Global Gods : Skill-Resonance Awakened Chapter 370: Ch 370 : The Golden King

While the Demon Lords remained ensnared within their own maze of suspicious delusions, utterly convinced that Sunny employed the Pearl of Calamity like a divine interstellar hauler, the Sovereign himself lay far outside their grasp.

Amid the pitch-black streams of the profound void, Sunny streaked as a haze of violet-golden purpose. Each Void Step he executed didn't merely span distances; it crumpled the bubble's very weave, linking chasms across multiverses that a God might spend years to traverse.

Efficiency transcended mere ambition for Sunny; it formed the core principle of his being. He had already sent out ten elite squads into the shadows, yet that scratched only the surface. Scattered along the cosmic expanse stood fifteen of his clones, each directing parallel missions. Altogether, close to 160 multiverses now underwent conquest in diverse phases.

Had Sunny sought to seize these domains sequentially, he'd still be nurturing one sapling as the entire woodland decayed.

By entrusting the reaping to his Pantheon, he converted a sluggish advance of domination into a concurrent, multi-layered harmony. This went beyond mere time-saving; it drove advancement.

Every realm absorbed by his Gods supplied the Faith and growth needed for them to someday command their own multiverses.

Though the Gods operated simultaneously, the operation's vastness loomed enormous, but their prowess proved unquestionable. They served as the gears in a mechanism crafted to devour the entire bubble.

Yet as Sunny’s outer dominion expanded, another form of growth unfolded deep within the Elsewhere of his soul.

Within the Inner World, the turbulent gale of the Era of Friction had at last calmed into a rigid, unyielding order.

The heart of this fresh regime pulsed in Veridia.

Anohara, descendant of the fabled Anaske through many generations, accomplished the once-unthinkable: uniting Veridia's five continents and drifting isles beneath one emblem, the Cosmic Empire.

He grasped that although The Gods had stripped away the Divine Safety Net, the Sovereign permitted mortals to craft their own web of protective edicts.

Anohara’s rule rested upon the bedrock of the Imperial Mandate. Wisely, he permitted the Lone Wolves—those rugged, self-reliant cultivators and fighters—to dwell beyond his urban centers, as long as they adhered to his constitution's core statutes.

The edicts appeared straightforward: no unauthorized slayings, no pilfering of merits, and total openness in commerce.

When someone suffered injustice, he refrained from unsheathing his blade; instead, he brought his complaint before the Imperial Courts, where elite telepaths delivered judgments of Absolute Truth.

Bit by bit, beneath these guidelines, regional murders and banditry waned. Numerous offenders earned the Wanted label, compelling them to lurk in the world's frigid, shadowy nooks, forever glancing back at the gleaming plate mail of Imperial Warriors.

In the empire's shelter, fresh Kingdoms emerged, guided by racial chiefs or popularly elected figures, with certain prominent clans forging their own realms beneath the Cosmic Empire's standard.

Every kingdom abided by the empire's basic charter, yet could enact extra regional bylaws, but only after Anohara and the imperial court approved them.

The Orcs, for example, insisted on hosting lethal combats to honor their timeless rites of blood and glory.

Since the Empire deemed killing criminal, Anohara tailored regulations for their lands: duels allowed solely with both combatants submitting notarized, soul-sealed agreements before an Arbiter.

Within merely two years of this charter's launch, the Cosmic Empire achieved total steadiness, rendering Veridia a radiant emblem of progress cradled in Sunny’s grasp.

Nevertheless, System Forums still reported rampant crime across other realms. Creatures outside Veridia grappled to forge viable societies, trapped in endless Friction. Witnessing this, Anohara reached a bold resolve: to merge the whole Inner World. Yet for the moment, he resolved to admit only the willing beneath his banner.

He forged his own forum, a virtual and ethereal hub where chieftains from myriad multiverses could convene under the Cosmic Empire's colors.

