Chapter 180: Scattered as Stars Across the Sky [Two-in-One]
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Chapter 180: Scattered as Stars Across the Sky [Two-in-One]
In the Underworld·Glazed Mountain, within the God of Death's grand hall where the eternal Soul Fire burned, the God of Death descended from his divine throne in a fit of rage, pacing restlessly across the vast chamber.
The hall was eerily silent and empty.
The siege by the Four Pillar Gods had forced the God of Death to mobilize nearly all the forces at his disposal.
Thankfully, he had created the Dark Web—otherwise, coordinating such an extensive front would have been a monumental challenge.
Yet even so, his situation remained precarious.
The Fifth Calamity was vast, but when stretched thin across endless battle lines, even the largest numbers became insufficient, even strained to the breaking point.
He had been forced to abandon preaching zones of lesser value.
As if misfortunes never came singly!
While the front lines struggled, the battle for the network in the rear suffered a devastating blow.
First, the Internet God introduced the soul-projection mode, leveling the playing field.
Then came the Faction System, shoring up the Fourth Calamity’s weaknesses and preventing player attrition.
Now, in one fell swoop, updates had rolled out—photography, video functionality, even grand e-commerce.
The impact on the Dark Web was nothing short of fatal!
Ordinary users might not notice, but the God of Death could already see it in the plummeting efficiency of his Source Essence absorption.
Deserves to die!
Furious, the God of Death stormed back and forth. Whatever the Internet had, the Dark Web must have too—and quickly!
Photography and video were manageable. Souls inherently possessed the ability to record images—the core principle behind the Magic spell "mage's eye" was precisely this recording capability.
With specialized divine techniques, he could replicate the effects of the mage's eye.
Of course, limited by the user’s Soul Power, this version wouldn’t match the original’s long-range surveillance, but that aligned perfectly with the Internet’s own recording limitations.
And the Internet had external playback functionality? The Dark Web must have it too—this, too, could be simulated through soul projection.
The real problem was the grand e-commerce. How could he copy that?
This wasn’t virtual data that could be duplicated with a flick of the wrist.
The flagship products of the Interconnected Grand E-commerce—bicycles, firearms, seeds, airships—were almost exclusively produced by the Keville Empire.
These physical industries couldn’t be replicated overnight.
Of course, he had something the Internet God didn’t—the undead!
He could easily market the undead as commodities—an inexhaustible supply of alternative slaves.
Beyond that, the Underworld also boasted unique resources unavailable in other domains.
Though this might not rival the Interconnected Grand E-commerce, maintaining a niche of "what others lack" would prevent the Internet from fully replacing the Dark Web.
Moreover, the Internet’s relentless updates made the God of Death realize the Dark Web’s untapped potential.
The battle between them was one of content.
If he could devise something the Internet God couldn’t replicate, he might just steal the market back.
The thought only fueled his rage.
Why did the Internet God get to develop in peace while he was mired in endless war?
This damned war had to end—now.
And if it couldn’t… then he’d drag the Internet God down with him.
Thousands of years of existence had endowed the God of Death with profound experience. Though the rules of the game had drastically changed in the Interconnected Era, he had keenly realized his own miscalculations and resolved to find a way to halt them.
After deep contemplation, he settled back onto his divine throne and closed his eyes.
The next moment, his primary consciousness descended upon the solitary stone palace in the Cordillera Mountains.
As the statue of the God of Death stirred to life and opened its eyes, the other Death Gods sensed something almost simultaneously, manifesting within their own stone effigies and awakening as well.
In an instant, the gazes of the four gods converged upon the God of Death.
Though they were currently locked in a life-and-death war, an eerie restraint filled the air, their expressions unreadable.
The God of Death swept a cold glance over his former allies—now enemies—and spoke:
“There’s one thing I’ve always been curious about. What did the Internet God offer to convince you to attack me? Wouldn’t it have been better to strike when we were both weakened?”
The four gods exchanged glances. The God of War, clad in armor, lifted his chin defiantly. “Spit it out if you’ve got something to say. Do you really think we’d tell you?”
The God of Death fixed the God of War with a frigid stare, his tone grave. “I’m not surprised you joined forces to besiege me. What I don’t understand is why you’re standing by, watching the Internet God grow unchecked.”
“Pfft…” The God of Life, appearing as an elderly man, scoffed. “What a pathetic attempt at sowing discord!”
