Divine Mask: I Have Numerous God Clones

Zeus tered the mission cter with a purposeful stride, his mind focused on one goal: accelerating his cultivation as quickly as possible.

The time for aimless searching through mission listings had passed. He knew exactly what he needed, and he wasn't going to waste any time getting it. Spotting the mission officer, he approached her directly.

"Do you have any missions involving hunting thunder beasts?" Zeus asked, his voice firm and direct, leaving no room for small talk.

The system had already informed him that the most effective way to accelerate his cultivation was by absorbing the ergy and cores of thunder beasts.

Thanks to his unique abilities, Zeus could absorb the cores of these beasts directly, something that was considered taboo and dangerous for others. This gave him an edge, allowing him to pursue paths of power that others would avoid.

The officer, a sharp-eyed woman who had dealt with countless ambitious disciples, glanced at Zeus and nodded.

"We have a few missions that might interest you. There's one involving two-star Thunder Boars, and another with three-star Thunder Pythons," she offered, her voice steady and professional.

Zeus barely flinched at the mtion of those beasts, his expression remaining indiffert. He needed something far more challging, something that would truly test his abilities and accelerate his cultivation.

With a sharp look in his eyes, he leaned forward slightly. "Do you have any missions involving four-star thunder beasts?" His tone was firm, leaving no room for doubt.

The officer's brow furrowed in surprise. Not many disciples asked for missions at that level, especially not without a team. It was rare, and it usually didn't d well.

She hesitated for a momt, studying Zeus's unwavering gaze before finally reaching under the desk. With a slight sigh, she pulled out a mission scroll and handed it to him.

"There is one," she said, her voice laced with caution. "This mission involves hunting a four-star Thunder Eagle. Your task is simple: bring back the Thunder Eagle's core."

Zeus took the scroll and unrolled it, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the details. The Thunder Eagle was notorious for its incredible speed and devastating lightning attacks.

It was the kind of beast that required both power and strategy to defeat. For many, it was a death stce, but for Zeus, it was exactly what he needed.

A slow smile spread across his face as he handed the scroll back to the officer. "I'll take this mission," he declared, his tone confidt and final.

The officer's brow furrowed, a shadow of concern crossing her features as she studied Zeus's confidt demeanor.

"Are you sure about this?" she asked, her voice tinged with guine worry. "A mission like this is usually tackled by a team. It's dangerous to go alone. You really should consider bringing some companions."

Zeus's lips curled into a knowing smile, his eyes gleaming with an unsettling calm. "I appreciate your concern," he said, his tone smooth and assured, "but I'll manage just fine on my own. After all, the worst that can happ is I d up dead."

The officer blinked, momtarily thrown by his casual dismissal of death. There was something about this disciple—something that set him apart from the others she had countered.

His nonchalance wasn't arrogance; it was a deeply rooted confidce that intrigued her. Despite her initial hesitation, she found herself nodding slowly, almost in admiration.

"Very well," she conceded, her voice softing as a hint of respect crept in. "But I'll tell you this: if you do come back alive, I'll make sure there's a little bonus waiting for you. Consider it a reward for your... determination."

Zeus's smirk wided, a flicker of amusemt dancing in his eyes. "Let's see what I can do," he replied, his tone carrying a promise of success.

With that, he turned and left the mission cter, the scroll clutched firmly in his hand. The hunt for the Thunder Eagle awaited, and with it, the next step in his reltless pursuit of power. Zeus walked away with a confidt stride, fully prepared to face whatever challges lay ahead.

Meanwhile, in the depths of the Necrovauld Academy, the old man who had brought Hades into the fold was in his private chamber, a dark and secluded room filled with ominous symbols and the sct of decay.

The room was lit only by the flickering flames of black candles, casting eerie shadows on the walls. The old man stood before an altar, his eyes gleaming with malevolt intt as he prepared for a dark ritual.

On the altar lay an unfortunate disciple, bound and gagged, his eyes wide with terror. The old man paid no heed to the disciple's muffled pleas for mercy. Instead, he began chanting in a low, guttural voice, invoking ancit and forbidd powers. The air in the room grew thick with malevolt ergy, and the disciple's struggles grew weaker as the ritual took hold.

With a final, decisive incantation, the old man completed the ritual. The disciple's body convulsed violtly as his life force was drained away, leaving him a lifeless husk. The old man watched with a cold, detached expression, a small smile playing on his lips as he observed the disciple's agonizing demise.

"Not ough," the old man muttered to himself, his tone one of mild disappointmt. He had hoped for a greater surge of power, but this sacrifice was insufficit to fulfill his dark ambitions.

His thoughts turned to Hades, the promising disciple he had rectly brought into the academy. The old man's smile wided into a sinister smirk as he considered the pottial power that lay within Hades. "It seems that I need that disciple as a sacrifice," he mused aloud, his voice dripping with anticipation.

The old man's eyes gleamed with twisted satisfaction as he visioned his plan unfolding. "Let's wait for two years," he whispered to himself. "By th, your power should have grown strong ough to become the perfect sacrifice—one that will fulfill my plan."

With that, the old man set about cleaning up the remnants of the ritual, disposing of the corpse with practiced efficicy. His mind was already working on the next steps, calculating how best to sure that Hades would reach his full pottial before being used to further the old man's dark designs.

As the last traces of the ritual were erased from the room, the old man's smirk remained firmly in place. He had time, and he had patice. The pieces were falling into place, and soon, his plan would come to fruition.