting the earth, a darkness powerful enough to obscure everyone's vision.

With a sharp "crack," one of Dizoka's masks shattered cleanly.

Countless vengeful spirits surged forth from beneath the mask, crashing against Bray and knocking him off Dizoka.

"..." Bray struggled to get up from the ground and stared intently at the other person.

The cries of countless wronged souls echoed in his ears, and before him, ghosts surged forth like a flood from the shattered mask of Dizoka.

“As a mortal, you did very well, really very well.” Dizoka’s reaction seemed completely unconcerned that part of his avatar had been destroyed.

He spoke to Bray in an appreciative tone, suppressing his anger.

Yes, He had no reason to be angry, because this mortal's power was limited to this.

So what if the other party destroys this clone? It will only make Him feel a little heartache.

He glanced indifferently at Bray, who had just stood up and was charging towards him.

How should I put it? At this moment, He felt a little sorry for the mortals in front of Him.

It's so weak, yet it still swings its sword at itself. Isn't that pathetic enough?

“Serve me, this is my mercy toward you.” Dizoka raised his left hand, which was not holding the scythe.

The enormous left hand obscured the moon's radiance from the sky, making the earth even darker.

"No need," Bray replied in the same indifferent tone, carrying two swords.

If Dizoka's calm tone stemmed from a deep understanding of the vast difference between the two, then what was Bray's motivation?

“Ha. Then accept the punishment of being a rebel.” Dizoka clenched his left hand tightly.

This grasp grasped the entire underworld, and every inch of land surrounding Bray.

"Thump—" A cage made of bones locked up Bray.

Bray was trapped without any time to react.

The cage contained endless darkness and all the obsessions of the dead.

Anyone inside would go crazy in just one second.

But this makes no sense to Bray, so the cage is not meant to confine Bray or to psychologically break him.