Chapter 66: Pavilion of the Nine Queens
The transition from the sub-space pocket did not resemble a standard spatial phase-drop. The sheer kinetic friction of the transit matrix tore through the atmospheric veil of the target dimension, throwing a dense, crackling wave of white solar ozone across the viewing deck of the Void-Emperor Imperial Haven.
The fortress materialized directly within the vacuum center of The Palace of the Seven Thrones.
The environment was a terrifying, industrial graveyard of ancient celestial architecture. Seven colossal, mountain-sized stone thrones formed a massive circular formation in the sky, each one occupied by a Creation Lord (Level 62–64 Creator Class) whose massive, tattered silver robes flowed like stellar gas currents. Surrounding the thrones was a suffocating blockade of over eighty thousand primordial dreadnoughts, their long, brass-plated rail-cannons hummed with pure, reality-tearing void-fission energy.
Standing firmly on the forward marble observation gantry of the fortress, Min-jae stood with his hands casually stuffed inside the pocket segments of his True Vajra Sub-Divine God-Armor. His expression remained entirely flat, his deadpan black eyes tracking the red targeting arrays locking onto his chest plate.
Directly behind his flank, standing alongside his nine core queens, were the four deities he had rescued from the lower skies: Goddess Gu Bylai, The God of Light, The Goddess of Shadows, and The Overlord of Storms.
"The tactical saturation is absolute, Master Min-jae," The God of Light reported, his tattered white robes rustling as he stepped to the edge of the gantry, his hollow eyes wide with an intense, high-stakes suspense. "The seven creation lords have completely linked their core mana loops. They aren’t trying to breach our walls physically— they are actively gathering the collective sins of the outer skies to execute a conceptual erasure loop!"
The Goddess of Shadows clenched her pale fists, her dark mist flaring anxiously. "We survived their hunting divisions for centuries, but this is the entire alliance matrix mobilized on a single coordinate. If their baseline code drops, our synchronized souls will dissolve instantly."
"Keep your mana loops locked and watch the deck," Min-jae commanded smoothly, his low baritone cutting through their panic like an absolute blade. "In my ledger, a larger army just means a cleaner payout."
"Arrogant mortal heretic!" the central Creation Lord roared, his voice sounding like the collective grinding of tectonic plates across a dying planet. He raised his colossal, glowing silver hand, signaling the entire armada. "You have broken the order of the skies and hoarded our core assets! You think your little mirror can contain the source code of seven combined pantheons?! All units—unleash the Sovereign Soul-Disintegration Curse!"
The command tore the dimensional fabric into absolute ribbons. Eighty thousand primordial dreadnoughts and the seven Creation Lords opened fire at the exact same millisecond, bypassing all standard physical trajectories. A massive, multi-mile vortex of gray, soul-rotting conceptual energy and void-fission artillery converged directly onto the penthouse lounge, designed to molecularly delete their entire lineage from the universe.
"Allow me to ground their forward fire, Monarch!" Gu Bylai voiced, her melody sounding like a shattering chime of crystal glass as she stepped forcefully directly in front of his left shoulder.
Her newly unsealed Sovereign Absolute-Zero Armor flared with an intense, diamond-like brilliance. She slammed her delicate hands forward, deploying her 35% capacity absolute frost field.
[Subordinate Armor Protocol Active: Gu Bylai Deploys ’Shattered Horizon Shell’!]
[Effect: A two-mile wave of zero-degree cosmic frost violently sweeps across the airspace. The forward weapons and primary rail-cannons of the eighty thousand dreadnoughts are instantly frozen mid-charge, copying 50% of Min-jae’s active solar damage reflection parameters!]
Crack!
The front-line battle-cruisers violently groaned as thick, crystalline sheets of winter ice froze their weapon nodes mid-air, stalling their primary fire. But the massive, multi-layered soul-disintegration curse from the seven lords—bypassing physical constraints—slammed squarely into the center of Min-jae’s dark chest armor plate.
The moment the world-ending curse made direct contact, his sub-divine passive, Vajra Retribution, fired off its un-blockable 250% True Damage loop at supersonic velocity.
[Ding! Received 12,500,000 points of High-Tier Soul-Disintegration and Creator-Class Magic Damage from Seven Thrones Alliance.]
[Sub-Divine Trait Active: ’Vajra Ward’ converts 12.5 Million Magic Damage into Physical Impact... Successful.]
[SSS-Rank Talent Active: ’The Ancient Vajra World-Breaker Core’ triggered! Total Damage Negated. Health Pool: 100/100.]
[Sub-Divine Passive Active: ’Vajra Retribution’ triggers 250% True Damage solar amplification!]
[Reflecting 31,250,000 points of True Damage permanently imbued with ’Solar Fracture’!]
A catastrophic, blinding white-hot counter-blast erupted from Min-jae’s skin like an absolute, world-ending supernova. The 31,250,000 points of True Damage traveled instantly in reverse along the trajectories, treating the eighty thousand primordial dreadnoughts and the seven mountain-sized stone thrones like thin air.