Initially, doubt prevailed. Why kneel to a ruler on a remote floating isle across the multiverse? But gradually, the alliance's advantages proved irresistible.

Veridia stood as Sunny, the God Emperor's inaugural world. It was the Primal Seed.

Thanks to ancestral feats from legends like Thorn, Vel, and Anaske, the realm brimmed with Merits.

These merits flowed down like inherited legacies. Anohara now ranked as the wealthiest mortal alive, commanding billions in Merits—a hoard dwarfing even a centuries-old Demigod's reserves.

Leveraging this bounty, Veridia evolved into the soul's manufacturing core. Starships, arcane methods, cutting-edge arms, and S-Grade artifacts all emerged from Veridian smithies.

Realms aligning with the Cosmic Empire gained top priority for these commissions plus exclusive Discounts.

Beholden to this, almost 20 billion worlds rallied to the banner, chasing the affluence of the Sovereign’s First Children. The leftover 30 billion opted for solitude, eyeing the swelling giant with suspicion and honing their edges.

In one such defiant realm, shrouded in verdant fogs of a far-flung zone, a clandestine assembly unfolded within a gloom-shrouded chamber hewn from pure jade.

"That Anohara... He has united 20 billion worlds," a gentle, harmonious voice resounded through the space.

The speaker hid her features behind a veil, though her eyes shone through—radiating a captivating, venomous green glow that throbbed with concealed might.

"The news forums overflow with his image. Unless this shifts, he will merge every world here, compelling us to submit just to endure. We'd become specters in our own saga. We must strike."

"Your Highness," a minister responded, emerging from the gloom with a slick, constant smirk. "We command a hundred thousand worlds now. To the masses, we're a juggernaut. Yet against that colossus, our domain seems a mere cub before a dragon."

"Your expression hints at a scheme," the Empress observed, propping her chin on her palm. Her emerald gaze tightened, mirroring the hall's faint torchlight.

"Noticing is your supreme skill, Highness," the minister declared, a wicked leer creeping over his features.

"Simple principle: what crowds witness often shapes their reality. These rulers envy Anohara's perks because he rules the forums. He's claimed visual supremacy. We can't match his riches, but we can corrode his image from within."

"How?" the Empress pressed, her voice edging sharper.

"We reshape public views," the minister murmured. "Task our loyalest beings to flood forums with posts vilifying his rule."

"We'll invent tales of graft, Merits snatched from paupers to fuel his excesses. We'll stage leaks of Imperial brutality. The flood of these falsehoods will breed suspicion. We'll paint the Golden King as a Golden Despot in the masses' sight before he nears our frontiers."

The Empress reclined, her green eyes mirroring her counselor's shadowy greed. In the Era of Friction, conflicts transcended blades and sorcery. They waged through the gift Sunny bestowed: Information.

"Launch the campaign," the Empress ordered. "Let's discover how many Merits it costs to reclaim a ruined name."

As the minister inclined and melted into obscurity, the jade chamber chilled further. The Inner World had outgrown a cradle; it morphed into a den of serpents, igniting the inaugural Information War of the fresh epoch.

Far within the void, Sunny’s Divine Eyes glimmered. Though hunting fresh multiverses, a sliver of his awareness clung to the System Forums of his inner realm.

He detected the misinformation's initial wave. He spotted the pioneering leak branding Anohara a despot.

Erasing those posts demanded but a whim. Obliterating the Empress and her minister required no effort.

Yet he refrained.

"Let the friction blaze," Sunny mused, an icy grin brushing his lips. "A King felled by deceit deserves no throne in my Empire. Prove your mettle, Anohara. Or yield your crown to the Jade Empress."

Mortals' intrigues amounted to a mere droplet against the Gods' clashes, so he chose to prioritize the grand vista, leaving the demigods to manage his inner domain.

With one last Void Step, Sunny dissolved into the abyss, heading to a locus vibrating with an archaic yet novel Power's echo.