Imprisoned for a Trillion Years, I Was Worshipped by All Gods!

Alan’s face remained expressionless, as if the death of the woman he had just slain was nothing more than a trivial incident—unworthy of even a passing thought.

At that moment, Lumen Sancta, his sacred staff, emitted a low hum. It swiftly darted over the woman’s corpse, expertly flicking up a small bundle that had been tucked beneath her robes and delivered it to Alan’s hand.

Alan weighed the pouch in his palm. Judging by its weight and shape, it was likely filled with mana stones or other valuable resources. Without hesitation, he threw it directly into his Hellspace storage.

Wealth should never be flaunted—especially in a place this dangerous. Carrying too many mana stones in the open was nothing short of inviting trouble.

Only after confirming that there were no other hidden attackers nearby did Alan leave the base of the cliff, continuing his search for his sister and the rest of his companions.

But shortly after his departure, two figures silently emerged from the shadows of the cliff base—one male, one female.

The man stood around 1.9 meters tall, an eye patch covering his left eye. The one that remained sharp and alert, glinted with a dangerously cold light. Most striking of all was the colossal greatsword strapped to his back—so wide and thick that it looked more like a slab of metal than a proper weapon.

Standing next to him was a petite young woman, barely 1.5 meters tall. She wore a fitted brown outfit and a face mask that obscured her features. Despite her delicate frame, the two poisoned daggers at her waist gleamed menacingly, catching the dim ambient light.

In a flash, the woman darted toward the fallen corpse of the blue-robed witch, crouching beside it with the grace of a seasoned predator. Her movements were smooth, her judgment swift.

After a brief inspection, she turned back to the one-eyed man and spoke in a low voice.

“Judging by this robe and the lingering mana traces… she must’ve been Mist Witch Monica, the famed prodigy of the Principality of Felice.”

“They say her talent was exceptional. Barely an adult and already tier-platinum, with both dark and ice elements under her command. Who would’ve thought someone of her reputation would meet her end here… and at the hands of that Alan, no less…”

The petite woman bit her lip in hesitation before adding, “She might not have been on par with the top-tier figures, but still… Her reputation, the bounty accumulating on Alan’s head, and how many people are trying to kill him—all point to one thing: Alan’s strength is beyond estimation.”

“I don’t think this bounty will be easy to claim. Maybe… we should turn back?”

The one-eyed man sighed softly, then slowly stepped forward and gently placed his large palm on the girl’s head, ruffling her hair with a brotherly gesture.

“Foolish little sister… Of course I know Alan is strong. But that’s exactly why we have to do this.”

“Why?” she asked softly.

The man’s expression turned complicated as he gazed up toward the top of the cliff. Due to the distance—and with only one functioning eye—he could barely make out a faint glimmer of light shining down from above before it, too, was swallowed by the shadows.

He exhaled a long breath.

“We’re not just after the bounty. We’re after recognition. Think about it… If someone like Monica couldn’t succeed, but we—just a pair of unknown siblings—did what she couldn’t, doesn’t that mean we’re stronger than her?”

“And once our names spread far and wide, backed by a healthy fortune, the Claude Family will no longer be just a name from dusty old records. It’ll become real. A powerful force in this world!”

He looked down at her, voice softening. “Little one… You’ve always said you wanted to go home. Well, this is our chance. Our road home lies ahead. Are you… going to give up now?”

The young woman furrowed her brows deeply, her expression tangled with inner conflict.

“But… but…”

“No buts!” the man barked, waving a hand to cut her off. “I know what you’re worried about. I’m not blind. Just the two of us won’t be enough to bring Alan down. That’s obvious.”

“But just like wolves call their pack to hunt, we don’t need to face him alone.”

“There are plenty of elite fighters in this ruin. All we need to do is offer a cut of the bounty, and I guarantee we’ll find allies. After all, anyone with a shred of self-awareness knows better than to challenge Alan alone. Not after the string of impossible victories he’s achieved so far.”

Seeing that her brother’s words were full of logic, the young woman no longer argued. She simply turned and followed him, the two of them vanishing once more into the darkness of the cliff’s base.

On the other side, Alan had already reached the opposite end of the cliff.

He was nearly frenzied as he scoured the surrounding terrain in search of tracks or signs of life.

From the moment he entered the ruins, all he had encountered were enemies. Not once had he seen a trace of his sister Isabella, the one he cared for more than anyone in the world.

How could he not worry?

Slowly, Alan’s consciousness began to blur. His eyes, now shot through with crimson veins, burned with desperation.

The only thing keeping him going now was a single, unrelenting thought: Find Isabella. Find the others.

Before long, a wide lake appeared before him.

Its surface shimmered with silver ripples, and thick clusters of reeds grew densely along the edges.

Under normal circumstances, the view would’ve been peaceful, even beautiful.

But to Alan’s eyes, this place was filled with danger.

Though his mind was muddled, his battle-honed instincts hadn’t dulled. Something was off about this lake. Very off.

Without wasting a second, Alan raised Lumen Sancta and thrust it fiercely into the nearest patch of reeds.

Boom! A muffled explosion sounded as the reeds burst apart. White tufts scattered into the air, drifting like snowflakes under a clear sky.

But mixed among those snowy tufts… were bright splatters of blood.

Another ambusher. Another attacker discovered.

The hidden enemy could only curse his luck. He had been so sure his concealment was flawless. How had Alan detected him?

But there was no time to think.

Lumen Sancta, as though possessed of its own will, didn’t give him a moment to escape. After slicing through the reeds, the staff-turned-blade continued its pursuit, relentlessly chasing the panicked assailant.

The attacker ran for his life, but he couldn’t shake it.

Then, the lake’s surface suddenly began to ripple wildly.

The attacker plunged into the water, thrashing about frantically—he couldn’t swim.

“P-please! I was wrong! Let me go! Let me—Ugh!”

Before he could finish, Lumen Sancta struck true, driving cleanly through his heart.

In this forsaken ruin, there were no laws. No trials. No mercy.

You killed, or you were killed.

There was no third option.

After dispatching the enemy, Lumen Sancta returned obediently to Alan’s hand.

Alan said nothing. He didn’t even bother to wipe the blood from the blade.

He gripped the weapon tightly and stepped into the lake.

Mana gathered beneath his feet, forming a solid platform that let him walk on the surface of the water—just as he had once walked through the air when he first reached tier-silver.

Step by step, Alan moved across the lake, as calmly as if strolling through his backyard.

But Lumen Sancta wasn’t idle.

From time to time, it would plunge into the depths beneath him—and each time it returned, the water around Alan would bloom with fresh, terrifying bloody patches…

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