Imp to Demon King: A Journey of Conquest

Before Adam could join the Hecatoncheires for the final battle, his God Slayer blade convulsed in his grip like a living thing. Pain lanced through his soul, forcing him to drop to one knee as his chest burned with an intensity that made divine fire seem cool by comparison.

"What—" he gasped, his breathing becoming ragged as his mind raced through possibilities. Had he absorbed too much divine essence? Was his body finally reaching its limits?

With trembling fingers, he summoned his interface. The familiar window materialised before him—fire that burned like distant stars against a void that flowed like dark water, notifications blazing at its center like accusatory eyes.

[You have defeated the tier 9 level 100 boss: Aphrodite, Goddess of Love and Beauty! You have gained 150.000.000 experience points.

[You have defeated the tier 9 level 100 boss: Hephaestus, God of the Forge! You have gained 200.000.000 experience points.]

[You have defeated the tier 9 level 100 boss: Artemis, Goddess of the Hunt and the Moon! You have gained 400.000.000 experience points.

[Achilles has defeated the tier 9 level 100 boss: Ares, God of War! You have gained 400.000.000 experience points.]

[Achilles has defeated the tier 9 level 100 boss: Athena, Goddess of Wisdom and Warfare! You have gained 400.000.000 experience points.]

[You have defeated the tier 9 level 100 boss: Hermes, Messenger of the Gods! You have gained 150.000.000 experience points.]

[You have defeated the tier 9 level 100 boss: Hera, Queen of the Gods! You have gained 300.000.000 experience points.]

[You have defeated the tier 9 level 100 boss: Demeter, Goddess of the Harvest! You have gained 300.000.000 experience points.]

[You have defeated the tier 9 level 100 boss: Dionysus, God of Wine and Revelry! You have gained 200.000.000 experience points.]

[The god slayer's Gluttony's Maw enhancement has stolen 18.200 units of divine energy from the Olympians.]

[Your chaotic body has assimilated seven new authorities.]

The numbers meant nothing in the face of the sensation that was now searing through his very essence. Without hesitation, he shifted to his status panel.

Name: Adam

Race: Twilight Draconian Emperor

Affinity: Chaos

﹂Plasma, Space,

Talent: EX grade: From gamer to god!

Job: God of Freedom and Vengeance

Class: Titan Slayer

LVL: 94->97

Exp: 1.419.000.000/2.016.000.000

HP: 360.000/382.200

Vitality: 167->170 (+450) (+37.600) = 9.055->38.220

Strength: 176->179 (+599) (+37.600) = 9.387->38.199

Agility: 182->185 (+601) (+37.600) = 9.204->38.201

Primordial chaotic essence: 4.306->18.800

Free attribute points: 15->0

Items: Chaosbringer, Magical cube, Amaterasu no Tamoto, Eye of the Demon King, Draconic Bracelet

The exponential growth in his power should have been cause for celebration, but instead, it felt like molten metal flowing through his veins. His God Slayer's hilt was now burning white-hot, its temperature rising beyond what even his fire-immune skin could comfortably endure.

"What in the seven layers of the abyss is happening to me?" His voice cracked as his fingers twitched around the scalding weapon. Every instinct screamed at him to release it, but he held on, knuckles white with strain.

Achilles' concerned hand fell on his shoulder. "Defeating seven gods is unprecedented in mortal history," he said, his voice tight with worry. "The Hecatoncheires can hold their own if you need time to—"

"That's not it." Adam's words came through gritted teeth as waves of agony crashed through his nervous system. Sweat beaded on his forehead despite his resistance to heat, his body trembling as if struck by some divine plague.

Achilles crouched beside him, eyes scanning the battlefield for threats. "Is it divine retaliation? Some final curse from the fallen gods?"

As the question left Achilles' lips, understanding crashed over him like a thunderbolt. His head snapped upward, squinting against the blazing orb that dominated the sky above Olympus. There, silhouetted against the sun's corona, was a figure he should never have forgotten.

"Apollo," he whispered, then his voice rose to a roar that echoed across the mountain. "I should never have forgotten about you, you golden-haired peacock!"

The Sun God's laughter rang out like the chiming of perfect bells, musical and mocking in equal measure. "Did you think I would cower while mortals butchered my family?" Apollo's voice carried all the warmth of summer and all the cruelty of drought. "You may have caught the others off guard, but I have had time to prepare."

Adam struggled to his feet, his God Slayer still burning in his grip. But before he could speak, Achilles stepped forward, his face twisted with ancient fury.

"Apollo," Achilles said, his voice carrying the weight of centuries-old hatred. "The god who thinks himself more handsome than the stars themselves. Here's some fresh news—I'm about to scar that pompous face beyond recognition before sending you to rot in the Styx's waters."

"Such crude threats," Apollo tsked, his form beginning to descend from his solar chariot. "And from the very mortal who fell to my guided arrow at Troy. Tell me, Achilles—do you still feel that bronze point in your heel? I remember the satisfaction of watching you die, calling out for justice that would never come."

The taunt struck home, and Achilles' grip tightened on Jörmungandr's Kiss. "I remember the pain, yes. But most of all, I remember the lesson it taught me about trusting gods."

Apollo's form blazed brighter as he descended, but this wasn't his usual divine radiance. The Sun God had been drawing power directly from his solar chariot throughout the battle, absorbing centuries of stored sunlight into his divine essence. His skin now gleamed like polished gold, and solar flares danced around his form like living creatures.

"You see," Apollo said, his voice resonating with accumulated power, "while you were playing with my lesser siblings, I was doing what I do best—preparing the perfect shot." He gestured to the sky, where his solar chariot continued to burn overhead, feeding him a constant stream of celestial energy. "I've absorbed enough solar power to level mountain ranges. My arrows now carry the concentrated fury of solar storms."

He landed gracefully on the marble steps, each footstep leaving glowing prints in the stone. In his hands, he carried a bow that seemed to be carved from crystallised sunlight itself, but now it pulsed with such intense energy that the air around it shimmered with heat distortion. The arrows in his quiver didn't just burn like miniature suns—they were miniature suns, each one containing enough compressed solar energy to incinerate armies.

Adam stepped back, recognising that this was Achilles' fight. The mythical figure's personal vendetta burned hotter than any divine flame, but even he could feel the waves of accumulated power radiating from Apollo's supercharged form.

"Achilles," Apollo called out with false civility, "surely you remember me? I guided Paris's arrow to your heel all those centuries ago. You died calling out for divine justice." His perfect smile turned predatory. "How does it feel to know that your death was orchestrated by a god you can never hope to defeat? And that the same god will kill you a second time?"