“No need to rush,” the God of War said, smirking triumphantly. “Once we’ve torn through the Underworld, we’ll deal with the Internet God soon enough.”
The God of Death’s words clearly betrayed his struggle against their assault, and the God of War couldn’t help but revel in it.
“Hmph. By then, the Internet God will have grown powerful enough to swallow you whole!” the God of Death sneered.
“That’s precisely why he’s smarter than you,” the Earth Mother Goddess, exuding mature allure, chuckled. “He never took advantage to expand his preaching zones. Even if Keville is a mere speck, and even with the Dofi domain and Magic Towers sprouting everywhere, crushing him will be child’s play once we’re free.”
Vast territories came with vast advantages.
Beyond resources and population, sheer strategic depth ensured resilience against threats.
Of course, vast territories also had their downsides.
Extended borders demanded immense resources to defend—something only the well-established could sustain.
Clearly, the Internet God’s limited territory meant minimal strategic depth. Coupled with the finite numbers of the Fourth Calamity, his threat level paled in comparison to the God of Death.
This was one of the key reasons the four gods had spared the Internet God to focus on besieging the God of Death.
“And what if he’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing? Have you forgotten about the Azure Star?” the God of Death snapped. “Look at bicycles, firearms, airships—none of these existed in the multiverse before!”
His words plunged the stone palace into silence.
The “Azure Star” mentioned in the Internet God’s prayer leaflets had always been an unfathomable enigma to the gods of the multiverse.
In truth, as the Internet God unveiled more and more “industrial creations,” the growing consensus was that the Azure Star—his place of origin—was a world yet undiscovered by the gods.
This was entirely plausible.
After all, how vast was the multiverse?
Each domain is like a bubble, floating in the vast expanse of the dimensional Void. The currently known multiverse is merely the collection of discovered bubbles.
Beyond the multiverse, are there other domains?
The answer is undoubtedly yes.
In the multiverse, there are always gods who, after suffering defeat in competition, are forced to wander far from home, pioneering in solitude.
Just as the Music Goddess discovered the Dofi domain.
Thus, the gods have reason to believe that the Internet God hails from an undiscovered domain.
It might be a small domain, incapable of nurturing high-level combatants, which is why the Internet God has never mobilized troops.
Of course, the Azure Star could also be a massive Primary Domain, for only such a domain, with its vast resources and population, could give rise to such miraculous industrial power.
The Internet God’s refusal to deploy forces could be a feint of weakness, a deception—or perhaps a precaution to prevent subordinates from being captured and revealing its coordinates.
If the Azure Star were merely a small or medium domain, it wouldn’t matter. But if it were a large Primary Domain, that would be terrible news for the Four Pillar Gods.
The Four Pillar Gods had considered this possibility before.
However, the God of Death’s overwhelming strength, combined with the Internet God’s strategic bluffing, forced them to prioritize the God of Death as their first target, aiming to strangle him in his cradle.
Now, reminded by the God of Death, suspicion once again stirs in their hearts.
Amidst the four gods’ doubts, the God of Death tempts them with a smirk:
"Why don’t we join forces to eliminate the Internet God first, then settle our own scores?"
……
……
And it wasn’t just the Five Great Righteous Gods who harbored suspicions about the Azure Star.
Azerai · Deep Sea Islands.
Coconut trees, white sand, sun umbrellas, palm-thatched roofs, and snow-white walls.
In what should have been a lazily idyllic beachside courtyard, tension hung thick in the air.
"Hmph, after uncovering new abilities over thousands of years, your damned ambition is stirring again? Don’t forget—we are a whole! If any one of us leaves, Azerai will cease to exist! Do you think withholding Azerai’s forces will protect it? No! It will only expose us completely!"
The Storm Lord—a bearded man in his thirties, draped in a soft cloak, his temper as volatile as the seas—slammed the table, his words laced with veiled accusations.
His gaze swept meaningfully over the three before him.
"Hmph, for all we know, you could be the Internet God yourself! What a clever ruse—this ‘Azure Star’! What a perfect smokescreen!"
The Space God—ethereal in demeanor, handsome, appearing no older than twenty—sneered with biting sarcasm.
After all, the Storm Lord ruled the seas, and his prayer leaflets invoked the Azure Star. Wasn’t that a little too fitting?
"Bullshit!"
