Chapter 099: The Star-Shaking Blast
"Ah? Y-yeah... that must be it," Grey stammered, swallowing nervously.
Only the third round—and already, chaos of this magnitude? What awaited them in the matches to come?
"But it should be fine... right?" she mumbled, more to herself than anyone else. "As long as the barrier holds, his power won't fully manifest inside it."
Heimdall, ever the commentator, elaborated on the barrier's nature. The space surrounding the Devil's Star—Venus—was not only guarded but enchanted with a suppression field. It dampened divine energy. Even Zeus himself, in peak condition, was limited to a tenth of his full might within it.
"This is a secure zone!" Heimdall assured the crowd. "There's absolutely nothing to worry abou—"
The sentence never finished.
His jaw dropped with an audible clack, as though dislocated. His eyes bulged, glasses pressing against his face like they were too small to contain his shock.
Because a streak of light—brilliant and deadly—had fallen from the heavens.
And struck the barrier.
All conversation ceased.
Just moments before, everyone had debated Venus's danger level, its seal, its safety. Now, Heimdall's promise of security hung broken in the air.
Meteors striking Venus weren't uncommon. Cosmic debris littered the solar system, flaring like shooting stars as they entered the dense atmosphere. But this impact—this stream of light—it wasn't natural.
It ignited a reaction in the barrier. It flared violently, blasting away part of Venus's famously thick atmosphere. The rupture formed a massive hole—through which the surface was now clearly visible.
No one had to guess. This was no accident.
Someone was attacking the seal.
And Heimdall's promise? It flickered like a faulty bulb.
"What was that?"
The camera zoomed in.
It was… a spear?
And impaled upon that spear—a skull.
"Brunhilde—t-that spear… isn't it…"
Grey's voice trembled.
"Yes," Brunhilde replied flatly. "That's Odin's spear."
But Odin hadn't aimed it at the seal. He'd thrown it at Dōman.
Clearly, Dōman had manipulated everything to bring that weapon to this moment.
Several chief gods were now questioning Odin, whose shadowed expression betrayed a grim realization.
The spear wasn't merely an attack—it was a key. And its next target was the very barrier protecting Venus.
Crack.
The barrier fissured.
Then shattered.
With a sound like glass exploding beneath thunder, the seal collapsed in a cascade of light and dust.
A defense that Zeus himself couldn't break, now undone by Odin's artifact—not through raw strength, but by divine specificity. Gungnir was not any spear—it was destiny incarnate.
And having fulfilled its purpose, Gungnir descended once more—plunging into Dōman's corpse on the surface.
It vanished.
Mission complete.
Then… the sky changed.
Dozens—hundreds—of talismans began to fall like feathers. Paper sigils. Blank sheets filled with arcane patterns but devoid of power… until now.
As Dōman's skull joined with his shattered body, his corpse reassembled itself.
And from the hollow sockets and gaping jaws—darkness erupted.
Black mist poured out like ink spilled from oblivion. As the talismans touched the ground, the earth writhed.
Like boiling mud, the terrain churned. Something was forming. Something grotesque.
Mannequins.
Hundreds of doll-like figures erupted from the warped landscape. Round, stunted shapes with blank faces.
The exact same explosive puppets Dōman had deployed during the earlier rounds.
This time… amplified.
Among them, one massive doll—colossal as a mountain—stood up, encasing Dōman's corpse inside its body like a bomb within a shell.
All the puppets lifted their heads toward the stars.
Almost as if… mocking the gods.
Their eerie smiles widened.
And then, light.
A blinding white engulfed everything.
Seen from orbit, the surface of Venus bloomed with catastrophic radiance. The blast shook the planet, threatening its orbital stability.
The smoke churned upward—only to be devoured by a spiraling vortex of black flame.
Inside that maelstrom… monstrous shapes stirred.
Ghosts. Demons. Things that should not exist.
From the abyss came a hatred so raw it stretched across the cosmos.
A tremble passed through every god watching.
And then… the transmission cut off.
Darkness.
Silence gripped the arena.
BOOM—!
The earth underfoot trembled.
All heads turned.
Zeus stood at the center, his staff smashing against the marble floor.
"What's with the fear?" he bellowed. "Have the gods become cowards? Has peace dulled your edge? Turned you all into sheep?"
No one dared speak.
Then—shouts.
Shoulders squared. Voices rose.
"No way!"
"If they want war—we'll give them war!"
"We never finished our battles of old. This time—we settle it completely!"
"WAR! WAR! WAR!"
The gods roared, their blood aflame.
Even the human audience flinched in terror.
War lust had returned. Not in full, not yet—but the seed had been planted.
The beings that escaped had no bodies. Their flesh long destroyed. Only spirits remained.
But spirits could regrow.
They would wait. They would plot.
And as for the war between gods and humanity?
It continued.
Unafraid. Undeterred.
Any force that dared stand in the way—
Would be crushed.
A shadow stirred on Venus.
Omoshirogami—the Star God of Misfortune—stepped into the sunlight.
Deadly sunlight. Fatal, even. For humans, exposure here meant instant death. After all, Venus's atmosphere had been obliterated.
But for him?
It was rejuvenation.
Revenge coursed through his veins.
He would destroy Susanoo. The traitors. The ones who sealed him away.
He grinned.
And then paused.
Zero-Fuku?
That imitation. That pale copy of fortune and misfortune?
Trying to replace him?
Pathetic.
He was the god of luck. Fortune and calamity were his essence. Zero-Fuku was nothing more than a hollow mockery—one easily reclaimed upon release.
Poor wretch—used by Susanoo as a pawn.
And there was more.
The true reason this seal had been broken…
Was not simple chaos.
Dōman had done it for something else.
A mystery.
Omoshirogami looked to the sky.
And froze.
"What is that?"
A few survivors gasped.
High above—towering, mechanical, enormous—floated a metal construct. A juggernaut suspended in air.
But it hadn't come from space.
No meteor trail. No atmospheric entry.
It had… connected.
A rift. A spatial convergence.
The sky of another realm had joined with this one.
And through the doorway—came the machine.
Chapter 100: Suppression—The Emperor's Summons
BOOM!
A groundquake rippled outward. The planet convulsed.
In the center of the devastation lay a beast.
Seven heads. Ten horns. Each head crowned with a twisted diadem.
This was no ordinary monster.
It had once destroyed not gods—but pantheons.
Multiple divine lineages.
Even at his peak, Omoshirogami dared not challenge it.
And now?
It screamed.
It bled.
Overwhelmed by an unimaginable force.
The collars snapped into place. Chains bound its limbs.
It ceased resisting.
One by one, the other apocalyptic creatures were also defeated. Bound. Sealed.
Some were slain outright.
The ones who disobeyed… were eradicated beneath firepower that made the stars weep.
A few fled.
They were intercepted.
Only a handful—Omoshirogami among them—remained untouched. Not because they were spared.
But because the conquerors observed etiquette.
They offered terms before battle.
And when those terms were met with silence?
They attacked.
Those spared entered the metal colossus—without a fight. They watched the prison gates close.
Watched the Devil's Star shrink into distance.
And vanish.