Chilled Cola Cat

Karl awoke to find himself shockingly reduced to a crippled Evil God confined within a bottle.
The Fischer family had inadvertently become his favored members, sharing a fate connected by blood throughout the generations.
They established a secret clan, infiltrated the state, manipulated wars, ascended the God Pantheon stairway, and fought for the honor and future of the family.
They were assassins lurking in the shadows, beloved scholars, esteemed priests, powerful dukes, and legends in heroic epics.
From budding to robust growth, steampunk evolved; the Spirit Realm descended through dreams; witches and ancient gods stepped forth, and people listened to the lost whispers at their ears.
They were both the creators and the enders of stories.
Generation after generation, in a continuous succession, they marched forward.
"Step over my corpse and go on," he said.

From Secret Clan to the Divine Dynasty

The deep of the night gradually passed, and the early morning had just arrived when the exhausted Fischer family urgently convened a family meeting.


In the cellar of Fischer Manor, the core trio of the family were going over the whole affair from beginning to end, pondering over their next steps.


Byrne breathed a sigh of relief, still somewhat wary, and said with a mix of fortune, "Thank goodness we notified the Lion clan in advance, or the consequences would have been unimaginable."


Then, confusion appeared in his eyes, and he couldn't help but look towards Irene, continuing to say,


"Those ...those so-called followers of the Lord of the Lost spoken of by the Black Lion—what is that about? According to him, a town on the East Coast was sacrificed by the Lost followers, and everyone in the town died."


The news of the town's destruction had not yet spread, but Byrne understood it was only a matter of time before it did, and the term "Lost followers" would become a hot topic.


Chapter 113 Epilogue