CHAPTER 340: CHAPTER340-FILTH OF GOD

Far to the north of the Human Empire, within the solemn walls of Winterhold Castle, the Human Emperor stood before his scribes and commanders. His face was carved with grim resolve, his eyes reflecting the weight of an entire race.

News had just reached him of the terrifying substance called the Filth of God. Though little was understood of its nature, its mere presence was enough to strike dread into the hearts of even the most seasoned warriors and scholars. The Emperor wasted no time. Immediately, he issued proclamations across every city, fortress, and stronghold of mankind.

The decree was brutally simple, stripped of flowery words or excessive caution:

[Proclamation of the Human Emperor: Do not touch that foul corruption.][Proclamation to the Myriad Races: Do not touch that filth under any circumstances.]

He chose such blunt language for a reason—there was no room for ambiguity. This was not a matter for scholarly debate or careful persuasion. This was a matter of survival. Every creature, from peasant to knight, from sorcerer to demigod, had to understand in the clearest terms: this corruption spelled doom.

Even though the Human Emperor himself did not yet fully comprehend what the Filth of God truly was, he knew it was dangerous beyond imagination.

He had attempted to use his Appraisal Skill, the Art of Identification, to unravel its mysteries. But to his surprise and frustration, the skill had failed. No information could be gleaned, no truth extracted. The substance resisted scrutiny, as though it belonged to a reality beyond mortal comprehension.

And it was not just him. Even the demigod-ranked awakeners—beings whose perception pierced veils hidden from lesser creatures—could not discern its essence.

Daniel alone, wielding the power of the Eye of Insight, could glimpse fragments of its truth. Yet even he admitted that it was the first time his Eye had failed to yield a complete picture. The all-seeing vision, which could normally dissect gods and unravel mysteries, faltered in the presence of this corruption.

That alone spoke volumes.

Still, there were a handful of demigod-ranked beings who had some inkling of the Filth’s nature. They needed no further warning. At the sight of it, they had fled to the farthest corners of the abyss, unwilling to even glance at it too long. To them, the filth was not treasure, not a weapon, not a mystery to probe—it was death itself.

In the Abyss

The abyss groaned and twisted as more of the Filth of God poured downward, dripping like endless poison from the crumbling surface of Apollo’s sun.

Some abyssal creatures, unable to avoid it, were splattered by the black sludge. The transformation was immediate and grotesque. Their bodies warped, their forms mutating into hideous abominations. Tentacles sprouted where limbs had been, eyes wept black ichor, and their screams turned into gurgling madness.

Daniel, watching the descent, turned to his ally. His voice was sharp but edged with concern.

"Jarvan, this corruption—this Filth of God—it won’t affect you, will it?"

From Dark Star Jarvan came a steady ripple of mind power, calm amidst chaos.

"No," he answered, his tone resonating like an echo from a void. "It will not harm me. My mission is not merely to replace the fallen Apollo. It is also to seal away portions of the Filth itself. You see it too, don’t you? The Filth is ruin incarnate. Its presence alone threatens this world’s survival."

Daniel gave a small nod. He had already sensed as much through his Psychic Perception. Jarvan’s claim was true—this darkness, though bound to the fate of the gods, was also part of his destiny to contain.

But that did not solve Daniel’s own dilemma. The abyss continued to drown under streams of corruption. The Eye of Insight had revealed little. The filth resisted his ice, ignored his freezes, and continued its descent unimpeded.

If it could not be stopped, then perhaps it must be contained.

Daniel exhaled and shifted his thinking. If suppression failed, then he would take a different approach. Collection.So long as he did not make direct contact with it, there should be no immediate danger.

Resolute, he summoned the skill Forceful Convergence. A wave of power surged out, bending the abyss like a river’s current. One by one, the scattered rivulets of Filth were dragged together, funneled toward the entrance of his half-plane space.

In moments, the streams converged, forming a foul black creek that flowed unnaturally into his containment.

