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A profound, almost jarring silence had settled over Sunny. He sat on his throne, the mory crystal gifted by Adam still pulsing faintly in his hand, a universe of cosmic secrets now swirling within his own divine consciousness.

For a long ti, a fundantal piece of the puzzle had eluded him. He understood how blessings worked; a gift flowing down the hierarchy.

He understood his own Void-born nature granted him a higher place. But Adam, another Void-born, should have been his equal.

How could Adam bestow talents upon him, or upon other Void-born Gods in the ancient past?

The SSS-Grade Blessing talent itself stated it only worked on those below in hierarchy. It was a contradiction, a loose thread in the tapestry of cosmic law that had nagged at him.

Now, staring at the final entry in Adam’s legacy, the description of the First-Born talent, the final piece clicked into place with the resounding clarity of a universal truth revealed.

[Talent Na: First-Born]

[Grade: SSS]

[Description: As the first conscious entity born from the Void, your hierarchy is supre, standing above all other creatures, including subsequent Void-born.]

The description was deceptively simple, yet its implications were staggering.

Adam wasn’t just a Void-born; he was the first Void-born, the eldest brother, the original spark. His position wasn’t just high; it was absolute.

It explained everything; his ability to bless equals, the sheer, overwhelming power he possessed even in his diminished state, the reverence with which the mory of him was held.

A slow, dangerous smile spread across Sunny’s face, hidden behind his mask.

If Adam was the first, and Sunny was also Void-born, then Sunny stood second only to him in the entire cosmic order.

This First-Born talent... it wasn’t just a power; it was a crown waiting to be claid. With this, he could truly bless anyone, his commands would carry an even greater weight, and his authority would be unshakeable.

He imdiately marked this talent as his highest priority, the next jewel he would add to his growing collection.

For now, he would wait for the tournant to reveal the hidden talent his sixth sense had promised him.

He pushed the exhilarating thoughts aside and turned his attention back to the Arena of Epiphany.

The Crucible raged on, a breathtaking spectacle of divine power and ambition.

The battles were far more engaging than the earlier rounds, a clash of demigods whose skills and strategies were a universe apart from the lifeforms.

After fifteen grueling days, the first wave of demigod matches finally concluded. One million had entered; only a thousand remained.

"What a magnificent display!" Adam’s voice bood, filled with genuine appreciation.

"We have witnessed incredible wits, overwhelming strength, and even monts of profound compassion amidst the chaos! I, for one, cannot wait to see what more these champions have to offer!"

He gestured grandly. "Let the next wave begin!"

Another million points of light vanished from the stands, teleported into the thousand deadly arenas. Sunny scanned his own roster, his gaze settling on the two empty spots.

This ti, it was the Spirit King and Isiah, the Demigod of Knowledge.

"Let’s see what you two can do," Sunny thought, a flicker of anticipation in his mind.

The Spirit King materialized high above a windswept, mountainous arena. Without hesitation, his form dissolved, becoming one with the very air, an invisible, omnipresent consciousness riding the gales.

He was patient, a silent observer waiting for his prey to reveal themselves.

Isiah, on the other hand, appeared under the shade of a colossal, ancient tree in a jungle bio.

He simply sat down, closed his milky-white, all-knowing eyes, and entered a state of serene ditation, a calm island in a sea of impending violence.

He did not need to seek his opponents; his knowledge encompassed the entire arena.

He already knew where they were, what their powers were, and precisely when they would arrive.

One was a hunter, the other a scholar. Their journeys through The Crucible had begun.

In the dark, oppressive eting hall of Ashgar, the seven Demon Lords reconvened. The mood was grim, heavy with the bitter taste of failure.

"Five of our most promising demon gods are dead," Maledictus reported, her voice a low, dangerous hiss. "And the others... they can find no trace of these new Gods. It is as if their entire civilization vanished into thin air."

"Losing five is insignificant!" Ichor snarled, slamming his corrosive fist on the bone table, leaving another sizzling scar. "What is unacceptable is that not a single one of these whelps has been killed! Where are they hiding?!"

His rage burned hot, fueled by the humiliating mory of the masked God, Cosmos, slipping through his grasp.

He could still picture that portal closing, imagine the mocking grin hidden behind that infuriating mask.

"Deimos!" Ichor rounded on the Lord of Discord. "You know the location of this Cosmos, don’t you? I heard Xar’gath fell because of him! Give his coordinates!"

"Yes, I know where he resides," Deimos replied calmly, unmoved by Ichor’s fury. "But I will not tell you. Not yet." He looked around the table, his black eyes eting theirs one by one.

"We have made three moves against these new Gods. The treasure map. Unleashing the demigods into the Realm of Advancent. Sending the demon gods to hunt their ho worlds. And all three moves have yielded... unsatisfactory results."

The other six Demon Lords nodded grimly. Their plans, usually so perfect, so devastating, were being countered at every turn.

"If we still see no significant results in the next thousand years," Deimos declared, his voice absolute, "then I will give you his location. But not before."

He leaned back, a thoughtful expression on his face. "And I do not believe this Cosmos is one of the newborns created by Adam’s artifact. I sensed him, once, a million years ago. But I was never able to find him."

The statent sent a ripple of shock through the hall.

"Even in your peak state, you could not find him?" Maledictus asked, her usual composure cracking slightly.

"No," Deimos admitted. "It was as if he simply vanished into thin air. I searched every corner of every multiverse for half a million years. And found Nothing. Then, just a few centuries ago, I sensed him again. His aura was weak then, fragile. But I knew it was him." A slow, predatory smile touched his lips as he rembered the words whispered by Cosmos, a challenge that had echoed in his mind for a million years.

"It isn’t ti to fight you yet. But don’t worry. You will die one day for sure."

"He intrigues ," Deimos concluded, his eyes gleaming with a dark, ancient amusent. "Let him grow a little stronger. Let him gather his little army. The ga will be far more entertaining that way."

You are reading Global Gods : Skill-Resonance Awakened Chapter 187: Ch 187 : The King’s Inheritance and the threat on novel69. Use the chapter navigation above or below to continue reading the latest translated chapters.
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