The Invincible Full-Moon System Chapter 1856: Lured In

Divine power.

This was what Rex had initially theorized regarding the capabilities of the Gods.

He was aware that divine threads were the foundation of a Deity’s existence, serving as the core that defined their very essence. Yet, this divine intensity was merely a supposition, extrapolated from the otherworldly force those Lunirich Gods had brandished against him.

Now, his complete inability to detect the output of these Godlings made him realize his initial assessment had been flawed.

Perhaps the Lunirich Gods, when descending into lower planes, were forced to attenuate their potency, causing their output to degrade into a frequency that Rex and his peers could perceive. In reality, their true power was vastly superior and qualitatively distinct.

This fundamental disparity was precisely why his sensory perception failed to register the techniques utilized by these Gardeners.

Rex cast his gaze downward at the gasping captive, who was desperately wheezing through a mangled throat.

If the energy wielded by these beings existed on a plane beyond his perception, then his remarkably sharp instincts were effectively rendered impotent. He was blind to danger when the energy signatures were virtually nonexistent to him—more ephemeral than the shifting air.

He absolutely needed to rectify this deficiency.

<Sudden Quest!>

Rex’s eyes flickered as a notification window materialized before his vision.

After briefly scanning the details, he returned his attention to the choking man.

A drastic transformation was visible in his demeanor.

"It would be far cleaner to simply finish this piece of filth, would it not?" Lilliana tightened the bindings of her tendrils around the figure with rhythmic force, carving deeper, bloody lacerations into his limbs and rendering him utterly immobile. "We only need to bide our time for a moment."

Behind Rex, one of the remaining Gardeners hauled himself to his feet despite his grievous injuries.

Without a flicker of hesitation, he launched a desperate attack.

Davina moved with superior speed, intercepting him long before he could reach Rex. She pinned him to the earth using localized gravity and drove her fist deep into his midsection. As he vomited blood, she seized his throat and hoisted him into the air.

"It appears they share a different perspective than you do, sister," she murmured, locking eyes with him. "They are merely thralls."

The fact that these two were sacrificing themselves to protect the captive proved they were indentured servants.

They were individuals conditioned to the point where the mere notion of defying their masters was impossible. She could sense the profound reluctance in their gazes—it was as if they possessed no desire to defend the figure but were left with no alternative.

"The cycle repeats itself, does it not?" Lilliana surveyed the surroundings, shaking her head.

She had harbored hopes of entering a truly transcendent world, but she found herself mistaken.

Even here, there were echoes of the corruption found in the Spirit Realm.

Slavery had diminished significantly in the wake of the Black Rift, yet it remained a pervasive plague in the annals of history, and apparently, it was quite common within the God Realm itself.

Davina observed her own trembling palms.

She watched the Gardeners retaliating with their exotic energies, though their efforts inflicted negligible harm upon her. "At the very least, we now have confirmation that the Divine Protection serum is functioning," she reflected quietly. "I can still feel the residual heat humming within me."

"It offers protection only against minor divinity," Rex countered, crouching down before the captive. "That is insufficient for our needs."

His initial intent had been to consume this individual and proceed.

Nash was likely expecting their arrival, so time was of the essence.

However, the sudden appearance of the quest forced him to recalibrate his plans.

Furthermore, his own critical vulnerability had to be addressed immediately.

Rex studied the eyes of the gasping man, reaching forward to strip away his helmet.

Beneath the protection lay the face of a youth, roughly comparable in age to Rex himself. His complexion possessed an uncanny, ashen hue—resembling a Dark Elf but bleached into a pale, ghostly grey.

His eyes shimmered with a mixture of raw fury and trepidation.

These negative emotions were aimed squarely at Rex.

He had hoped this encounter might incite genuine murderous intent, but the intensity of the man’s rage was underwhelming.

"I intend to heal you now," Rex murmured, catching everyone, including Lilliana and Davina, off guard. "You have no desire to perish, correct? If that is the case, once your strength is restored, do not attempt anything foolish. If you persist in such idiocy, there will be no mercy left for you. Do you grasp the situation?"

Having been stripped of agency, the man offered a fragile nod.

Rex produced a vial from his inventory—a restorative tonic powerful enough to mend the man’s mangled flesh—and forced him to consume it. The healing properties took effect almost instantaneously, knitting together his torn throat and fused tendons.

Lilliana and Davina instinctively heightened their guard.

It would have been convenient to explain his reasoning, but that was asking too much of the current circumstances.

He would reveal his intentions later.

"You are an outsider, aren't you?" the man wheezed, glancing at the others before fixing his gaze on Rex. "From the Spirit Realm, I presume? Do you even have the slightest clue where you are standing? Do you have any concept of the consequences that will follow your decision to kill me?"

Rex stood up to his full height.

His expression remained devoid of concern.

"I have a curiosity; how many years have you lived? You are destined for a short life if you continue to behave in this manner, are you aware of that?" Rex folded his arms, genuinely baffled by the youth’s stupidity. It wasn't the words he spoke, but the path he was choosing to tread.

"What is meant by that?" the man asked tentatively, deep furrows appearing on his brow.

"He means that your instinct to belittle strangers, regardless of their origin in a lower realm, is a recipe for a premature grave," Lilliana explained, shaking her head. It was obvious they were dealing with someone pathetically inexperienced.

"Tendency to underestimate? What nonsense are you spouting?"

"You are desperately stalling for time, and it is an incredibly foolish tactic."

"W-What...? I am not..."

