Chapter 290: The path to godhood

"What?!" Alex gasped, flabbergasted. Only eight Lords made it out alive? "That can't be right. Over three billion people transmigrated, practically everyone except the elderly and children. Everything seemed fine before I arrived!"This was huge! How could she have overlooked such crucial information? If thirty billion people crossed over, wouldn't humanity be extinct?

"Perhaps we're not from the same world," Edgar suggested, a knowing look in his eyes.

"Parallel universes?" Alex breathed, stunned.

"Transmigration is real, so why not parallel universes?" Edgar countered, leaving Alex speechless. He had a point. It was the only logical explanation.

But dwelling on the multiverse wasn't a priority. Alex needed intel on the previous batch of Lords. Or were there even earlier generations?

"Were there other Lords before you?" she pressed, her gaze fixed on Edgar.

"Yes," he confirmed, a hint of solemnity in his voice.

Just as she suspected!

"We don't even know which batch we were. We were just as shocked as you when we encountered the previous generation. Seeing them, learning about even earlier Lords...it led us to a bold theory."

Edgar handed Alex back her scythe. "This world...it didn't originally have races. We believe all the races are descended from the troops of past Lords!"

"This weapon is powerful. It will serve you well," he added, but Alex barely registered his words. She was floored.

"How old is this world?" she asked, her mind racing.

"I don't know for sure. Eldoria has existed for at least tens of thousands of years. A new batch of Lords arrives every millennium, like clockwork." Edgar himself had no knowledge of the world's true age.

Tens of thousands of years? That meant dozens of Lord generations!

If Edgar and the others were right, Eldoria was once a barren wasteland. Then, the first Lords arrived, summoning troops and waging war. The troops of fallen Lords were either enslaved, scattered, or completely wiped out.

But even a handful of surviving troops, given millennia to develop, could become a distinct race.

Especially after the system vanished after a century, eliminating experience gain from combat. Those surviving troops would be left to their own devices, free from systematic culling.

Even if Alex hadn't completely conquered the man-eating ant kingdom, she wouldn't need to worry about their revenge. Their strength capped at Monarch level. Why would a King level like her worry about a few ants?

Then again, who knew what mutations and advancements millennia could bring? But after a certain point, who cared? Lords would be ancient history.

So, the races populating the continents were remnants of the first Lords' wars, multiplying with each subsequent generation of Lords. The world became a chaotic tapestry of power struggles, until eventually, the native races established their dominance, shaping the world as they saw fit.

That's why the current races were so powerful, while the Lords were locked in their own petty squabbles. At this rate, their numbers would only dwindle further.

Eight survived from Edgar's batch. How many would make it from hers? Three? One? Or would they all perish?

"How many Lords are still alive now? Are any from your generation still around?" Alex asked, seizing the opportunity to glean as much information from Edgar as possible.

"After losing the system and assimilating for centuries, we're no longer Lords. Even if I encountered one, I wouldn't recognize them. And how would I even learn such a thing?" Edgar sighed, settling onto a boulder. Alex sat beside him.

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"This world is vast. Seven continents scattered across its expanse, impossible to traverse without divine power. Perhaps some from the previous generation still live. But I can tell you this: I'm the last of my batch."

"Could the current humans be the descendants of those original Lords?" Alex pondered. The native humans consist of three races, along with the divisions of the Holy Court and the Mage Association.

If this hypothesis is correct, the reason humans stand at the pinnacle of power today might not be due to just one Lord or their troops.

"I've been stuck here for far too long. There's much I don't know. But I'm fairly certain some remnants of the previous Lords still exist within the human race," Edgar agreed, his voice heavy with unspoken knowledge.

Alex's suspicions were confirmed. The humans were different, their actions shrouded in mystery. There had to be more to the story.

"How did the war between Lords end?" Alex asked, shifting gears since Edgar's knowledge of the current situation was limited.

Edgar raised a finger, pointing ahead. Despite being a Lord from millennia past, he was still a modern man underneath, just like Alex. They understood each other. The only difference was the weight of centuries etched on his face.

"One? Only one faction can survive?" Alex guessed, recalling his earlier gesture and the fact that eight from his generation had survived.

"When the century ends, the system strips all Lords ranked outside the top ten of their status, turning them into Freelancers. Then, it disappears."

"Of course, if a Lord conquers the world before the century is up, the system disappears prematurely. The victor receives a reward: the remnants of the system's power. But there's a catch. Only one Lord can remain."

Alex's eyes narrowed. The conditions for ending the war were simple: either secure a spot in the top ten within a century or conquer everything yourself. seaʀᴄh thё NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

But that only ended the war between Lords. What about the local forces?

"The reward for harnessing the system's remnants must be incredible," Alex mused, her curiosity piqued.

Edgar chuckled, surprised that her first thought was about the reward. "One remaining Lord includes those who submitted, but not allies. So, if you have any allies, don't get too close. They'll eventually turn on you."

"As for the reward...it's the same for anyone who achieves unification within the century: the path to godhood."

"The path to godhood?" Alex echoed, her brow furrowing.

"Can't one ascend to godhood through their own talent?" She thought of the seven race kings with their Divine level potential. If their limits reached that high, it had to be possible.

Edgar shook his head, a hint of sadness in his eyes. "Perhaps. But no one I know of has ever received that reward, nor has anyone achieved godhood in my lifetime. Understand this, the system's reward can shave centuries off your journey. In the past millennium, only one being has ascended to Divine level – a young mage from the Mage Association."

Alex nodded slowly, her earlier excitement fading. She knew full well that the Lords' rapid growth was entirely thanks to the system. Without it, they were lambs to the slaughter, barely clinging to survival, let alone vying for dominance.

Then again, if it weren't for that blasted system, they wouldn't be stuck in this mess in the first place!

It seemed the path to godhood was incredibly difficult. At this rate, most wouldn't stand a chance. Alex had envisioned her undead empire teeming with gods, crushing all opposition. Reality, it seemed, had other plans.

"Ruby's father once told me that those who reach Sovereign level have found their own path to godhood. Otherwise, they wouldn't have reached that level in the first place," Alex recalled, a flicker of hope returning.

"That's not entirely wrong," Edgar conceded. "But didn't he ultimately perish on his own path? Finding the path and walking it are two different things. You're still young, your level too low. Everyone's path is different. Knowing this now won't benefit you.

You'll understand when the time is right."

Edgar's words resonated with Alex. Ruby's father, a man of unparalleled talent, the first of their generation, couldn't even achieve godhood. It was clear that reaching Divine level was incredibly difficult.