Ian strolled toward the cages, eyeing the vast number of stunning goddesses inside with great interest. The collection was comprehensive, featuring deities from the Japanese, Indian, Roman, and Greek pantheons.
These goddesses, who had once stood high above all others, now looked at Ian with eyes filled with sheer terror and hatred, as if they were staring at the most horrific demon in existence.
The Emperor ignored Ian's crude tastes. His gaze was fixed on the massive star map projected before the bridge's command seat, eventually locking onto a coordinate where the divine light burned most brilliantly.
That was the heart of the Olympian pantheon—the legendary Holy Mountain.
He issued a new command: "Target: Mount Olympus. Execute total purification."
The massive hull of the *Indomitable Truth* shuddered slightly before it tore through the fabric of space, performing a super-long-distance warp jump.
When the warship stabilized, it was hovering above a strange dimensional space. Below them lay the so-called "Mount Olympus."
Looking through the viewports, the crew did not see the mist-shrouded, light-bathed holy mountain of myth.
Instead, they saw a twisted space built upon the rotting remains of a colossal creature of unimaginable size.
Countless energy-pulsing pipes, resembling the tentacles of parasites, were rooted deep into the ley lines of the continent below and stretched out into the void, relentlessly siphoning the faith of the European continent and the psychic energy of humanity.
The so-called Divine Kingdom was nothing more than a lavish and cruel farm built upon the corpse of an ancient Titan.
Having lost Zeus and the other major gods, the deities remaining on Mount Olympus, including the sun god Apollo, were both shocked and enraged.
They quickly rallied all remaining minor gods, demigods, heroes, and various mythical creatures to form a makeshift defensive line.
Apollo erupted in a blinding radiance. Personally piloting his solar chariot drawn by flaming divine horses, he transformed into a golden meteor, attempting to use the power of the sun to incinerate the mortals who dared invade the divine realm.
"Oh? The sun?"
A booming voice echoed from the *Indomitable Truth*.
Primarch Vulkan, the giant who presided over fire and forging and stood as imposing as a mountain range, leaped directly from the warship.
His massive frame blocked the path of the chariot. He extended a giant hand, effortlessly shielding himself from the light of the solar chariot—light that should have been capable of melting everything in its path.
Vulkan grinned, a look of pure mockery on his face. "Kid, you call this pathetic bit of light and heat a 'sun'?"
Before the words had even faded, he swung the rune-carved warhammer, "Dragon's Fall," from his back, bringing it down with crushing force upon the charging solar chariot.
*BOOM!*
With a thunderous crash, Apollo's prized chariot and his flaming horses were shattered into a million pieces, turning into a rain of burning debris.
Vulkan reached out and snatched Apollo, who had been thrown haphazardly from the wreckage, right out of the air.
He tossed the unconscious Apollo to the Custodes who had arrived behind him. They bound him in specialized shackles with a level of efficiency that suggested they were merely processing parts on an assembly line.
Mount Olympus fell into absolute chaos.
The Emperor's orders were crystal clear in everyone's minds: the purge had officially begun.
The Nightwatch elites, including Lin Qiye and Xia Simeng, fought side-by-side with Nezha and Yang Jian as they stormed the temple complex. Their targets were the scattering minor gods, demigods, and mythical constructs.
"ROAR—!"
A Chimera with the head of a lion, the body of a goat, and the tail of a snake roared, spewing torrents of flame to block Lin Qiye's path.
Lin Qiye didn't flinch. The combat bloodline within him, derived from the module, boiled with intensity. Gripping his iron staff, he charged forward, actively meeting the monster's assault.
His footwork was wild and lacked any formal pattern, yet it aligned perfectly with some profound, mystical truth.
He swung the staff, and the air exploded with a sonic boom, instantly smashing the Chimera's lion head into a pulp.
The monster shrieked in pain; its goat body exhaled a toxic mist while its snake tail lashed out like lightning, aiming for Lin Qiye's throat.
Lin Qiye ducked low, flicking the iron staff upward in a precise strike to the snake's vital point. With a sharp *crack*, the snake's head slumped lifelessly.
He spun upward, sweeping the staff in a wide arc, and cleanly crushed the final goat head.
