The Evil God of Other Worlds

"What exactly are you?" Xia Lun pointed his longsword at Death Praise.

The figure before him... didn't seem human in the slightest.

Death Praise bent down, picked up the severed hand from the ground, and reattached it as if the injuries inflicted by Xia Lun meant nothing to him.

A demon? But Xia Lun had never heard of a demonic race like this.

Could it be a powerful monster that had taken human form?

"Miss Ankula, are you alright?" Xia Lun shielded Ankula behind him—she was now a member of Dawn's Wings.

"I-I'm fine." Ankula wiped the blood from the corner of her eye, a searing pain burning through it. Fortunately, she hadn’t lost her sight, but her vision was clouded by a crimson haze, and her mind buzzed with a deafening noise.

She dared not look at Death Praise again. The moment she glimpsed the face beneath that hood, countless wails had echoed in her ears, and an onslaught of tormented souls had assaulted her consciousness.

"X-Xia Lun... Captain, are you okay? Did you see what that thing looks like?"

Xia Lun frowned. He, too, had seen the goat skull beneath Death Praise’s hood, but he felt no discomfort.

"Run. Gather the city’s people and evacuate them. I’ll handle this." Xia Lun’s voice was firm, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Facing this creature, he felt an overwhelming pressure—one even Aina had never instilled in him.

"Understood." Ankula didn’t hesitate. She turned and sprinted out of the cemetery.

She knew staying would only make her a burden... and she had witnessed Xia Lun slay a Crimson Dragon in an instant. She trusted him.

Death Praise made no move to stop her. Instead, he studied Xia Lun with keen interest.

"So... you're one of the two. One of the two who could pose even the slightest threat to me."

Death Praise’s skeletal goat face betrayed no expression, yet Xia Lun sensed a flicker of realization in him.

"When I entered this city, you seemed to catch my presence."

Xia Lun focused intently on Death Praise’s movements, not daring to let his guard down for even a second.

This thing... might be the strongest enemy he had ever faced in his life.

Taking a deep breath, Xia Lun began gathering his energy. The usually composed man now radiated a razor-sharp intensity.

Then, he moved.

In an instant, his figure split into nine, each striking from a different angle with lethal precision.

"Remarkable speed. And there’s something else... an unusual power within you."

Death Praise didn’t stand still to be cut down. As the nine sword strikes closed in, his form blurred—then vanished entirely. Xia Lun’s attacks met only air.

Death Praise reappeared behind him.

Xia Lun adjusted his stance mid-swing, pivoting with the momentum of his slash, his sword arcing back in a sweeping counterattack.

Clang—

This time, the blade struck Death Praise’s arm—but it didn’t sever. Instead, the impact rang out like metal against metal, the sword rebounding violently.

Xia Lun’s hand stung from the force. Even true blacksteel should have been cleaved in half by his strike.

Yet Death Praise’s withered arm had turned pitch-black, gleaming like polished metal, without so much as a scratch.

"What reflexes... Truly, an exceptional warrior." Death Praise’s voice brimmed with excitement. "I can already envision it—your death will bloom with a brilliance rivaling the setting sun... Would you consider serving under me? I promise your demise will be meaningful."

"I decline." Xia Lun’s reply was ice-cold.

He glanced at his sword. This blade had been looted from a labyrinth’s treasure chest, a rare artifact beyond market value... yet now, its edge bore a visible chip.

"Why... why do none of you understand the value of death?" Death Praise sighed.

"That twisted presence... Are you a malevolent god?" Xia Lun finally pieced it together.

"Malevolent god? Is that what you call us?" Death Praise paused briefly. "But then, we are beings from different worlds. Our perspectives will never align. To outsiders, even your so-called 'Goddess' is no different from us... We simply exist."

Xia Lun raised his sword. "Then why have you come to this world?"

Death Praise spread his arms. "One of your own summoned me. He sought eternal life... A laughable request. Had he called upon Sinking Years, that one might have obliged—though the cost would have been... unpredictable."

So the malevolent gods of other worlds knew one another.

And they knew of the Goddess as well. In truth, the Goddess was no different—just another supreme consciousness of her world.

Xia Lun exhaled deeply.

What a heretical truth... If he spoke of this to others, the Church would brand him the worst kind of blasphemer.

"Then, 'Malevolent God,' would you kindly return to where you came from?" Xia Lun’s voice was steel. "This world has no welcome for you."

Death Praise chuckled. "Unfortunately, I no longer have a world to return to... Still, I am grateful to the one who summoned me here. I made sure his death held meaning."

Xia Lun’s grip tightened.

Was he referring to the plague that had ravaged Olie City?

Countless families had been torn apart by that calamity.

And that was what he called "meaning"?

Truly, the logic of malevolent gods was beyond comprehension.

Then there was only one path left.

"Holy Sword."

A radiant light descended from the heavens, coalescing into a gleaming blade in Xia Lun’s hand.

"So... the power of the 'Goddess.' I see. You are her servant." Death Praise murmured.

Without another word, Xia Lun lunged, the Holy Sword cutting through the air like a streak of lightning.

This time, Death Praise didn’t dare block directly. His form flickered through the void, but Xia Lun pursued relentlessly.

If this thing escaped... who knew what horrors it would unleash next?

Soon, the two flashing figures left the cemetery behind.

Xia Lun’s expression darkened.

They now hovered above Olie City, its bustling streets sprawled beneath them.

A full-scale battle here... the collateral damage would be catastrophic.

Death Praise spread his arms wide.

"Here. A fitting stage."