From God of Lies to Lord of All Worlds

Chapter 124: Confrontation

"The Rain God of Aztec mythology, the Creator God, Crown Tlaloc?" Angus was, after all, someone who had survived the storm in Luo City; he naturally recognized this name.

After all, in every conceivable way, the people of Luo City owed this deity a massive debt of gratitude. If not for his timely appearance, the Feathered Serpent God Quetzalcoatl might have actually destroyed the world!

The revelation of this name also, in a certain sense, cleared up Angus's confusion.

No wonder he had sensed such a unique aura radiating from the man. It turned out to be the undeniable presence of a God.

Only those who had truly stepped into Transcendence could understand just how palpable Transcendent power truly was.

Yet the man standing before him possessed a power far more miraculous than mere Transcendence. It was a tranquil yet naturally supreme force, bearing a striking resemblance to the power of Angels. It was the absolute power of a God!

"Yes, it is I!" Tlaloc declared. He casually strolled up to Angus and slowly took a seat. "Care to chat?"

"Alright," Angus nodded. He had no grounds to refuse, even if the being sitting across from him was a foreign deity.

Christianity actually harbored a rather complex attitude toward pagan gods. Their approach had evolved over many years, shifting from absolute eradication in the beginning to a gradual, reluctant coexistence.

Much like how the lore of Norse mythology was recorded and preserved by clergymen, they were not entirely intolerant of other pantheons.Not to mention, the Rain God Tlaloc sitting before him commanded terrifying power.

Atop the roof overlooking the subsiding Tsunami, the two gazed at the distant shield of light. As they watched the rain taper off over the devastated city, both were lost in their own thoughts.

"As you likely know, I have visited this world once before," Tlaloc remarked.

Angus nodded. "Yes, I am aware. You... intervened in Luo City and stopped the furious Feathered Serpent God."

"Quetzalcoatl is simply like that. He always had a foul temper, and your people killed his Faithful. Naturally, he intended to rain down destruction!" Tlaloc explained. "However, I felt that senseless annihilation was uncalled for, so I put a stop to it."

The deity's expression remained perfectly placid as he recounted the past. "But he resented my interference. Out of spite, he snatched away my little pet and tossed it into this world!"

"Namely, Atlas."

Watching the giant serpent act so affectionately toward the man, Angus's mouth twitched. To these Gods, a terrifying Monster capable of leveling an entire city—a beast Angus had to risk his very life to barely contain—was nothing more than a little pet!

This apocalyptic disaster was merely the result of a petty squabble between deities? What a thoroughly demoralizing realization!

"Since you have achieved your goal, does that mean you will be returning now?" Angus inquired.

A deity of the Original Inhabitants had personally appeared to explain the cause of this crisis. Angus certainly harbored no delusions that this mighty being would offer them any form of compensation for the collateral damage.

"You need not worry about me attacking you. In truth, if I actually wanted to fight, not a single soul in your city would survive," Tlaloc chuckled, noting Angus's wary gaze. He spoke as if merely stating an undeniable fact.

He stared fixedly at Angus, his gaze seeming to pierce through the clergyman to observe the unfathomable entities backing him from afar.

Yet Angus could also sense that Tlaloc was genuinely a rather mild-tempered deity. Compared to the bloodthirsty gods of Aztec mythology who routinely demanded mass sacrifices and threatened world destruction over the slightest offense, his mildness was almost unbelievable.

"Then what exactly is your purpose for being here?" Angus probed.

This deity's attitude was far too accommodating—so much so that it filled Angus with a creeping dread. As a majestic God, he had no reason to act this way. He had no reason to be this friendly to a mere mortal!

Unless, of course, he harbored a far greater ulterior motive!

"I came here to have a word with your God!" Tlaloc declared. "I wish to see Jehovah!"

The moment that sacred name was uttered, Angus felt his entire body violently shudder. Immediately after, a terrifying, overwhelming aura erupted from the Cross resting against his chest!

"You... you dare to speak His name so casually!" Angus stammered, his voice quivering. Blinding light blossomed from his flesh, forcing him to his feet as an awe-inspiring presence continuously radiated from his body.

The pressure signaled the descent of a truly terrifying entity, an existence that could only be one thing... an Angel!

Sure enough, radiant light unfurled around Angus, and a soft whisper echoed in his ear. "I shall speak with him." Suddenly, Angus's entire demeanor shifted. His expression turned extraordinarily majestic and solemn, radiating a cold, unyielding severity. "Tlaloc. Or perhaps I should call you... Chaac?"

"Call me whatever you wish!" Tlaloc dismissed casually. He locked eyes with Angus, his gaze piercing through the mortal shell to address the Soul residing within. "It has been a long time, Metatron!"

Hearing that name, Angus—who was now reduced to a mere spectator within his own mind—was utterly stunned. He had assumed a familiar Angel like Gabriel or Raziel would answer the call. He never in his wildest dreams imagined that the descending entity would be Metatron!