The Storm Lord exploded in rage. The sky darkened instantly, churning black clouds gathering overhead as if ready to unleash a world-shattering bolt of lightning—one aimed squarely at the Space God’s pretty face.
Around the square table sat four gods—none other than the Four Primordial Gods of Azerai!
Like the Five Great Righteous Gods, they too were discussing the Internet God and the enigma of the Azure Star.
Though they secluded themselves in the Primary Domain of Azerai, detached from worldly affairs, they had always kept a watchful eye on the multiverse.
The rise of the Internet God, and the sudden emergence of his industrial power, had left them both shocked and furious!
They believe the Internet God is most likely one of them.
Or rather, the probability is very high!
Hailing from the "Azure Star," wielding "industrial power," yet never drawing forces from it—these three points alone speak volumes.
"Enough!" the Mechanical Steam God snapped. "This Internet God might just be an Outer God who stumbled here by accident. Until we clarify the situation, vigilance is warranted, but we must not overreact!"
The Night Goddess, the only female among the Four Primordial Gods, wore a black dress, her expression troubled:
"For millennia, Vilia has been shrouded in secrecy. Outer Gods couldn’t possibly discover it! Unless randomly teleported in, but the odds are vanishingly low. Still, it’s not impossible. If the Internet God is an Outer God, Vilia may be in grave danger."
"Has Vilia detected any traces of him?" the Space God asked.
"No. I’ve marked most machinery and found no leaks. Presumably, the Internet God completed his transfers beforehand—or he’s deeply knowledgeable about machinery," the Mechanical Steam God shook his head.
"The Empire of Infer is in constant turmoil. Could the Internet God be behind it?" The Storm Lord narrowed his eyes.
"I’ve been tracking Aji De’s whereabouts without success. His involvement is highly suspect!" the Mechanical Steam God declared.
"The Reduction of Working Hours and Increase in Wages Movement shows no external influence—it might just be coincidence! Meanwhile, Atlant has been pushing for independence, and a faction with sea monster bloodline forces has emerged there. That’s worth noting. Perhaps the bloodline is just a cover!"
"That reminds me—a Sea God Cult worshipping sea monsters has appeared along the southern coast of the Western Continent. It might well be the Internet God’s scheme!"
The longer the Four Primordial Gods discussed, the darker their expressions grew.
Once suspicion took root, everything seemed like a conspiracy.
Suddenly, the familiar Vilia felt shrouded in mist.
The multiverse had plunged into unprecedented turmoil due to the internet’s emergence.
Who could have imagined that even reclusive Vilia would be entangled in crisis because of it?
"For now, we can only adapt as circumstances demand."
"So be it."
The Four Primordial Gods sighed, their gazes still laced with mutual distrust.
……
……
Yu Sheng’an didn’t receive the Dark Web’s update—instead, he was visited by the Four Pillar Gods.
Before their arrival, he had been organizing materials on "infinite energy storage."
Such wild fantasies were hardly new in magical history. Theories and blueprints abounded.
Yet, regrettably, no one had ever succeeded.
Still, Yu Sheng’an decided to collect these ideas, planning to use the Prophecy Godhood to simulate them one by one.
Some seemingly insane notions might just hold the truth.
That’s science—bold hypotheses, careful verification.
As he sorted the documents, the four gods appeared outside Willis City.
With ample Source Essence at his disposal, Yu Sheng’an mechanically scanned Willis every few seconds to prevent intrusions.
What lay within was far too important.
To be honest, if he hadn't completely lost trust in his subordinates, he would have considered moving these assets to the Dofi domain, leveraging the characteristics of a small domain to block high-tier forces from invading.
However, keeping them in a small domain, while limiting enemies, would also restrict himself.
In this multiverse, no one could guarantee they understood all forms of power.
What if some unorthodox faction skilled in "door-opening" techniques suddenly appeared, tunneling straight into his stronghold and making off with all his wealth?
Thus, keeping everything under his own watch was far more reassuring.
At the very least, before the Source Essence was exhausted, he was confident in protecting the assets in Willis City!
At this moment, outside Willis City, though the fertile land within a hundred miles had been devastated by the God of Death's siege, the liquefied terrain had reshaped the surroundings into a small plain.
Under the mages' forceful reconstruction, the area had already transformed into neatly divided, aesthetically pleasing farmland.
