Reborn with Infinity Skill Points, I Enslaved All Universes
Chapter 184 -184-The Extermination of the Artists

Chapter 184: Chapter184-The Extermination of the Artists

Winterhold Castle.

Daniel’s true body wandered leisurely through the castle, his senses quietly extending outward.

With a gentle sweep of his perception, he could clearly feel that over 99% of the population within the entire castle were now his devout believers.

As for the remaining 1%, they were currently rushing with all their strength toward the Infinite Divine Temple, eager to convert.

Both the old city and the newly constructed districts were undergoing rapid expansion, but even so, the pace could not keep up with the sheer influx of people migrating here.

The most immediate sign of this overpopulation was the skyrocketing price of real estate.

Properties that had once cost a mere one million gold coins per unit had now soared to a staggering ten billion gold coins each.

And even at that outrageous price, houses were still in short supply.

Buyers were scrambling, often offering even higher bids to secure a property.

The 1,000-fold increase in price gave everyone the uncanny feeling that this might just be the beginning of an even greater surge.

When Daniel received this piece of news, the corners of his mouth couldn’t help but twitch.

He never would’ve imagined that in this fantasy world, a magical version of a real estate bubble would emerge.

After all, this world was vast—absurdly vast—and the human population had not even begun to approach its saturation point.

Technically, land and housing here should’ve been dirt cheap.

Yet the real estate market in Winterhold Castle had ballooned so rapidly, it gave Daniel an odd sense of familiarity—as if he’d returned to the world he once knew.

In fact, Winterhold Castle had now grown into an international metropolis of sorts.

Walking its streets, one would encounter not only humans, but also a plethora of other races.

Beings from all corners of the world had flocked here.

What Daniel found most surprising, however, was how some religious sects had even voluntarily abandoned their original deities, converting en masse to the Infinite Divine Temple.

And in their eagerness, many priests hadn’t even bothered changing out of their former ceremonial robes.

They still wore the sacred vestments of other gods while kneeling in the Infinite Divine Temple, praying fervently to a new divine authority.

Daniel couldn’t help but shake his head.

"Seriously, are you guys doing abstract art now?" he thought.

He found their actions utterly absurd.

These people were treating their former faiths like disposable clothes—not even worth properly discarding before switching loyalties.

It was utterly disrespectful to the gods they once served.

Thankfully, the existing gods didn’t seem to care.

If they did, Daniel knew he would’ve landed himself in unimaginable trouble.

At his current stage, he still lacked the power to openly challenge any of the gods.

And he wasn’t stupid enough to try.

His path was clear: continue developing, grow stronger, and avoid unnecessary confrontations with deities. That was his survival strategy.

That said, Daniel did urgently need believers.

And if the gods weren’t going to intervene or mind, he certainly had no issue accepting the worship of these wayward converts.

In the City of Artists.

A vast coalition of allied races had already set foot on this cursed land.

And leading the vanguard of this united force were none other than the surviving gnomes.

"You damned bastards! Taste the fury of our gnomish steam bombs!"

An armada of floating airships blocked out the sun, hovering ominously above the City of Artists.

The sky rumbled with the hum of machinery and vengeance.

"Bomb them to hell!" came the furious order from Pixis, the last elder of the gnome race.

With his command, a barrage of explosives rained down upon the sleeping Artists. Though the bombs lacked the devastating power of a Primordial Core Weapon, the sheer saturation of the attack was enough to reduce the Artist stronghold to a pile of burning, bloody wreckage.

These bombs had been the gnome race’s last reserve—treasured weapons preserved through centuries.

Now they were all unleashed in a single, vengeful act of retribution.

Watching as the Artist bodies were shredded into pieces before his eyes, Elder Pixis wept openly.

"My kin... I have finally avenged you."

In truth, when Pixis first heard the news that Daniel had discovered the City of Artists and wiped out their elite forces, he had felt an immense sense of gratitude.

Without Daniel’s intervention, the gnomes would’ve never had the chance to retaliate.

Their ancient grudge might have remained forever unresolved.

Pixis’s wish was simple: to send every last Artist straight to hell.

Living under the domain of the humans, he was among the first to receive word of the Human Emperor’s official decree—to annihilate the remnants of the Artist cult.

That was all the motivation Pixis needed.

He approached the Emperor and personally requested to be included in the assault on the City of Artists.

This mission was his chance, his long-awaited opportunity to repay a debt of blood.

And he was grateful—deeply grateful—to Daniel for allowing him this moment.

Now, Pixis could only do one thing: kill as many Artists as he could.

Each life he took was an offering to the memory of his people.

Manning the airships were the last remaining gnome survivors.

Upon hearing that vengeance was within reach, they had rallied with everything they had, arriving at the battlefield with unprecedented urgency.

Pixis, once the second-highest authority in his race, knew all too well that the gnomes were no longer the powerful civilization they once were.

If they hoped to survive the coming millennial apocalypse, they would need to depend on the humans.

As the bombs continued to fall, the few remaining Artists were completely annihilated.

Before long, the Human Emperor received word that even the deepest, most well-hidden Artist sanctuaries had been rooted out and destroyed.

There were no survivors.

To the many races, the Artists represented one of the gravest threats to the world.

Therefore, their extermination had to be absolute.

No seed of this evil could be allowed to survive.

The cooperative spirit in this campaign was unlike anything seen in recent memory. Powerhouses from every race had participated, each lending strength to the cause.

None dared leave even a single Artist alive.

The gnomes had learned this lesson the hard way—and the rest of the world was determined not to repeat their mistake.

Setting aside the communicator, the Human Emperor departed for the library of Winterhold Castle.

At this moment, the greatest minds of the Royal Society were gathered there, combing through ancient texts and conducting divinations.

The Emperor’s objective was clear: he needed a Seer.

After conducting another round of 100 divinations, he finally let out a long sigh of relief.

The results were unanimous—The Artists had been completely eradicated.

And yet, even with such assurances, a shadow of doubt lingered in his heart.

He recalled that during the last campaign against the Artists, the same conclusion had been drawn through divination—only for hidden remnants to resurface later.

Would history repeat itself?

Perhaps it was time to speak with Daniel again.

Judging by Daniel’s attitude, the extermination of the Artists seemed all but certain.

Unless there were extraordinary circumstances, the threat had been neutralized.

Still, the Human Emperor preferred to err on the side of caution.

He decided he would speak with Daniel soon to confirm the situation.

But another concern was beginning to fester in his heart.

Daniel was no longer merely a regional warlord.

He held noble titles among many different races.

The Human Emperor suspected that Daniel might be growing increasingly dissatisfied with his current role.

After all, with the rise of the Infinite Divine Temple, Daniel’s influence had soared to unimaginable heights.

He could now rally all races with a single command, while the Human Emperor was still confined to managing the affairs of his own people.

Even he had to admit—Daniel’s sway had already far surpassed his own.

Just as this uneasy thought surfaced, the Emperor’s communicator buzzed with an incoming message.

He picked it up and read it.

After a brief pause, he couldn’t help but twitch at the corners of his mouth.

He never would’ve imagined... that Pixis, the gnome elder who had once been proud and aloof, would now appear so obedient and well-behaved.