Divine Mask: I Have Numerous God Clones

The Kragmir Clan was thrown into utter chaos. The sudden assault by the Malachor Clan had caught them completely off guard, but what truly left them stunned were the Nether Puppets—creations far beyond anything they had ever faced.

These puppets moved with an eerie swiftness, their attacks ruthless and precise, overwhelming the Kragmir's prized undead golems with frightening ease. Panic rippled through the Kragmir ranks as their golem puppets, once thought to be indomitable, fell one by one to the Malachor invaders.

Amid the confusion and mounting destruction, the leader of the Kragmir Clan stormed out of his stronghold. His face was twisted in fury, his eyes blazing as he surveyed the battlefield. Towering behind him was his personal 7-star undead golem puppet, a hulking, stone-infused colossus with massive, clenched fists that seemed ready to crush anything in its path.

"MALACHOR SCUM!" the Kragmir leader roared, his voice booming across the battlefield. He marched toward the leader of the Malachor Clan, who stood arrogantly in the center of the chaos, his Nether Puppet looming beside him like a shadow.

"You dare attack my clan?" the Kragmir leader snarled, his teeth bared in rage. "You will regret this!"

The leader of the Malachor Clan remained calm, his lips curling into a smirk that barely masked his contempt. His eyes flicked briefly to the undead golem behind his rival, but he showed no sign of fear or hesitation.

"Oh, I highly doubt that," he said, his voice cold and mocking. "Look around you. You're already losing." His smirk deepened, eyes gleaming with confidence. "But I'm feeling generous. I'll give you a chance—fight me, one on one. Let's see whose clan truly reigns supreme."

The Kragmir leader's expression twisted into one of fury. His eyes flicked between his opponent and the Nether Puppet, sensing its unnatural power. Still, his pride pushed him forward.

"Fine," the Kragmir leader growled. "I'll crush you with my own hands!"

Without another word, the air between them thickened with tension as both leaders commanded their puppets to attack. The ground trembled beneath the weight of the impending clash as the massive forms of the undead golem and the Nether Puppet lunged at each other. The force of their impact sent a shockwave through the battlefield, rattling the nearby soldiers from both clans.

The Kragmir leader, face flushed with determination, shouted commands to his undead golem. "Smash it! Destroy that abomination!"

The golem obeyed, slamming its massive stone fists toward the Nether Puppet with devastating force. Each blow shook the ground like thunder, but the Malachor leader's puppet moved with an eerie, unnatural agility. The dark-red figure dodged effortlessly, its lithe movements almost mocking the heavy, slow strikes of the golem.

"You call that strength?" the Malachor leader mocked, his voice dripping with disdain. "Your puppet moves like a sluggish ox. This is what true power looks like."

The Nether Puppet danced around the undead golem's attacks with terrifying precision, countering with swift, calculated strikes. Each hit landed perfectly, targeting weak spots in the golem's defenses that even the Kragmir leader had never considered vulnerable. Cracks began forming along the golem's stone arms, thin at first, but growing deeper with every exchange.

"Impossible!" the Kragmir leader spat, his voice betraying the panic creeping into his chest. His once towering confidence began to crumble as he watched the fight unfold. "How is this happening? My golem is unbreakable!"

But the reality before him told a different story. Every time the Nether Puppet struck, it seemed to gain strength, while the golem, once a symbol of impenetrable power, visibly weakened. The Kragmir leader's eyes widened in disbelief as more cracks appeared, not just on the golem's arms but across its chest and legs.

The Malachor leader watched the scene with an infuriatingly calm demeanor, hands behind his back, his lips curling into a wider smirk. "Is that fear I see on your face? You're realizing it now, aren't you? Your precious golem is no match for my Nether Puppet. It was over the moment we began."

"Shut up!" the Kragmir leader roared, though his voice cracked under the weight of his realization. He ordered the golem to throw another punch, this time putting all his power into the command, but it was too late. The golem's movements were slower, labored under the strain of its cracking body.

The Nether Puppet easily dodged the sluggish attack and retaliated with a powerful strike to the golem's midsection. This time, the sound of shattering stone echoed through the battlefield. The golem staggered back, its chest fractured wide open, pieces of its stone armor crumbling to the ground.

"What... what is this?" the Kragmir leader muttered, horror etched into his features. His once-solid resolve was fading fast as the reality of his defeat began to sink in. He had never seen a puppet, let alone one of his strongest creations, fall apart so easily.

"What's happening is simple," the Malachor leader said, his voice cold and cutting. "You were outclassed from the start. Your outdated golem was no match for true innovation. This is the future—your clan is stuck in the past."

The Kragmir leader's breath quickened, his mind racing, but there was nothing he could do. He watched helplessly as his once-mighty undead golem staggered, its body disintegrating piece by piece under the relentless assault of the Nether Puppet.

Desperation flashed in his eyes. "No, I can still—"

Before he could finish his sentence, the Nether Puppet delivered a final, devastating blow to the golem's head. The stone skull shattered into dust, and the massive puppet collapsed to the ground in a heap of broken rubble.

The Kragmir leader stood frozen, his eyes locked on the shattered remains of his once-mighty undead golem. His hands trembled at his sides as he struggled to comprehend the scene before him.

"This… can't be…" he whispered, his voice weak and trembling. The arrogance, the rage—all of it had drained from him, leaving behind only disbelief and fear. His entire world seemed to be crumbling with the pieces of his fallen puppet.

His lips quivered, his breath shallow. The mighty golem, his symbol of power and dominance, lay in ruins, broken beyond repair. His pride, his confidence—everything had been shattered in the same crushing blow.

The Malachor leader stepped forward, his every movement deliberate, his footsteps echoing ominously across the battlefield.

His smirk had grown into a full, predatory grin that exuded triumph. The confidence in his eyes was unshakable, and his voice, when he spoke, was dripping with condescension and satisfaction.

"It's over, Kragmir," the Malachor leader drawled, his tone slow and savoring each word as though he was tasting victory itself. "You've lost."

The Kragmir leader's eyes snapped to the Malachor leader, wide with desperation. "No..." he stammered, shaking his head as though denying the reality would change it. "There must be... there has to be something..."

The Malachor leader chuckled, a cold, heartless sound that sent a shiver down Kragmir's spine. "Still clinging to hope, I see? Pathetic."

He took another step forward, his gaze piercing, like a predator circling its prey. "You were never a match for me. Your golem? Outdated. Your clan? Stuck in the past.

And now? You're just a relic watching the future unfold right before your eyes."

The Kragmir leader swallowed hard, his throat dry, his hands balled into fists, but he could feel his strength waning. "We can still... negotiate," he muttered, the desperation creeping into his voice. He had never imagined he'd be the one begging for mercy, but there he was, grasping at the last straws of survival.

The Malachor leader's grin widened, his eyes gleaming with cruel amusement. "Negotiate?" He laughed mockingly. "You're in no position to negotiate, Kragmir. You had your chance. And now... well, now you're just a defeated dog." His voice dropped, dark and menacing.

"And I don't negotiate with the weak."

Kragmir's heart pounded in his chest as the weight of his defeat fully settled in. He had no words left, no arguments, no strength to fight back. His entire being felt hollow, crushed under the realization that this was the end.

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