Chapter 135 | The Dead God Domain

Chapter 135: 135 | The Dead God Domain

Finally, Andrew finally appeared back in Heaven’s Domain.

When he materialized, he was standing in the exact same spot where he had left. The corpse of the monsters he had defeated was still lying on the ground, motionless and cold. The mysterious door that had just opened was still open, waiting for him.

Andrew stood still for a moment, staring at the door. He took a breath, then stepped through.

What appeared in front of him was not the white space he was used to. Instead, it was a passage.

The passage was extremely wide and tall, stretching far beyond what his eyes could immediately take in. The walls were smooth and dark, disappearing into shadows on both sides. Andrew walked in, but he didn’t rush. He moved slowly, carefully, one deliberate step at a time.

Because at that moment, his danger sense started to tingle.

A familiar alarm bell ringing in the back of his skull, warning him that something lay ahead. He stopped walking and closed his eyes, trying to witness what was coming.

What he saw was incredibly strange.

It wasn’t a clear vision of danger. It wasn’t a monster or a trap or a specific threat. It was something far more unsettling. His future was uncertain. Completely uncertain. If he entered this passage, the path ahead split into two possibilities—either he would live, or he would die. There was no middle ground. No third option. No certainty either way.

Andrew opened his eyes.

He stood there, frozen, staring into the dark passage ahead of him. His jaw tightened. His fists clenched at his sides. The uncertainty was maddening. He had faced danger before—real danger, the kind that wanted to kill him. But he had always known it was there. He had always been able to see it coming, prepare for it, plan around it. This was different. This was a coin flip with his life on the line, and he couldn’t even see the coin.

Frustration boiled inside him. His teeth ground together so hard his jaw ached. He wanted to turn back. Every instinct screamed at him to turn back, to leave this place, to find another way.

But there was no other way.

He gritted his teeth and walked forward.

---

The passage opened into something that made Andrew stop dead in his tracks.

A palace.

Not just a palace. A massive palace. An impossibly massive palace that stretched in every direction, its walls rising so high they vanished into shadows above. The space was almost a full kilometer in radius—a single, enormous hall of breathtaking scale. The ceiling arched overhead like the sky itself, supported by pillars so thick that ten men couldn’t wrap their arms around them.

At the far end of the palace sat a throne.

The throne was enormous. A hundred meters long, it rose from the floor like a monument, carved from something dark and ancient, its surface covered in intricate patterns that seemed to shift and move when Andrew wasn’t looking directly at them.

But the throne wasn’t the most shocking part.

The entire palace was made of diamond. Gold. Precious stones and materials that Andrew couldn’t even name. The walls gleamed with embedded gems. The floors were paved with polished diamond tiles that reflected his reflection back at him. Sculptures lined the hallways—statues of figures in poses of power and grace, each one carved from pure gold or crystal or materials even more valuable.

Andrew’s eyes widened. His mouth went dry.

If he could peel the gold off these walls... if he could take the diamonds from these floors... if he could strip this palace down to its bones and carry the materials out—

He would be rich. Not just comfortable. Not just well-off. Rich for life. Filthy, staggeringly, impossibly rich. The kind of rich that meant he would never have to struggle again. Never have to risk his life entering domains. Never have to fight and bleed and scrape by for pocket change.

He could use the money to buy ingredients. Rare materials. Genetic serums. Cultivation resources. Everything he needed to level himself up, laid out before him in gleaming, glittering abundance.

The greed hit him like a wave. Hot, urgent, almost overwhelming. His fingers twitched at his sides, already imagining the weight of gold in his hands.

But he pushed it down. He forced himself to keep walking.

He crossed the entire kilometer of the palace hall, one step at a time, his footsteps echoing in the vast emptiness. The sound bounced off the diamond walls and came back to him in waves, making the silence feel even heavier. He passed sculptures. He passed pillars. He passed treasures beyond counting, each one more valuable than anything he had ever owned.

He didn’t touch any of them.

He kept his eyes forward and walked until he stood directly in front of the massive throne.

He tilted his head back, looking up at it. It towered above him, a monument of dark stone and gold, empty and silent. What kind of person could sit on a throne this size? What kind of being needed a seat a hundred meters long?

