Chương 1: The Dragon God

WARHOL floated atop a vast, bubbling field of magma and flame. The earth broke and shattered as creatures from inside the earth clawed their way to the top. Ahead, far in the distance, was Fang Volcano. It was erupting in full force and spewing enough smoke, fire, and lava to melt whole nations. It was ascension time. That time of the decade when the strongest beast in an ocean of would-be tyrants finally had enough 'sources of power,' to ascend to Godhood...

well, they called it godhood, but it was only the lowest, technical level of godhood. The 'God' that was ascending now would have a long way to go before they reached true Godhood and would be welcomed among the Pantheon. Not that, that was ever going to happen. Near to his ear, a magical beetle capable of conveying speech from long-distances, emitted words from Frank. Frank and he weren't on good terms, not since Warhol's 'incident' a couple of years ago... Oh well. Life changes, doesn't it?

Now, they worked together, but only as the most distant of colleagues. And only during times of immense distress, like now, when a maniacal 'dragon god' was on the move.

"Do you see emergence yet?" Frank asked him.

"Not yet," Warhol replied.

"I'm seeing it still in the magma chamber. Will let you know when it pops out to say 'hi.'" In truth, he could've ended this battle-to-be a while ago. He could've teleported into the magma chamber, unleashed an [Ultra-Freeze], then cast [Earthquake] and reduced the dragon entity to rubble. But he didn't. And why? Because he was avoiding something he really didn't want to do...

With a great rumble, the volcano erupted yet more magma and black gushes before a beam of golden flame erupted from the center of the caldera. That was what he was looking for! The 'ascension beam,' as it was called. That unleashing of divine energy which signaled the birth of a new 'God'-level entity. Warhol sighed. If only the dragon had taken longer to 'molt.' Oh well, life is full of disappointments, yeah? Warhol looked at the beetle side-eyed and said, "Divine energy confirmed. Will move in shortly."

"Confirmed," was all Frank said back. Moments later a glorious golden shape — in the exact same hue as his own glorious golden chest plate, in fact — shot into the sky. Wings unfurled and sent crushing energy waves outward, causing huge magma tsunamis to form and slam into the few islands which remained in the churning fire sea that had once been a green paradise.

One such wave, over two hundred feet tall, came thrashing toward him, but Warhol gave it no heed: his magical barrier took the heat and death, and the wave went through him with a vaguely humanoid-shaped hole through its crashing body.

"Okay," he sighed, talking to himself.

"Show time!" He incanted [Teleport] and floated before the dragon deity's snout within a second. The dragon narrowed its eyes till a slit, obviously aware of who he was: "Ah, the Omni-Wizard," it spoke, its voice raspy and full of unearned confidence.

"I have been waiting for you. I must confess, although I have anticipated our battle, for I am a wise dragon god, am I not, in my infinite wisdom, I feel our battle is unneeded. I wish to offer you a position within my grand army of conquest. Follow me and I will spare your life." Warhol grunted. It was always a 'grand army of conquest.' For once, he would like an ascended entity to put together a 'grand army of healing and cooperation.' But no... it was always, always conquest!

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"Thanks, but no thanks," he told the dragon god. Valkathor, he thought its name was, not that it was important.

"I take it you won't stand down and I am going to have to put you out?" Valkathor laughed madly, as such entities typically did when confronted with a threat far beyond their ability to handle.

"I will turn you and your people to cinders! Woo and lament, mortal scum, when your family is bone and your nation ash, revel in despair and remember my one-time offer of mercy!" The dragon baby god, then unleashed a torrent of flame from its egg-smelling mouth. Although the flames were strong enough to melt anything, steel, adamantine, even, the flames bounced harmlessly off his barrier.

His [Reinforce: Skin Armor] incantation, though basic, held up against the test of time, which in this case, was one-in-the-same with psychopathic dragon gods. All the same, he infused his incantation with [-1000 Mana] to ensure he had the best protection — he only had the one life, after all! Once the flames stopped and Valkathor saw him unharmed, he did what any evil, upstart deity did — monologued about how they were 'holding back' and how their next attack was 'for the kill, so flee now!'

Not the worst way to hide one's fear, but also not the most original. Valkathor then twisted around and power-slapped him with its spiked tail; his system notified him of his incantation losing a couple of hundred of the mana he had imbued into it. The attack sent him flying and he crashed into and through several mountainous crags before coming to rest against a slightly bigger crag just able to take the momentum without breaking.

Before Warhol had a moment to think, what else, other than a concentrated power blast shot onto him like a blast from an angry god; the blast exploded and caused a great mushroom cloud to form in its wake. When the smoke cleared, Valkathor saw an unhurt and bored-looking Warhol standing at ground zero. His [Reinforce: Skin Armor] having held out easily against both attacks. Some frayed ends appeared on his robes, but nothing [Repair: Fabric] wouldn't fix.

Next to his ear, he heard Frank's become annoyed: "Stop toying around, Warhol, and kill this thing!" He rolled his eyes. Warhol incanted [Teleport] again and appeared before Valkathor. An incredulous look appeared on the dragon's face. Whatever the dragon was going to say, they didn't have time to say it, as Warhol unleashed his [Magic Shards] incantation, unleashing ten-thousand dagger-like magical formed blades against Valkathor's wings.

The dragon roared in pain as the daggers shred the dragon's flight talents causing it to plummet to the earth and slam into the lava with a massive shockwave. Once upon a time, Warhol would've felt pride at such an expertly handled attack. Now? It was just another day. Below, Valkathor clawed their way onto an island and bellowed their defiance. Above, Warhol checked his wristband time measurer. It was almost time for him to meet his son, the dreaded obligation. He groaned. Which meant, he had to end this soon.

Warhol wanted to savor the final moments of the battle, so instead of teleporting again, he flew down at a seared angle, one which would have torn apart airships, and punched the top of Valkathor's head, one of his more forceful [Power Punches] and forced the beast flat to the ground. Valkathor struggled to get up, his limbs moving but only in a jerking fashion.

"Honestly, Valky, I would say you put up a good fight, but it wasn't any different than the dozen odd other mad gods-to-be I put away. I think we should just end things here, then," Warhol slapped his hands together, incanting [Epic Blizzard] with an [Ice Storm] fusion with a [-5000] mana boost. His incantation was over in a literal flash. Gone were the fire, magma, lava, and heat; in its place, for as far as the eye could see, was snow and ice. Valkathor a frozen but sparkly statue of his former glory.

"At least now you will provide some aesthetic beauty to this desolate land..." His wristband made a sound.

"Crap," he told Frank through the beetle.

"I am going to be late. Until the next time, old friend." Warhol [Teleported] incanted back to his house and showered. His son would be back from the academy any moment. When they returned, they would expect him to begin their training. As far as he was concerned, it was a mistake to train his son; his son was nineteen years old and still high from the initial bloom of having a Deity System. But with a Cosmic Horror approaching their world, what choice did he have?

For, even he, the all-powerful Omni-Wizard, would need help with that kind of threat. And so, Warhol would train his son. Once, centuries ago, he had helped a rogue god in rebellion against the Pantheon and been rewarded for his efforts. He now had no choice but to share that reward, that source of his power, with his son and hoped it would go better than he feared. A knock at the door — "Dad? You home?" His son had returned. Now, it was time to hack the System.