He fell silent abruptly, realizing that the cold, calculating gaze of these strangers meant that deception was futile. Even if he believed his actions were clever, their expressions suggested otherwise.

Mere moments ago, the man had been groveling for his life. Now, bolstered by a flicker of mercy, he was probing, questioning, and stalling. If he lacked knowledge regarding his captors' desires, he should have remained still. Observed. Listened. Only spoken when survival required it.

Instead, he had laid his soul bare.

His naivety, his terror, and his hope for an imminent rescue were all transparent.

To Rex and his companions, he was an open book.

And such easily read individuals rarely survived long.

"As you have clearly deduced yourself, we are not of this realm. If we possess the courage to strike, you should assume we are fully prepared for the ramifications," Lilliana smiled. It was a charming expression, but to the youth, she emanated the aura of a predator. "No one is coming to your rescue. My apologies."

She did not fully understand the function of the relic Rex had deployed earlier.

But since he had initiated combat, she was certain he had accounted for the fundamental variables.

It was a detail beneath their level of concern.

For warriors with their level of seasoning, such strategic considerations were ingrained.

"Now—" Rex lowered his arms, his lips curling into a cynical smirk, "Shall we negotiate a bargain?"

...

"Who in the hell is that?" A figure draped in scarlet tunics and ornate golden plating strode through the pasture.

Every Gardener he passed offered a deep, reverent bow.

"Arrived from Zev’s direction, did he not?" his companion, clad in identical regalia, replied, amusement coloring his tone. "I suppose he has grown quite arrogant since his father ascended a rank." His smile turned predatory. "Even so, someone needs to school him in the proper hierarchy. A lesson he won't soon forget."

"And we have been granted the authority to provide that lesson," he added with a lecherous smirk.

They reached their destination in short order.

An ethereal, invisible sigil manifested upon a tree as they drew near, indicating they had arrived at the perimeter.

"This is the spot," the leader observed, glancing about. "This marks the boundary of my sanctioned territory."

"ZEV!" his colleague bellowed, calling out toward the land ahead. "Show your face! Stop cowering like a base coward!"

Though the meadow was designed to dampen sound, his voice carried with crystalline clarity, as if his words defied the natural laws that silenced others. "If you do not emerge at once, do not express surprise when we become uncivilized!"

Swish—!

Zev descended into the field across from them.

Both intruders immediately noted the tremor in his limbs and the way he tightly clenched his fists to conceal it. His failure to mask his fear was evident. They exchanged a look beneath their steel helms, matching grins spreading across their lips.

It appeared their supposed rival was not nearly as bold as they had imagined.

Zev stood shivering, much like a beast that understood its turn had come for the butcher’s knife.

And they were more than eager to fulfill that role.

"It is truly audacious of you to harass one of my Gardeners," the leader stepped forward, grounding himself precisely at the boundary line. His toes grazed the intangible border separating their domains. He did not cross, but the gesture served as a sharp reminder that territorial lines were often fluid.

Zev’s gaze dropped to the leader’s feet and remained fixed there.

The message had been received.

"I demand an explanation," the leader’s tone hardened. "For your blatant aggression."

"Your slave was an eyesore, and his presence irritated me," Zev retorted. "So, I disposed of him."

The attempt at mockery fell flat, his voice wavering, betraying his deep anxiety.

'Trying to front, are you?' the leader sneered inwardly. 'We shall see how long you can maintain that pathetic facade.'

"Oh? I never imagined you possessed the fortitude for such bold machinations." The companion stepped forward, manifesting a whip adorned with wicked barbs. "You are familiar with the bylaws... Executing or seizing another’s property warrants a territorial feud. Are you prepared to embrace that fate?"

"All bark and no bite," Zev flicked his wrist and turned to depart. "Begone if your only purpose here is to spew empty threats."

Rage flooded the companion’s features.

His face flushed a deep, violent red.

Never in his existence had he imagined that someone like Zev would dare to treat him with such blatant disregard.

Swoosh—!

Fury rendered patience impossible.

Like a shadow, he drew a dagger from his sleeve, launching it with lethal intent toward Zev.

At the final second, Zev tilted his head with sharp precision, allowing the blade to whistle past. Or so he believed; the enraged warrior suddenly materialized beside him, caught the returning blade, and unleashed a ferocious strike.

Slash—!

Zev managed to parry the blow with his armored forearms, but the sheer momentum sent him stumbling back.

"I invoke the Law of Battle!" the assailant declared with a maddened cackle, eyeing Zev as if he were a drooling simpleton. "If nothing else, sparking a conflict with me is the gravest mistake of your life. Whatever misery follows... will be a consequence of your own arrogance."

"Your inflated ego has finally blinded you, Zev." The second warrior also touched down nearby.

Both of them had now fully breached Zev’s territory.

Even so, Zev seemed oblivious to the gravity of his predicament.

He hauled himself to his feet, staring directly at the one who had attacked him.

"Caspian, since you have invoked the Law of Battle, utilize it to analyze me right now," Zev suggested, cradling his throbbing arm. "Observe your win probability against me. Determine for yourself if you have any hope of emerging victorious from this skirmish."

A frown darkened the warrior’s expression.

Heeding Zev’s advice felt like a humiliation, yet he opted to comply for the sake of certainty.

Sure enough, the instant his Law was engaged, his instincts ignited, screaming a desperate directive to flee.

Three distinct presences manifested around him.

Predators had been lurking in the shadows all along.

Only then did he realize that he and his cohorts had walked willingly into a trap.