Awakening：The Infinite Evolution of My Talent as a Low-Level Awakener

The God of Thunder and Courage found himself completely encircled by five Ashen deities, including the God of Painting and Swordsmanship. Their eyes were cold, as if he were nothing more than a lamb awaiting slaughter.

Unless he could somehow transform into a higher god instantly, his fate seemed sealed. He would be worn down and killed, just like the three Orichalcum gods before him.

The God of Shadows watched him closely, ready to exploit even the slightest misstep. If he showed the smallest weakness, the same deadly ability that had defeated the God of the Prairie would be used against him. One hit would leave him critically wounded, if not outright dead, rendering him defenseless.

He took a deep breath, feeling a creeping numbness in his mind. Four gods had been defeated and killed right in front of him. The sudden and brutal turn of events rattled him to his core.

"Am I really going to die here? Is Orichalcum truly going to be destroyed here? At this moment… is there anyone who can save me, anyone who can break Orichalcum free from this nightmare?"

In his heart, he fantasized about a savior—a god who would appear to turn the tide and deliver Orichalcum from the brink. If such a figure appeared, he would give anything, even the rare Soul Treasure long kept by Orichalcum's gods. He would serve unquestioningly, willingly.

On the battlefield below, loyal soldiers of Orichalcum knelt, tears streaming down their faces as they gazed at the God of Thunder and Courage, surrounded and in mortal peril.

"Oh, heavens, is there no one to save us?" "Ancestors of Orichalcum, please help us!" "Are we truly facing annihilation?" "Why? Why must it be this way? We only wanted a place to call home. Why are we being hunted to extinction? Why such cruelty?"

Their voices rose in a sorrowful, desperate chorus, praying for a miracle.

But this was a war of gods, where the very existence of deities was itself a miracle under [Transcendence] rules. Yet, in this war of miracles, Orichalcum had lost. What miracle could there be for them now? Their fate was sealed.

"Hahaha! Foolish invaders, look at you now, groveling on the ground like dogs!"

"Come on! Weren't you so arrogant? Didn't you claim you would kill us all and seize our lands?"

"This is the fate of invaders! Your children will become our slaves, and as for your wives and daughters… heh, don't worry, we'll take good care of them," taunted a soldier from Ashen's forces, laughing wildly.

For three years, Orichalcum's strength had kept Ashen in check, and countless comrades had fallen to these invaders. They had lost land, seen cities destroyed, and accumulated a sea of blood and hatred between the two sides. Now, sensing victory, they shouted with unrestrained triumph, venting all the pent-up rage and bitterness within.

"Do you see it now? The outcome is clear. If you're willing to submit and wear this slave collar, I can spare your life," the God of Painting and Swordsmanship sneered, holding a spiked slave collar in his hand. "You'll still be a god of Orichalcum—just with an added title: Ashen's loyal dog! Hahaha! And don't worry; I'll let you oversee the enslavement of Orichalcum's people."

The collar was a demeaning piece Ashen had crafted at great expense. It was designed to subdue even a god's soul. While it couldn't completely control the mind, it could instantly extinguish the wearer's soul at a whim. And the collar itself, shaped to resemble one meant for a pet dog, was intended to be the ultimate humiliation for a proud deity.

Hearing the taunts echo around him, the God of Thunder and Courage glared fiercely at the five gods surrounding him. The fantasy of a savior was just that—a fantasy. No one was coming to his aid.

But as he looked at that degrading collar, an overwhelming rage and sorrow surged within him. He was a god—the god of unyielding courage and the mighty thunder. He would never bow, never wear a collar meant for a dog! He would rather die than submit.

"Then I'll take you down with me!" he roared, charging at the five gods, his body blazing with the power of the Thunder Law.

But five against one—his fate was all but sealed. In just one exchange, his Thunder and Courage Law were shattered by the overwhelming numbers, and he was left severely wounded.

"It's time for me to step in," Sterl murmured from afar, watching the God of Thunder and Courage with a measured gaze. He began to channel his power, preparing to make his move.

