Chapter 268: Sacred and Mundane

Hiss. The silver dragon in the Meteorfall Sea gasped in astonishment, swallowing mouthfuls of seawater.

Crazy, absolutely crazy.

Garon, observing the Guardian Angel and the Imaskar Empire people in the scene, thought to himself.

Even Garon dared not provoke the gods so blatantly.

Having dealt with gods before, he deeply understood the mighty power they possessed.

"Offering the blood of a god to glorify the great Imaskar?"

Such words sounded powerful, but they undoubtedly slapped the faces of the gods. If the Imaskar Empire survived, the gods would no longer be worthy of ruling the multiverse.

At such a critical moment.

Countless ancient beings watched in secret as the war between the Miracle Empire and the Saint's avatar erupted. Naturally, the events involving the Guardian Angel were reported to the gods immediately, including those on the Ferun continent and the recently arrived Saint Enlil and Saint Mulholland.

The Guardian Angel was Imaskar Empire's top demigod-tier miracle machine.

Moreover, it contained the soul and will of the Emperor of Imaskar, the protector and war machine of the empire.

In other words.

Every action of the Guardian Angel represented the will of the Imaskar Empire.

Its words were essentially a declaration of war against the gods.

What would the gods think upon hearing the Empire's declaration?

Garon felt that even his adult self would probably not see another sunrise if he made such arrogant remarks in front of so many gods. There are always greater beings, both humans and gods, in the multiverse. The Imaskar Empire failed to recognize its place, being too arrogant and proud, believing it could rival the gods.

The empire's downfall was destined from the moment they attempted to create a god.

"But, does the Imaskar Empire really not understand the power of the gods?"

"Is it worth provoking and insulting the gods for a momentary surge in faith?"

The silver dragon pondered as he watched the Guardian Angel.

As the Guardian Angel executed the Saint's avatar in an almost insulting manner, gaining massive faith power, the skies over the Ferun continent suddenly darkened again.

Thunderclouds rolled in, bringing torrential rain.

Dazzling lightning and thunder rumbled in the clouds, making the almost black sky seem like it would crash down to earth.

A sense of impending apocalypse filled the air, spreading panic across the land. This feeling wasn't limited to the eastern Imaskar Empire; it affected all life forms on Ferun, as if countless gods were casting disdainful glances at the continent.

Meanwhile.

Garon's communication crystal vibrated, bearing the magical fluctuations of Eoleum.

Magic swirled, forming a barrier that insulated against the deep-sea pressure, safeguarding the crystal as a light spell dispelled the darkness of the deep sea.

Soon.

Eoleum's visage appeared before Garon.

The great Archmage was at the top of his mage tower, standing tall amidst the stormy weather, with incessant lightning striking around him. Nesseriel, in the north of Ferun, was also affected by the wrath of the gods.

"Garon, where are you?"

Eoleum asked, surprised at the dark seascape surrounding Garon.

"In the depths of Meteorfall Sea. The situation on the continent is too chaotic; I'm laying low here."

Garon replied.

Eoleum nodded, "I noticed the source of the disturbance on Ferun is from the east, remembering you went to the Imaskar Empire."

"Lucky you left Imaskar. Otherwise, you'd be caught in a huge mess."

He paused, looking at the raging storm clouds, "What did the Miracle Empire do to provoke such wrath from so many gods?"

Garon, watching the Guardian Angel's actions, told Eoleum, "The Imaskar Empire is too arrogant and proud. From their miracle workers to ordinary citizens, they've lost their reverence for the gods. Angering them was inevitable."

Historically, Imaskar was supposed to be destroyed by the Saints at the peak of Nesseriel's development. However, due to Garon's presence altering the timeline, everything was accelerated. Nesseriel had just started.

Moreover, Garon and Eoleum hadn't been in contact for over a decade.

Eoleum had been secluded, studying the core of the Magic Web, while Garon was busy manipulating historical events and powering the Time-Space Gate. Neither had much free time.

The gods' fury prompted Eoleum to end his seclusion.

After more than ten years, this Archmage contacted Garon again.

Thinking of the Magic Web Core, Garon inquired, "How's your research? Did you succeed with the Magic Web Core?"

Eoleum smiled, nodding, "Nearly a decade ago, I created the Magic Web Core."

He opened his palm.

With a spatial fluctuation, a beautifully crafted blue-purple sphere appeared in his hand.

The few centimeters in diameter, the blue-purple sphere glowed softly, closely connected to the Magic Web. It floated naturally, without any magical input from Eoleum.

"This is a miniature Magic Web Core."

"Now I'm working on enlarging it to create a massive one."

Looking at the stormy sky, Eoleum continued, "Soon, the world will witness the rising of a floating city."

Garon looked at the exquisite core, realizing it was beyond his ability to create.

"Let me know when the first floating city takes off. If I'm still on Ferun, I might take a look."

Eoleum nodded in agreement.

After discussing the current situation on Ferun, Garon and Eoleum ended their communication.

Then.

The silver dragon extended his left wrist.

The Imaskar Magic Ring flew out, its intertwined nine-colored lights illuminating the area.

Looking at the Time-Space Gate, Garon pondered.

A few minutes later.

Garon wore the Imaskar Magic Ring on his wrist again.

However, instead of injecting his time power into it, the dragon began to draw the time energy bound by the ring.

Due to the extensive use of time power, Garon had been resting in Meteorfall Sea for a month but was still not at his peak. To seize the Imaskar relics in the upcoming chaos, he needed to return to his prime.

The lost energy of the Time-Space Gate would have to be replenished later.

