The Count was not anywhere near the strongest of the Gods who ruled the Sacred Abyss Universe.
He was not even the strongest among the 32 Counts, and above them, there were 16 Dukes and 4 Grand Dukes below the Dark God.
When he was compared to his peers, Count Verex didn't have much to show aside from his massive ambitions.
As such, he wasn't respected by very many people, at least of those who were on the same level as him.
He always hated that.
But since he was such a twisted person, their animosity only worsened his bad qualities.
The Count wanted the Crown of Realis for multiple reasons, but none of them were worthy of the crown itself.
He wanted to become strong enough to step on his peers.
At the end of the day, he was just thirsting for validation.
Damien knew that.
For some reason, as he looked at the Count, all of the man's habits and behaviors became clear to him.
The environment had slowed down as well, not that it mattered.
Damien was currently seeing everything in frozen time. He was already blasting towards the Count, and he was teleporting so there really wasn't much time to be slowed in the first place.
Still, he felt like he had more than enough time to analyze the Count before striking him.
'Have I gotten stronger?'
He didn't know when.
Nothing he had received in Gehenna should've made him stronger. The mist was like a talkative companion, while the crown was more of an invisible aura that would provide no benefit until a certain point.
But something like this…
Why did he feel like the Count would be easy to defeat?
Why did he feel like he could absolutely crush this man if he let loose his full strength?
Damien was already holding himself back, you know?
Even under the suppression of the Sacred Abyss Universe's laws, Damien held himself back so as to not scare off the people of the Gehenna Tribe.
It had been over a year, even more than that if counting the pseudo-time of Gehenna, since Damien had actually been able to feel the full extent of his power.
As for the last time he was able to actually use it…wasn't that back when he fought that homunculus and charged through the Divine Order's territory?
He could feel it bubbling inside him now.
He could feel the Ananta Matrix roaring, infused with a new sense of spirituality it had never possessed before.
He held back so the people he cared for in this realm would not be harmed or terrified by his power.
But they were dead now.
So what was he holding back for?
Power was meant to be used.
Especially if it was to exterminate pests like Count Verex.
Saying that the entire sacred jungle was torn to pieces the instant Damien attacked was not an exaggeration.
He made multiple moves at once.
Firstly, he placed a barrier around Thalia and the group of geniuses so that they wouldn't be harmed by the collateral damage of the fight.
Secondly, he put a barrier around the village that froze time, just in case there was anybody inside who could be saved.
And thirdly, once safety precautions had been taken, he let loose his aura.
BOOOOOOOOOOM!
The explosive force was massive simply because of the sheer weight of the aura.
Damien's power spread in every direction like the sharpest blade in existence, tearing down the trees for several tens of millions of kilometers and killing several tens of thousands of creatures.
A massive patch was formed in the sacred jungle, and that was before Damien even reached the Count.
Once he did, he attacked again, not giving the Count a single chance to fight back.
BOOM!
A punch landed with a force enough to generate more heat than a thousand suns.
It slammed against the Count's face, cracking his jaw and sending him flying backwards several million kilometers.
The Count's eyes immediately turned serious.
'There was such a being in this remote tribe?'
He immediately stopped underestimating the enemy when a punch that was thrown without energy to support it managed to injure him.
He couldn't sense any sort of Godly aura from Damien, but since the man could harm him, he had to be powerful.
Which meant he also couldn't joke around anymore.
The Count raised his mana–
BOOOOOOOOOOM!
Damien arrived before he could do anything.
His energy acted like a machine.
It was already coagulated into an attack before even Damien had a chance to control it, and the instant he arrived, it burst forth.
It was an energy close to Existence. Far closer to Existence than Damien had ever been.
The Count wasn't sent flying this time. Instead, he was slammed into the ground, his body creating a crater that only continued to widen as more and more force was thrown into him.
"ARGH!"
His bones shattered, and blood spewed out of his mouth.
He roared in pain, his eyes filled with hatred for the man he'd only just seen for the first time.
But Damien didn't care.
Damien was in the mood to rampage.
And his power was supporting him wholeheartedly.
Damien's energy was acting different than usual. Right now, it acted as if it had its own sentience, carrying out Damien's will without him even having to provoke it.
'This is the mist's doing.'
He felt the spirituality in the Ananta Matrix a while ago, but he didn't realize the reason until now.
When the mist integrated with his systems, it became like his personal assistant.
As it was connected to his mind, body, and soul, it could execute his will with a precision that even he himself couldn't naturally reach.
The mist, in a certain sense, could be considered synonymous with energy itself.
Therefore, when it had control, it could do things humans could never imagine no matter how strong they were.
With its support, with the Emperor's Crown's support, and with his own power…
Damien had finally reached a point where he could kill weaker Gods without tricks or schemes.
He just had to fight.
Which, in this situation, was perfect.
Because he really, really wanted the Count's blood to drench his hands.
Damien dropped his eyes. The Count had sunk almost a kilometer into the ground before he was able to neutralize the force pushing him down.
At the moment, he was glaring at Damien like he was his worst enemy, and his malakh was filling the crater with ethereal blackness.
It didn't matter.
It would never matter.
'You think you can fight…?'
Damien didn't say any words.
He merely glanced at the Count with clear mockery oozing from his gaze.
His intent could be read clearly.
This wouldn't be a fight.
Damien wouldn't allow that.
This would be a one-sided massacre.
And the entirety of the territory the Count ruled would witness it.
Count Verex slammed his foot into the ground and shot out of the crater.
He was aiming at Damien, his mana prepared to exert a technique that would surely raze countless kilometers of society to the ground.
But, again, nobody needed to get their expectations up.
Just like the Uruk before him, the Count was just a target in Damien's eyes.
And a target that Damien set his sights on could only ever have one fate.
