At the edge of the Bashe Mountain Range.
A female subordinate goddess with a miniature siege hammer tied to her waist kicked off her shoes and stepped barefoot into a blood-red stream that looked wrong at first glance.
The spring water rose past her ankles and immediately emitted a harsh hiss of corrosion.
Yet she narrowed her eyes in pleasure, humming an off-key triumphal march.
“Ow, ow, ow…
hahaha, this feels amazing!
It’s just like the first time I secretly drank Dionysus’ divine wine!” Behind her, more than a dozen subordinate gods explored whatever caught their interest in small groups of twos and threes, each with a different expression— One god who loved forging pressed his ear to the mountain wall, lightly tapping the rock layers as though tasting fine wine.
Crimson patterns reflected in his pupils.
“The entire mountain range is alive.
I can sense the serpent bones breathing, the scales growing.
If I tore the whole range apart and threw it into my furnace, I could definitely forge a divine weapon that would shake heaven and earth.” A goddess fond of the arts spun on tiptoe, her skirt flaring as if attending an open-air salon.
“I’ve decided—I’ll carve the contours of this ridge into a relief sculpture and display it in my gallery for all humans and gods to admire.” And then there were those with itchy hands.
One fellow used a fire-starting device to ignite a strange plant nourished by the serpent’s tongue.
Yet instead of being scorched, the vines swelled wildly.
Leaves burst open, spraying sweet-scented purple pollen, causing a nearby goddess to giggle.
“Oh?
It fights back?
Interesting!” “Hey!
Come look at this!” A subordinate god suddenly leapt out from the other side of the valley, holding up a crystal formed from a Bashe scale.
His face was flushed with excitement.
“There’s a little snake shadow inside this stone!
It moves!” The gods gathered around.
Within the crystal, a transparent snake shadow no longer than an inch lay coiled.
As it inhaled and exhaled spiritual energy, its scales gradually took on a faint crimson hue.
One god reached out to pinch it, only to recoil when the tiny serpent suddenly spat a thread of lightning.
Patting her chest, she complained, “Feisty little thing!” “Move, move, let me see.” Ares hurried over from the foot of the mountain.
When he saw the transparent snake shadow within the crystal, he jumped in surprise.
“Whoa!
That’s not the remnant soul of that snake, is it?” “Unlikely.
I’d say this little one has a newborn soul at most—just a descendant evolved from flesh and blood, inheriting a small portion of its talent.” “Oh?
Really?” Ares’ face lit up with delight.
Like someone snatching treasure, he stuffed the crystal into his chest.
The next second, his collar was yanked— “Shameless!
I saw it first!” “If I grabbed it, it’s mine!” “Want to fight?” “Bring it on!” Just as the gods were having the time of their lives, a petite fox-eared girl descended from the heavens.
“Greetings, everyone.
Are you satisfied with the amusement park I’ve newly created?” Tian’el’s voice was as calm as a stream, yet it rang clearly in every ear present.
His gaze swept across the subordinate gods under Ares’ command, piercing through their mortal appearances and looking directly at the ancient souls connected to the origin of Heaven.
Phobos, goddess of terror.
Eris, goddess of discord…
In Greek myth, they were deities closely associated with Ares.
In this world, however, their familias had been conquered by Rakia, leaving them reduced to subordinate gods under Ares’ banner, making a living off him.
Literally making a living—once gods descended to the lower world, their bodies were no different from mortals.
If they did not eat, they would go hungry.
Thus, it was hardly rare for impoverished gods without familias to work under wealthy patrons as subordinate gods.
Like the goddess Hestia in the original story—after descending to the lower world, she initially lodged at her friend Hephaestus’ home.
Later, because she lazed about, neither seeking a familia nor working, she was kicked out and forced to reside in an abandoned church.
The division of divine authorities in this world is truly meticulous.
I wonder just how many gods the Heaven of this world has birthed…
In Greek myth, Deimos and Phobos—who had been sent back to Heaven two years ago—were attendants who followed Ares into battle, representing the embodiment of terror and the fear born of war.
But in the Danmachi worldview, they were gods of equal standing to Ares.
That’s right—both of them!
According to this world’s peculiar tastes, these two who were originally sons of the war god had descended to the lower world in the form of goddesses.
Incidentally, in Greek myth, Hephaestus—the greatest cuckold in legend, husband of Aphrodite and brother of Ares—had likewise been portrayed in this world as a goddess…
No need to worry about cuckoldry piling up like mountains anymore.
Truly gratifying.
“I’m super satisfied!” While Tian’el was still thinking, Eris, goddess of discord, raised her hand first, like a primary school student eager to answer a teacher’s question.
Her eyes shone brightly.
“I heard from that idiot Ares that you want to take us to another world to work?
Sure!
We can leave right now!” “Same here!” Phobos pulled her feet—now stripped to the bone—from the stream, then scooped up a handful of water and gulped it down.
“Glug~ Feels like my throat’s about to rot.
That big snake was quite something when it was alive.
If only I could’ve fought it.” The gods looked at one another, then burst into laughter.
How could they not know how terrifying Tian’el was?
A colossal beast capable of devouring gods had been effortlessly erased, its very body transformed into a mountain range for others to explore and seek opportunity within.
Just thinking about it sent chills down one’s spine.
Before this Celestial Emperor from another domain, the gods themselves were likely as fragile as infants.
If they truly went to the Vast Expanse, life and death would no longer be in their control—a blade would constantly hang above their heads.
Ares’ earlier divine death phenomenon was proof enough—once separated from their native world, the origin of Heaven could no longer shield them.
Should they fall, there might not be another chance at resurrection.
But so what?
Since when had the gods of this world cared about the word “danger”?
Hundreds of millions of years of existence had long diluted “death” into a distant, almost abstract concept.
And now someone had extended an invitation—”Want to have some fun in another world?
You might die.” Wasn’t that a double temptation?
“Hahaha!
Lord Celestial Emperor, don’t worry,” Ares thumped his chest, his golden hair shaking wildly.
“Orario might produce plenty of cowards, but the gods of Rakia have never lacked courage!” Looking at the self-satisfied war god before him, Tian’el merely smiled without speaking.
Birds of a feather flock together.
Those willing to remain in warlike Rakia as subordinate gods under Ares were almost all deities related to war and destruction.
Faced with a thrilling game that carried the risk of divine fall, not only did they show no fear—they were excited to their very pores.
And for him, this was undeniably good— As representatives of the world, the gods were not particularly powerful in terms of pure combat.
But if they pooled their authorities and jointly invoked the power of Heaven’s origin, that would be extremely unfavorable for him, an outsider.
Therefore, it was best to internalize the conflict— Recruit one group, strike another.
Rewrite the collision between two worlds into an internal camp war among the gods of this world.
As long as the invisible and nameless world origin did not personally descend, he could rely on raw strength to sweep aside all enemies of this realm.
With that thought, Tian’el gave a slight nod and invited his preselected subordinates to walk deeper into the mountain range.
“Have you sensed the difference between spiritual energy and magic?” “The soldiers of Rakia are far too weak.
I intend to switch them to a different cultivation system.”