War God's Provocation

Beirut was a fine actor. Standing from the perspective of an administrator, he gave a long-winded speech, spending most of his time talking about how great the Sovereigns were.

It was like a peddler selling melons, praising his own wares.

However, he provided absolutely no help regarding how to enter the Graveyard of the Gods, or how to obtain divine sparks, divine artifacts, or treasures.

This old man only holds a meeting once every thousand years; he must be bursting with pent-up energy, Olivier thought to himself. He knew that if one wanted to obtain a divine spark or a divine artifact, one had to rely on strength; there were no shortcuts.

He just hadn't expected Beirut to be so narcissistic.

"Alright, you may all leave. We set out tonight."

The God-level powerhouses who could summon wind and rain across the Yulan Continent were extremely reserved in front of Beirut. Beirut had been the one doing all the talking, and Olivier didn't dare say much, fearing he might accidentally let something slip and arouse Beirut's suspicion.

Upon hearing Beirut's words, the various God-level powerhouses felt as if they had been granted amnesty and left one after another.

The six God-level powerhouses descended before the metal castle.

The numerous Saint-level experts immediately approached respectfully to await orders.

"Some of you have been to the Graveyard of the Gods, while others have not. This time is different from the past, so I am giving you a serious warning," the kind-hearted High Priest said, just as he had in the original story.

He explained that this time they would be entering from the bottom of the South Sea, which was the most dangerous passage.

"Olivier, I admire you, I truly do. To become a god so quickly—aside from Lord Beirut, I, Cesar, have never admired anyone, but I have to admire you. I have cultivated for five thousand years, while you have only cultivated for how long?" Cesar said, pulling Olivier aside.

"Haha, I just broke through by accident." Olivier actually quite appreciated Cesar.

Cesar was a man who loved to enjoy life. Lazy, cool, and open-minded, he was well-suited to be a friend.

In previous openings of the Graveyard of the Gods, the several peak Saint-level powerhouses of the Yulan Continent would always participate, but Cesar wasn't that keen on obtaining a divine spark; he was quite confident in himself.

That was why he had been able to become the first person in five thousand years to become a god through his own efforts.

"Olivier, I also admire you. When I first met you, your strength was already far beyond that of a peak Saint-level powerhouse; you beat me until I had no power to fight back. If it weren't for you, I don't know when I would have been able to become a god. Thank you," Rutherford also said.

"Rutherford, we were only sparring. It was all thanks to your own efforts; there is no need for such courtesy." Using the same method, Fane hadn't broken through, but Rutherford had; this ultimately depended on the individual.

The few of them began to chat.

"Dylin, greetings." Olivier also greeted Dylin, considering them acquainted.

"Greetings!" Dylin was very eerie and cold.

Perhaps because he was a magical beast, he was arrogant by nature. He looked down on someone who had just become a god; one had to remember that back in his day, he had hunted down God-level experts to seize their divine sparks, which was why he had been imprisoned.

Olivier didn't bother to make a fool of himself; if you look down on me, I look down on you too.

Although Dylin had good talent, he was inferior compared to Taros.

Night fell.

Beirut appeared suddenly, like a ghost.

"Lord Beirut." Whether they were God-level or Saint-level, everyone spoke respectfully.

"Bebe, come here." Bebe, who was on Linley's shoulder, leaped directly into Beirut's arms.

Two old mice, Olivier thought to himself upon seeing this.

"Let's go."

At the command, the six God-level powerhouses and the eighty-plus human and magical beast Saint-level experts took flight.

They headed toward the South Sea to reach the Graveyard of the Gods through the Plane Gate.

For the first ten years after the Graveyard of the Gods opened, God-level powerhouses would not enter the trials.

Ten years.

That was a long time.

Olivier had only been in the Yulan Continent for a little over a decade since he transmigrated, and now he was looking at a ten-year stretch.

Rutherford and I aren't there, but Simba has been added, and Linley's strength seems to be a bit higher than in the original story. I wonder what the outcome will be for them, Olivier pondered.

"What is Olivier thinking about, looking so absorbed?" Catherine asked.

Catherine and Olivier were in the same group now, and the two often spoke, whereas the others, aside from Cesar, hardly said a word.

"Ah, it's nothing. I was just wondering how many of them will survive and whether they can obtain divine sparks," Olivier said.

"Hehe, you're worried about your pet Simba, aren't you?"

"I'd say it'll be good if even a third of them survive this time. I've heard from Saint-level experts who have come out before that the guardian creatures inside are extremely powerful, far stronger than the average peak Saint-level. Just staying alive will be an achievement. As for obtaining a divine spark, only one person has managed that in all these years, and that guy went straight to the Divine Realm after getting it," Catherine laughed.

She knew that while Olivier appeared cold, he was actually incapable of disregarding life, especially when it came to those he was close to.

"Haha, it would be a pity if so many Saint-level experts died," Olivier said.

"What's there to pity? If they die, they can only blame their own lack of strength," O'Brien suddenly interjected from the side, his tone somewhat hostile.

Olivier had always felt that O'Brien held some animosity toward him. He had sensed it occasionally since they first met; logically, he hadn't offended the man, so it shouldn't be this way.

With that remark clearly meant to pick a fight, Olivier found it difficult to respond.

"Olivier has only been cultivating for a short time, so it's only natural for him to feel this way," Catherine interjected, sensing that something was amiss and rushing to ease the tension.

Yet, the effect seemed to be the exact opposite.

"What has gotten into the War God?" The others clearly sensed that something was wrong as well.

"Haha, he must be jealous. I've seen this kind of thing plenty of times; it happens to ordinary people, but I never expected the War God to have such a moment, haha." Cesar, that fellow who lingered in the mortal world, immediately pointed out the reason.

His voice wasn't loud, but everyone present heard it.

Could it be that Catherine and O'Brien have a thing going on? There seemed to be some hints of that in the original work. But based on my understanding of Catherine, it's simply impossible. It seems this is just O'Brien's wishful thinking.

Olivier understood immediately; it seemed that was exactly the case, he thought to himself.

Originally, on the Yulan Continent, apart from Beirut and Hodan, there were only two god-level experts: Catherine and O'Brien, one man and one woman.

It was like being on a deserted island with only one man and one woman; food and drink were not an issue, but they didn't know when they would be rescued. If the man had no designs on the woman, he could only be a eunuch or a lover of men.

When O'Brien first broke through to the god-level, he challenged Catherine under the slogan of unifying the Yulan Continent. If Catherine had been defeated, he would have taken the opportunity to make her his trophy wife.

"Catherine, I intend to unify the Yulan Continent. You cannot stop me. As long as you agree, we can share the faith of the continent. How about it?" Five thousand years ago, O'Brien had said to Catherine, full of high spirits.

But the result was that he, a god-level expert who had broken through by relying on a godspark, was simply no match for Catherine.