Global Gods : Skill-Resonance Awakened Chapter 355: Ch 355 : A Failed Experiment

The Spire of Sins loomed in the center of the Demonic Capital, an immense black spire stabbing through the murky clouds of the Abyssal heavens.

Within the Great Hall of the Seven, the atmosphere hung heavy with the aroma of wickedness and infernal Miasma.

"What do you mean, you can’t locate him?!" Belial bellowed, his shout reverberating from the arched ceilings like rolling thunder. His striking features twisted in desperate rage.

"He’s merely one Demon God! Where could he possibly conceal himself? The Abyss belongs to us!"

The elite Demon Gods before the throne quivered, dropping to their knees. As the General prepared to stammer out an apology, the enormous doors reinforced with iron creaked apart.

Six sets of steps echoed across the room. The chill in the air dropped sharply.

Belial rose suddenly, shooing away the envoys with a quick flick of his wrist. "Depart! Search through all shadows, cracks, and abandoned lairs. Announce it: anyone delivering Lom’s head to me will receive blessings straight from the Lords. Go now!"

The envoys faded into the darkness right as the other six Demon Lords entered the illuminated area.

Leading them stood Deimos, the Lord of Discord, whose aura warped the nearby space into a distorted, uneasy shape.

"Belial," Deimos uttered. His tone wasn’t raised, but it held a heaviness that chilled the core of Belial’s bones like frost. "Tell us about this crisis. We held position near the rift, anticipating Cosmos’s action, yet your urgent summons pulled us back. For your benefit, I trust this interruption justifies risking our target’s getaway."

"Lom," Belial snarled, his gaze flicking over his fellow Lords. "That traitor schemed against us from the start. He didn’t merely discover the City of Gods by chance; he operated as a spy for both sides. He revealed our full trap plan to Cosmos. He disclosed your setups by the rift and detailed my exact assault method."

Belial’s speech flowed elegantly, a perfect display of his Semantic Authority.

In truth, Belial lacked evidence of Lom’s disloyalty, yet he required a diversion. He aimed to mask his withdrawal’s humiliation with a tale of vast intrigue. A defeat due to betrayal shifted blame from strength’s lack... to vigilance’s shortfall.

"Are you claiming," Deimos inquired, advancing until nearly touching Belial’s visage, "that you, an Abyss Lord, fell in battle against an obscure ’Emperor’ due to one informant?"

"Cosmos wasn’t alone!" Belial shot back, his energy surging protectively. "Adam joined the fray. The God of Growth probably ingested a Pill of Life; he reached his utmost strength, surpassing his First Era might. He deployed a banned method to amplify his abilities. And Cosmos... Cosmos proved far more dreadful."

"At full power, Adam still shouldn’t rival your Paradox," Maledictus, the Lord of Curses, cut in. Her tone rasped softly, her gaze emitting an ill green glow. "How did you forfeit the abstract terrain?"

"Since I confronted not two foes, but eighteen," Belial clarified, his arms waving emphatically to show the magnitude.

"Cosmos commands a spirit-division art that ignores every logical rule. He summoned sixteen replicas, each an exact copy of his primary form. They linked through one unified soul-web. I battled not an individual; I clashed with a collective divine intelligence."

A profound, thoughtful quiet settled over the hall. The Demon Lords shared glances of mounting concern.

"We grasp the strategic setback," Beelzebub murmured, his words humming with countless buggy echoes. "Yet sheer quantity fails to justify a Lord’s withdrawal. Describe his ability’s essence. What comprises his core Law?"

Belial drew in a steadying breath, his fingers quivering faintly—a sign he let show to emphasize his dread’s authenticity.

"His immortality... it’s maddeningly persistent," Belial murmured. "I destroyed those replicas. I vaporized them, wiped them out via the Law of Lies, and smashed them with brute might. I slew them countless times. Yet they respawned. In an instant, the fragments reassembled, and the duplicate rejoined the battle. It seemed he possessed endless resurrections."

Deimos’s gaze sharpened. This posed a blatant threat to their dominance.

Demon Lords possessed revival, though it demanded vast Abyssal energy and duration. Should Cosmos revive instantly without visible toll, the endurance war stood forfeit.

"If his resilience stuns you," Belial continued, lowering his pitch to an enigmatic hush, "you’re unprepared for what lay under his garments."

"What?" the Lords demanded together, their unified call causing the black pillars to creak.

"His hands," Belial revealed, his stare distant as he pictured the vortex of shadowy essence. "Not made of meat. They mimicked reality’s own fabric. Stars confined within a dermal prison, gleaming with the Void Mother’s radiance."

Invoking the Void Mother struck like a tangible strike. The Demon Lords froze as if carved from stone, burdened by their past’s gravity.

"Does he descend from her?" Malakai queried, his words shaky. "Or serve as a tailored construct meant to supplant us?"

"You might be reading too much into it," Deimos replied, despite his poise beginning to crack. "He may represent a botched trial, an abandoned model that achieved balance. Recall the Laws: the Void Mother stays out of her offspring’s conflicts. She watches without action. Should we slay him, she won’t intervene."

"A botched trial?" Belial scoffed. "Possibly. However, that trial advances. The stellar dermis expanded mid-conflict. I predict in mere centuries, his whole being transforms to that stellar substance. He discards his mortal shell like a serpent’s husk."

"Yet why is that significant?" Ichor, the Lord of Corrosion, wondered, seeking any glimmer of optimism. "Attractiveness doesn’t claim victories. A stellar physique remains merely physical. It bleeds."

"Does it?" Belial challenged, fixing his eyes on Ichor. "For in combat, my Laws affected his body flawlessly until I struck at his hands."

"My deceptions glanced off the stellar material like rain from a gem. Hear me, kin: upon full transformation, our Laws will find no hold on him. He’ll embody an undeniable Truth."

The quiet deepened, more frigid and intense than prior. The Demon Lords comprehended they faced not merely a competing deity; they confronted a countdown. Each moment Sunny devoted to reaping the multiverse edged them nearer to utter irrelevance.