Divine Mask: I Have Numerous God Clones

Thalnor welcomed Hades into his dimly lit residence, the oppressive atmosphere thick with a foreboding tension. Without hesitation, he guided Hades through a narrow, shadowy corridor that led to a concealed chamber. As the heavy door creaked open, the stench of decay hit Hades like a wave, thick and nauseating.

Hades' sharp gaze swept over the room, taking in every grim detail—the dark stains of blood smeared across the walls, the faint but unmistakable residue of death mana clinging to the air like a lingering curse.

The space was cluttered with grotesque instruments, tools designed for dark and twisted purposes. Hades felt a smirk tug at the corner of his mouth, though he kept it hidden. "So, this is where he conducts his vile rituals," he thought, amused.

Outwardly, Hades maintained a perfectly neutral expression, betraying none of his thoughts. "How exactly do you plan to train me, Elder?" he asked, his voice calm yet tinged with mild curiosity, as if merely indulging Thalnor's game.

Elder Thalnor's grin widened, his eyes gleaming with sinister intent. "The training is quite simple, Hades," he said, his voice smooth and full of dark promise. "I can help you ascend far quicker than you ever could on your own."

The confidence in his tone was almost sickening, as if he believed his every word carried the weight of undeniable truth. "With my methods, you'll reach the Six-Star level in no time," he added, a slight curl of arrogance in his smile.

Hades tilted his head, a faint flicker of amusement dancing in his eyes. "Oh? And just how do you intend to accomplish that, Elder?" His voice was laced with curiosity, though the subtle edge in his tone suggested skepticism.

Thalnor's grin never faltered. He met Hades' gaze without hesitation, his confidence unwavering. "It's all about pushing your limits, accelerating your cultivation through techniques only known to a few. With my guidance, you'll reach a level of power most can only dream of."

His tone was smooth, almost too smooth, carrying an unsettling confidence. It was the voice of someone who believed they were always in control.

Hades raised an eyebrow, the faintest flicker of amusement playing at his lips. "Is that so? And these methods—how exactly do you plan to use them?"

Thalnor chuckled softly, a glint of anticipation flickering in his eyes. "You'll see soon enough." He motioned deeper into the lab, his voice steady and commanding. "Follow me."

Without a word, Hades followed, his footsteps quiet as they echoed through the narrow corridor. The silence between them was heavy, thick with unspoken tension, until they arrived in a vast, dimly lit chamber.

In the center, a sinister formation sprawled across the floor, etched in dried blood. The grotesque symbols pulsated with a faint dark energy, humming with an ancient malevolence.

"Please," Thalnor said, his voice unnervingly pleasant, as if he were offering a gift, "step into the middle."

Hades' eyes swept over the blood-drawn symbols, the familiar dark energy radiating from them stirring no fear in him.

He recognized this ritual instantly—exactly as he had expected. An inward smirk tugged at his thoughts, but outwardly, he remained composed, his expression calm and unreadable.

"I'm ready, Elder," Hades said, his voice steady, almost mocking in its politeness. There was a faint edge of amusement, though his tone remained respectful, hiding the storm brewing beneath.

Thalnor's grin widened in response, eyes gleaming with barely restrained excitement. He gripped his staff with both hands, savoring the moment. "Good," he murmured, his voice lowering into a dark chuckle. "You have no idea how long I've waited for this."

"Oh, I think I do," Hades thought to himself, though he remained outwardly obedient, his face giving nothing away.

With a swift and almost eager movement, Thalnor slammed his staff into the center of the blood-drawn formation. The symbols on the ground pulsed violently as the entire circle began to glow with a sickly red light.

Dark energy erupted from the formation, swirling around Hades like a malevolent storm. In moments, walls of pure death mana encased him, trapping him inside as the ritual took hold. The air grew thick, suffocating, as the energy pressed in on him.

Suddenly, Hades felt an excruciating pain rip through his entire body, as though his very soul was being torn apart. He staggered, his face twisting into an expression of anguish, though inwardly, he remained calm.

"What… what is this, Elder?" Hades cried out, his voice trembling with fear. He staggered, clutching at his sides as though overwhelmed by the pain coursing through his body. His performance was flawless, his limbs shaking, his breaths ragged. His face contorted in agony, eyes wide with panic as he stumbled within the swirling walls of death mana.

"Elder, please!" he gasped, his voice breaking, as though desperate for answers, his gaze pleading. "What's happening? Why… why does it hurt so much?"

Thalnor's smirk deepened, his eyes gleaming with sadistic pleasure. He watched Hades writhe in apparent agony, savoring every moment of his so-called victory. The elder's laughter filled the chamber, cold and triumphant.

"Oh, Hades," Thalnor sneered, his voice dripping with malice. "Finally, you've fallen into my trap."

Hades' knees buckled, and he collapsed to the ground, clutching his chest as if the pain was unbearable. His breaths came in shallow gasps as he looked up at Thalnor, eyes filled with fear. "Trap? Elder… what trap?" he whimpered, his voice shaking as though he couldn't comprehend the betrayal. "I don't… understand… Why are you doing this?"

Thalnor stepped closer, towering over Hades, his grin widening. "You truly don't see it, do you?" he said, his tone mocking and filled with glee. "It was all too easy. You, Hades, are nothing more than a pawn, a piece in a much grander game."

Hades gasped in response, clutching at the ground as though trying to steady himself. "Please… no," he whispered, shaking his head in disbelief, his body trembling. "Elder, I trusted you…"

Thalnor chuckled, the sound dark and filled with cruelty. "Trust? Foolish boy. You were never meant to walk out of here alive," he hissed, his tone low and filled with satisfaction. "All this time, you thought I was training you. But no, you've merely been fattened up for the slaughter."

Hades groaned, curling into himself as if the pain had intensified. "Elder… please…" he whimpered, his voice cracking, selling the illusion of helplessness. "I don't want to die."

Thalnor looked down at him, eyes glinting with twisted delight. "It's far too late for that, Hades," he said with a slow, menacing smile. "You were destined for this moment. There's no escape."

Hades' breathing grew heavier, his body convulsing as if the pressure of the death mana was crushing him from the inside. He let out a strangled cry, his voice raw and desperate. "Why… why me? What do you want?"

Thalnor leaned in, his grin stretching wider. "You'll find out soon enough," he whispered, his voice a chilling promise. "But first, I'm going to enjoy watching you break."

As Hades continued to act the part of a broken, terrified victim, his mind worked behind the scenes, carefully calculating every move. He had seen this trap coming, but he needed to play along—just long enough to let Thalnor believe he had won.