Global Gods : Skill-Resonance Awakened Chapter 380 380: Ch 380 : Price of The Hunger

The cosmic balance within the bubble was shifting precariously. In the grand, high-stakes game of cosmic conquest, a three-front war had ignited, yet the momentum was far from evenly distributed.

Two factions were ascending at an impossible rate: the Sovereign, also known as Cosmos, whose sheer conceptual might was beginning to contort the very fabric of reality, and Lom, the Soul Thief from the Demonic Realm, whose army of pilfered prodigies and converted Demon Gods expanded with each passing hour.

Trapped in the unenviable middle, the Seven Demon Lords were being systematically crushed. This was an existential pincer movement of unprecedented scale.

Within the Demonic Realm, their forces were being depleted by Lom's hit-and-run tactics, a relentless guerrilla war waged against their legacies.

Concurrently, within the bubble belonging to Lady Sansa, Sunny was methodically devouring multiverse after multiverse.

This was more than a mere loss of territory; it represented a slow starvation of the demonic essence. Demons thrived on the discord, hunger, and sins generated by mortal existence.

As Sunny integrated these multiverses into his own internal dominion, he wasn't just claiming territory; he was severing the demon race's very sustenance.

Their power conduits were being dismantled, their future champions were being abducted, and for the first time in aeons, the Lords of the Abyss were approaching the precipice of their resolve.

Deep within the fluctuating dimensions of the Pearl of Calamity, Lom occupied his throne, ensconced in the ethereal violet and black luminescence of his illicit acquisitions.

His intelligence apparatus had evolved into a formidable, living construct. Through his Heralds, he maintained an obsessive, vigilant watch over the multiverses where Sunny had stationed his Gods.

Lom exercised extreme caution, however. His Heralds were strictly forbidden from venturing into the Open space.

He was well aware that Thea, Sunny's demigod, possessed sensory capabilities bordering on the infinite. Should she detect even the faintest hint of a Calamity Herald's aura, she would undoubtedly relay it to Sunny, precipitating a bloodbath that would stain the deepest cosmic layers crimson.

"My Lord," a Demon General intoned, emerging from the gloom. His armor was intricately inscribed with runes of concealment, and his eyes blazed with a palpable, restless craving.

"That Thea... she is merely a single demigod. We could easily snatch those mortals from directly beneath her notice. Even if she detects us, we can retreat into the embrace of the Pearl with a mere flick of our wrists before that Cosmos can even register our movement."

Lom regarded the General with cold, assessing eyes. "I have stated this repeatedly: do not engage Cosmos. Not yet. You perceive a mere annoyance; I see the spider that orchestrates the entire web. I shall devise a method to dismantle him when the opportune moment arrives. Until then, your mandate is to observe. Only when you discover a multiverse devoid of any trace of Sunny's Gods are you permitted to harvest its lifeforms for our sustenance."

Lom exhaled slowly, sinking deeper into the shadows of his throne. Commanding a demonic host was akin to attempting to bridle a pack of ravenous wolves; their inherent bloodlust and arrogant pride served as perpetual hindrances.

"However, they are adept at following orders," Lom mused with a dark, internal chuckle, "provided they recognize the hand wielding the leash possesses a strength superior to their own resolve."

He recalled the nascent stages of his rebellion, when the abducted Demon Gods had resisted him with every fiber of their beings.

Then, he had unearthed a terrifying revelation: his aura, meticulously refined by the Higher Entity within the subterranean depths of the Capital, functioned as an innate biological command protocol for demons. It instilled submission, redirecting their inherent loyalty away from the established Lords and toward himself.

Following his breakthrough in the depths, Lom's power had surged, reaching a level that rivaled even Ichor, the weakest of the Seven.

Given that every demon manifested as a conceptual offshoot of that Higher Entity, Lom, with his augmented strength and potent aura, had become their natural paramount leader.

Lom's focus shifted to a luminous, holographic depiction of Lady Sansa's bubble.

It presented a breathtaking tableau of data, teeming with countless minuscule white specks signifying individual multiverses. Yet, amidst this vast expanse of white, two points gleamed like prominent beacons.

One emitted a profound, resonant Purple hue, denoting Sunny's rapidly expanding dominion. The other radiated an Intense, Absolute Black.

Lom leaned forward, his breath catching in his throat. Observing the real-time updates, he witnessed the perimeters of the Purple and Black dots beginning to encroach upon each other. They were on an inevitable collision course.

