Centennial

Diana's clear, sapphire-blue eyes glimmered with tears as she gave her husband a deep, aggrieved look, filled with anger at his lack of backbone. In the end, she could only shake her head and sigh. "You've truly disappointed me."

She had hoped Durandal would choose the ten-year deadline, gather his courage, and fight for her. At least then he would look somewhat like a man!

But this man had chosen the century-long deadline to guarantee himself a godhead. Although he now had more time, it also meant he had given up all claim to his wife.

What made her angriest was that Durandal had actually failed to see that Linley was setting a trap for him. Linley had done it entirely for her benefit, deliberately telling her that her husband lacked the courage to risk everything for her.

Durandal shook his head without saying anything.

In fact, he had vaguely guessed at the chief's scheme, but he couldn't help admiring it. The temptation of a godhead was simply too great, and it had completely shaken his resolve.

More importantly, he could tell that Diana's heart had long since drifted away. She had always been a woman who worshiped the strong, ever since childhood, and she had never grown used to the drop in status she experienced after coming to Hell. The fact that she had endured until now was entirely for the sake of her son, Arthur.

He couldn't hold on to this woman. He might as well give up early.

Thomas sent him a voice transmission. "Impressive, Linley. You really know how to play the game."

He had also seen that Linley had played a move that destroyed both his opponent's body and spirit. The only problem was that the price had been rather high.

Linley sent Thomas a voice transmission. "I think this Durandal is quite talented. His strength is just a little lacking."

Thomas asked in surprise through voice transmission, "No way. Do you really want to nurture him?"

Linley understood the deeper meaning behind his words. This was the hatred of having one's wife taken away. Although Diana herself did not resist, to Durandal there was no difference. No normal man could endure such humiliation.

Putting himself in Linley's shoes, Thomas knew he would definitely eradicate the threat at its roots, so he couldn't understand Linley's actions at all.

Linley sent another voice transmission. "It's fine. What potential or threat can a god who refined a godhead have? On the contrary, alchemy talents are scarce, and I'm somewhat interested in that field."

Thomas asked curiously, "Are you really so certain that he won't become a god within a hundred years?"

"From the moment he chose the century-long deadline, the outcome was already decided."

Through Linley's magnetic-field perception, he sensed the emotions radiating from Durandal: anger, despondency, regret, and repression. There was not the slightest trace of positive confidence or impulsiveness. For someone like that to become a god independently would be difficult even after ten thousand years.

With the special ability—Magnetic Field Control—no one's inner emotions could be hidden from Linley.

Take Diana's son, Arthur, for example. The emotions he radiated had gradually shifted from anger to indifference, with part of that anger even transferring onto Durandal. Even if Linley had been an idiot, he could still tell that the mother and father were no longer of one mind.

He hated his mother for betraying his father, but he hated his father even more for not being a lofty god-level powerhouse. These emotions accumulated in his heart and increasingly transformed into a thirst for strength.

Thomas sent a voice transmission, sounding both amazed and impressed. "I see. You really did think this through."

The potential of someone who refined a godhead was locked in place. Such a person could never threaten a genius like Linley.

Linley spoke calmly. "Go."

Thomas left with the father and son.

When Durandal and Arthur returned to their residence, they found their neighbors and the other bystanders looking at them with sympathy and astonishment. Some people pointed at them and secretly mocked them.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. That father and son actually made it back alive. They're really lucky."

"Exactly. I thought they were done for."

"The new chief is truly kind."

The news that the chief had taken a liking to Durandal's wife and Arthur's mother had already spread throughout the Tianlan Tribe.

Of the women selected previously, some had returned, while the rest had been taken into the chambers of god-level powerhouses. Most of those who had husbands had seen their husbands eliminated, while a small number had survived only because someone had pleaded for them.

Many people in the tribe were extremely cold and indifferent toward such matters. They neither cared nor disapproved, and some even gloated over them.

After all, women were a scarce resource. Unless one's strength was enough to intimidate most people, there would inevitably be countless suitors around one's wife, whether they wanted to replace the husband or simply seek temporary pleasure.

Durandal's expression was terrifyingly gloomy. His fierce, razor-sharp gaze swept across the surroundings, memorizing each bastard who wore a gleeful, mocking, or derisive expression. In his heart, he swore, Hmph. Just wait until you face the wrath of a future god-level powerhouse!

"Let's go. Ignore them."

Durandal spoke softly to Arthur, and the father and son returned home to cultivate in seclusion.

Day after day passed...

Time flew in Hell, and the Centennial Pact had arrived.

"Alas!"

Durandal sighed helplessly. His brows were weighed down by dejection, yet a trace of excitement and anticipation was mixed in as well.

Knock, knock!

Durandal heard the knocking and said, "Come in, Arthur."

The bedroom door opened, and a handsome young man with short, golden hair walked in. His face was filled with worry. "Father, will the chief really give you a godhead?"

"Perhaps."

Now that the time had come, Durandal answered with a trace of uncertainty instead.

Failing to become a god independently within the century-long deadline had completely ground down the last trace of his pride and confidence. In truth, after the tenth year, he had already begun fantasizing about refining a godhead and ascending to the heavens in a single step. This outcome could be considered something he had anticipated long ago.

"Hmm!"

Suddenly, Durandal's expression changed. He became ecstatic and said, "Yes, I'll be right there!"

He turned to Arthur and said, "Lord Thomas called out to me. He told me to go collect that godhead!"

Arthur was both shocked and delighted. He smiled and said, "Congratulations, Father. You're about to become a god-level powerhouse."

Durandal's entire heart was focused on the godhead. He hurried outside and saw Thomas waiting for him with a broad smile. He quickly bowed respectfully and addressed him, "Lord Thomas!"

"Brother Durandal, there's no need to be so reserved and polite. Once you refine the godhead, you'll also be a god-level powerhouse. We can get together and chat more often in the future."

Thomas's attitude had undergone a complete reversal. He had gone from aloof indifference to warm friendliness. Everything stemmed from the godhead. Someone with limited potential who could strengthen the tribe's foundation and serve as a friend who highlighted Thomas's own status was naturally welcome. No one would ever find too many such people.

Durandal felt extremely comfortable inside, but he remained courteous on the surface and did not let himself become conceited.

The two of them arrived together at the castle where Linley lived.

Linley sat upon the throne in the main hall. Standing beside him was a noble, elegant woman with golden hair that reached her waist. Her cold blue eyes gazed at the man kneeling with his head bowed. There was not a trace of her former feelings in them, only indifference, while a peacock-like arrogance colored her brows.

Diana felt extremely fortunate about her choice. There was no future at all with a man like Durandal. Over the years, her status had been exalted at Linley's side; even those few god-level powerhouses had to show her some respect, and she could secretly provide her son with some care.