On the main road through the Origin Realm's Outer City, the atmosphere had turned strange beyond belief.
Hundreds of thousands of players who had just completed the Divinity Baptism lined both sides.
They wore mismatched armor, some pieces even cracked, and dark blood still stained their weapons.
None of them had undergone proper formation training. They stood in crooked, ragged lines.
But every pair of eyes gleamed with greed.
"See that old guy with long red hair, third from the left? The green gem on his belt has to give at least a hundred thousand bonus mental power. Pry it off and put it up for sale, and we've got our potion money covered for half a month."
"You're thinking too small! Look at the fat old guy in the gold robe up front! The array patterns on his clothes are three grades above that Scavenger God Pantheon priest we just killed!"
"So we really can't attack today? My hands are itching."
The players made no attempt to keep their conversations quiet. They even shouted to drown one another out.
The Blood Fiend True God's red hair stirred without a breeze. Inside his boots, his toes gripped the soles.
He was the leader of the Blood Fiend Alliance, a tyrant who had lived for over a hundred thousand years. Yet these lower-realm natives, who had not even fully formed their Godheads, were treating him like a walking cash machine!
Under any other circumstances, he would have slapped this entire street into oblivion.
Now, though, he kept every trace of his Divine Might in check, terrified of causing the slightest misunderstanding.
Because the man walking ahead had just crushed a Void True God to death by some unknown means.
The Abyss Family's envoy walked beside the Blood Fiend True God, his