Otherwise, this trip and long stay in this timeline, witnessing and participating in the fall of a Miracle Empire, would be a huge loss if he gained nothing.

In the quiet depths of Meteorfall Sea.

The silver dragon rapidly absorbed the time power, his weakened aura growing stronger and more substantial. His dull and spotty scales regained their shine, glittering brilliantly.

Meanwhile, Garon kept an eye on the Guardian Angel's movements.

On the other side, the world's anomalies didn't stop the demigod miracle machines.

They moved even faster.

The Guardian Angel, the Angel of Slaughter, and the Angel of Destruction, these three demigod miracle machines, swiftly traversed the land, ruthlessly eliminating one Saint's avatar after another.

God-slaying, deity-killing – words that could excite or terrify all life. For the Imaskar people, their empire's miracle machines killing the Saint's avatars boosted their identification and trust in the empire to unprecedented heights, described only as fanatical.

This was the effect the Imaskar Empire desired.

As the faith power gathered on the three demigod miracle machines increased, far surpassing normal times, the multiverse would soon welcome three new mechanical deities if this continued.

But.

Would the gods give the Imaskar Empire the time?

At the Godwatch Mountains.

One by one, the Saints opened their eyes.

Crack!

Bright, searing lightning struck, illuminating the darkened sky for moments, like daylight.

Amid the burst of lightning, the Saints remained silent.

The atmosphere around them was almost tangible.

The creatures residing in the Godwatch Mountains sensed the Saints' unquenchable fury, shivering in the pouring rain, silent as cicadas.

"Mere mortals, daring to insult the gods!"

"Destruction and death are their only means of atonement."

Azure lightning swirled around Saint Enlil.

Saint Lashen's expression was calm, but divine flames capable of destroying everything appeared on his body.

The children of the main gods, too, bore angry expressions.

The Saints had already given the Imaskar Empire a chance.

The Saints were not devils. Had the Imaskar shown any reverence to the gods in front of the Saint's avatar, the Saints would have been merciful. However, the Imaskar Empire showed no fear but further provoked and even humiliated the gods.

Such blasphemous mortals were rare even in the long history the gods had witnessed.

The Imaskar Empire successfully ignited the gods' raging fury.

One by one, the enshrouded Saints stood up.

Step by step, bathed in wind and rain, they walked through the air.

The torrential rain poured down, but as it approached the Saints, it seemed to come alive, respectfully parting before reconverging beneath their feet. Unaffected by the weather, the Saints dispersed, slowly approaching the Imaskar Empire.

Soon.

The Saints neared the Imaskar border cities.

The miracle machine legions stationed at the borders spotted the Saints.

With their distinctive aura, they stood out like beacons in the night.

Quark City, one of the Imaskar Empire's border towns.

Saint Enlil stepped through the void, approaching step by step.

Several Legendary miracle workers, sweating profusely under the oppressive aura, divided their focus to control numerous Legendary-level miracle machines guarding the city, staring intently at Saint Enlil.

As the distance closed to the machines' attack range.

The Lord in miracle armor bellowed, "Stop!"

"One more step..."

Before he could finish.

Crack!

Without warning, a half-meter diameter thunderbolt descended from the sky.

The blinding light instantly engulfed the miracle commander, consuming him.

The well-crafted miracle armor had an automatic defense system.

Reacting swiftly, the armor activated its protective shield the moment it detected the high-energy response, tuning it to counteract the lightning. The oval shield enveloped the miracle commander.

However.

Saint Enlil's thunderbolt wasn't an ordinary natural lightning strike.

It contained transcendent divine power.

Under the desperate gaze of the miracle commander, the shield lasted only a second before shattering. Then, the frail body of the miracle worker was obliterated under the divine thunderbolt.

And this was just the beginning.

Boom! Boom!

Deep, dragon-like thunder roared incessantly, and silver-white lightning and azure thunderbolts, accompanied by the storm, descended with annihilating force, covering and attacking the entire Quark City. Under the storm's fury, the miracle constructs and workers guarding the city were instantly destroyed.

Each lightning bolt spelled the end for a miracle worker.

In this cataclysmic force, building after building collapsed, and many Imaskars turned to ashes.

How could a mere miracle city withstand a Saint?

Unlike the miracle angels, Saints were true demigods, sometimes even stronger than real demigods, depending on the god's power. In Saint Enlil's presence, three divinely empowered miracle angels combined couldn't withstand destruction.

In minutes, a city of hundreds of thousands lay in ruins.

Only a few lucky survivors remained in the devastated city.

Saint Enlil ignored the few surviving Imaskars, proceeding towards other cities in the empire at a steady pace.

Similar scenes unfolded elsewhere.

The Fire God's Saint unleashed infernal flames, reducing miracle cities to ashes.

The Sea God's Saint summoned tsunamis, drowning and consuming miracle cities.

Like Saint Enlil.

The other Saints, after destroying their first cities, didn't immediately fly to others. Instead, they unleashed destructive divine powers along the way, crumbling the Imaskar Empire's lands inch by inch. Miracle machine legions tried to stop them before reaching the cities, hoping to halt their advance.

But without exception, these intervening legions were annihilated.

They faced not avatars, but the Saints themselves. Before their might, the legions capable of sweeping Ferun were effortlessly crushed, even Legendary-level miracles unable to scratch the divine shields.

With over twenty Saints taking the field.

The Imaskar Empire's lands crumbled, disasters rampant. Once bustling miracle cities lay in ruins, quickly turning into desolate wastelands.

The Imaskar Empire, at its zenith, was powerless against the Saints' might, marching towards ruin and obliteration.

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