The moment Alex finished off Dren with the overwhelming might of [World Cleaver], silence filled the arena.
Two massive beams of golden light fell from the sky like judgment itself, erasing everything in their path.
Dren’s body, still split in half from the strike, disappeared into particles without resistance.
And as for the [God of Destruction], he didn’t even attempt to resist.
He stood still, arms crossed over his chest, four limbs folded in a gesture of grim acceptance.
His expression was calm, as if he had expected this all along.
A faint sigh left him before the light swallowed him whole.
Boom! Boom!
The arena trembled slightly as the aftershock of that divine energy faded, but no one spoke.
Every god and chosen one remaining stood frozen, watching the space where the two had been erased.
Their expressions were mixed, curiosity, suspicion, unease.
Because what they had just witnessed wasn’t something anyone could easily process.
That being, that winged entity with golden armor and a radiant sword that had appeared behind Alex, it was not normal.
Not even close.
Every divine being present had sensed it immediately.
The overwhelming aura, the celestial pressure, the sensation of something beyond.
It had cut down a creature tied directly to a god in a single, casual swing. It was invincible.
“It wasn’t a summon,” the [God of Death] murmured, his eyes narrowing as he turned to look at the Lich beside him, “That was a skill, a very dangerous one.”
Lich blinked once, then his eyes widened slightly.
“Oh… wow.”
For a moment, he was stunned, because this was the first time he had ever heard the [God of Death] say something like that.
A warning, a concern.
The [God of Death] had always been sure of victory.
His confidence was rooted in reality, he had no reason to ever doubt himself.
So for him to say something like that meant he had sensed something truly abnormal.
Lich turned his gaze to the young man in the center of the arena.
Alex stood there breathing heavily, arms still visibly broken from the earlier clash with the warhammer.
Yet despite the injuries, he hadn’t collapsed.
He hadn’t even flinched during the announcement. He remained steady, as if none of it mattered.
All the other gods and chosen ones looked on with interest, some whispering, some simply analyzing.
From what they had seen, Alex had only revealed two skills throughout the entire [Chosen Round].
First was [Bleeding Dragon Claws], a powerful close-combat ability that seemed to be his standard attack.
The second was the one that had shocked everyone, [World Cleaver].
They still didn’t know exactly what that skill was.
Was it an ultimate, a secret technique, or a hidden weapon disguised as a skill?
It didn’t matter.
What mattered was that it had erased both a chosen one and their god in a single, uncounterable attack.
The golden light above the arena pulsed again, and a new message formed above them all.
[The Chosen Round has officially ended. The five remaining gods have been selected.]
[Prepare for the next phase. The Main Round will begin after another “Grace” period.]
There was silence again.
The divine audience processed the message, understanding what it meant.
But right before they could all be teleported away, before the healing, the cooldown resets, the rest, Alex did something unexpected.
He shouted.
“HEY!”
His voice rang out through the entire arena.
It wasn’t just the others in the arena who heard him, his voice reached across Universal Descent itself.
To every spectator, every god, every realm in all twenty-five worlds watching the [Chosen Rounds].
Everyone turned their eyes toward him.
Alex stood tall, blood still dried on his clothes, his face cold, his posture straight.
But his eyes, they were burning.
Three distinct colors swirled in them like a violent storm, and the aura pouring from his body cracked the space around him.
He turned his gaze toward four figures in particular, the [God of Darkness], the [God of Death], the [Primordial Goddess], and the [God of Nightmares].
One by one, he locked eyes with each of them, making sure not only they, but their chosen ones, understood what was coming.
“I’ll fucking end all of you,” he growled, his voice cold and full of fury, “Even your remains won’t be found.”
Gasps echoed across every viewing chamber.
The gods narrowed their eyes. Their chosen ones stiffened.
And even Alex didn’t fully know why he had said that.
Logically, he knew it was a stupid move.
Provoking enemies this early was reckless, especially when there was still a whole round to go.
But it didn’t feel like a choice.
It was like the words had come from somewhere deep inside, pulled from a place that had been waiting to erupt.