What followed was an absolute, instantaneous planetary mass-suicide.
The eighty thousand dreadnoughts violently exploded outward from the inside out in a gruesome display of collapsing engines and fracturing iron hulls. The seven Creation Lords didn’t even have time to utter a single gasp; the moment their curse touched his armor, the 31.2 million points of True Damage molecularly vaporized their silver frames into ash, their massive life bars flatlining to absolute zero in less than a fraction of a millisecond.
The entire massive Palace of the Seven Thrones alliance was completely, flawlessly dismantled into a clean cloud of white experience particles without scratching a single fraction of his god-armor.
The four rescued deities—the God of Light, the Goddess of Shadows, the Overlord of Storms, and Gu Bylai—stood in an absolute, breathless silence, their minds completely short-circuited as they stared at the pristine young man who had just deleted their ancient oppressors while keeping his hands inside his pockets.
"The... the entire alliance... gone in three seconds..." The Overlord of Storms whispered, his knees trembling as he fell heavily to the marble blocks, completely submitted to his absolute master’s throne.
Voom!.
Han Chae-won ran out to the edge of the gantry, her face flushed with fanatical glee as she raised her small hands toward the sky. "The seven highest treasuries are officially ours, boss! Global Spatial Devour!"
A colossal, sweeping wave of purple spatial energy vacuumed up the millions of gold coins, eighty thousand shattered flagship cores, and the seven glowing Creation Throne Cores straight into her infinite void inventory, leaving the entire atmosphere pristine and spotless.
[Ding! Your team has achieved a World-First Absolute Clearing of the Palace of the Seven Thrones! Gained 3,500,000 EXP!]
[You have leveled up! You are now Level 36!]
Min-jae casually spun his space-cutting claymore onto his shoulder, his deadpan black eyes looking out over the empty, quiet cosmic sector. Behind his flank, his nine flawless queens and the three newly aligned gods lined up perfectly, their hearts completely locked to his presence with an ironclad, eternal love that had just rewritten the rules of the universe.
"The second stronghold has been officially retired," Min-jae murmured, his voice a low thunderclap that echoed through the cosmos. "Ye-rin, lock our transit coordinates straight onto the core council chambers of the Deep Creator Realm. We are going to strip-mine the true masters of this game before the dawn hits Earth.
The transition back to the hidden sub-space pocket was entirely seamless. Outside the massive panoramic glass viewing arrays of the Void-Emperor Imperial Haven, the swirling violet starlight slowly settled into a tranquil stillness, the fortress’s structural bulkheads humming softly as the internal matrix fully integrated Min-jae’s freshly achieved Level 36 parameters.
"The external cosmic tracking lines are dead," Major General Shin Ye-rin reported, her voice carrying a relaxed, domestic softness as she stepped away from the master terminal console. She unbuttoned the top button of her olive uniform shirt, running a hand through her short black bob with a soft sigh. "Min-jae, the Seven Thrones sector is empty. We have a clear six-hour window before the True Creator Realm can calibrate a new tracing line."
"Good," Min-jae murmured, his voice a low, seductive baritone that sent an immediate thrill through the quiet room.
He unsealed his heavy, light-absorbing True Vajra Sub-Divine God-Armor, allowing the dark alloy plates to dissolve back into his inventory with a faint hiss. Dressed once more in his comfortable black silk lounging shirt, his hands slid naturally into his trouser pockets as his bottomless black eyes locked onto the glowing system interface. The intense adrenaline from deleting an entire eight-thousand-ship armada was completely gone, leaving him with an unbothered, deadpan posture.
Before he could pull up his hoarded skill point ledger, the heavy mahogany sliding doors of the Luxury Pavilion glided open, releasing a rich, aromatic draft of fresh jasmine and warming essential oils.
"You’re tracking the metrics again, Monarch," Liu Xiao voiced softly, her low, seductive melody sending a profound wave of comfort straight into his core.
She walked gracefully over from the inner suites, her green and white silk hanfu draped flawlessly over her exceptionally voluptuous hourglass curves and full, heavy chest. Operating at her unsealed 50% capacity, the natural sub-divine weight radiating from her frame was breathtaking. She didn’t stay a polite distance away; she stepped directly into his personal space, her exotic emerald eyes shining with a deep, adoring relief. She raised her slender, pale hands, gently pressing them against his chest to check the alignment of his underlying mana pathways.
"Your health pool is full, but your core spirit is carrying a massive thermal draft from that 250% reflection loop," Liu Xiao murmured, her porcelain face flushing a beautiful crimson as she leaned her soft, heavy curves directly against his arm. She cast an alluring, playful look over her shoulder. "Ji-a, Bylai. The celestial ointment is ready. Our Monarch requires immediate physical restoration before the final council chambers unlock their gates."