"Perhaps... I can resolve both threats with this," Lom whispered, rising abruptly from his seat. His mind churned with the potential outcomes of a direct confrontation between the Demon Lords, Cosmos, and the enigmatic entity dwelling within the black sphere.

Yet, a significant obstacle persisted. "The quandary of the truth remains unresolved," he muttered, pacing the cavernous expanse of his throne room.

"I must notify the Demon Lords of Cosmos's precise location, but how can I? They are under the impression that Cosmos and I are allies. Should I dispatch a messenger, they would undoubtedly execute him before he could utter a word. If I were to summon Belial alone, he would likely attempt to eliminate me the moment he discovered Cosmos was not present to offer protection. I can contend with Ichor, but Ichor lacks the capacity for lie detection, meaning he wouldn't ascertain my honesty. It appears to be a deadlock born of mutual suspicion."

Lom gripped his head in his hands, realizing he was more adept at scheming than diplomacy. A method was required to shatter the Lords' isolation without meeting his demise in the process.

Back within the Demonic Capital, the halls of obsidian remained in deep silence, broken only by the consistent clicking of claws upon the stone floor.

Deimos occupied the position at the head of the Great Table, his surroundings cluttered with stacks of reports detailing missing individuals.

The majority were as anticipated: a promising prodigy here, a rising general there. However, one particular file, encased in worn grey leather, caused even the Lord of Discord to falter.

"This is no mere report of a missing person," Maledictus declared, her voice laced with venom as she propelled the file across the table. "It details the disappearance of an entire multiverse. Much like the multiverse of the Gods and the Realm of Advancement, the Multiverse of Power has also been physically removed from its designated coordinates."

"So, they are assaulting us from both fronts," Phobos, the Lord of Fear, murmured, his gaze flitting towards the room's shadowy recesses.

"Lom plunders our future from within the realm, while Cosmos devours our foundations from the outer realm. If this pattern persists, our lifeline will undoubtedly snap. We will steadily weaken with each passing day, while they grow plump from our accumulating losses."

"Is it even feasible for Lom to be present in so many locations simultaneously?" Phobos inquired, turning his attention to Deimos. "While the Pearl of Calamity does possess cloning capabilities, those duplicates are intended to be static. They lack the capacity for expansion required to encompass an entire multiverse, and their speed is but a fraction of the original's."

"He is not employing the clones to relocate the multiverses," Deimos stated, his voice resonating as a deep, vibrating rumble of intense fury.

"Instead, he is utilizing the clones as diversions to abduct our people from this place, while the true Pearl is engaged in the complete consumption of the outer realms. We are being manipulated by a master of misdirection."

"Then we must take immediate action!" Phobos exclaimed. "Should we dispatch our Demon Gods into the outer void to safeguard the remaining multiverses?"

"To what end?" Deimos countered, his eyes blazing with a cold, sharp luminescence. "They too would simply be abducted. We would be willingly surrendering our elite forces on a silver platter."

For the first time in countless millennia, Deimos experienced the biting sting of humiliation. To hold the title of Lord of Discord and yet be outmaneuvered by mere insects was utterly unacceptable.

The very atmosphere within the chamber began to crackle, charged by his escalating aura, an aura so potent that it caused the obsidian walls themselves to weep a dark, viscous liquid.

He rose to his feet, his colossal form casting a towering shadow over the other Lords.

"Enough," Deimos uttered softly. The single word carried the crushing weight of a death sentence. "The capital remains secure as long as the rest of you remain within its confines. With six Lords present, even Cosmos would exercise caution before attempting to breach these walls. I have remained confined within this tower for far too long, content to play a defensive game while my power base is systematically dismantled."

The other Lords regarded him with palpable astonishment.

"I am departing," Deimos proclaimed decisively. "I will venture into the outer realm unaccompanied. I shall locate the source responsible for this alarming disappearance of the multiverses. If Lom is the perpetrator, I shall flay his soul. If it is Cosmos... I shall demonstrate unequivocally why I am revered as the Lord of Discord."

"Deimos, the inherent risks..." Maledictus began, but the Lord of Discord swiftly silenced her with a mere, penetrating glance.

"Attend to the Capital in my absence. Should any seismic event occur, send me a signal. Otherwise, prepare the legions. A bloodbath is imminent, and I intend to be the one to spill the initial drop, as well as the very last."

As Deimos dissolved into a rift of black lightning, the remaining Lords exchanged uncertain glances. The strategic stalemate had been shattered. The most formidable intellect of the Abyss was now venturing into the darkness, and the void was soon to comprehend the steep price of its insatiable hunger.