Chapter Ninety: The Western Pantheon

In a distant, otherworldly realm, the air was suffused with a sacred aura, pure and crystalline. Magnificent structures floated in midair, their beauty unmatched, conjuring a scene that could only be found within the pages of a novel—yet here it existed, real and tangible.

In the distance, a figure adorned in resplendent attire soared swiftly through the sky. Her white garments fluttered in the wind, long hair streaming behind her, accentuating her delicate, oval face—a vision of ethereal beauty. Yet what drew the most attention were the three pairs of pure white wings upon her back, casting a trail of starlit radiance wherever she flew.

This was Gabriel, one of the seven Seraphim of Paradise, the Angel of Death, and also known as the Angel of Miracles. At this moment, she sped through the skies, her anxious expression betraying the gravity of the situation.

Before a grand and imposing hall, Gabriel halted her flight and alighted gently upon the ground. This was no ordinary place, but the most solemn and sacred location in all of Paradise—the Temple of God, Jehovah. Ordinarily, none but God’s closest confidants could set foot here; even Gabriel lacked the right. But today was an exception. Instead of flying directly, she proceeded with utmost reverence, walking step by step. Gazing up at the ascending staircase, Gabriel drew a breath and began her ascent.

Within the resplendent heart of the temple, her eyes first met the imposing figures of the two guardians stationed at the entrance. Upon closer inspection, she realized with astonishment that they were both eight-winged Supreme Angels. Such beings seldom revealed themselves, but as one of the seven mightiest in Paradise, Gabriel knew of their existence.

This was Gabriel’s first time seeing them in person, and before these Supreme Angels, she set aside all pride; compared to the majesty of the eight-winged, a six-winged Seraphim was but a shadow.

She bowed her head respectfully, then entered the great hall.

"Gabriel, you have come, as expected." The solemn voice echoed in her ears, resonant with the knowledge of all things, a sovereign in the western heavens.

Gabriel immediately knelt in obeisance. "My Lord, your messenger bears urgent news for you."

The august voice belonged to none other than God Himself, revered by all. Legend said He created heaven and earth in seven days—true enough, yet it was only the Western realm He shaped, not the East.

Jehovah waved a hand. "Gabriel, I am already aware of the calamity befalling the mortal world. This is an anomaly beyond the power of mortals to resolve."

Gabriel was not surprised that Jehovah knew all that transpired below; after all, He was no ordinary being, but God Himself—omniscient and omnipotent.

Worried, she asked, "My Lord, the mortal realm is the very foundation of our faith. Should disaster strike there... and as you have said, this is not a crisis mortals can resolve."

"And what do you propose?" Jehovah regarded the perfect angel, blessed with all the beauty of the world, with interest.

"If mortals cannot resolve it, why does Paradise not send angels to aid them?" Gabriel paused, then continued, "With the advancement of human technology and the rise of atheism, many of our former believers now waver, doubting our very existence. If we seize this opportunity..."

"And what of the powerful deities of the East? Their strength is formidable—many surpass even Myself." Jehovah’s eyes narrowed as he spoke.

Gabriel was at a loss, unsure how to respond. After a long silence, she ventured, "It is true the Eastern gods are mighty, but was that not in the past? They no longer descend to the mortal world, do they?"

The gods of the East—the Immortals—descended from the Celestial Realm to the human world. Angels from Paradise, however, did not 'descend' in the same way, for Paradise existed as a parallel dimension to the human world, a plane unto itself. Thus, the Celestial Realm was considered a higher plane than Paradise.

"It is true the Eastern gods no longer descend, but not long ago, a high-ranking deity from the East appeared in our exclusive domain in the mortal world. His power matches, if not exceeds, my own." Jehovah’s strength equated to that of a Celestial Lord, yet even at the pinnacle of that rank, he was still far from the level of Leng Bingyan, who had reached the early stage of Celestial Emperor. The gulf between them was vast.

Gabriel’s face was filled with shock, as if she realized once more that the world had slipped beyond their control. In ancient times, Paradise had no real advantage—Eastern Celestial Emperors, Demon Emperors, or Ghost Emperors frequently appeared to disrupt their plans, and sometimes even gods among men. Back then, the Celestial and Divine Realms had not yet fully separated. Faced with such overwhelming Eastern powers, Paradise could only seethe in silence.

"My Lord, then what is to be done?" she asked anxiously.

"No matter," Jehovah replied, waving his hand. "His presence does Paradise no harm; indeed, it may help fulfill my hopes. Gabriel!"

"Yes, my Lord," Gabriel answered solemnly.

"Deliver a divine decree to the mortal Pope. If necessary, grant him great power, and send a legion of angels to serve under his command." Jehovah imparted the decree in detail. According to the agreement between Eastern and Western deities, both sides had set restrictions: summoning angels above four wings required enormous expenditure of light, so the Pope was the natural choice for Paradise’s proxy and commander.

"Also, notify the other Western pantheons and request their support. I suspect they will be only too willing." Jehovah smiled, and with a grand gesture, Gabriel vanished from the temple.

