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

"Fishing for survival, descendants of the Piglet, you are undoubtedly the fodder at the bottom of a cruel world, born with souls so base because they hold no value; thus, no divine beings would ever shelter you."


The Blood Priest gazed coldly at the despairing Irene, repeating the words he had already spoken in a previous timeline.


"Since you have no refuge, become a sacrifice to satiate our lord's appetite."


Just like before, a terrifying bolt of lightning fell from the stormy night sky as if a celestial being thrust a white blade through the heavens, splitting the darkness and tearing apart the priest's body.


"I am the Lord of the Lost, the god who shall indeed resurrect."


"Your achievement aids a great endeavor, contributing a portion of power."


The pact between "The End and the Fischer family" was signed once again; up until now, everything had occurred without any deviations from the initial events.


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