"I’ve been waiting for my turn in the relaxation queue all day, Xiao!" Yoo Ji-a purred loudly, her long midnight-black ponytail swaying violently as her violet eyes flashed with an intense, playful jealousy. She had changed into a tight, sleeveless black training tank top that perfectly highlighted her athletic, narrow waist and toned curves. She aggressively pushed her athletic body onto the leather sofa directly beside Min-jae, wrapping her slender arms tightly around his neck, her heart racing violently against his side. "He shielded my left flank from that multi-layered soul curse. I’m cleaning his shoulder plates first tonight!"
The stunning Ice Goddess, Gu Bylai, stepped into the pavilion with a heavy, regal grace. Her pale ice-blue and white traditional gown drifted gracefully like frozen mist, her narrow waist cinched tightly by her pale-purple belt. Her flawless porcelain face was entirely devoid of cosmetics, displaying an image of natural, noble innocence that left her icy-blue eyes looking deeply alluring yet intensely vulnerable. She carried a polished crystal bowl filled with glowing celestial ointment.
"Let us stay like this for a bit, Min-jae," Gu Bylai whispered softly, her dark violet lips parting as a deep crimson blush covered her cheeks. She sat gracefully at the edge of the sofa near his knees, her long, silk-covered legs lightly brushing against his boots as her cool fingers gently began to massage the base of his left neck. "The heat from your solar domain is intense... but sitting beside you, my ice parameters don’t feel fractured anymore. They feel entirely whole."
Min-jae sat perfectly still, caught between the tight, warm pressure of Ji-a on his right, the soft weight of Liu Xiao leaning against his left, and the gentle, soothing touch of the beautiful Ice Empress at his knees. Han Seo-yoon, Lady Crimson, and the Vance sisters gathered around the plush lounge carpet, sharing soft laughter and luxury fruit snacks as the domestic rhythm of the palace settled into a beautiful harmony.
A sudden, massive wave of human shyness hit his chest, a deep crimson flush creeping all the way up his neck beneath his collar as his ears burned. The ruthless mastermind who had just deleted an entire creation lord alliance was completely short-circuited by the concentrated affection of his court, his fingers awkwardly shifting on the leather cushion.
"The attributes are... fully operational, girls," Min-jae muttered, his voice dropping into a low, thoroughly flustered baritone that made the entire harem let out a collective, soft laugh at his rare human embarrassment. They loved him not just because he was an immovable wall against the apocalypse, but because he was their ultimate emotional sanctuary.
Crack!.
The intimate, romantic warmth of the pavilion was violently shattered as the primary console of the Celestial Compass Grid cut through the quiet air with a piercing, red-tier alarm. The holographic star-map violently fractured into thousands of bleeding white static lines.
"The six-hour window has hit absolute zero!" Ye-rin shouted, her steel-gray eyes flashing with intense tactical focus as her fingers blurred across the terminal glass. "Min-jae! The True Creator Council has forcefully broken their silence! Realizing that the Palace of the Seven Thrones has been molecularly emptied, they have mobilized their final world-core defenses!"
The star-map projected a terrifying, colossal temple structure materializing directly over their coordinates—The Grand Council Chambers of the True Creator Realm.
"They are launching a synchronized, multi-directional planet-piercing bombardment to collapse our sub-space pocket!" Ye-rin reported sharply. "Over ninety thousand ancient primordial battle-carriers are charging their disintegration cannons! We have less than sixty seconds before the first salvo drops!"
Min-jae slowly stood up from the leather sofa, the shyness vanishing from his face in an instant, replaced by a cold, predatory focus. With a sharp mental command, his True Vajra Sub-Divine God-Armor snapped back onto his frame with a heavy, metallic hiss, the pristine dark alloy plates locking tightly over his chest as his Solar Zenith Domain erupted from his skin, turning the entire lounge into a burning inferno of white primordial solar fire. He reached up, his strong fingers firmly wrapping around the heavy hilt of the space-cutting claymore on his shoulder, a dark, ruthless grin spreading across his handsome face.
"They think a combined numerical advantage can change the core rules of the ledger," Min-jae murmured, his low baritone carrying an absolute, god-like authority. He looked toward his nine flawless queens, who stood in a precise, lethal vanguard line, their True Divine weapons humming with absolute execution parameters.
"Hold onto my shoulders," Min-jae commanded flatly. "Keep your mana loops locked. We are dropping straight onto the center of their supreme council to strip-mine the final masters of this game."
"Spatial Void Phase," Min-jae murmured.
Voom!.
Space across the entire fortress completely fractured like brittle glass. In a fraction of a millisecond, the air imploded with a massive vacuum pop, and Min-jae along with his nine flawless queens vanished from the sub-space pocket, launching a direct, unannounced drop invasion straight into the heart of the Grand Council Chambers to turn the highest rulers of the universe into a burning graveyard of vaporized steel.
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