At this moment, Daniel's believers encompassed nearly every god's followers—even those who once belonged to Aurelia herself.

He wasn't sure how things had been in the ancient past, but for at least the last ten thousand years, there had never been a deity—or anything close to one—who commanded as many followers as Daniel did now.

His domain of faith stretched across multiple planes, and the scale of the Primordial Plane's stellar population was beyond comprehension.

Even if he were to pursue the Elder God Path, his power would hardly be weak—quite the opposite, in fact.

Daniel could almost feel it: if he were to truly walk that road, his strength might surpass even what he possessed now.

But for the moment, such an idea could not be tested. The dangers were far too great.

The Elder God Path, while unimaginably powerful, carried terrifying side effects. One misstep could result in the erasure of consciousness itself—a fate Daniel refused to risk.

Based on what he had observed so far, he strongly suspected that behind the Elder Gods existed an entity far beyond the level of ordinary divinity—a being greater than god-tier, perhaps even transcending it entirely.

Take for instance the Stone Turtle Gulis, the creature he had slain earlier.

Its dominion over earth and rock had clearly been derived from a higher Elder God, a being that stood above it as the ultimate source of that element.

Daniel closed his eyes and activated Mental Deduction, allowing endless waves of calculation and logic to unfold through his mind.

He needed clarity—he was facing too many variables, too many intricate crossroads to count.

He chuckled quietly to himself. If I hadn't learned Mental Deduction back then… how would I even survive the decisions I have to make now?

Every choice he faced seemed capable of birthing countless outcomes. Each branch of possibility could change the fate of entire worlds.

But if—just if—he could open a unique Elder God system tied to the Infinity Domain, perhaps that path wouldn't be entirely closed to him.

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

"The Infinity Domain… as it stands now, there shouldn't be an Elder God connected to it. If I choose that route, maybe—just maybe—my consciousness won't be devoured."

His deductions had revealed an important clue: the reason why so many Elder Gods lost themselves was because of the source of their divine domains.

All gods of the same domain were connected, feeding their faith and essence toward the strongest among them—the primal entity that dominated that field.

In essence, each was sacrificing their independence to the supreme god of that path, willingly or otherwise.

That explained why so many who pursued the Elder God route ended up corrupted or assimilated by the source consciousness behind their domain.

So then—what was the true relationship between the Elder Gods and the modern pantheon?

And what of the Backworld Gods—what role did they play in this divine hierarchy?

Why was it that upon reaching Demigod Rank, every being was drawn or compelled to enter the Backworld?

What secret did the core of the Backworld hide?

The more Daniel pondered, the more questions he unearthed.

Perhaps… he should take Kartora's suggestion seriously after all.

Thoughts surged through his mind like a storm.

Possibilities, probabilities, paths, dangers—each calculation revealed new uncertainties.

He could see the questions clearly, but lacked the information needed to draw any definitive conclusion.

Then suddenly, an image surfaced within his mind.

A graceful figure surrounded by golden radiance—Aurelia.

She looked at him with a calm, gentle smile, as if she had been waiting for this moment for ages.

Her voice, soft yet resonant, echoed directly in his consciousness.

"Crossbridge… if you are willing to walk the same path as us, you are welcome to join our ranks."

Daniel's pupils contracted.

Aurelia is inviting me?

For a brief moment, surprise flickered across his face.

Then, slowly, his expression turned solemn. He exhaled and shook his head lightly, dispelling the illusion and all distracting thoughts.

No—he couldn't decide impulsively.

Even though he now possessed the Time Stream, which allowed him to test different routes and timelines, he understood one unchanging truth:

In the end, he could only make one true choice.

And no matter what path he chose, regret would inevitably follow—just as it had ten thousand years ago.

The scene shifted once more.

Back in the Lava Sea Ruins, Daniel's figure plunged into the molten inferno.

The moment he entered, waves of blistering heat enveloped him.

The intense temperature was beyond the endurance of any mortal creature.

Even with his current Demigod-level physique, Daniel could feel the pain biting at him.

Every second, his HP dropped by several million points.

Within this deadly environment, no ordinary being could hope to survive.

Yet for Daniel, it was little more than an inconvenience.

As he descended deeper into the sea of magma, he soon located the presence he sought—Dean.

Dean's body was still sinking steadily, drawn downward by invisible gravity.

Without hesitation, Daniel extended his hand, and a pulse of temporal light flashed.

Dean's unconscious form vanished instantly—absorbed into the Corridor of Time.

Dean's consciousness had long since been extinguished, leaving only his body behind.

That made the process easy—he couldn't resist even if he wanted to.

Killing him outright would have been wasteful. Daniel had plans—Dean might still prove useful.

After all, Dean likely possessed crucial knowledge about the Elder God System. Information that Daniel desperately needed.

Meanwhile, in the Backworld,Milla's power had already reached the level of a Fake God.

With this newfound strength, the range of her teleportation gates had expanded dramatically—by at least a hundredfold compared to before.

For Daniel, who lacked wide-area teleportation abilities, this was a timely solution to a persistent problem.

His Flashback skill was potent, but its limitation was obvious: it could only transport him to locations he had already visited.

Unfamiliar regions remained inaccessible, forcing him to travel manually through space—no matter how fast he flew, the distances of the Backworld made it inefficient.

Thus, Daniel once again enlisted Milla's aid. Together, they set out to explore the vast unknown reaches of the Backworld.

To Milla, their journey lasted only half an hour. But for Daniel—whose mastery of time allowed him to experience countless iterations within those minutes—it was far, far longer.

By the time their survey was complete, they returned to the City of Luck.

And as they did—another Fake God's corpse came crashing down from the skies above.

The titanic body struck the ground with a deafening impact that shook the entire city.

No one could have imagined that one day, the City of Luck—once the brightest symbol of divine fortune—would become the graveyard of Fake Gods.

Standing atop the city walls, Kate watched the falling corpse, his expression grim and heavy.

A ripple in the air beside him, and Milla appeared, her presence accompanied by a faint shimmer of divine energy.

"Kate," she asked, "how many Fake Gods has Lord Daniel slain so far?"

Kate's gaze remained fixed on the horizon as he replied quietly,

"The thirteenth."

Milla froze for a second. Then her lips twitched—once, twice—as if suppressing the urge to curse.

The thirteenth…?

Her thoughts spun in disbelief.

Lord Daniel's strength has grown truly monstrous. He's still technically only Demigod-level—yet he's killing Fake Gods in bulk?

Those of the Elder God line might be the weakest among their kind, but they were still tiered beings far beyond mortals.

Each one represented the fusion of godlike essence and ancient madness—monsters born of chaos and forgotten faith.

And yet Daniel dispatched them as if they were nothing.

The first kill had been barely half an hour ago. Half an hour—and thirteen Fake Gods had fallen.

And within that same timeframe, she had been traveling with him—watching him warp through time and space as easily as breathing.

Milla sighed in a mix of awe and envy.

That clone ability of his… truly unfair.

Her gaze drifted toward Daniel's distant silhouette, her expression half admiring, half resentful.

"Why must such an incredible skill be a unique ability? If it were a general one, I'd sell everything I own just to trade for it."

She shook her head and looked back at Kate.

"You told me before that the Fake Gods of the Backworld were supposed to be strong, didn't you?"

Kate nodded slowly, still staring at the crimson horizon.

"Then why—why have thirteen of them fallen in less than half an hour?"

Milla frowned, as if something didn't add up.

But she was wrong.

Because if one counted Gulis, the Stone Turtle Elder, the true number of Fake Gods Daniel had slain was not thirteen—

It was fourteen.

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