By the edge of this boundless farmland, four figures stood at a magically leveled crossroads, silently observing the surrounding layout.
Then, watching the bicycles coming and going along the magic-paved roads, the shock they felt was something only they could truly comprehend.
No wonder the Keville Empire not only achieved self-sufficiency in food but could even export it—seeing a glimpse was enough to grasp the whole picture!
"Are you four here for research? If you're interested in agricultural cultivation, I can provide you with seeds—even professional agricultural consultants."
A voice suddenly rang out as Yu Sheng'an stepped out of a portal with a smile.
"Food is the foundation of Source Essence. I don’t believe you’d be so generous," the God of Life deliberately replied with a hint of mockery.
"Believe it or not, I’ve always maintained an open and free attitude. It’s just that people in this world are so accustomed to endless conflict that they can’t comprehend the concept of mutual benefit."
Yu Sheng'an spread his hands, his expression helpless.
"Oh? Then would you be willing to sell me these seeds?" the God of Life pressed.
"Why ask me again? You’ve already bought plenty on the Interconnected Grand E-commerce platform, haven’t you?"
The moment Yu Sheng'an said this, the God of Life’s expression froze. "Those seeds… are the same as these?"
Yu Sheng'an shook his head in exasperation, no longer bothering to explain.
The seeds listed on the Interconnected Grand E-commerce by the Magic Forest weren’t some outdated generation.
On the contrary, many of them performed even better than Keville’s.
Of course, those seeds were rather extreme—some demanded extremely high soil fertility, severely depleting the land’s nutrients… and so on.
Speaking of which, should the low-price food strategy still be implemented?
Of course it should!
However, selling seeds and the low-price food strategy weren’t mutually exclusive.
Seeds could also dismantle other nations’ self-sufficient food systems. Once they grew accustomed to high-yield crops, they would inevitably become dependent on his seeds.
This achieved the same effect as the low-price food strategy.
Beyond that, the low-price food strategy relied not just on superior seeds but, more importantly, on the cost reduction from large-scale mechanized farming.
And most crucially—the Empire’s unified policy of purchasing at high prices and selling at low ones.
This required the Empire to "selflessly" subsidize agriculture with profits from other sectors—something few nobles across the multiverse would ever consider doing.
Only Yu Sheng'an could truly grasp the logic behind it.
Driving labor into factories to exploit their efficiency, rapidly amassing enormous profits, then using a fraction of those profits to subsidize agriculture—ensuring self-sufficiency while gradually undermining other nations' agricultural independence—is flawless logic.
"Now isn’t the time to discuss seeds. Doesn’t the Internet God intend to invite us inside?" Mother Earth said with a smile.
"Seems you have business with me? Fine, I’ll take you somewhere nice."
As Yu Sheng'an spoke, a portal bloomed beneath his feet, swiftly spreading to the four gods. In the blink of an eye, the five vanished from the vast fields.
The next moment, they appeared in a pristine, well-lit lounge. A sofa and square table stood inside, while outside the window, rolling clouds stretched endlessly. They had materialized inside an airship cabin. Peering through the window, they could even see Willis City, now reduced to the size of a tiny block in the distance.
"I’ve checked—there are over three thousand buyers applying to purchase airships, many of whom are your people, aren’t they?"
Yu Sheng'an crossed his legs as he settled onto the sofa. With a wave of his hand, a cabinet door slid open, and a bottle of wine along with glasses floated over.
"Don’t worry, I’m genuinely willing to sell airships. But production capacity can’t keep up, so… we’ll have to draw lots. My apologies."
He poured wine as he explained.
The God of War watched Yu Sheng'an’s casual demeanor, and fury suddenly flared within him.
"Bang!"
He slammed his hands on the table, leaning over to glare down at Yu Sheng'an.
"Seems you’re living quite comfortably, aren’t you? You know what? The God of Death approached us, proposing an alliance to attack Keville. I think it’s a fine idea. What do you say?"
Yu Sheng'an paused briefly in pouring the wine—then resumed as if nothing had happened. Only after filling all five glasses did he pick one up, take a sip, and reply with utter indifference:
"I think it’s a great idea! After taking Keville, you can focus on settling your own rivalries. As for me, I’ll be generous—I’ll scatter Dragon Factories across the world. Then everyone can manufacture firearms and airships, trading them freely. Sounds perfect to me."
"Whether united or scattered, it makes no difference to me. What do you think?"
