Orson’s gaze fell on the blade that had accompanied him through countless battles, the Supreme Arcane Blade.
No relic in existence could replace its weight in his heart.
"Great Desolation Staff, release."
His voice rang low. From the void, twelve avatars emerged, each formed from Supreme Soul Discs that had devoured the laws of fallen titans.
[Mythic Eternal Great Desolation Staff]
Effect 1: Skill cooldown reduced by 40%
Effect 2: Casting efficiency increased by 50%
Eternal Rune Sigil I: \[Never Deteriorate] No Infinite Dimensions weapon can destroy it.
Eternal Rune Sigil II: \[Unbreakable] High chance to shatter any armor, weapon, or accessory.
Eternal Rune Sigil III: \[Inheritance – Eternal Heavenly Fire] Magic volume cap increased.
Six-piece Set Awakening Skill:
\[Eternal Supreme Soul Disc]
Effect: Summons avatars with 60% of the caster’s full attributes, analyzing the souls of fallen titans to replicate their signature skills and traits. Duration: 120 minutes. Cooldown: 50 minutes.
The prismatic text shimmered before him. The War Supreme title was now Eternal. His weapon had taken a massive leap in strength.
The attack speed boost alone meant his destructive power was rising into a different realm.
But this was only the beginning.
"Mythic Eternal Great Desolation Staff, lock complete."
"Transformed into Mid-Tier Godly Relic \[Chaos God’s War Staff]!"
Chaos flooded the staff. Radiance cascaded down its length like a rainbow. The power it shed was apocalyptic.
"One hell of an evil stick."
Orson’s eyes burned. The blade’s new staff form looked similar, but now bloated in size, a weapon so thick he could only grip it one-handed.
He checked the stats again. Attack speed and crits had barely shifted, but the base spell attack was boosted by 40%. With nearly half a million spell attack already on his panel, that meant this monstrosity in his hand pushed his numbers to 680,000.
Now layer that with the Chaos Godseal’s 120x crit multiplier.
Plus the passive fivefold divine crit bonus.
Orson ran the math. Failed. Even his divine brain circuits shorted.
All he knew was simple. He could kill whoever he damn well pleased. Any opponent, no matter who, reduced to trash.
A basic swing was a forbidden curse.
A forbidden curse could erase sky, land, and air.
But when his eager eyes scrolled down to the relic skill, his brow furrowed. "Wait. This skill... this is kinda busted, isn’t it?"
Mid Godly Relic Awakening Skill:
[Origin of Good and Evil]
Effect 1: Create two War Avatars with supreme divine power. Each starts at Level 1 and carries 1% of your full combat strength. They inherit all your skills, Divinity traits, combat experience, memories, will, and appearance. Cooldown: 50 years.
Effect 2: Recall avatars. Fuse into one. You gain all their memories, attributes, and growth.
Note 1: If an avatar dies, all their XP, loot, and memories are lost.
Note 2: Avatars have self-awareness. They can be forcibly recalled or destroyed via the staff, even across worlds.
Note 3: The effect is permanent. Until the avatars die, it cannot be undone.
"Two more copies of myself?"
Orson squinted, weighing each word. Updates are released by novelꜰire.net
Effect 1 was clear enough. Like a top-tier player spinning up two new accounts. Even at 1% power, they’d be ridiculous.
Effect 2? That was wild. Absorb their growth later to supercharge his own body.
His skin prickled. On paper, his War Avatars could hit mid-God rank just like him. Add them up, three mid-Gods together. Even a high God would think twice.
But there was a catch. "Self-awareness." The system flagged it plainly.
What if they refused orders? Did that mean he’d have to... kill himself?
The idea alone was absurd.
And fifty years of cooldown for each summon. If one got killed mid-grind, back to square one.
And hell, walking around with two clones of himself? That was bound to raise questions. People might think the Chaos God had a... particular kink.
Not to mention... Blank and Sienna. Three Orsons in one room.
He smirked. "Poor girl’s back might not survive."
Still, cooldowns only reset when you use them. Better to start early, grow them up, and cash out later.
He raised the staff. Chaos mist spilled down.
"Eh? What’s going on?"
He shook the staff, but only more mist poured out. No avatars appeared.
"Staff, you shy after the upgrade?" Orson muttered.
He’d been alone too long. To keep from ending up like DoomBringer, half-mad and mute, he’d taken to giving his gear nicknames.
His divine earrings? Little Brother Ear. Loved bedtime stories.
"Stop shaking me. I’m getting dizzy. Orson, I beg you—be a good man."
The voice snapped behind him. Orson flinched hard. He spun.
And there he was. Himself. Pale skin, white hair, bright as a beacon, radiating positive energy.
"Bro, give me a name. Anything. Just not something awful," the white-haired copy said, catching his breath and gripping Orson’s shoulder.
"The foresight... no wonder it’s me!"
Orson blinked as a naming prompt popped up. His brilliant idea: Invincible Clone No. 1.
"I’m not Clone No. 2."
The cold voice came next. Orson whipped around.
Another him. Black hair, bronze skin, sharp face, dripping malice.
The dark Orson’s eyes cut like knives. "He’s your good half. I... am your evil. One day I’ll surpass you, claim the throne of gods, and shatter this cursed order."
"Are you kidding me? Chill, bro." Orson frowned.
"Hey, hey, no fighting!" White Orson stepped between them, all smiles. "We’re on the same team."
"Shut your mouth or I’ll gut you."
"Violence solves nothing. Strength in unity, brothers!"
Orson stood frozen, jaw slack, watching himself argue with himself.
Worse, they sounded exactly like his own inner voices. White hair, good. Black hair, evil.
"Oh hell. I think I just cast the one skill I shouldn’t have."
He cursed inwardly. First day as a god, and he’d already spawned two lunatics he couldn’t leash.
This was going to be a problem.