A miracle occurred!
Four grotesque heads suddenly grew from the shoulders of the God of Deception, Ulobas—twisting and pressing against one another.
They were the Storm, the Mother Goddess, the God of Knowledge, and the God of War—those who should have been dead, reborn from the remnants of their original divine power!
Their eyes were pitch black, their faces hideous and monstrous, filled with boundless hatred and madness.
"Why?! Weren't we companions?!"
"This is my body!"
"Betrayer! Return my divine power!"
"Hahaha! Everyone must die!"
The newly sprouted heads bared rows of sharp teeth, biting savagely into Ulobas's own, tearing bloody wounds across his face and neck like starving beasts.
"Idiots! A bunch of idiots!" Ulobas roared, his fury boundless.
Bolts of lightning exploded from his eyes, blasting the head of the Storm God into pieces.
With both hands, he violently ripped the God of War's head from his shoulder.
A low, eerie hum echoed from his mouth, dissolving the head of the Mother Goddess into nothingness.
Finally, more than a dozen white eyes opened across his face, glaring directly at the God of Knowledge. Overwhelmed by the endless flood of information, the Knowledge God's head distorted and then burst apart—destroyed by the very power he once wielded.
The gods had died by their own divine powers.
But just then, a holy light descended from the Silver City, pouring over Ulobas.
His flesh mended. His blood reformed. And one by one, the devoured gods' souls were resurrected again!
"No!!"
Ulobas's eyes burned crimson, his fury shaking the dimension itself.
This should not be possible!
He had planned for countless cycles, each time devouring the energy of Ragnarök, deceiving and manipulating, waiting for this moment. He would not—could not—allow failure.
At last, he cast aside all pretense, unleashing his ultimate power. His voice boomed through time and space:
"The future has not happened yet!"
"The truth of the present—negated!"
"The past is not history!"
The power of lies erupted, twisting through reality itself.
Time itself was deceived.
A new false reality was born.
The lower dimension, which should have collapsed, instantly reshaped itself into the Shadow Land once again.
The flesh upon Ulobas's neck stopped its chaotic growth and stabilized. White lines cut across the void, outlining five towering figures:
The God of War.
The God of Storms.
The Mother Goddess.
The God of Knowledge.
And Ulobas, the God of Deception.
Not only had the dead Shadow Ancient Gods returned—it was as if they had never perished at all. And yet now, there was an extra God of Deception among them!
This impossible scene sent a chill through countless beings across the real world. They could feel the crushing weight of this new reality pressing down upon their souls.
And still, the original Ulobas stood dissatisfied, his expression grim.
Something was wrong.
The World Tree should have manifested alongside them. Yet no matter how he stretched his lies through past or future, he could no longer sense its power.
Without the World Tree, the false gods he created from his deception were flawed—they could be killed. They had only one fragile life each.
A devastating weakness.
Still, Ulobas did not hesitate.
With a wave of his hand, he invoked the Original Divine Power once more and proclaimed:
"Ragnarök is ended. The infinite cycles across every timeline are nothing but food for the Shadow!"
At his command, false Ragnarök energy erupted from nothingness.
The Shadow Land blazed with color as endless golden energy cascaded into a shining river, pouring into the five reborn Shadow Ancient Gods. Their bodies gleamed as golden armor wrapped tightly around them.
The next moment—
Golden lightning blazed from the eyes of the Storm God.
The Knowledge God's gaze burst into strange, shifting symbols, imprinting themselves across reality. In an instant, the storm-lightning fractured into infinite golden particles, each particle reshaping itself—
—until they converged into a vast, radiant three-faced figure.
At that moment, the Mother Goddess spoke. Her strange, resonant chant echoed across the dimension, and the three-faced figure slowly opened its eyes.
The God of War's body dissolved into molten energy, reforming into a great scepter that fell into the figure's grasp.
Then Ulobas, the God of Deception, declared with a triumphant sneer:
"The great Living Tribunal has descended—to judge the murderer who brought endless Ragnarök…"
"Russell!"
But this was no true Living Tribunal.
This false Tribunal was forged from fragments of stolen divinity:
The flesh and blood of the Storm God,
The skeletal framework shaped from the Knowledge God,
The mind seeded by the Mother Goddess,
The raw strength of the War God,
And finally, the false spirituality and intent of Ulobas himself.
The instant its voice resounded, the lower dimensions—greater even than baseline reality itself—shook violently, trembling as if they would collapse beneath its presence.
From the distance, Ulobas's gaze burned with malice. His lips twisted into a grim smile.
Russell would certainly try to resist. But the Shadow barrier he had summoned was not so easily broken.
All of this—the chant, the fusion, the birth of a false Tribunal—felt as though it should take ages.
But in truth, from the moment Ulobas opened his mouth to the manifestation of the counterfeit Living Tribunal, only a few seconds had passed.
"Now… you lose!"
His confidence was absolute.
This was the fruit of his countless schemes—the culmination of ages. This was his greatest trump card, far beyond the reach of a mere newcomer who had only just ascended to the multiversal level.
The Living Tribunal raised its head. A piercing, virtual light ignited in its three eyes—then lanced forward, striking Russell in an instant.
Invisible power detonated, exploding outward. Cracks spread across Russell's body, brilliant white light spilling from within.
The destructive force was staggering.
Ulobas's eyes gleamed with satisfaction.
Yes. This was worthy of the Tribunal of Life.
He remembered—long ago, even the God of Knowledge had dared only to glimpse the true Tribunal. That single glance nearly destroyed him, leaving him grievously wounded for over a million years.
And now—even a counterfeit forged of false divinity could annihilate his enemy in moments!
Of course, a trump card was called such because it could not be played infinitely.
To deceive time… to deceive reality itself… required the expenditure of Original Divine Power, and ages to recover.
After invoking this false Tribunal, Ulobas knew it could not be done again for at least one hundred thousand years.
But the price was worth it.
Once he fully devoured the powers of Storm, Gaea, and the divine runes—once he unified the primal energies of the Aesir gods—then perhaps even he could glimpse what lay beyond the Multiverse.
A roar split the dimension.
The figure struck by the Tribunal's destructive might collapsed completely, shattering apart.
Had he succeeded?
The corners of Ulobas's mouth curled upward. Victory seemed certain.
But then—
That familiar voice rang out once more.
"It's a pity. I didn't create those miracles so they could revive and consume you. I created them… to buy time."
As Russell's words echoed, the shattered body dissolved into green phantoms, fading into nothingness.
And then—
From the shadows, a colossal pair of eyes blazed open.
Within those pupils burned endless galaxies, swirling stardust without end.
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