An Army Of 100,000 Gods

"How is that possible?"

The God of Destruction, Yesmola, had a terrified expression on his face. The arms wrapped around his body were severely injured.

The youth in front of him had just casually pointed a finger, and a wave of energy that surpassed the level of normal starlight-tier had entered his body and wreaked havoc on it. It looked like he had the strength of a demigod. However, in a real battle, the youth's strength was even stronger than his.

'How is there an existence that can stand shoulder to shoulder with a god in this small mortal world? And what is that thing on his chest? Is that a race chess piece? What kind of style is it? I don't think I have ever seen it before.'

He stared blankly at Watson's chest—that golden-green chess piece. With his experience as a god, he could see that it was a complete race chess piece. However, even though he had participated in the ancient wars, he could not tell which race that chess piece had belonged to.