King of Titans and Dragons
Chapter 1149 - 1149 1136 Bold Idea

Chapter 1149: Chapter 1136: Bold Idea Chapter 1149: Chapter 1136: Bold Idea Just dealing with a second-generation successor was already proving too much for him, and now another had emerged. Although this one appeared to be an Epic entirely different from Muria, it was precisely this fact that exacerbated the Desolate Evil God’s distress.

“Birds of a feather flock together, and people sort themselves into groups,” he understood this simple truth. Anyone who could mingle with the likes of Titans and the children of dragons was very likely to be from a background of significant prestige.

Considering the force attributes and form completely unrelated to Muria, it was evident that this might be another second-generation successor from a major race.

In plain terms, should a battle occur, he would find himself embroiled in conflict with two, no, wrong, three terrifying races that he was utterly incapable of confronting at the moment, courtesy of these two individuals in front of him.

Because the Titan and the child of the dragon were hybrids, a fusion of bloodlines from two different races.

Compared to the Desolate Evil God’s vexation at this moment, Muria felt rather helpless. He had only just begun when Michaela had shown up, not abiding by the agreement they had made before initiating conflict.

“You’ve broken our pact,” he said. “You promised to come out only after my altercation with the Evil God had concluded.”

“I did not break our agreement,” Michaela immediately rejected Muria’s accusation. She didn’t feel her actions violated their arrangement. “You’ve already been fighting the Evil God for quite some time. Now it’s my turn!”

“I’ve only just started,” Muria protested, angered. The Desolate Evil God was too pragmatic, even in preparing for battle, he was only going through the motions, focusing on how to leave this place.

In such a state, dealing with the Evil God to satiate himself was already quite difficult, not to mention adding Michaela to the mix. At that point, he would be completely deprived of any combat experience, let alone the chance to harness the pressure of the battle to merge and control the power of the Seven Desolation Demons.

“We’ve already been fighting for a while,” Michaela corrected her husband’s statement. She had witnessed everything clearly. Muria had already blown up the Evil God’s body once. What more did he want?

If they did it again, this Evil God, who was not much stronger than herself, would probably be crippled. Then, if it was her turn, she’d face an Evil God in a crippled state. How could that be acceptable?

“What do you want?” Muria asked with a headache.

“I will fight the Evil God, and you will stand here and watch,” she proposed.

“No way,” Muria rejected without a second thought. Was the surge of vitality at his back a joke? He was already in the zone and to merely stand by idly was unbearable. He needed to vent through battle.

…

Muria and Michaela’s conversation wasn’t intended to be concealed, so all of it was pondered by the Desolate Evil God, who now wondered if his string of bad luck was because of a curse incurred by destroying too many worlds.

He had now fully confirmed the identity of these two as second-generation successors, for they fought for the sake of battle, unlike normal Evil Gods.

The peers he had met at his level would go to great lengths to avoid conflict, even conceding a portion of their interests as long as it wasn’t too excessive.

In stark contrast to this couple in front of him, those of his kind clearly showed significant differences. They were not the same kind, isolated and alone, reliant on nothing but themselves, the destroyers of worlds—who had such luxury?

The Desolate Evil God affirmed his thoughts; he needed to leave this place as soon as possible and distance himself from these two privileged characters. Then, he would investigate to see if there was something wrong with himself.

Otherwise, why would his luck be so rotten as to encounter two beings he was completely unable to provoke? There must be a reason for this.

“Fine, you go fight him first, but once you show any sign of defeat, I will take your place,” he heard another statement that could provoke rage in any self-respecting creature, but the Desolate Evil God did not get angry.

There was no need. Why get angry? What good would it do him? None. In fact, it might lead to irrational actions driven by his emotions. Thus, he forcibly maintained his indifference, becoming a heartless Evil God.

As for pride and face? Heh, what was the point? Were they more important than his endless life? No, if he provoked a more potent being and was killed, that would be the end of everything. But if he endured and lived, the long passage of time would grant him infinite possibilities.

So having heard these words, he began to consider whether he should cooperate a little, meet their expectations, and then look for an opportunity to make a safe retreat. Otherwise, it would not be easy to escape.

…

“I always feel like something’s not quite right.”

Watching the war unfold before him, Muria’s brows furrowed slightly. Although the conflict between the two Epics seemed to fit the bill, Muria couldn’t shake off a nagging feeling of discomfort, as if he were watching a well-rehearsed play.

