The Bloodline System Chapter 1676: WAR AGAINST THE OUTWORLDLY

The words of the Overseer hit the gods like a thunderclap. His voice, sharpened by thousands of years of buried terror and sudden desperation, pierced their consciousness until survival became their only thought.

One after another, their celestial bodies began to shake... not out of respect for Gustav, but with a newfound, burning wrath.

Dread transformed into fury.

Fury shifted into bravery.

Bravery warped into a suicidal defiance.

Then, the onslaught began.

It started with a lone cry from the Deity of Tempests, a titan whose physical manifestation spanned the length of a galactic spiral arm. That single roar served as the spark for the others.

Stars flickered and grew dim.

Nebulae were contorted.

Cosmic energies surged forward—

—as every deity threw themselves into the conflict simultaneously.

The fabric of the universe was transformed into a war zone.

The initial wave of divine authority crashed toward Gustav like a tide of molten suns, a barrage so intense that any mortal observer's senses would have crumbled just from the sight. More than a dozen types of divine power merged together:

• Dark lightning originating from the Abyssal Sky • Blades forged out of frozen time • Lances made of pressurized planetary cores • Seas of fire so searing they burned the very concept of heat • Talons of warped space • Hexes spoken in ancient tongues that predated the galaxies

All arriving at once.

All coming from every possible angle.

All meant to wipe him from existence.

The strikes landed, and for a fleeting heartbeat, the entire cosmos disappeared behind a massive detonation. Light consumed the void. Space-time was torn asunder. Gravity buckled. Reality itself let out a cry of agony.

Eventually, the radiance faded.

Gustav remained standing.

His garments had not even shifted from the wind of the blast.

The deities, whose proportions were equal to constellations, began to shiver as they understood the grim reality:

He wasn't actually defending against their strikes.

He was simply so far above them that their efforts were inconsequential.

Before the next volley could be organized, Gustav acted.

There was no teleportation or vanishing act. He simply was where he wanted to be, completely disregarding the laws of distance.

He manifested next to the Deity of Tempests—a being made of stellar hurricanes spanning hundreds of light-years—and rested a hand against its rotating heart.

Then, he gave a casual shove.

A simple, disinterested push.

The god's massive frame imploded, crumpling like damp paper and spiraling inward until it was compressed into a tiny dot—then Gustav flicked it. It shot through a sequence of galaxies, shattering each one as if they were nothing but glass baubles.

The deity perished instantly.

Gustav inhaled the lingering essence as effortlessly as taking a breath of air.

The witnessing gods flinched back.

However, there was no room for hesitation.

Dozens more launched a second wave, this time with greater coordination and tactical focus.

The Deity of Gravity warped the surrounding space into a collapsing vacuum to crush Gustav.

The Deities of Life and Decay joined their essences to strike him from every possible timeline of evolution.

The Deity of Dimensions encased him within a folded pocket universe.

The Deity of Sound emitted a shriek that shattered planets throughout the cosmos.

The display was stunning.

Horrifying.

Grandose.

And completely futile.

Gustav lifted his hand and snapped his fingers.

Reality itself recoiled from the noise. The resulting shockwave reversed direction, collapsing back into the Deity of Sound and tearing his essence apart from the inside out.

Gustav then turned slightly and released a burst of phantom force—so surgical and precise that it hit the Deity of Dimensions with perfect accuracy, wiping her out before her cosmic spheres could even shatter.

With a quick motion, he grabbed a strand of gravity from the collapsing void and swung it like a lariat—looping three more gods together before shredding their forms like tattered fabric.

Each deity that fell was immediately absorbed into his being.

Their authorities.

Their domains.

Their lifeforce.

Their memories.

Gustav devoured every bit of it.

This was no longer a simple battle.

This was an ascension.

At that moment, thousands of divine underlings flooded the battlefield. These were the legions of various realms:

• Phantoms of shadow from the Dark Dimension • Behemoths of light from the Radiant Sanctum • Spirits of flame from the Infernal Core • Sentinels of crystal from the Frozen Tesseract • World-sized monsters from the Giant’s Trial Domain

Every god possessed their own world.

Every world had its own champions.

Every champion understood that this was total war.

Tens of thousands of celestial legions swarmed Gustav at once.

Nocturnis threw himself into the fight as well, releasing a darkness so profound it swallowed whole solar systems. His shadow loomed over the void as he let out a roar, sending waves of gloom to try and consume the Outworldly.

The Overseer joined the fray too, finally revealing the true depth of his power. His size increased until he stood even taller than Nocturnis, his energy carving rifts through distant star clusters.

Together, they turned the site into a chaotic storm of destruction.

Beams of divine power collided and canceled each other out.

Dimensions crashed into one another violently.

Time began to glitch.

Matter turned to liquid.

Stars were reduced to specks of dust under the immense pressure.

Every passing second felt as though the universe was on the brink of total annihilation.

Yet, Gustav remained unrivaled.

Although the sheer volume of enemies meant he finally began to take hits, the blows did nothing more than cause him to look around with a hint of annoyance.

He raised his palm and sent out a pulse.

A basic ripple of force.

It expanded like a soft wave, but everything it encountered—the mountains of darkness, the floods of fire, the crystalline legions, and the titans of light—was erased.

Not merely slain.

Not just broken.

They were unmade.

Even Nocturnis recoiled as his shadows were stripped away like wet paint from a wall.

The Overseer held his ground, teeth clenched in frustration.

The conflict had ceased to be a battle.

It was now a countdown.

The clock was ticking toward the extinction of the gods.

Every deity Gustav finished off added to the impossible growth of his strength. He integrated them perfectly, pulling their entire domains into his own soul.

His hair shimmered with streaks of alien color.

His skin took on a brighter, more divine luster.

His aura grew so heavy that reality itself trembled whenever he moved.

The word "strength" no longer felt adequate to define what he was becoming.

The remaining gods were filled with dread.

They could sense the change.

What Gustav represented now... was nothing compared to what he would become by the end of this war.

He wasn't merely recovering his old power.

He was evolving into something new.

And their own deaths were the fuel for his transformation.

As nearly half of the divine host lay dead, the Overseer realized that victory was impossible through direct assault.

At 50%, he was a monster, but at 100%, he would be a being on an entirely different plane of existence.

The Overseer had one last gambit to play.