“God of travelers, and the gods of the Kingdom of Rakia—it has truly been a long time.” “Indeed.
To return from death and see familiar figures once more—even if they are a few unreliable gods—is still rather moving.” “If possible, I would have preferred the first acquaintance I met upon setting foot in my homeland again to be someone more worthy of respect.” “Is this a military camp?
So many powerful presences.
Since when did Rakia’s military strength rise to such a level?” “It must be because of the descent of the Exalted Celestial Venerable…” One, two, ten…
in the end, a full thirty thousand revived individuals who had returned from death stepped out of the spacetime gate.
Most of them were legendary adventurers who had passed away within the last century, still leaving attachments behind in the lower world.
As for the others, they had been engaged in construction work within Vast Expanse Heaven.
After all, too much time had passed.
Even granted a second life, aside from meeting familiar gods again, they did not know what else they could do upon returning.
Rather than be stirred by old memories, it was better to remain in Heaven and, together with friends and rivals of their era, ancient heroes once heard of only in stories, and juniors they had never known, welcome a brand-new life.
A few minutes later, the radiance of the spacetime gate gradually receded, as though it had never opened at all.
Yet the shock it left behind was like a massive stone hurled into a tranquil lake, stirring towering waves in the depths of every god’s soul.
Hermes lowered the brim of his hat and commented with a smile at the corner of his lips.
“A reunion like a miracle.
Even the gods could only dream of such a feat.” On the drill field, the silence of death was shattered.
It was a silence congealed by immense terror and disbelief, only to be ripped apart by suppressed exclamations and sharp intakes of breath.
Rakia was a militaristic nation that had invaded Orario many times in the past—each time forced to retreat in crushing defeat.
To put it plainly, for the older combatants within the Ares Familia, these legendary figures who had returned from death were essentially the psychological shadows of their youth.
At the very front of the army, the god of war unconsciously tightened his grip on the sword hilt, his knuckles cracking like raw iron grinding together.
But as if recalling something, the man clad in crimson armor suddenly revealed a look of wild ecstasy and burst into manic laughter.
“Hahaha!
Brave warriors returning from the Underworld, taking up their swords and stepping onto the battlefield once more—how exhilarating!
Hahaha…” The key point was that at this very moment, these legendary adventurers did not stand in opposition to the Kingdom of Rakia.
They were comrades under the same Lord—was there a more dreamlike beginning than this?
“Looks like quite a few people won’t be able to sit still,” the mischievous goddess Eris muttered.
She could clearly sense that more than thirty thousand powerful auras had appeared out of thin air upon this land.
They were not the souls of the dead, but true lives filled with vitality and future potential.
Each was comparable to the enhanced elite soldiers on the drill field—if not superior.
“The final revelry before a new era begins?
I like it!” —Tap.
The crisp sound of a heel cut into the deathly stillness.
The Empress of the Hera Familia, the only Level 9 in Orario’s history, stepped out from among the revived.
Her gaze swept across Hermes and the others before quickly passing over them.
Even before she spoke, her presence alone was enough to look down upon the indolent gods.
“Exalted Celestial Venerable, you have brought us to this warlike nation.
What command do you intend to issue?” Due to the differing flow of time, many of the legendary adventurers present had already remained within Vast Expanse Heaven for nearly a month after being revived.
During that period of adaptation, they had come to understand that the Lord before them was utterly different from the aimless gods of Orario who drifted through existence without purpose.
He was a supreme being with a clear path.
Obstacles standing before him would be moved—or eradicated—without hesitation.
Then he would stride forward without wavering.
Such a person was unlikely to do anything meaningless on a formal occasion.
“Let us first test the combat strength of this legion.” Tian’el’s gaze casually swept across the hundred thousand troops upon the drill field.
Though they had repeatedly fallen into defeat against top-tier adventurers in the past, their combat experience and technique were by no means weak.
They exuded the weight and sharpness tempered through countless baptisms of blood and fire.
It was only because, within this world’s system, the disparity in levels was nearly impossible to bridge with sheer numbers that they had seemed insignificant under the blessing framework.
“Understood!” Without another word, the Empress directly led her Hera Familia companions onto the battlefield.
Then came the members of the Zeus Familia, led by Maxim and others who had once been allies of the Hera Familia.
After that, revived individuals stepped forward one after another in teams formed by their respective familias, organizing suitable formations for battle.
In the end, the only ones remaining beside Tian’el were the members of the Astraea Familia—symbolizing justice and order—and a woman with a cool temperament and distant indifference in her eyes.
She had long silver-gray hair, heterochromatic eyes of emerald and gray, and wore an exquisitely tailored evening gown layered with meticulous detail, giving the impression she was perpetually prepared to attend a forest banquet.
Alfia of the Hera Familia.
Bearing the title “Silence,” she was hailed by the gods as a hero incarnate of talent.
Gulp.
No one knew who had swallowed audibly, but it was obvious that in the face of this monster—recognized as the most talented individual in the history of the lower world—not only the Astraea Familia members but even Rakia’s gods and Hermes felt immense pressure.
Primarily because two years ago, she had taken on the role of a villain and, together with Erebus, Maxim, and others, orchestrated the Great Feud.
During that incident, numerous familias were heavily wounded or annihilated.
Many gods were directly sent back to Heaven.
Incidentally, the Astraea Familia had been one of the main forces opposing Evilus during the Great Feud, and were the very heroes Alfia had deliberately held back against—hoping to use herself as nourishment to forge them.
As for the result…
the Astraea Familia did indeed all level up after Alfia’s death.
Then, less than two years later, they were nearly wiped out in a trap set by Evilus.
Only a single survivor remained of the entire familia.
The others quickly followed Alfia.
Thus, as members of the same batch of revived individuals, the scene when these two groups met again could be described as quite spectacular.
A subtle, amused smile curved across Tian’el’s lips.
“It has been some time since you returned to the world of the living.
Have you still not resolved matters between you?” Alfia: “…” The woman in the evening gown fell silent, raising a hand to casually gather her silver hair that trailed to her waist.
“Justice and evil.
Our relationship was never a good one to begin with.” Of course, more importantly, a certain god’s plan had been completely unreliable.
Claiming that by taking on the role of a villain and losing to Orario’s adventurers, one could become a stepping stone for the new era…
and in the end, wasn’t it utterly meaningless?
As expected, once a person dies, everything turns to nothing.
One should not imagine they can still influence the world of the living.
To trust in the abilities of those who come after, and casually toss onto others goals one could not even accomplish oneself…
that is even more foolish!