***Feather***Emperor***

On the heights of Mount Olympus, within the Greek Pantheon’s temple—

When Zeus, the Sky God, received Paradise’s messenger and learned of the situation, he laughed heartily and, after sending off the messenger, summoned the gods.

The Sea God Poseidon, Hades of the Underworld, Hera the Queen of Heaven, Apollo the Sun God, Ares the God of War, Athena the Goddess of Wisdom and Just War, Artemis the Moon Goddess, Aphrodite the Goddess of Love and Beauty, and others all gathered to deliberate on this momentous affair.

In the North, under Odin’s guidance, the Norse gods convened for an unprecedented assembly.

On the summit of Kunlun, an old Taoist with a white beard opened his eyes. "Calamity and fortune come together—the world faces strife once more..." He closed his eyes and returned to tranquility.

In Brahma’s realm, Shiva regarded the highest god Brahma with caution. Beside him, Vishnu was equally tense, all awaiting Brahma’s decision.

After a long pause, Brahma opened his eyes. "We of the Hindu pantheon are but a minor power; we must not involve ourselves too deeply in the disputes of the greater pantheons. Let us refrain. Though we may not profit, we can preserve ourselves."

Vishnu and Shiva, hearing this, merely nodded in agreement.

The African pantheons made similar decisions: Sikaio, the Supreme God of the Mande, forbade his lineage from interference; Nyame, the Ashanti Supreme God, issued the same command...

Beneath the East Sea, in the depths of its silent pressure, a long-slumbering deity opened her eyes...

***Feather***Emperor***

Of course, Leng Bingyan knew nothing of these events. Even if he did, he would not care much.

The Pulao Cauldron, the Fuxi Cauldron, the Chiwen Cauldron! He muttered to himself, "When will I ever find them?" "Why are you in such a hurry?" A lively, adorable image of Ziling appeared in his mind.

"So you’re finally showing yourself, Ziling? I thought you’d gone back to sleep," Leng Bingyan grumbled. Ever since the Violet Sword’s evolution, Ziling had appeared once, only to fall silent again.

"I’m just trying to let the Violet Sword evolve to its fullest!" Ziling replied cheerfully, as if it were only natural.

Leng Bingyan was speechless. He did hope the sword would evolve perfectly, since it would unleash even greater power. Changing the subject, he asked, "Then tell me, why shouldn’t I be in a hurry?"

"Isn’t it obvious? You’re just being foolish," Ziling rolled her eyes. "You sit on a mountain of gold and don’t know how to use it—that’s a terrible waste, an unforgivable waste."

"A mountain of gold? Where?" Leng Bingyan looked perplexed. If Ziling meant his physical constitution, yes, he was gifted, but what did that have to do with searching for the Nine Provinces Divine Dragon Cauldrons? If there was a connection, why hadn’t Ziling mentioned it before?

"Isn’t there?" Ziling’s sly gaze fixed on him. "Don’t you have the Nether Death Decree? It’s just an object, but you need someone who knows how to use it. You can’t expect it to find the Dragon Cauldrons on its own, can you?"

"You mean, use the Nether Death Decree to find the Dragon Cauldrons?" Leng Bingyan was puzzled, then slapped his forehead. How had he forgotten such a simple truth? Searching alone was difficult, but what if he had a hundred, a thousand, even millions helping him? Not that the decree itself could conjure so many, but he’d forgotten its true significance—the authority over the Myriad Demons!

This tiny token in his hand could command all deities in the Nether Demon Realm. There was no need to go to such lengths himself; if he wanted to find a few Dragon Cauldrons, he could simply summon some spirits from the Spirit Ghost Realm.

The Spirit Ghost Realm governed the Six Paths of Reincarnation, and unlike the Celestial Realm, it did not impose so many constraints on entry to the mortal world. They regularly collected souls from the human realm—so as soon as Leng Bingyan produced the Nether Death Decree and asked for their help, they would leap at the chance.

With this realization, Leng Bingyan understood. He took out the decree, and instantly, the surrounding atmosphere changed dramatically. A desolate, ancient energy gathered and dispersed, surging again and again.

He quickly sensed the pulse of the Spirit Ghost Realm. With a low call, he summoned a ghost cultivator of considerable strength—equivalent to a mid-stage immortal cultivator. After a few words and revealing the decree, the ghost cultivator hurriedly agreed and returned to gather reinforcements.

Leng Bingyan had not anticipated the vastness of the Spirit Ghost Realm, nor the multitudes within. When the ghost cultivator returned and spoke of the decree, the news spread rapidly, reaching the highest echelons. There, spirits fell into three classes: third class were ordinary souls about to reincarnate; second class, ghost cultivators who had escaped the cycle of reincarnation; first class, ghost immortals who had reached the level of celestial beings. Ghost cultivators, upon achieving enlightenment, became ghost immortals, much like spiritual cultivators in the mortal realm—except that upon reaching immortality, spiritual cultivators ascended to the Celestial Realm.

A high-ranking figure swiftly issued orders, and Leng Bingyan was soon assigned an army of three hundred thousand ghost cultivators, dispatched across the world in search of the Dragon Cauldrons.