Daniel’s expression remained grim. For all his efforts, unease gnawed at him. He knew, without doubt, that this corruption was not simple at all.

It was tied to the Gods of the Reverse World.

Its resistance to his freezing told the truth: this was a god-tier phenomenon, far beyond mortal meddling.

Above them, Apollo continued to unravel. The sun’s body bled corruption in torrents, faster and faster. His gravity was broken, his fire extinguished. The Filth surged out uncontrollably, streaming down like rivers of darkness.

Apollo had surrendered his resistance. And yet, rather than quiet despair, he now shouted with manic frenzy.

"You fools! You understand nothing!""At last, I see the meaning of Lady Aurelia’s will! I was never abandoned! Never!""My true mission is clear now! I am the vessel, the herald! My purpose is to bring the Filth of God into the Origin Lands!"

His voice was half laughter, half shriek, echoing madness into the abyss.

Daniel’s Relentless Assault

Though Apollo had ceased resisting physically, Daniel did not stop. With a single command, he summoned forth another storm of destruction—Meteor Arrow Rain.

Countless blazing arrows fell upon the sun’s body, each one infused with Mind Hunt. The arrows tore into his form, not to destroy the flesh, but to gnaw at his mind. Apollo’s sanity value plummeted. The measure of his willpower was breaking apart. His spiritual corruption numbers soared higher and higher.

Yet Apollo did not flinch. His descent into madness had rendered him impervious to further pollution. His spirit had already shattered; there was nothing left for Daniel’s arrows to destroy.

Daniel’s lips tightened into a faint frown.

It was true—there was little point in trying to destabilize Apollo further. The sun god was already far gone, deranged beyond repair.

The Conversation

Daniel turned to the woman at his side. His gaze lingered on the rivers of corruption spilling endlessly from the star.

"Milla," he murmured, his voice weighted with worry. "These Filth of God... they are not going to be easy to deal with."

Milla’s expression darkened. She nodded gravely.

"They are not just difficult," she said. "They are a nightmare. Even the gods themselves fear this corruption. It is their poison, their shadow, their nemesis."

"For now, our only viable option is to seal them within half-planes, locking them away as best we can. That is the most practical solution available to us."

Daniel accepted her words with a slow nod, though his mind still raced. After a pause, he asked, his voice edged with unease:

"Milla, tell me... what happens if a being is corrupted by the Filth? What is the true consequence?"

He remembered the moment in the frozen time stream when a demigod-ranked awakener had touched the Filth and immediately mutated, consumed by madness. Even the Eye of Insight had been unable to reveal much more than fragments of that horror.

His deepest fear lingered: that Aurelia herself might use the Filth as a medium to descend upon the Continent of Myriad Races.

Milla’s face hardened. Her voice carried the weight of knowledge passed from the divine.

"If one is contaminated by the Filth, then fragments of the Reverse Gods awaken within them."

"Lady Aurelia once explained: the Reverse Gods are born alongside the creation of gods. They are like shadows, half-born existences. We live in what they call the Surface World. The Reverse World is its hidden mirror, deeper, darker, and far more dangerous."

"When a being ascends to godhood, they inevitably forge a connection to their corresponding Reverse God. But the domains of each are opposite, irreconcilable. They are locked in eternal conflict. One always seeks to devour the other."

"From a certain perspective, a complete Reverse God is more powerful than even the greatest of gods."

Her eyes narrowed.

"Yet a god who could devour their Reverse counterpart would surpass the divine tiers entirely. They would ascend into an unknown, unimaginable tier of existence."

Her voice softened, heavy with inevitability.

"But such things remain theoretical. In truth, no god has ever succeeded. Gods spend all their strength merely resisting corruption. To destroy their Reverse self? Impossible. Instead, they are eroded, consumed little by little."

"These rivers of filth are precisely that—the tools of the Reverse Gods to infiltrate and erode the divine. Even the gods dread them."

She looked at Daniel meaningfully.

"So tell me... if even gods fear this, what hope do ordinary creatures have should they dare touch it?"

Her words lingered like frost.