Divine Mask: I Have Numerous God Clones

Chapter 274: Lucas's Tribulation (3)



Chapter 274: Lucas's Tribulation (3)

The sky roared ominously as the seventh thunderbolt gathered above, far larger and more terrifying than any of the previous strikes. It crackled with raw, destructive energy, the very air vibrating from its immense power.

"No... it can't be..." Kaelor muttered, his eyes wide with horror as he stared up at the swirling clouds. His voice trembled, the realization of their impending doom sinking in.

Sylra, gritting her teeth, tried to maintain her composure, but even she couldn't hide the fear flickering in her eyes. "This... this is impossible! How can it be this strong?!" Her voice was sharp, filled with disbelief and desperation.

Before either of them could react further, the thunderbolt struck.

The world around them erupted in a blinding flash of light as the bolt crashed down with a vengeance. The ground quaked beneath them as the strike hit with unmatched fury, drowning the battlefield in its relentless power.

Sylra's face twisted in agony, her eyes wide with pain as she screamed. "No! I won't die here!" But her words were lost in the roar of the storm as the energy tore through her body, ravaging her beyond recognition.

Kaelor let out a guttural cry, his voice breaking. "How... how can this be?!" His expression, once full of pride, now contorted in terror. His limbs shook uncontrollably as the thunder ripped through him, his eyes pleading for mercy that would never come.

Their bodies, already battered and weakened from the previous strikes, couldn't withstand the sheer, unrelenting force of the final tribulation. The energy surged through them like wildfire, their screams echoing one last time before their forms began to disintegrate.

In the blink of an eye, both of them were vaporized, their lives snuffed out by the merciless power of the thunderbolt. The only sound left was the faint hum of dissipating energy as their existence was erased from the battlefield.

Lucas stood alone at the center of the storm, his body trembling violently as the seventh thunderbolt ripped through him. Every muscle in his body tensed in response, and his face contorted in sheer agony, veins bulging as he struggled to endure the overwhelming force.

"Arghh... it hurts!" Lucas shouted, his voice barely audible over the deafening roar of the storm. His eyes squeezed shut, every nerve ablaze. "Damn it, it's too painful!" he cursed, each word laced with anguish. His usually calm demeanor was shattered, replaced by raw, primal suffering.

The thunder raged on, relentless and merciless. It felt like an eternity as the bolt seared through him, the energy crashing against his very soul.

Lucas gasped, his breath coming in ragged bursts, but even as his body threatened to collapse under the pressure, he refused to yield. "I won't... fall!" he muttered through gritted teeth, determination burning in his eyes.

The storm seemed endless, the power unyielding. But Lucas, with a will forged through countless battles, held firm. He screamed again, the pain unbearable, but he stood tall, defying the storm's attempt to break him.

Finally, after what felt like hours, the last bolt of thunder began to fade, the violent energy dissipating into the sky. The once-ferocious storm calmed, the dark clouds slowly peeling back as the tribulation came to its end.

Panting heavily, Lucas fell to one knee, his body still trembling from the aftershocks of the lightning. Sweat dripped from his brow, and his chest heaved as he struggled to catch his breath. His hands, still clenched into fists, shook from the intensity of the ordeal.

But as the pain gradually ebbed away, something else took its place—a deep, powerful sensation. Lucas's eyes flickered with a new spark as he felt it: his strength had grown.

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A smirk slowly crept across his face. The agony, which moments ago had threatened to tear him apart, now seemed a distant memory. "I've done it... finally... seven stars," he whispered to himself, his voice quiet but filled with triumph.

[So, at last, one of your clones has reached seven stars,] the system chimed in, its tone dripping with smugness. [Took you long enough.]

"Yeah, yeah..." Lucas muttered, still feeling the lingering ache from the tribulation. "But that seventh thunder tribulation was no joke. It was brutal." He winced, the echoes of pain still vibrating through his body. "Too painful, honestly."

The system let out a mock laugh, clearly enjoying Lucas's discomfort. [Oh, come on, pain builds character. No pain, no gain, remember? Besides, you should be used to this by now.] Its voice was filled with arrogance, as though enduring such agony was just part of the game.

Lucas rolled his eyes. "Damn it. You always say that." He shook his head, still slightly irritated. "Anyway, how's the mana storage? is it full?."

[Of course it's full,] the system answered, now sounding confident, almost boastful. [You think I'd let anything slip? The Divine Masks you've spread via the corpse puppets have been sucking up mana like a vacuum—treasures, corpses, everything in their path. The storage is overflowing. You should be thanking me.]

A slow grin began to form on Lucas's face. "Good. Then it seems we can finally start the plan."

[Finally!] the system said, with an exaggerated sigh of relief. [I was starting to think you'd never get here. So, what's the big move? How do you plan to kick it off?]

Lucas turned his gaze toward the smoldering remains of the battlefield, eyes locking onto the charred corpses of Sylra and Kaelor. His grin widened, mischief glinting in his eyes. "We've got everything we need right here, don't we?"

The system chuckled darkly, its tone now gleefully sinister. [I see...] it purred, the satisfaction in its voice palpable.

[You're going to make good use of them. I like it. You really do have a knack for turning corpses into opportunity.] It paused, almost mockingly. [But don't get too full of yourself. Remember, you'd be nowhere without me.]

Lucas smirked, ignoring the system's shameless self-praise as he glanced once more at the battlefield, knowing that the next phase of his plan was about to unfold.


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