My attributes are increasing infinitely Chapter 445: Entering the game

With the ancient voice's approval of his plea, a comprehensive influx of data on the game surged straight into Ethan's consciousness.

The insights streamed in softly like a serene stream, saturating his mind with complex specifics and timeless legends.

Yet Ethan chose not to explore the knowledge right away.

"Let’s go," he told Ryugu, his tone steady and determined, revealing nothing of the chaotic ideas churning within him.

Ryugu nodded promptly and guided them along the twisting routes of the timeless territory.

The atmosphere hung heavy with the aroma of everlasting blossoms in full bloom, their blooms emitting a subtle radiance beneath the endless dusky heavens.

The earth underfoot felt plush, covered in lichen that appeared to murmur tales from bygone ages.

Before long, they reached a splendid edifice, its barriers formed from gleaming quartz that mirrored the colors of the nearby scenery.

Spires twisted skyward, decorated with elaborate etchings showing legendary clashes and heavenly marvels.

"We don't have a guest house, brother. So you'll need to stay in my palace," Ryugu explained with regret, his voice tinged with sincere apology.

He motioned toward the majestic doorway, where ghostly glows fluttered like glowing insects.

Ethan simply grinned, his face kind and comforting.

He rested a hand on Ryugu’s shoulder for a moment, an act of friendship that melted away the strain.

"Don't fret over it. Just give us two rooms next to each other," he replied, his words firm and sensible.

"Sure," Ryugu answered, visibly eased.

He escorted them through the lavish corridors, where frescoes of primordial serpents and sacred entities decorated the surfaces.

Once he had pointed out their quarters—roomy suites equipped with soft bedding covered in smooth cloths and facing expansive grounds—Ryugu departed, assuring them that dinner would be prepared shortly and he would fetch them.

His steps echoed away along the hallway, granting Ethan and Rose a peaceful interlude.

"Rose, get some rest. We'll head out to explore the area afterward," he suggested softly, his gaze connecting with hers in a tenderness that differed from his typical fervor.

Rose agreed with a nod, her features blending weariness and interest.

She stepped into her chamber, the entrance shutting quietly after her, and Ethan observed briefly before heading to his own.

Ethan then stepped inside his space, the portal locking with a soft snap.

He settled onto the bedding, the cushion sinking plushly beneath him, and at last permitted himself to immerse in the knowledge bestowed upon him.

The details expanded in his thoughts akin to leaves from an old scroll, unveiling the mysteries of the Game of Gods.

The Game of Gods served as a vast contest for the offspring of deities, aimed at deciding which lineage would gain greater supplies.

Typically, all individuals from the divine lineages were born within a clan; no independents roamed unbound.

Lineages boasting more authentic deities could dispatch additional youths to join.

The originator of the fate race hailed from a minor divine lineage, one possessing just one authentic deity who had scarcely attained that noble rank.

Consequently, they were limited to dispatching a single contender.

This originator had selected Ethan as that contender, wagering his existence on the result.

It represented a bold risk, driven by urgency and optimism.

Any deity could put forward their offspring or a kin from their lineage to join the fray.

Although Ethan wasn't inherently of the fate race, he stood as an exception, an entity whose core could adjust and integrate into any lineage structure, rendering him an exceptional and flexible pick.

At present, the game's heart centered on the Tower of Trials.

This edifice was mythic, rumored to predate the very threading of time into existence.

It endured as a perpetual landmark, its beginnings veiled in enigma.

Supplies for the whole divine lineage were drawn straight from this tower; it provided the primary sacred essences unavailable elsewhere in the sacred domain.

Lacking it, the deities' thriving would wane.

In the end, the victor—the contender who seized the ultimate sacred relic—would claim 10% of the supplies exclusively for their lineage across 10,000 years.

The other 90% would be shared among the remaining entrants who had claimed relics from the diverse levels.

A sum of 10,000 slots existed, offering chances for myriad lineages to contend for dominance.

Ethan comprehended the core of it, his thoughts assembling the ramifications.

The rivalry burned intensely, carrying everlasting repercussions.

The contest entailed rebirth into varied realms.

Every entrant would be reborn in a secular domain and charged with finding a concealed relic inside it.

The instant a contender grasped that relic, the ordeal for that level would end.

Should a participant secure over one relic, they might exchange the surplus for sacred vitality, essential for lengthening their law strands—the core filaments of a deity's might.

This proved especially crucial for those from inferior divine lineages, granting them a route to enhanced power.

Furthermore, fulfilling particular missions in these realms would grant extra sacred vitality as prizes from the tower, encouraging not only haste but cleverness and endurance.

Every level of the tower presented a distinct secular realm setup, featuring singular regulations, obstacles, and denizens.

The diversity guaranteed that no pair of ordeals matched, challenging the flexibility of each contender.

Having taken in all the details, Ethan eased somewhat, reclining against the bed's top.

