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I become the Supreme deity at the start

When Solarian, an everyday individual, faces an untimely demise, he discovers that death is not the end but a gateway to a new, unimaginable existence. Reincarnated as a being at the zenith of power, he embarks on an extraordinary journey, morphing into a god revered and feared across realms. But what would you do if you were in his shoes? Would you embrace the role of a benevolent guardian, spreading kindness and prosperity, or would you succumb to the allure of becoming a malevolent ruler, wielding fear and dominance? So, let's follow solarian in his journey as he truly the supreme deity.

Origin_Progenitor · Fantaisie
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34 Chs

Daemon God Asmodeus

Year 5500

After Asmodeus departed from the world, transforming into ethereal particles 500 years ago, the daemon realm underwent significant transformations. Asmodeus was deified by the daemons, honored as Daemon God Asmodeus, the sovereign and the First ruler of daemons.

As the inaugural emperor of the Heavenly Daemon Empire, no successor was deemed worthy to ascend to his throne.

Consequently, it was agreed that the empire would be partitioned into duchies governed by noble houses, also known as daemon clans.

This arrangement stipulated that no individual could proclaim themselves emperor or revolt to establish their own kingdom.

All were bound to remain a part of the daemon empire for life.

The daemons discovered the scrolls Asmodeus had left behind, which revealed the methods to advance beyond the supreme stage. 

These advanced stages were categorized into two distinct paths: the sage stage and the saint stage. Attaining the saint stage required the acquisition of divinity, either through the appropriation from other beings or by absorbing divine spirits born from faith or the confluence of world laws, similar to Asmodeus's approach.

On the other hand, reaching the sage stage necessitated a harmonious integration with the world's laws, facilitated by the consumption of law fruits.

These law fruits emerged every few thousand years or could even take tens of thousands of years as a result of the world laws' collision.

Year 5550

By the year 5550, a remarkable discovery was made.

A law fruit, in the midst of formation from the collision of world laws, was stumbled upon by daemons flying through a concealed region in the sky.

The revelation of this law fruit's existence caused a stir throughout the daemon continent, attracting supreme stage beings from all corners.

They converged at the site of the law fruit, each determined to claim it for themselves, igniting a bloody competition for its possession.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows over the hidden area in the sky, the daemon continent's most formidable beings converged, their eyes alight with the fierce desire for the law fruit.

The air crackled with tension, a prelude to the storm that was about to erupt.

The first spell was cast, a simple flicker of magic that ignited the battle like a spark ignites a blaze. What followed was chaos incarnate.

Combatants dashed through the air, their movements a blur, leaving trails of light that crisscrossed the darkening sky.

One warrior, with scars that spoke of countless battles, summoned blades of wind that sliced through the air with a whistle, aiming for his opponents with deadly precision.

Each strike was met with counters of fireballs that exploded on impact, sending shockwaves that could be felt even from afar.

In another corner, a devil sorcerer, his robes tattered from the relentless assault, wove spells of illusion, creating copies of himself to confuse his enemies.

But the trickery was short-lived as a rival, her eyes glowing with the insight of a seer, dispelled the illusions with a wave of her hand, revealing the sorcerer's true location before launching a bolt of lightning that struck him down.

The sound of the battle was deafening, a cacophony of roars, spells, and the clash of weapons.

The ground below was scarred with the remnants of powerful magics, craters glowing with residual energy, and the air was thick with the smell of ozone and blood.

Among the chaos, a duo stood out for their lethal dance. Locked in combat, they moved with a grace that belied the deadly intent behind each strike.

One, a daemoness with wings that shimmered in the moonlight, wielded a whip made of shadows that lashed out with a life of its own, seeking to entangle her opponent.

Her adversary, a giant of a daemon, his skin etched with runes, countered with fists that pounded with the force of earthquakes, shattering the air around them.

The battle raged on, hours blurring into a timeless struggle for supremacy. With each passing moment, the number of combatants dwindled, their dreams of ascension falling to the ground alongside them.

The night air was filled with the sounds of battle, punctuated by moments of eerie silence when a combatant fell, their hopes and ambitions extinguished.

As dawn approached, the intensity of the battle reached its zenith. The few remaining daemons circled each other warily.

Vilran, the last daemon standing after the brutal battle, was a sight of both victory and devastation. Despite his severe injuries—broken bones, a missing hand, and only one eye left—he began to heal, thanks to his supreme stage abilities.

This ability of supreme stage to self-heal had made the battle fiercely relentless, as each combatant could rise again and again, making the fight not just about power, but endurance.

The aftermath of their clash was catastrophic. Mountains lay in ruins, tsunamis had ravaged the lands, and millions of daemons had perished in the disasters caused by their battle. 

But all this seemed distant to Vilran as he beheld the law fruit. It was a stunning sight, glowing red and floating gently in the air, untouched by the chaos below.

To Vilran, it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, a stark contrast to the destruction around him.

With each step towards the fruit, anticipation built within him. When he finally reached out and ate the law fruit, the sensation was indescribable.

A wave of energy, unlike anything Vilran had ever felt, washed over him. It was boundless, filling him with a sense of infinite possibility.

This energy swirled around his heart, which was made of pure energy (Mana), tracing circles around it.

Gradually, this movement formed a ring around his mana heart, symbolizing a profound transformation.

As the ring completed its formation around Vilran's mana heart, his injuries miraculously healed in an instant.

These were not ordinary injuries; they were inflicted by fellow supreme stage beings, wounds so grave that under normal circumstances, they would take decades if not centuries to heal. Vilran's shock quickly turned to realization and awe.

The rapid healing was a clear sign that he had ascended beyond the supreme stage, reaching the realm of a sage—a being superior to all.

Year 5551

The year 5551 marked the dawn of a new golden age for the demon race, an era of prosperity that had been absent since the departure of Asmodeus.

With Vilran achieving the sage stage, the demons once again rose to dominate the continent, their power and influence unmatched by any other race out there in the daemon continent .

Assuming the revered title of 'Demon sage,' Vilran commanded the daemons across the continent to embark on a quest.

They were to uncover the path to the other continent, as hinted at in the scrolls left behind by the Daemon God Asmodeus. 

By the year's end almost all the daemons were finding ways to the other continent.

Once they found the way to the first continent, a war so brutal and cruel would happen, which would outclass all the bloodshed that had happened in the history of elysora.