The moment the words left his mouth, the God of War’s expression froze.
In the Underworld·Glazed Mountain, within the God of Death's grand hall where the eternal Soul Fire burned, the God of Death descended from his divine throne in a fit of rage, pacing restlessly across the vast chamber.
The hall was eerily silent and empty.
The siege by the Four Pillar Gods had forced the God of Death to mobilize nearly all the forces at his disposal.
Thankfully, he had created the Dark Web—otherwise, coordinating such an extensive front would have been a monumental challenge.
Yet even so, his situation remained precarious.
The Fifth Calamity was vast, but when stretched thin across endless battle lines, even the largest numbers became insufficient, even strained to the breaking point.
He had been forced to abandon preaching zones of lesser value.
As if misfortunes never came singly!
While the front lines struggled, the battle for the network in the rear suffered a devastating blow.
First, the Internet God introduced the soul-projection mode, leveling the playing field.
Then came the Faction System, shoring up the Fourth Calamity’s weaknesses and preventing player attrition.
Now, in one fell swoop, updates had rolled out—photography, video functionality, even grand e-commerce.
The impact on the Dark Web was nothing short of fatal!
Ordinary users might not notice, but the God of Death could already see it in the plummeting efficiency of his Source Essence absorption.
Deserves to die!
Furious, the God of Death stormed back and forth. Whatever the Internet had, the Dark Web must have too—and quickly!
Photography and video were manageable. Souls inherently possessed the ability to record images—the core principle behind the Magic spell "mage's eye" was precisely this recording capability.
With specialized divine techniques, he could replicate the effects of the mage's eye.
Of course, limited by the user’s Soul Power, this version wouldn’t match the original’s long-range surveillance, but that aligned perfectly with the Internet’s own recording limitations.
And the Internet had external playback functionality? The Dark Web must have it too—this, too, could be simulated through soul projection.
The real problem was the grand e-commerce. How could he copy that?
This wasn’t virtual data that could be duplicated with a flick of the wrist.
The flagship products of the Interconnected Grand E-commerce—bicycles, firearms, seeds, airships—were almost exclusively produced by the Keville Empire.
These physical industries couldn’t be replicated overnight.
Of course, he had something the Internet God didn’t—the undead!
He could easily market the undead as commodities—an inexhaustible supply of alternative slaves.
Beyond that, the Underworld also boasted unique resources unavailable in other domains.
Though this might not rival the Interconnected Grand E-commerce, maintaining a niche of "what others lack" would prevent the Internet from fully replacing the Dark Web.
Moreover, the Internet’s relentless updates made the God of Death realize the Dark Web’s untapped potential.
The battle between them was one of content.
If he could devise something the Internet God couldn’t replicate, he might just steal the market back.
The thought only fueled his rage.
Why did the Internet God get to develop in peace while he was mired in endless war?
This damned war had to end—now.
And if it couldn’t… then he’d drag the Internet God down with him.
Thousands of years of existence had endowed the God of Death with profound experience. Though the rules of the game had drastically changed in the Interconnected Era, he had keenly realized his own miscalculations and resolved to find a way to halt them.
After deep contemplation, he settled back onto his divine throne and closed his eyes.
The next moment, his primary consciousness descended upon the solitary stone palace in the Cordillera Mountains.
As the statue of the God of Death stirred to life and opened its eyes, the other Death Gods sensed something almost simultaneously, manifesting within their own stone effigies and awakening as well.
In an instant, the gazes of the four gods converged upon the God of Death.
Though they were currently locked in a life-and-death war, an eerie restraint filled the air, their expressions unreadable.
The God of Death swept a cold glance over his former allies—now enemies—and spoke:
“There’s one thing I’ve always been curious about. What did the Internet God offer to convince you to attack me? Wouldn’t it have been better to strike when we were both weakened?”
The four gods exchanged glances. The God of War, clad in armor, lifted his chin defiantly. “Spit it out if you’ve got something to say. Do you really think we’d tell you?”
The God of Death fixed the God of War with a frigid stare, his tone grave. “I’m not surprised you joined forces to besiege me. What I don’t understand is why you’re standing by, watching the Internet God grow unchecked.”
“Pfft…” The God of Life, appearing as an elderly man, scoffed. “What a pathetic attempt at sowing discord!”
