CHAPTER 93

The old shaman summoned an elite army of forty million orcs, while the opposing force numbered one hundred million—eighty million undead and twenty million abyssal beings, still surpassing him in sheer suppression power. Even his number of legendary beings was lower, but there was nothing he could do. He had to stop the advance of this army, and his mere existence was considered a threat to the enemy force. His presence, which had remained at the legendary level for thousands of years, was incomparable to a being that had only recently broken into the legendary realm.

With such a card in his hand, the shaman raised his voice.

"Undead, leave this continent! Only then will you have the chance to see tomorrow!"

"Just one legendary shaman, and such arrogance?"

Amon took flight, stopping five hundred meters away from the old shaman.

"A mere legendary dares to speak so boldly?"

The shaman was furious. Such disrespect from a mere legendary? Yet, he felt a divine power emanating from him and dared not challenge him recklessly.

"Bold? If only you knew who you were speaking to!"

At that moment, an attack began to form from Amon—a spear forged from the element of death, tainted with the divine power of plague.

Seeing it left the shaman stunned. He had already revealed his legendary power, and by the laws of the world, anyone who dared to attack him could be sentenced to death as a means of restoring his honor, even if the assailant was an ordinary being. Now, if he slaughtered this entire army under such a pretext, he could still protect his own life, even if his god served under another deity.

Yet what shocked him more was the presence of a divine law within the attack targeting him.

What was a divine law? It was derived from the fundamental laws of the universe, and any demigod who comprehended one could ascend to godhood. It didn't matter what world or distance one was in—every god comprehended at least one divine law, or, if they were elite, two. These laws were not exclusive to a single god. There could be millions of war gods, each understanding merely a fraction of the divine law of war, with some exceptional ones comprehending up to one percent, making them vastly superior to the others.

Now, seeing the sheer abnormality of the divine plague law within the attack coming his way, the shaman chose to evade. Even with his swift reaction, the attack merely grazed his skin, but his pupils shrank as he looked at his arm. His skin hadn't even made direct contact with the attack, yet it was already rotting and blistering, forcing him to sever his own hand.

"A god?!?!"

The orc was terrified to his very bones. His opponent wasn't just a legendary being but a god who wielded a law useful in battle. Yet no matter how much he analyzed him, he couldn't understand how Amon only possessed legendary-level power. He was certain his opponent was at the legendary level—so how did he have the power of divine laws?

"Now you're beginning to understand, but it's too late!"

Amon appeared in front of the shaman, just as the shaman realized another possibility.

What if this legendary being had discovered a fragment of divine essence fallen from a deceased god? If so, then the mystery was solved! The legendary power Amon possessed made sense now.

With this realization, greed took hold of the shaman. If he could kill this being, couldn't he absorb his divine plague law?

Greed turned his fear into courage, and he summoned his own magic.

"Spirits, answer my call!"

Hundreds of nature spirits of earth, wind, and fire manifested, empowering the shaman as he encased himself within a golem of pure mana.

On the other side, Amon stood near, watching the legendary being. But he had not been idle—he had created a spherical barrier that surrounded both himself and the shaman.

"Is this the level of legendary beings in this world?"

After his death, he had retained only one-tenth of the divine plague law's power. Disappointed by this world's strength, he enclosed himself and the shaman within a black spherical realm.

"A separating barrier? You want to fight me alone?!"

The shaman was both afraid and shocked. He wasn't a fool—his enemy was confident in his victory, which was why he had the certainty to create such a costly mana barrier.

"If I needed others to help kill you, I would be ashamed as a former mid-tier god..."

That statement sparked a realization in the old shaman. Another possibility! He had forgotten—if a god fell, they could be reborn through certain methods while retaining a fraction of their divine law's power.

And now, according to his own words, he was a former mid-tier god?!

The god of the hunt, whom the shaman worshiped, belonged to the pantheon of hunting gods but was merely a lower god. How dare he, as a legendary being, stand against a former mid-tier god—especially one with a divine law applicable in battle?

If his opponent had possessed a divine law of trade, wealth, or love—things that couldn't be effectively used in battle by non-demigods—he might have had the upper hand. But a divine plague law? No, he had no chance.

The isolated realm darkened further, filled with the condensed power of plague.

"No!!!"

He screamed as Amon recited the absolute sacred texts from the Book of Plague, drawing upon the faith of his followers to fuel his magic.

"When the plague arose, no living being was spared from suffering. In the time of plague, all united, grateful for the god of plague who granted salvation to the weak. Worship the plague god Amon as he bestows salvation with his power. Let our time come as well! By the god of plague Amon, our world is purer! By the god of plague Amon, our world is happier!"

The sacred scriptures of the Book of Plague were being chanted by Amon's entire plague legion—and even by Amon himself—to borrow enough divine power that even a lower god could not match.

Yet, as minutes passed and the old shaman was engulfed within the black mist filling the isolated realm, Amon emerged. But his power was no longer at the legendary level.

By absorbing the old orc and pressing the power of faith, he had ascended to the legendary level, completing his mummified form. Looking back at the massive plague sphere behind him, he let it detonate.

A spherical plague explosion, infused with the divine plague law, spread across a hundred-meter radius.

The orcs, who had just experienced a whirlwind of emotions—watching their legendary orc disappear and failing to comprehend what had transpired—suddenly found themselves facing an even greater army, with even more legendary beings. The old shaman's golem was gone as well.

And then, the mist from the massive explosion spread over their forces.

Coughing, blistering skin, an unbearable itch, vomiting, blindness—this was nothing like the salvation mentioned in the Book of Plague.

This was a painful death—one that only fallen dark beings would worship with such sacred texts.