The contest was slated to commence in roughly 30 days, yet he had to reach the tower's vicinity in merely three days for the rite of immersion and confirmation of his eligibility as a contender.

Ethan remained unconcerned by the schedule.

He first connected mentally with Ryugu, asking for a blood specimen to be delivered.

The exchange happened rapidly, a mind-to-mind bond that spanned the gap without effort.

Within five minutes, Ryugu appeared at Ethan's entrance himself, tapping lightly prior to stepping in.

He presented a tiny container, its interior shining with a soft red gleam.

"Brother, here you go," he offered, his gaze inquisitive yet deferential.

"Ryugu, come in. I've got something to discuss," Ethan beckoned, pointing to a close seat.

"What is it, brother?" Ryugu inquired, taking the spot with clear interest.

Ethan went on to describe the Game of Gods, outlining the fate race originator's role and the high stakes involved.

"The law strand in your body has already been removed, so you can't become a true god anymore unless you form another law. Right?" Ethan questioned, his voice searching but understanding.

"Yes, that's accurate," Ryugu confirmed, first startled by Ethan's discernment but soon regaining poise.

He acknowledged Ethan's immense skill and brilliance; such awareness was startling yet plausible.

"I'm planning to triumph in the game. Then I'll possess my own law. Would you wish to serve under me if I succeed?" Ethan suggested straightforwardly.

"Brother, are you certain? We are a lineage banished from the god race. Indeed, you'll gain strength if we merge with you, but should you step into the divine realm, they would detect our aura inside you, and fury from the ruling local clan would descend upon you," Ryugu stated evenly, his response thoughtful and prudent.

"No need to concern yourself with that. Consult your elders," Ethan countered with matching composure, his assurance unwavering.

Ryugu grinned, a spark of insight in his look.

"Very well. Good fortune to you. And if so, you needn't craft the technique at present. Should you return unharmed with your own law, we'll most probably pledge as your subjects," Ryugu remarked with a friendly grin.

"Oh? You're confident saying this without checking with your leaders?" Ethan queried with interest, arching a brow.

Ryugu merely grinned enigmatically and dissolved into a vortex of ghostly vapor, leaving Ethan to reflect on the conversation.

Next, Ethan stood and moved toward Rose’s chamber, his steps soft on the gleaming surfaces.

"Rose, let’s head out," he called, rapping lightly on her entrance.

Rose emerged and regarded Ethan, her eyes sharp.

"Did something occur?" she questioned plainly, picking up on the faint change in his manner.

"Am I that obvious?" Ethan chuckled awkwardly, scratching the nape of his neck.

"You are," Rose affirmed with a nod, her face direct.

"Fine, I suppose I can share now," Ethan agreed with a nod and began recounting the fate race originator and the game's complexities to her.

He whispered the explanation, covering the tower, the rebirths, and the relics, making sure she grasped the dangers without burdening her excessively.

Rose abruptly felt deep unease, her chest clenching with worry, though words escaped her.

Expressions fell short against such vast perils.

Ethan clasped Rose’s hand securely, his hold solid yet soothing.

"Rose, when I come back, there's something crucial I need to share with you," he declared earnestly, his stare fixed on hers with deep purpose.

Over the following three days, Ethan and Rose roamed the ancients' domain guided by Ryugu.

It proved an enjoyable period, brimming with chuckles, revelations, and serene bonds amid the marvels.

As the third day dawned, Ethan called forth the mega omega clone to this domain.

It appeared in a burst of power, an flawless duplicate set to safeguard and join Rose, since it had scant duties in the neutral zone.

"Are you prepared? I'm transporting you to the site," Ethan heard the ancient voice once more, resounding in his thoughts like far-off rumble.

Ethan merely nodded, his determination hardening.

Shortly, amid a dazzling radiance that wrapped him like a sheath of untainted force, he disappeared from the spot.

Upon reopening his eyes, he found himself in an expansive meadow, the greenery waving lightly in a holy gust.

Myriads of entities bustled around, their presences emanating might and sanctity.

At the heart loomed the Tower of Trials, a formidable construct without an apparent summit, extending boundlessly upward.

Its exterior gleamed with symbols that throbbed with primordial vigor, bearing witness to its 10,000 levels and the colossal trials inside.

"What is this impure aura? It doesn't match our lineage," abruptly the youthful elites of the god race began whispering, their tones a blend of scorn.

Gazes shifted to Ethan, the sole figure missing the inherent sacred core of their breed.

"Scum, who are you? How did you arrive?" Ethan caught a voice challenging.

He glanced back and spotted a striking youth with a pristine presence positioned there.

The youth gripped a diminutive dagger, its edge sparkling with otherworldly sheen.

"Scram, kid, or I'll force you to," Ethan huffed disdainfully.

He cared little if they hailed from some elite lineage. He refused to tolerate insolence.