“No need to rush,” the God of War said, smirking triumphantly. “Once we’ve torn through the Underworld, we’ll deal with the Internet God soon enough.”
The God of Death’s words clearly betrayed his struggle against their assault, and the God of War couldn’t help but revel in it.
“Hmph. By then, the Internet God will have grown powerful enough to swallow you whole!” the God of Death sneered.
“That’s precisely why he’s smarter than you,” the Earth Mother Goddess, exuding mature allure, chuckled. “He never took advantage to expand his preaching zones. Even if Keville is a mere speck, and even with the Dofi domain and Magic Towers sprouting everywhere, crushing him will be child’s play once we’re free.”
Vast territories came with vast advantages.
Beyond resources and population, sheer strategic depth ensured resilience against threats.
Of course, vast territories also had their downsides.
Extended borders demanded immense resources to defend—something only the well-established could sustain.
Clearly, the Internet God’s limited territory meant minimal strategic depth. Coupled with the finite numbers of the Fourth Calamity, his threat level paled in comparison to the God of Death.
This was one of the key reasons the four gods had spared the Internet God to focus on besieging the God of Death.
“And what if he’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing? Have you forgotten about the Azure Star?” the God of Death snapped. “Look at bicycles, firearms, airships—none of these existed in the multiverse before!”
His words plunged the stone palace into silence.
The “Azure Star” mentioned in the Internet God’s prayer leaflets had always been an unfathomable enigma to the gods of the multiverse.
In truth, as the Internet God unveiled more and more “industrial creations,” the growing consensus was that the Azure Star—his place of origin—was a world yet undiscovered by the gods.
This was entirely plausible.
After all, how vast was the multiverse?
Each domain is like a bubble, floating in the vast expanse of the dimensional Void. The currently known multiverse is merely the collection of discovered bubbles.
Beyond the multiverse, are there other domains?
The answer is undoubtedly yes.
In the multiverse, there are always gods who, after suffering defeat in competition, are forced to wander far from home, pioneering in solitude.
Just as the Music Goddess discovered the Dofi domain.
Thus, the gods have reason to believe that the Internet God hails from an undiscovered domain.
It might be a small domain, incapable of nurturing high-level combatants, which is why the Internet God has never mobilized troops.
Of course, the Azure Star could also be a massive Primary Domain, for only such a domain, with its vast resources and population, could give rise to such miraculous industrial power.
The Internet God’s refusal to deploy forces could be a feint of weakness, a deception—or perhaps a precaution to prevent subordinates from being captured and revealing its coordinates.
If the Azure Star were merely a small or medium domain, it wouldn’t matter. But if it were a large Primary Domain, that would be terrible news for the Four Pillar Gods.
The Four Pillar Gods had considered this possibility before.
However, the God of Death’s overwhelming strength, combined with the Internet God’s strategic bluffing, forced them to prioritize the God of Death as their first target, aiming to strangle him in his cradle.
Now, reminded by the God of Death, suspicion once again stirs in their hearts.
Amidst the four gods’ doubts, the God of Death tempts them with a smirk:
"Why don’t we join forces to eliminate the Internet God first, then settle our own scores?"
……
……
And it wasn’t just the Five Great Righteous Gods who harbored suspicions about the Azure Star.
Azerai · Deep Sea Islands.
Coconut trees, white sand, sun umbrellas, palm-thatched roofs, and snow-white walls.
In what should have been a lazily idyllic beachside courtyard, tension hung thick in the air.
"Hmph, after uncovering new abilities over thousands of years, your damned ambition is stirring again? Don’t forget—we are a whole! If any one of us leaves, Azerai will cease to exist! Do you think withholding Azerai’s forces will protect it? No! It will only expose us completely!"
The Storm Lord—a bearded man in his thirties, draped in a soft cloak, his temper as volatile as the seas—slammed the table, his words laced with veiled accusations.
His gaze swept meaningfully over the three before him.
"Hmph, for all we know, you could be the Internet God yourself! What a clever ruse—this ‘Azure Star’! What a perfect smokescreen!"
The Space God—ethereal in demeanor, handsome, appearing no older than twenty—sneered with biting sarcasm.
After all, the Storm Lord ruled the seas, and his prayer leaflets invoked the Azure Star. Wasn’t that a little too fitting?
"Bullshit!"