Like his thoughts, his hate, his rage were no longer under his full control.
“Oh shit,” the [Hatred Demon] whispered from within his mind, “The hatred’s reaching max levels. You need to be careful.”
Alex didn’t respond, but he understood.
He could feel it now more than ever.
The more he fought, the more that violent, chaotic emotion inside him grew. Hatred.
Pure and overwhelming.
It was clouding his thoughts, making it harder and harder to distinguish between strategy and emotion.
‘If I fight again… it might fully take over,’ he thought, trying to stay calm, ‘And I might not be able to think straight, even with all my control.’
It was a double-edged sword.
The hatred gave him strength. He knew that.
It increased his power drastically and could even activate [Hatred’s Fury] under the right conditions.
But if it consumed him, if he lost himself to it, he wouldn’t be able to stop.
Still, despite that, a strange sense of clarity settled into him.
His broken arms, completely shattered from the warhammer strike, were suddenly healing. He looked down, surprised.
It wasn’t from the [Creators] giving everyone healing after the match, nor was it from his own regeneration ability through the [Blood Arts].
No, it was different. Crimson veins pulsed along his arms, glowing faintly as they reformed the bone and muscle.
It was hatred. Hatred itself was healing him.
‘So… that’s how the [Hatred Demon] survived so many of my attacks,’ Alex realized, ‘It wasn’t just defense… it was regeneration. Pure regeneration through hatred.’
Would the same happen to him? Would he also become something that couldn’t be killed unless struck in the heart?
He didn’t know yet. But it was something to remember.
And now with his arms fully healed, he raised one hand and pointed directly at Lich.
“Especially you,” he said darkly, “You and your god are going to die.”
Lich and the [God of Death] exchanged glances.
Even they were caught off guard. But Alex wasn’t done.
He turned, his gaze like a knife, and pointed at the [God of Darkness] next.
“And you,” he said, the words leaving his mouth like venom, “I will break every single bone in your body and make sure your death is as slow and painful as possible.”
Even he cringed slightly inside as he spoke.
He knew these words would only paint a target on his back, draw enemies toward him like vultures to a corpse.
But again, it was as if he wasn’t in full control of what he said.
As if his body was expressing everything his soul had been screaming all along.
Once the hatred inside him dimmed, he let out a long breath.
Calmness returned slowly.
[Well…] one of the [Creators] said, its voice echoing across the arena.
[Now that this little rant is over, we’ll teleport you all to your private rooms. You have one hour to rest before the “Main Round.”]
And with that, blue light shimmered beneath each participant’s feet, and in the blink of an eye, they vanished from the battlefield.
Alex found himself in a familiar stone chamber, a soft bed behind him, a large timer ticking on the wall.
Kaelios was there too, arms crossed, a grin forming on his face.
“What the hell was that at the end?” Kaelios asked with a raised eyebrow, “You probably just made things ten times worse for us. They’re all going to be focused on you now.”
Alex sat down quietly, staring at the floor.
Then he looked up and let out a small smirk.
“I just felt like it,” he muttered.
Kaelios shrugged.
“Fair enough.”
They both knew what was coming.
One hour of rest, and then it would begin.
The [Main Round].
Based on what the [Creators] had said, this next phase would narrow it down to only two surviving gods and chosen ones for the [Final Fight].
Meaning that three of the five remaining pairs would be erased.
“Well,” Kaelios said, stretching a little, “at least you didn’t reveal any of our real cards. You did well.”
“Yeah,” Alex nodded, “it was tough. We’ll have to do better next time. Might even have to use your domain right from the start.”
“It’s risky,” Kaelios admitted, “but depending on the rules, it might be necessary.”
Alex agreed.
“Once we know what they are, we move fast. The other four pairs… they’re monsters.”
“I felt it too.”
And with that, the two of them sat, sparred, and rested as the countdown continued.
[Time until Main Round: 39:48]
They didn’t speak much more after that.
They knew the end was coming.
And when the timer hit zero…
Everything would change.