The entire process was fluid and effortless, possessing a certain lethal beauty. Nearby, Nezha, gliding on his Wind and Fire Wheels, knocked a demigod hero flying with a thrust of his spear. He glanced at Lin Qiye and muttered under his breath, "This style... why is he starting to look more and more like that mischievous monkey?"
Suddenly, a sense of extreme danger enveloped Lin Qiye.
At the highest peak of the temple, Artemis, the goddess of the hunt and the moon, drew her silver longbow.
Her expression was ice-cold, and her silver pupils held no emotion—only the absolute calm of a predator that had locked onto its prey.
An arrow was nocked on the string. The arrowhead shimmered with the clear brilliance of moonlight, imbued with the Law of "Sure-Hit."
The bowstring sang.
The moment the arrow left the string, it vanished from the physical world. In the next instant, it appeared directly before Lin Qiye's forehead. It ignored the constraints of space, leaving him no room to block or dodge.
It was a death blow.
Lin Qiye's pupils contracted. He could sense death, but he was unable to react.
Suddenly, a hand appeared before him out of nowhere, casually catching the tip of the Law-imbued arrow between two fingers. The staggering divine power and the Law of Sure-Hit were instantly annihilated.
Ian turned his head to look at Artemis atop the temple, a friendly smile on his face. "Little sister, shooting things randomly is a very bad habit."
The coldness on Artemis's face shattered instantly, replaced by creeping horror.
Ian flicked his finger.
The Law arrow flew back toward its origin at a speed far exceeding its arrival.
Artemis didn't even have time to react before the arrow pierced through her shoulder, pinning her firmly to the temple column behind her. Divine blood flowed down the shaft of the arrow, staining her armor red.
With a single step, Ian appeared before the column. He circled the immobilized Artemis a couple of times, admiring her like a piece of art, making soft "tsk tsk" sounds.
Under the terrified gaze of every remaining god and human, Ian casually snapped his fingers.
A flash of light erupted.
The tall, holy Moon Goddess, along with her silver armor and longbow, rapidly shrank. Finally, she was no larger than the palm of a hand.
Ian caught her and held her up to his eyes for inspection.
"Not bad. A limited edition 'Moon Goddess Artemis.' I'll take it!" He whistled and waved his hand, summoning a shimmering cabinet. He tossed the figure inside.
Inside the cabinet, a large number of similar dolls were already displayed, one of which was the previously captured Athena.
This scene became the final straw that broke the will of the Olympian gods.
This was no longer a battle, nor a war, nor even a slaughter.
It was a higher-dimensional mockery and harvest. Their Divine Sparks, their dignity, and everything they took pride in were nothing more than a joke to their opponent.
The remaining gods of Olympus let their weapons slip from their hands, their faces devoid of everything but numb despair.
High in the sky, the main cannon of the *Indomitable Truth* began to charge. However, what it fired was not a destructive beam of energy, but a pure, white pillar of light that seemed capable of correcting every error in existence.
The "Reality Stabilization Beam" struck the core of the Olympian Divine Kingdom's parasite attachment to the Earth's dimension.
The Purge of the False Gods
There was no explosion, no deafening roar. Instead, the divine realm began to peel away from the physical world layer by layer, stripping away the facade to reveal a grotesque truth: it had been constructed upon the skeletal remains of ancient Titans.
Just as the realm was about to disintegrate entirely into shards of void, the Emperor, seated upon his throne, let out a barely perceptible frown.
Within the fragments of collapsing spatial laws, his psychic senses caught a flicker of something that did not belong to this universe—a trace of energy that was faint, yet hauntingly familiar. It was the scent of Chaos.
The Emperor's expression darkened, growing grave.
"Great Sage," he commanded, his voice echoing coldly across the bridge. "Collect spatial samples and analyze the residue of that anomalous energy."
He realized that the "gods" of this world were likely not the ultimate source of power. Behind them stood something older, more familiar, and far more loathsome.
The analysis results were quickly brought before him, but the energy residue was too sparse to trace back to its origin.
Shifting his gaze to the holographic star map, the Emperor locked onto another continent shrouded in a similar divine radiance.
"Target: the Nile River basin."
"These parasites who fancy themselves gods are likely nothing more than the minions of Chaos. If that is the case..."
"...then they shall all be purged."
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