"Quite interesting!"
Standing at the highest point of the sky, Muria, while casually chatting with Mikaela, was fully aware of every movement on the battlefield. Nothing happening below could escape his perception.
Every fallen giant, every dragon plummeting from the sky—Muria saw it all. Yet, he chose not to intervene.
This was his first conflict with an epic being from outside the world of Erathia, the first war of his subordinate armies. Fortunately, the epic being in question was not present.
Thus, his subordinate legion had an excellent opportunity to train and adapt to battles against the armies of epic beings from beyond Erathia.
If Muria had intervened, he could have ensured his legion suffered no casualties, even achieving a flawless victory with zero losses. But what would be the point?
The purpose of forming a subordinate legion was to assist him in conflicts and wars against evil gods, not to create a burden for himself.
He could intervene now, but what if he were to face another epic being in battle? Could he still intervene then? Likely not. At that point, he would need his legion's support, not for them to drag him down and require his assistance.
Therefore, in his perception, the deaths of those giants and dragons—whose fates he could have changed—were necessary.
For a legion to grow stronger, it must be tempered through war, paving its path with blood and bones—both of its enemies and its own.
Thus, Muria's attitude toward the deaths of his subordinates was cold. Yet, this coldness was not absolute, as he continuously condensed martial stars through his martial avatar.
These stars, floating around him, would occasionally fall, crashing into the bodies of dragons or giants, significantly enhancing their abilities.
Some dragons or giants on the verge of death would receive a golden star, granting them the power to turn the tide.
However, not all subordinates on the brink of death received stars. Some, who were already dominating their battles, also received them.
Muria did not care—or forced himself not to care—about the casualties. The criteria for granting martial stars were not based on who was in danger but on merit.
Those who killed the most enemies at their level were more likely to receive a martial star.
This was a fair and just system, where capable individuals proved themselves and earned more resources. Any thriving organization operates this way.
"What's wrong? Did something happen below?" Mikaela, noticing her husband's sudden shift in attention, asked curiously.
She knew most of Muria's focus was on the battlefield. To put it bluntly, her husband was only half-paying attention to their conversation, diverting most of his awareness to the war.
"Something very special has appeared below—a unique divine weapon," Muria said with a playful smile.
"A divine weapon? How special?" Mikaela, familiar with these biological weapons originally crafted from the flesh of evil god subordinates, was intrigued.
When Muria found her, she had been living in a base city, disguised as an ordinary divine weapon wielder, gathering information.
"Very special. It's a weapon that shouldn't have been born under normal circumstances."
Muria took Mikaela's hand and gently pulled. Their bodies remained in the air, but two illusory figures, identical to them, separated from their forms.
"Come, I'll take you down to see it."
"Your research on clones is impressive!" Mikaela remarked, surprised that Muria could create a clone based on her consciousness without her consent.
"Of course. I've observed the operational laws of several worlds. This is child's play for me," Muria replied with a smile as he led his wife's clone downward.
...
"This divine weapon!"
The man stared at the weapon in his hand, which was voraciously devouring the blood of giants. His initial excitement gradually turned to terror as he realized the weapon was slipping beyond his control.
At first, the weapon only consumed the blood spilled on the ground. But once it drained the blood from the ground, it began to draw the remaining blood from the giant's corpse.
The man soon found himself completely unable to control the weapon. His initial joy at the weapon's growing strength through consuming giant blood turned to sheer panic.
He knew all too well what would happen if the weapon went out of control. Before the weapon's upgrades, divine weapons forged from the flesh of evil god subordinates had shown the horrific fate of wielders during a rampage.
However, after the initial panic, the man calmed down. He realized the weapon was merely ignoring his commands, not actively trying to harm him.
Or perhaps, rather than turning on its master, the weapon found consuming the blood and essence of giants to be a more appealing option.
This was the man's assumption. Having survived in the wilderness with his son, he had faced the darkest aspects of human nature. Thus, he instinctively prepared for the worst in any situation.
This way, if the worst happened, he could face it with a steady mind. If it didn't, he could treat it as a pleasant surprise, even if the outcome was still bad.
As the man's thoughts raced, the weapon underwent further changes. Several translucent, jade-like tendons extended from the weapon and plunged into his wrist.
"Ah—"
The man let out a cry of pain but quickly stifled it. He then tried to pull the tendons out of his wrist, but the moment he tugged, beads of sweat formed on his forehead.
Pain—that was all he felt. It was as if the tendons were part of his own flesh, and pulling them felt like tearing his own vital tissues.
"Mmm..."
The man, who had just been writhing in agony, let out a moan of pleasure. He felt power surging through his body, an ecstasy he had never experienced before.
"What's going on?" The man, now feeling an endless stream of power flowing from the weapon, was utterly confused. He could sense his strength growing but had no idea how it was happening.
As the man underwent this transformation through the weapon, two figures hidden in the folds of space observed and discussed the scene.
"Mika, what do you think?" Muria asked, looking at the bizarre spectacle before them.
"If I'm not mistaken, the residual soul of the fallen giant has merged with the weapon, causing its mutation," Mikaela replied, observing the light flowing from the giant's corpse into the weapon. She recognized it as the essence of the giant's soul.
"Correct."
"But how could this happen? Even if a giant's soul was damaged in battle, how could it inhabit a weapon?"
"Indeed, it doesn't make sense."
"Didn't you say earlier that this is the world's last act of defiance? So, the birth of this weapon is the world's doing?"
"I let it slip. I should've kept it to myself so you could keep guessing," Muria said, feigning regret before confirming Mikaela's speculation.
"This seemingly illogical weapon was born through a series of highly improbable yet entirely reasonable coincidences."
"What's the point?" Mikaela was puzzled. "Isn't this just handing you a gift?"
"Perhaps it's the world's final act of defiance. Knowing its impending fate, it wants to leave one last mark of its existence."
"Are you planning to mass-produce these weapons for your legion? You'd need a lot of giant souls. Or are you planning to slaughter half your giants to arm the other half?" Mikaela teased.
"The materials for these weapons are quite versatile. Giant souls can be replaced with souls of equivalent beings," Muria replied, stroking his chin. He had already planned to summon his demiplane after the war to conduct his ambitious experiments.
But now, in the midst of this war, the world had thrown him this curveball. How stubbornly endearing.
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