The Storm Lord exploded in rage. The sky darkened instantly, churning black clouds gathering overhead as if ready to unleash a world-shattering bolt of lightning—one aimed squarely at the Space God’s pretty face.
Around the square table sat four gods—none other than the Four Primordial Gods of Azerai!
Like the Five Great Righteous Gods, they too were discussing the Internet God and the enigma of the Azure Star.
Though they secluded themselves in the Primary Domain of Azerai, detached from worldly affairs, they had always kept a watchful eye on the multiverse.
The rise of the Internet God, and the sudden emergence of his industrial power, had left them both shocked and furious!
They believe the Internet God is most likely one of them.
Or rather, the probability is very high!
Hailing from the "Azure Star," wielding "industrial power," yet never drawing forces from it—these three points alone speak volumes.
"Enough!" the Mechanical Steam God snapped. "This Internet God might just be an Outer God who stumbled here by accident. Until we clarify the situation, vigilance is warranted, but we must not overreact!"
The Night Goddess, the only female among the Four Primordial Gods, wore a black dress, her expression troubled:
"For millennia, Vilia has been shrouded in secrecy. Outer Gods couldn’t possibly discover it! Unless randomly teleported in, but the odds are vanishingly low. Still, it’s not impossible. If the Internet God is an Outer God, Vilia may be in grave danger."
"Has Vilia detected any traces of him?" the Space God asked.
"No. I’ve marked most machinery and found no leaks. Presumably, the Internet God completed his transfers beforehand—or he’s deeply knowledgeable about machinery," the Mechanical Steam God shook his head.
"The Empire of Infer is in constant turmoil. Could the Internet God be behind it?" The Storm Lord narrowed his eyes.
"I’ve been tracking Aji De’s whereabouts without success. His involvement is highly suspect!" the Mechanical Steam God declared.
"The Reduction of Working Hours and Increase in Wages Movement shows no external influence—it might just be coincidence! Meanwhile, Atlant has been pushing for independence, and a faction with sea monster bloodline forces has emerged there. That’s worth noting. Perhaps the bloodline is just a cover!"
"That reminds me—a Sea God Cult worshipping sea monsters has appeared along the southern coast of the Western Continent. It might well be the Internet God’s scheme!"
The longer the Four Primordial Gods discussed, the darker their expressions grew.
Once suspicion took root, everything seemed like a conspiracy.
Suddenly, the familiar Vilia felt shrouded in mist.
The multiverse had plunged into unprecedented turmoil due to the internet’s emergence.
Who could have imagined that even reclusive Vilia would be entangled in crisis because of it?
"For now, we can only adapt as circumstances demand."
"So be it."
The Four Primordial Gods sighed, their gazes still laced with mutual distrust.
……
……
Yu Sheng’an didn’t receive the Dark Web’s update—instead, he was visited by the Four Pillar Gods.
Before their arrival, he had been organizing materials on "infinite energy storage."
Such wild fantasies were hardly new in magical history. Theories and blueprints abounded.
Yet, regrettably, no one had ever succeeded.
Still, Yu Sheng’an decided to collect these ideas, planning to use the Prophecy Godhood to simulate them one by one.
Some seemingly insane notions might just hold the truth.
That’s science—bold hypotheses, careful verification.
As he sorted the documents, the four gods appeared outside Willis City.
With ample Source Essence at his disposal, Yu Sheng’an mechanically scanned Willis every few seconds to prevent intrusions.
What lay within was far too important.
To be honest, if he hadn't completely lost trust in his subordinates, he would have considered moving these assets to the Dofi domain, leveraging the characteristics of a small domain to block high-tier forces from invading.
However, keeping them in a small domain, while limiting enemies, would also restrict himself.
In this multiverse, no one could guarantee they understood all forms of power.
What if some unorthodox faction skilled in "door-opening" techniques suddenly appeared, tunneling straight into his stronghold and making off with all his wealth?
Thus, keeping everything under his own watch was far more reassuring.
At the very least, before the Source Essence was exhausted, he was confident in protecting the assets in Willis City!
At this moment, outside Willis City, though the fertile land within a hundred miles had been devastated by the God of Death's siege, the liquefied terrain had reshaped the surroundings into a small plain.
Under the mages' forceful reconstruction, the area had already transformed into neatly divided, aesthetically pleasing farmland.
By the edge of this boundless farmland, four figures stood at a magically leveled crossroads, silently observing the surrounding layout.