The reason Sterl waited until now was to maximize the weakening of Orichalcum's forces. If he had intervened earlier, with no casualties on Orichalcum's side, they would remain at full strength after Ashen's defeat. How would he fight them then?

But now, with only the God of Thunder and Courage remaining, it was finally time for him to act.

As for the true nature of this conflict, it wasn't a matter of right or wrong. Orichalcum sought to secure territory to root themselves in this world and complete the fusion of their capital. The native factions, in contrast, were defending their world and its inhabitants. From each side's perspective, the other was a vicious threat, a natural enemy. There was no need for moral judgment—both were fighting for their own survival and interests.

Sterl was no different. His intervention wasn't to secure a home for Orichalcum or to help Ashen protect their world; it was all for the sake of his legendary story.

And why side with Orichalcum? Simple—it was merely the best choice to achieve his own goal.

"It seems you've made your decision," the God of Painting and Swordsmanship remarked, looking at the bloodied, unyielding old deity before him, his gaze filled with cold killing intent.

A double-divine authority god like this could greatly expand his own influence if they were willing to submit. Even within the same faction, there were always political factions and alliances. But this god refused, unwilling to swallow even a morsel of humiliation. For him, submission was a weakling's price to pay, and this offer of mercy was a rare gift.

Yet, if his opponent rejected that chance, he would gladly withdraw this offer of survival and grant him death instead.

"This place shall be your tomb, buried for eternity!"

A brilliant, multi-colored sword materialized in his hand, emanating a fearsome killing intent as he prepared to drive it into the God of Thunder and Courage.

The latter's eyes widened as he stared down the approaching blade, his body trembling. His very soul felt fear. He could have surrendered his pride and secured a long life, but he couldn't bring himself to bow to his enemies or to be their dog, their slave.

With that thought, the fear in his heart vanished, leaving him to face death with unyielding resolve.

At that moment, Sterl finally made his move!

A vast, towering wave of energy erupted from afar, sending a surging shockwave of power across the battlefield, as immense as the ocean itself.

Human Race Divine Authority! Creation Divine Authority! Nature Divine Authority!

Three divine authorities concentrated within him, enhanced further by abilities like Divine Descent, pushing his power beyond the limits of the lower Divine Power tier.

In an instant, Sterl's body became a flurry of illusions. With the Law of Time amplifying him, his speed transcended physical limits, and he appeared in the heart of the battle in the blink of an eye.

The sudden outburst caught everyone off guard. Those below the level of a god couldn't even comprehend what had happened.

The God of Painting and Swordsmanship hesitated, his hand stopping mid-motion, stunned by the sudden surge of power. But before he could grasp what was happening, Sterl moved!

He lifted his hand slowly, almost leisurely, as though he was merely stretching after watching for too long. A gleam rippled around his hand as Star Power condensed into a sword-like blade, its appearance enhanced by the Flowing Water Law, resembling waves frozen in time.

Then came the activation of Shattered Void!

The power of the Law of Time was the ultimate force of [Transcendence] within the lower realm. His movements created a chaotic, blended trail of afterimages, like countless frames stitched together in rapid sequence. In those afterimages, blades and sword lights intertwined with Spatial Law Power, transforming into a flood of destruction aimed at the five gods in front of him.

A breathtaking sight, yet it held a lethally sharp intent that defied imagination. Those below the level of a god felt their eyes sting just from a glance, with the risk of permanent damage if they continued to look.

The lethal energy, even accelerated by the Law of Time to near-instantaneous speed, was still captured by the senses of the gods.

But Sterl was prepared. He activated the Blood of the Holy Spirit, combining both Spatial Law and Time Law to instantly freeze the five deities in place.

He had already tested this move when he saved Gloria and instantly killed three gods. For lower-realm deities of weak Divine Power, it was an unavoidable death sentence—whether they reacted or not. And this time, he had struck too suddenly, giving them no time to react.

Now trapped by the Spatial Law, the gods could only watch helplessly as the dazzling torrent of energy swept toward them!

In that fleeting moment, the sky blazed with divine light—a spectacle of deadly radiance.

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