Grevor glared at Orson, his hands trembling, bloodlust radiating like a storm cloud.
“I said it—anyone who threatens me dies.”
Orson, still facing away from the group, replied coldly.
The thunderclouds above churned violently, forming what looked like a massive, pitch-black pupil seething with destructive fury.
Soon, crimson lightning began to ripple through the clouds. Flame Fosset and the others turned pale—they hadn’t expected Orson to go this far, dragging everyone down with him.
“My lord…” Veijander opened his mouth to speak.
Orson frowned and cut him off. “Shut it.”
Bound by the master-servant contract, Veijander could only grit his teeth and hold his tongue.
Grevor snapped, “Flame Fosset, this is your precious disciple? He’s trying to take us all to hell with him!”
Flame Fosset shrugged and sighed. “Told you—messing with him is like smashing your own foot with a brick. You insisted on cutting deals with Tulikiki. Not my fault.”
He gave a bitter smile, yawned, and sat casually on a patch of grass, giving up entirely.
Grevor turned his burning gaze on Glacier and Veijander. “The wrath of the Dragon God hasn’t fully descended yet. If we kill him now, we might avert total disaster.”
Glacier replied calmly, “I’ve already tasted the finest wine in Infinite Dimensions. Dying now wouldn’t be a waste.”
Veijander followed with a deadpan, “If my god wants me dead, then dead I shall be.”
Grevor was stunned. Everyone else had given up—and he was the only one still fighting fate.
“Go on, strike me dead!” Orson spread his arms to the sky, his voice cold yet amused.
Boom!
A thunderous rumble echoed as countless lightning bolts surged downward, converging mid-air.
“This lightning is massive… hundreds of meters wide—it’s like a tree made of lightning!”
“Shoutout to our VIP sponsor! This Forbidden Curse stream is lit—thanks for the superchat!”
The war correspondents watching from the sidelines were loving the chaos, eyes wide as the sky lit up with a terrifying spectacle.
Grevor glanced at his battered bronze cauldron and, with a grimace, roared, “Immortal Cauldron, shield us!”
The moment he spoke, the cauldron enlarged dozens of times, rusted body glowing with bursts of rainbow light.
Hearing his cry, Orson suddenly looked up, startled.
Despite its broken state, the cauldron emanated a natural, primordial aura.
It had once been a mighty three-legged relic—but now only one leg remained, its surface ravaged with sword and blade marks. A gaping crack nearly split it in two.
The bird and beast carvings etched into its surface were worn to near extinction.
In its current state, it looked more like a giant millstone than a divine artifact.
Orson scanned its attributes and murmured, “Cauldron of the Immortal Domain?”
Its info panel was bizarre—only a name, no rank, no effect, no backstory. Everything else was blank.
Maybe due to the damage.
“In weather like this, probably not a good time for sightseeing.”
Orson smirked and ducked beneath the cauldron, dragging the now-female Crimson Lizard King with him.
“You…”
Grevor nearly coughed up blood.
Just a moment ago, this bastard had been daring the Dragon God to strike—and now he was hiding beside him like a coward.
Flame Fosset cleared his throat. “Much appreciated, eldest disciple.”
Veijander bellowed, “This human brother’s got the same courage I had back in the day. I’m grateful!”
Glacier added coolly, “Thanks to the Light God’s Envoy. Truly a divine manifestation—brilliant.”
The three exchanged glances and immediately scrambled under the cauldron’s cover.
Grevor stood alone in the storm, eyes red, teeth clenched, on the verge of tears.
This bronze cauldron was his treasure. It was already falling apart—another hit could shatter it completely.
Clang!
Thunder struck the cauldron. Orson shivered, and everyone swallowed hard. Numbness spread through their bodies like electric frost.
Clang!
Another bolt hit. This time, a red lightning snake slipped through a crack, causing everyone’s hair to stand on end. Glacier and Flame Fosset coughed up blood, nearly blown outside the cauldron’s protection.