Then, watching the bicycles coming and going along the magic-paved roads, the shock they felt was something only they could truly comprehend.
No wonder the Keville Empire not only achieved self-sufficiency in food but could even export it—seeing a glimpse was enough to grasp the whole picture!
"Are you four here for research? If you're interested in agricultural cultivation, I can provide you with seeds—even professional agricultural consultants."
A voice suddenly rang out as Yu Sheng'an stepped out of a portal with a smile.
"Food is the foundation of Source Essence. I don’t believe you’d be so generous," the God of Life deliberately replied with a hint of mockery.
"Believe it or not, I’ve always maintained an open and free attitude. It’s just that people in this world are so accustomed to endless conflict that they can’t comprehend the concept of mutual benefit."
Yu Sheng'an spread his hands, his expression helpless.
"Oh? Then would you be willing to sell me these seeds?" the God of Life pressed.
"Why ask me again? You’ve already bought plenty on the Interconnected Grand E-commerce platform, haven’t you?"
The moment Yu Sheng'an said this, the God of Life’s expression froze. "Those seeds… are the same as these?"
Yu Sheng'an shook his head in exasperation, no longer bothering to explain.
The seeds listed on the Interconnected Grand E-commerce by the Magic Forest weren’t some outdated generation.
On the contrary, many of them performed even better than Keville’s.
Of course, those seeds were rather extreme—some demanded extremely high soil fertility, severely depleting the land’s nutrients… and so on.
Speaking of which, should the low-price food strategy still be implemented?
Of course it should!
However, selling seeds and the low-price food strategy weren’t mutually exclusive.
Seeds could also dismantle other nations’ self-sufficient food systems. Once they grew accustomed to high-yield crops, they would inevitably become dependent on his seeds.
This achieved the same effect as the low-price food strategy.
Beyond that, the low-price food strategy relied not just on superior seeds but, more importantly, on the cost reduction from large-scale mechanized farming.
And most crucially—the Empire’s unified policy of purchasing at high prices and selling at low ones.
This required the Empire to "selflessly" subsidize agriculture with profits from other sectors—something few nobles across the multiverse would ever consider doing.
Only Yu Sheng'an could truly grasp the logic behind it.
Driving labor into factories to exploit their efficiency, rapidly amassing enormous profits, then using a fraction of those profits to subsidize agriculture—ensuring self-sufficiency while gradually undermining other nations' agricultural independence—is flawless logic.
"Now isn’t the time to discuss seeds. Doesn’t the Internet God intend to invite us inside?" Mother Earth said with a smile.
"Seems you have business with me? Fine, I’ll take you somewhere nice."
As Yu Sheng'an spoke, a portal bloomed beneath his feet, swiftly spreading to the four gods. In the blink of an eye, the five vanished from the vast fields.
The next moment, they appeared in a pristine, well-lit lounge. A sofa and square table stood inside, while outside the window, rolling clouds stretched endlessly. They had materialized inside an airship cabin. Peering through the window, they could even see Willis City, now reduced to the size of a tiny block in the distance.
"I’ve checked—there are over three thousand buyers applying to purchase airships, many of whom are your people, aren’t they?"
Yu Sheng'an crossed his legs as he settled onto the sofa. With a wave of his hand, a cabinet door slid open, and a bottle of wine along with glasses floated over.
"Don’t worry, I’m genuinely willing to sell airships. But production capacity can’t keep up, so… we’ll have to draw lots. My apologies."
He poured wine as he explained.
The God of War watched Yu Sheng'an’s casual demeanor, and fury suddenly flared within him.
"Bang!"
He slammed his hands on the table, leaning over to glare down at Yu Sheng'an.
"Seems you’re living quite comfortably, aren’t you? You know what? The God of Death approached us, proposing an alliance to attack Keville. I think it’s a fine idea. What do you say?"
Yu Sheng'an paused briefly in pouring the wine—then resumed as if nothing had happened. Only after filling all five glasses did he pick one up, take a sip, and reply with utter indifference:
"I think it’s a great idea! After taking Keville, you can focus on settling your own rivalries. As for me, I’ll be generous—I’ll scatter Dragon Factories across the world. Then everyone can manufacture firearms and airships, trading them freely. Sounds perfect to me."
"Whether united or scattered, it makes no difference to me. What do you think?"
The moment the words left his mouth, the God of War’s expression froze.
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