Indeed, in wars where two comparatively weak Epics clashed, it would rarely be a duel. Instead, a Void war would form around them as the core.

After obtaining the right to battle the Desolate Evil God, Michaela unleashed the Angel Legion equipped by the Blazing Sky God Race for her, forming a torrent of troops imbued with divine attributes that swept towards the Desolate Evil God.

Upon seeing this momentum, the Desolate Evil God understood that the upstart facing him meant serious business. There would be no mercy, and a single mistake could very well lead to his slaying right then and there.

On one side, there was no hesitation: the fight was full-on, with everything thrown into achieving the greatest victory possible. But the other side was timid, fearing a heavy hand might provoke a greater power lurking behind the adversary.

It was under these awkward circumstances that Michaela and the Desolate Evil God fought to an equal standstill, including the fight involving their respective minions.

The minions under the Desolate Evil God could truly be called a Destruction Legion. As for Michaela’s Angel Legion, well, it’s complicated. On one hand, they seemed somewhat lacking in battle prowess; on the other hand, they possessed remarkable combat strength.

Frankly, Michaela’s Angel Legion was no match for the Desolate Evil God’s Subordinate Army. One consisted of pampered ladies and gentlemen raised in luxury, while the other was made up of monsters indifferent to everything, including their own lives, having destroyed worlds multiple times.

Nevertheless, both sides were locked in a stalemate, with neither the Angel Legion nor the Desolate Beast Legion gaining the upper hand. This impasse was solely due to Muria’s previous engagement with the Desolate Evil God, which had severely weakened the latter’s forces.

The elite part of the minions brought by the Desolate Evil God had been obliterated by Muria when he swung a world at them.

In other words, Michaela’s Angel Legion was currently fighting to a draw against a ragtag collection of the Evil God’s Followers.

Seeing this situation, Muria didn’t feel too critical. The prowess of angels was well-known throughout the Erathia World, and he could not negate it simply because of the current circumstances.

The individual quality of angels was worthy of acknowledgment, their baseline parameters far outstripping those of the Evil God’s Followers. The absence of complete dominance was solely due to their lack of combat experience.

An actual mighty legion is forged through war after war, not trained in practice grounds.

“Boring!” Muria mused inwardly, watching the battle between the Desolate Evil God and Michaela. Combining the initial appearance and subsequent behavior of the Desolate Evil God, he could almost guess what this Evil God was up to.

“In the future, no need to announce one’s identity, just start the battle!” Muria sighed. He had lost hope that the Desolate Evil God would put enough pressure on him to master the power of the Seven Desolates Demons.

This thoroughly cowardly Evil God probably wouldn’t dare to strike him forcefully even if he possessed such power. Besides, he didn’t yet have that power. After all, an Evil God that merely schemes against the most minor worlds can only be so powerful.

“Is it possible to kill this Evil God?”

A bold idea surfaced in Muria’s mind. For him, this was a perfectly normal thought, as the benefits of killing an Epic were simply too great to ignore.

Firstly, the coveted carcass of an Epic, popular in any world, offered numerous uses for an Epic, serving as a prime material for world evolution as well as for weapon crafting.

Additionally, an Epic would possess either a Semi Plane or a fractured world, sometimes even one with fully-formed laws. At the time of an Epic’s fall, their controlled Semi Plane or world would become extremely vulnerable, easily annexed and assimilated.

Lastly, there was the long accumulation of treasures an Epic would have gathered, the specifics of which would vary depending on the strength and race of the Epic. Regardless, one could expect nothing less than respectable gains from an Epic’s collections.

In short, with every Epic slain, as long as one could digest everything left behind, one’s strength would climb in varying degrees. Epics were beings that could become ever stronger with battle, though this was only true for those beyond the Pseudo-realm.

Only an Epic that owned a world could assimilate the remains of a fallen Epic; the laws of a Semi Plane were too meager to impact an Epic’s physique.

However, few Epics chose to bolster their power by slaying their peers because it was an act of madness that could easily lead to being besieged.

In fact, for most Epics, becoming stronger was no longer their primary pursuit; a safe and stable existence was priority. Thus, such Epics would typically avoid battle or quickly eliminate any threats to their survival.

“Hmm, not very realistic!”

After pondering the feasibility of killing the Desolate Evil God, Muria realized that without seeking help from his seniors, the likelihood of defeating the Evil God in direct combat was very low. And the idea of asking elders for help was out of the question – he would never do such a thing.