Metatron. The Archangel, King of Angels, Guardian of the Divine Throne, Vice Regent of the Heavenly Kingdom, Chancellor of Heaven, the Angel of the Thrones, the divine proxy, the Heavenly Scribe...

In certain ancient texts, the status of this Archangel was recorded as being even higher than that of Jesus. After all, His name did not appear in standard Christian or Catholic Church scriptures; He was only explicitly documented within the sacred texts of Judaism.

But all such theological debates were now completely irrelevant. After all, He had physically descended upon this world, using Angus's body as a mortal vessel to converse with the pagan deity sitting before them!

From their casual exchange, it was blatantly obvious that the two divine beings had crossed paths many, many years ago.

"To beings such as us, a few meager centuries hardly qualifies as a long time," Metatron retorted smoothly. "State your purpose for coming, Tlaloc. I am not like you; I cannot remain in this mortal realm for long!"

Tlaloc laughed heartily. "You Angels... in the end, you still aren't true Gods. We are fundamentally different! You wield the power of a God and enforce the authority of a God, yet you are utterly devoid of a God's supreme dignity!"

"You so-called deities lack even the courage to face death. How dare you patronize us with such words?" Metatron shot back, refusing to yield an inch. "The Lord is the one and only absolute truth. All false gods shall eventually face annihilation!"

"Save that righteous speech for the day you actually manage to conquer the Thirteenth Heaven. Right now, you are merely throwing around empty, powerless threats!" Tlaloc retorted lazily. "Judging by your pristine condition, I assume your faction has fully recovered from the damages sustained during the War of All Worlds?"

Metatron offered a curt nod. "We are mostly restored. A vast number of my brethren are currently freeing up their hands to purge Hell! Once all wickedness is expunged, the universe shall flourish in eternal prosperity!"

"You self-righteous Charlatans love speaking in cryptic riddles all day long. How dreadfully boring!" Tlaloc scoffed. "Unlike our divine pantheons. We speak our minds plainly and act on our desires openly!"

"Which perfectly explains why your Faithful on this mortal plane were very nearly wiped from existence!" Metatron ruthlessly struck at Tlaloc's sore spot. "Your chaotic indiscipline may breed immense individual Combat Power, but it also renders your armies utterly useless. Your legions shatter at the slightest resistance on a real battlefield!"

"What is the point of incessantly dragging up the War of All Worlds? Every faction suffered astronomical losses. Do you truly believe significantly more of your holy soldiers survived than ours?" Tlaloc frowned in annoyance. "You are acting unusually barbed today. It seems the divine orders you received are leaving a very sour taste in your mouth!"

Metatron glared at him coldly before finally letting out a weary sigh. "The Lord has decreed... it is permitted."

"Hahahahaha!" Tlaloc burst into uproarious laughter. "And this is precisely why I prefer negotiating with your faction! Compared to those bloodthirsty warmongers hoarding the World Tree, those deranged sacrifice-obsessed maniacs in the desert, and the absolute degenerates residing on Mount Olympus, Jehovah is a remarkably reasonable deity!"

"Granted, this reasonable deity once launched a brutal crusade into the desert realm, physically shattered half of the World Tree, and forced even Zeus to bow his head in submission... but at the very least, He abides by His own strict rules!"

Tlaloc's casual remarks painted a picture of an unimaginably violent, mythic past. The sheer respect laced within the mockery caused the rigid expression on Metatron's face to soften slightly.

The entity the pagan god was grudgingly praising was the Almighty Himself. As His most loyal servant, Metatron had to show at least a modicum of graciousness in return.

"The Church shall issue a holy edict, officially permitting your Faithful to preach freely across these lands! This is our absolute maximum concession."

Hearing this grand declaration, a cynical smirk tugged at Tlaloc's lips. "Requiring your express permission to spread our faith on the very continent our pantheon forged... Oh, the bitter irony."

"And who is to blame but your own incompetent Faithful?" Metatron shot back icily. "Had your followers been the ones to successfully conquer the distant continents, wouldn't our current positions be reversed?"

"If the tables were truly turned, that Overlord of yours would have smashed straight into the Thirteenth Heaven to personally interrogate our Creator God! Hmph, so much for your benevolent Almighty—He is nothing but violently overprotective!" Tlaloc waved his hand dismissively, his gaze shifting back to the colossal wall of water looming on the horizon. "Enough banter. Let us conclude this."

Right before their very eyes, the apocalyptic Tsunami rapidly collapsed. Within a mere handful of breaths, the raging ocean receded and returned to an eerie, glass-like tranquility, as if the world-ending disaster had never occurred.

The only evidence left behind was the catastrophic debris littering the coastline, the small crowd of lucky survivors trembling on the beach, and Angus and Alex, both wearing expressions of absolute bewilderment.