Then his face changed.

The realization hit him like a punch to the chest. The scale. The structure. The way the space felt—not like a room, but like a world unto itself. The way the walls didn’t feel like walls but like boundaries. The way the air itself seemed to hum with a dormant, ancient power that was bigger than anything he had encountered.

This was a god’s domain.

His own god domain—the one he conjured when he entered his god form—was small. Weak. Fragile. A makeshift construct that he had to build from scratch every time, like erecting a tent in a storm. It was enough to function, but barely. And every time he used it, he could feel other gods watching. Prying. Studying him through the cracks.

But this... this was a real god domain. A permanent one. Built to last. Crafted from materials that defied imagination, shaped on a scale that made his own domain look like a child’s sandcastle.

And it was abandoned.

The god who owned it was dead.

Andrew’s shock lasted exactly three seconds. Then it was replaced by something far more powerful.

Excitement.

A dead god’s domain could be taken. Claimed. Seized by another god—*if* they could find the core. The control center. The heart of the domain that governed everything within it. If he could find that core and bind it to himself, this entire palace—this kilometer-wide treasure vault of diamond and gold—would become his.

He wouldn’t need to conjure a weak, temporary god domain anymore. He wouldn’t need to rebuild it every time he entered his god form. He would have a permanent domain. A real one. One that came with walls of diamond and a throne a hundred meters long and enough wealth to buy a nation.

And he wouldn’t have to be afraid of other gods prying at him through the cracks.

Andrew didn’t hesitate. He closed his eyes and spread his omniscience perception outward, letting it wash across the palace like a sonar pulse. It swept over the floor, the walls, the pillars, the sculptures, the throne—searching, scanning, hunting for the core.

The perception bounced back, painting a picture of the entire domain in his mind. Every corner. Every crevice. Every hidden space.

And there, at the side of the throne, something registered.

A sword.

Andrew opened his eyes and looked.

It was planted in the ground beside the throne, its blade buried several inches into the diamond floor. Compared to the hundred-meter throne beside it, the sword was incredibly small. It was about Andrew’s height—tall enough for a man, but laughably tiny next to the monument it sat beside.

That was why he had ignored it.

He had walked past it on his way to the throne without a second glance. It was small. It was planted in the ground. It sat beside the throne like a tool leaning against a wall. He had assumed it was some kind of gear—maybe a lever to shift the throne, maybe a decorative piece, maybe nothing important at all.

But now, standing directly in front of it, looking at it properly for the first time, Andrew realized how wrong he had been.

The sword was extremely black. Not dark. Not shadowed. *Black.* A deep, absolute, consuming black that seemed to drink in the light around it, as though the blade itself were a hole in reality. And it was dripping—a thick, dark liquid seeping slowly down the blade and pooling at the hilt, though the liquid evaporated before it ever reached the ground.

As Andrew stood before it, his face changed.

The energy radiating from this sword was terrifying. Not just powerful. *Terrifying.* It pressed against his skin like a physical weight, making the hair on his arms stand on end and his breath catch in his throat. It was ancient and cold and sharp, and it carried with it the unmistakable presence of something that had killed things far more powerful than him.

It was releasing a far more terrifying energy than his God Slayer blade.

Andrew chuckled. A short, disbelieving sound that escaped his throat before he could stop it. God Slayer blade might have actually met its match. More than its match, possibly. The energy coming off this sword made God Slayer feel like a kitchen knife.

He stared at the blade, his mind racing. The placement. The energy. The connection to the domain. It all clicked into place at once.

This sword was the core.

The core of the entire god domain palace. The heart that governed everything within these diamond walls. The key to claiming this place as his own.

For him to take it, he would have to take control of the entire domain through the blade. He would have to bind it to himself, make it recognize him as its new master, and bend the dormant power of this dead god’s creation to his will.

If the god were still alive, that would have been impossible.

Completely, laughably impossible. He was a level 10 brat. A nobody. A speck of dust standing in the shadow of a being that had built a palace out of diamond and gold and sculpted an entire world to house their throne.

But the god was dead.

And the domain was waiting.