Against The True Gods

Today was an important day. Today was the Clan Gathering.

In the middle of a snow-filled desert, a grand arena of white marble stood proudly, its imposing structure stark against the chaotic snowstorms swirling and roaring around it.

The marble shimmered faintly under the filtered sunlight, a beacon of civilization amidst the untamed elements.

Within the arena's vast stands, countless groups gathered, numbering in the millions.

This was no ordinary gathering—it was the culmination of years of preparation and ambition. Subordinate clans of the Timeless Alliance huddled together, their gazes filled with hope and desperation.

For them, the stakes were immense. If their Heirs were chosen as Scion, the fates of their lowly clans would transform overnight. Power, influence, and resources awaited those who ascended through their heirs.

Above the arena, five floating structures hovered ominously, their tinted windows obscuring any view of the occupants inside.

These structures housed the members of the five Heavenly Clans, their auras palpable even through the distance. The sheer pressure emanating from them cast an oppressive net over the world, blending seamlessly with the howling snowstorms to create an atmosphere tense beyond belief.

Suddenly, in the arena's center, a woman appeared.

Her presence was magnetic. She wore long, layered purple robes, her figure adorned with glittering jewels and artifacts that clinked softly with her movements.

Her black lipstick curled into a sultry smile, her dark blue hair cascading in scintillating waves down her back. Her amethyst eyes sparkled mischievously, while her devilish figure radiated confidence and allure, enough to sway even the purest of saints.

With a theatrical flourish, she spread her arms wide, her jewelry chiming melodiously. Her voice boomed across the arena, rich and sultry, carrying effortlessly despite the roaring winds.

"Welcome! I am Tasha Renala, and I will be your guide for this generation's Clan Gathering!"

Her words were poised to continue when, suddenly, the world darkened.

The sun disappeared, obscured by an enormous entity that cast a shadow over the arena. A suffocating aura descended like a tidal wave, slamming into all present—even those within the floating structures of the Heavenly Clans.

Tasha froze, looking skyward, her amethyst eyes widening in shock. Hovering above was a colossal eagle, its wings spanning so wide they seemed to blot out the heavens. Atop its back stood Zao, his figure imposing, his gaze cold and indifferent as it swept across the arena.

'Where is—?'

Before Tasha could finish her thought, she felt it. Behind her. Slowly, she turned, her breath catching in her throat.

Caine stood there.

He wore a loose, grey changpao that billowed slightly in the wind. His long hair, tied into a single braid, swayed gently behind him. His expression was calm, his silver eyes sharp yet serene, as if he were already in control of everything around him.

Tasha, known for her towering presence, was rendered diminutive before him. At nearly six feet six, she was accustomed to looking down on most men. But in front of Caine's towering six-foot-eleven frame, she felt utterly small. His shadow eclipsed her entirely, swallowing her in its dominance.

Caine glanced upward toward the floating structures, where the ancestors of the Heavenly Clans resided, and offered a faint smile. His gaze then returned to Tasha.

"I don't have time to waste," he said, his voice calm yet carrying an undeniable authority.

"Summon all your Heirs."

Tasha's first instinct was to object, to assert control over the proceedings, but as her eyes met Caine's, a sharp, invisible dagger seemed to pierce her very soul. Her resolve shattered instantly, leaving her like a lifeless puppet.

Without a word, she waved her hand, and a moment later, all the Heirs appeared in the arena.

The young heirs, now standing in a confused crowd, looked around in shock. This was not how the Clan Gathering was supposed to unfold. Traditionally, they would remain in a pocket realm, summoned one by one for their matches. Why were they all here together?

Among them stood the Heirs of the Five Heavenly Clans, their gazes burning with determination. Mental transmissions immediately flooded their minds, explaining the situation.

Caine's gaze shifted from Tasha, who collapsed in a faint, her mental state too fragile to endure further. With a flick of his hand, Caine sent her body soaring gently upward into the floating structure occupied by the Renala Clan.

His focus turned to the crowd of young heirs.

Their average strength was astonishing; most of them were half-step Sages. This level of power wasn't normal. These heirs were the pride of their clans, nurtured and refined with every resource imaginable. They represented their clans' last hopes, their sacred champions.

But to Caine, they were potential.

More specifically, they were perfect candidates for his army.

While his army would primarily consist of non-humanoid summons, if he were to acquire humanoid ones, why not start here? These heirs, with their exceptional potential and training, were ideal.

Caine raised his hand. A swirl of thick neutral Qi, bolstered by earth intent, surged forward and encased the five Heavenly Clan Heirs, separating them from the rest of the group.

He fixed his gaze on them. "I value fairness," he began, his tone calm yet laced with an edge of menace. "But I also don't care for any of you. So I'll give you a chance—an unfair one, but a chance nonetheless."

His voice carried across the arena, silencing even the snowstorm.

"If any of you can touch my skin, even once, I will forfeit my life," he declared. "I swear on the honor of the ancestors above. If I lie, they'll kill me personally."

Gasps erupted from the stands, disbelief rippling through the spectators.

"I won't move. I won't use Qi. I won't attack," Caine continued. "You have thirty seconds. Use whatever you want, whatever you need. But if the thirty seconds pass, and I remain untouched…"

He didn't need to finish the sentence. His arms crossed over his chest, his towering figure exuding unshakable confidence.

The Heirs looked toward the floating structures, seeking approval.

"I'll allow it," a deep, wizened voice echoed from above.

That was all they needed.

Weapons and artifacts appeared in their hands, their auras igniting with overwhelming force. In an instant, the arena's center became a chaotic swirl of energy as attacks flooded toward Caine from every direction.

Caine smiled faintly, the scene nostalgic. It almost reminded him of the Samsara Trials, where he had faced hordes of fallen gods.

Almost.

BANG!

A deafening explosion of pressure erupted from Caine, shattering every attack in an instant. The heirs fell to their knees, their weapons slipping from their trembling hands.

The oppressive force rippled outward, reaching the stands. The spectators collapsed one by one, driven to their knees by the overwhelming weight. Even the occupants of the floating structures faltered, though the ancestors remained upright, their gazes sharp.

Caine stood tall, his silver eyes burning like imploding stars. Reflected within them was the image of his Dragon-Coiled Star, flickering with wrath and absolute dominion.

Today was a day of reckoning—a day of untamed, absolute dominance. And Caine would ensure it was unforgettable.

The ground trembled beneath him, the air thick with the sound of a coming storm.

RUMBLE.