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

The armored man was no fool—nor was he deaf. Though visibly irritated by Francis’s mocking tone, he had still caught bits of what the boy had said.

His gaze swept quickly across the battlefield, and then—his entire body froze.

Everywhere he looked, the bodies strewn across the ground bore the unmistakable signs of high-level magical cultivation.

Almost all of them were Legendary mages.

A cold shiver crept up his spine.

Without another word, he moved. Slowly, deliberately, he strode toward a silver-haired youth who had accompanied the now-dead elder in the navy blue robes.

Moments later, he stood before him and grabbed him by the collar, yanking him up from the ground.

“Grey, what the hell happened here?”

The armored man’s voice was low and gravelly, thick with suspicion.

The youth—Grey—kept his head down, eyes flickering toward the red-haired woman not far away.

He wanted to scream, to beg for help, to cry out for the armored man to avenge their fallen mentor and slaughter every last soul in the room.

But under the piercing, frigid gaze of the red-haired woman, he couldn’t get a single word out.

His throat was clenched, locked down by terror. His body shook uncontrollably, and all he could do was whimper softly—like a stray dog that had just been abandoned and kicked into the gutter.

“Useless coward,” the armored man growled, throwing Grey to the ground with visible disgust. “You call yourself a soldier of the NK Kingdom and you can’t even report what happened?”

He turned, preparing to question the red-haired woman directly—

But in that single breath of distraction, the heavy helmet shielding his face was sliced clean in half.

Clang—clang!

The broken pieces hit the ground with a metallic echo, scattering small stones and dust into the air.

Stunned, the armored man instinctively reached up and touched his face. His fingers came away slick with something warm and wet.

Blood.

He stared down at his hand in disbelief. Somewhere, somehow, she had wounded him.

He turned slowly, dreading what he would see—and sure enough, the red-haired woman had already appeared behind him, her crimson longsword once again pressed coldly against his throat.

Her voice was calm, almost casual.

“So… first the old one, now the young one? Alright then. I’ll make it easy for you. I’ll let you go back and fetch reinforcements. Hell, bring everyone your NK Kingdom has who thinks they can fight. Call them all in. I’m in a hurry, so I’d rather take care of all of you at once.”

She yawned as she said this, as if she were more bored than threatened—completely unbothered by the nation-sized force looming behind this man.

“Outrageous!” the man roared, trembling with fury. “How dare you—a mere woman—insult the NK Kingdom like this?!”

He reached out and grabbed the blade of her sword, trying to wrench it from her hands.

But the moment his fingers touched the weapon, his gauntlets turned yellow-hot.

Bright, glowing lines spread like cracks through the metal, and blackened flakes of oxidized debris began peeling away, flaking to the ground like ashes.

The steel itself was burning.

Agony twisted the man’s face. His arms had become traps of superheated metal, and his screams broke through clenched teeth.

At the last second, with a burst of desperation, he activated a failsafe mechanism—and severed both his own arms.

With a scream, he stumbled backward, falling to his knees. Blood poured from the armored stumps at his shoulders.

The red-haired woman chuckled coldly.

“You really shouldn’t touch things you don’t understand,” she said. “You brought that on yourself.”

The armored man lifted his head, his eyes now bloodshot with rage and humiliation.

“You… you meant what you said just now?” he asked, his voice strained but clear.

“Of course,” she replied proudly. “I never go back on my word. Send as many of your people as you want. Bring your best. I’ll kill them all the same. One swing each.”

The man narrowed his eyes. “Then you’ll pay for your arrogance.”

He clenched what remained of his muscles, not to attack, but to channel mana into his own stomach.

His body convulsed violently, and a bulge began traveling up his throat. He gagged once, then again—and with a sickening retch, he spat out a stone embedded with glowing runes.

A rune stone, covered in ancient NK sigils.

Without hesitation, he crushed it underfoot.

The earth rumbled faintly—the signal had been sent.

The man fell backward, exhausted and unconscious, lying flat on the ground with his eyes closed.

The red-haired woman let out a disappointed sigh. How boring.

She had no idea how far the NK Kingdom’s nearest outpost was or how long reinforcements would take to arrive.

With nothing better to do, her gaze drifted lazily back to Alan.

And then, before anyone could react, she shot forward and reappeared behind him like a crimson blur.

WHACK!

She slapped his backside hard with the flat of her blade.

“OWWW!!” Alan yelped, leaping up and clutching his rear. “What the hell was that for?!”

It took him a long moment to catch his breath and massage away the stinging pain. He turned back to face her with a bewildered expression.

But before he could even ask, she cut him off.

“You look awfully relaxed. Tell me—what was the last thing I said to you before I went to sleep?”

Alan blinked… and then it hit him.

He lowered his head, voice small and sheepish. “I… I’m sorry, Senior. I shouldn’t have woken you up…”

WHACK!

She was behind him again.

This time, she smacked the other side of his butt, leaving both cheeks swollen and tender.

Alan nearly fainted from the pain.

“You idiot,” she snapped. “Do you really think I’m angry because you woke me up?”

“Then… then why?” Alan whimpered.

“I’m mad because your vision is too narrow! You let a mere Legendary mage push you to the brink? You were practically dead when I arrived!”

She paced in front of him, scolding as if lecturing a misbehaving child.

“You need to start picking fights with opponents above Legendary. I’m bored to death out here—these guys are like mosquitoes to me! I wave my hand, they drop dead. Where’s the fun in that?!”

WHACK!

Another strike—this time across his back.

Alan almost coughed up blood. It felt like his entire spine had been fractured.

As he lay there groaning, she stood over him, still full of fire.

“And another thing!”

Her voice cracked like thunder.

“You still haven’t confessed everything you need to apologize for! Start talking. If I don’t like what I hear, I’ll beat you into a puddle myself—no help needed.”

Alan winced, inhaling sharply.

“I… I was too weak. I let myself get cornered by a bunch of Legendary mages. I… I disturbed your precious rest. It’s all my fault. I’m weak, and I shouldn’t have let things go this far…”

The red-haired woman smirked coldly but did not raise her sword again.

“You’re starting to get it—but you’re still only half right.”

“They bullied you not just because you were weak—but because they were trash to begin with. Never blame yourself for everything. One hand clapping makes no sound. They were at fault too.”

“And besides,” she added, “they’re Legendary. You’re not. It’s perfectly normal for you to lose to them. But there’s one thing you still haven’t admitted.”

Alan remained silent, eyes downcast.

“Now,” she said, eyes narrowing, “think harder—what else did you do wrong?”

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!