Worst of all was Grevor.
With the weakest attributes of the group and being the cauldron’s owner, he bore the brunt of Vortigon’s attack.
His arm, still clutching the cauldron, exploded into a mangled mess—raw flesh and bone exposed.
“Ugh!”
Grevor roared through clenched teeth, blood gushing from his mouth as he held on.
Clang!
Another strike incoming.
Orson looked through the cauldron’s cracks, frowning. “At least one more blast is coming…”
He glanced at Grevor’s nearly depleted HP and shot Veijander a look. “Use your Artifact to plug the crack!”
Veijander let out a deafening roar, surging with King-tier power. He raised the Thunderfire Hammer and jammed it into the largest gap.
A scream tore from his throat as the already-cracked handle exploded—but it blocked the worst of the Forbidden Curse’s power.
True Damage – 20,000,000!
True Damage – 12,000,000!
Electric current surged inside the cauldron, nearly roasting the group alive.
With a crash, the cauldron tipped over from the blast, rolling to the edge of a deep fissure in front of Orson.
“Under the effects of Forbidden Curse: Celestial Thunder Wrath, the Tiamat Bronze Cauldron has lost control.”
“Tiamat Bronze Cauldron is now ownerless!”
A prompt flashed before Orson’s eyes, and he could barely contain his glee.
No need to kill the guy to loot this… With the Forbidden Curse helping out, it’s practically a freebie!
“My cauldron!” Grevor screamed, his face twisted with panic. He instantly realized Orson’s true intent and bellowed, “You dare, mortal?!”
Grevor’s aura exploded.
Holy white light burst forth, and two pairs of flawless angelic wings unfurled from his back. In one hand he held a withered staff, in the other, a silver greatsword.
[True Form of the Light God’s Envoy: Four-Winged Archangel Jenonis (Soul Fusion)]
Level: 100
Tier: Demigod
HP: Unknown
ATK: Unknown
Skills: Unknown
Law of War Supreme: Unavailable
Soul Fusion Progress: 78% – Time Remaining: 60 Seconds
Orson’s pupils narrowed.
Those two words—Soul Fusion—made everything clear.
No wonder a chaotic heretic could pose as the Light God’s envoy. His dear senior brother had fused his soul with a legendary angel from the Church of Light, gaining dual personalities and forms.
Jenonis’ face was devoid of emotion. Both arms moved in unison—one launched a Chaos Magic Ball, the other summoned dozens of holy light spears from above.
“Angel, you wanna die that badly?!”
Flame Fosset’s face darkened. He didn’t seem surprised by Jenonis’ transformation at all.
He raised his staff and shouted, “Soar, Storm Eagle—Split the Chaos Sky!”
A green raptor burst forth, wings whipping up four razor-sharp wind blades that shredded the incoming Chaos Magic Ball.
“Angel… your reach has gone too far. It’s time to cut you down.”
Glacier spoke coldly, stomped once, and shot toward Jenonis like a cannonball.
Orson was surprised—these two old-timers clearly knew this was coming.
The Crimson Lizard King let out a furious roar, leaping skyward and morphing into its dragon form.
Dragon Curse: Blazing Meteor Shower!
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Fire meteors clashed with the holy light. But a demigod’s power was immense—light spears pierced through the meteors and kept coming for Orson.
Orson switched to the Chaos Swordsman class, using its high agility to leap through the air, gaining momentum toward the cauldron.
“There’s no problem that a meteor storm can’t solve. If there is—just throw another.”
His tone calm, Orson swapped back to Chaos Mage mid-air, aiming his arcane blade at the incoming holy spears.
“Dragon Curse: Blazing Meteor Shower!”
The incoming holy light was obliterated. Then Orson cast again.
“Wind God’s Sigh!”
He halted midair using the wind, and just as Jenonis rushed in, Orson grabbed the cauldron and stuffed it into his inventory.
“You have obtained…”