Chapter 508: The Evil God Paradox

The battle among the eighteen candidates for the title of Evil God in Mosuli had been raging for months. The stalemate persisted because everyone knew there could only be one victor in the Evil God’s Arena. Trust was nonexistent, leading to a war of extraordinary brutality that had nearly decimated Mosuli’s population. This was the root of the conflict: while Evil Gods required faith, they were utterly indifferent to the survival of their followers, often pushing populations to the brink of collapse.

This was the quintessential Evil God Paradox.

Charlot Mecklenburg had captured a city. His first move was to gather intelligence from his labyrinth guardians, particularly from the defeated Evil God candidate, to understand the situation in Mosuli. He quickly made a decision—direct assault with no strategy.

Why bother with schemes when he had Yishemierlen?

After a brief respite, Charlot didn’t bother taking any newly subdued subordinates with him. Accompanied solely by Yishemierlen, he advanced toward the next town.

The Evil God candidates in Mosuli were initially merely astonished when the first candidate was eliminated from the arena. But when the second fell, panic swept through them. They dispatched their labyrinth guardians to seek information and establish contact with the others. Not long after, news of a third candidate’s defeat arrived...

For the first time, Charlot felt the exhilaration of dominating without tactics, cutting through opposition like a whirlwind.

However, his assault on the fourth town was met with disappointment—the Evil God candidate had fled in advance.

Mosuli was a small landmass. The distance between its eighteen towns was no more than a day’s walk for an average person. Such a density of towns would have been impossible in a pre-industrial age without modern agriculture to support such concentrated populations. Charlot noticed this peculiarity but dismissed it. As town after town fell, he quickly encountered his first significant resistance.

After leveling the eighth town, thirteen Evil God candidates formed an alliance to confront Charlot directly. The clash was swift and intense.

Charlot barely needed to lift a finger—Ishemierlen systematically slaughtered the Evil God candidates one after another.

These candidates, not yet reaching Saint rank, were no match for Yishemierlen, who had once been an Evil God.

Having crushed the alliance, Charlot spent three more days conquering all eighteen towns. He transformed each one into a labyrinth and...

He finally understood what Agmirlas had orchestrated.

By restoring Mosuli’s order and seizing control of its labyrinths, Charlot realized he now had the ability to recreate Mosuli in the real world—and he did.

When Mosuli reconnected to the world, it appeared in the Christopher District of the New Continent—the very place where the legendary Christopher first landed on the New Continent.

The New Continent, like the Old Continent, was divided into northern and southern regions, but instead of being separated by a strait, a narrow land bridge connected them. This land bridge was the Christopher District, with Mosuli at its narrowest point, flanked by two vast oceans.

Previously, Agmirlas had cast Charlot out into the Aggras Sea. This time, the Evil God transported him directly to the New Continent.

And this time, Charlot had no ship.

Charlot was left with only Yishemierlen as his subordinate, the eighteen towns of Mosuli, and fewer than ten thousand labyrinth guardians.

Charlot had to return to the Aggras Sea to reunite with his fleet and resume his labyrinth challenges. Gazing at the ocean, Charlot was overwhelmed with frustration. He needed a ship to set sail, but Mosuli’s towns, being small settlements of a few thousand people, lacked a shipbuilding industry. The endless war among the eighteen Evil God candidates had reduced Mosuli’s population to less than one-tenth of its peak, making even basic societal functions difficult to sustain. Most of those remaining were the elderly, women, and children, struggling to perform even rudimentary agricultural tasks.

Without a strong leader, mass deaths seemed inevitable.

Charlot briefly considered having Yishemierlen carry him to the Aggras Sea, but he knew that if he left, the eighteen towns would likely collapse without his presence. Should someone disrupt their labyrinth transformation, his challenge would be forfeit.

Agmirlas had set quite the dilemma.

Charlot remained silent for a long time, pondering the situation, before devising a plan.

He instructed Yishemierlen, “Head to the Aggras Sea. Tell Teacher Juno to transfer the entire ghost fleet under your command and bring them to Mosuli. Have the Radiant Holy Kingdom and Emilia stay put and wait for me.”

Ishemierlen obeyed immediately, vanishing into the sky. Standing on Mosuli’s shore, Charlot rubbed his chin and muttered to himself, “What kind of trouble has Agmirlas gotten into? To stoop to such tactics against a mere mortal?”

“What level are the battles between the Evil Gods of the New Continent?”

“Who’s fighting whom? Are there alliances among the Evil Gods?”

“This... this is fascinating.”

Charlot waited two days in Mosuli, knowing it would take time for Yishemierlen to return with the ghost fleet. In the meantime, he sorted through his labyrinth guardians, managing to select seven or eight hundred capable soldiers. With this force, he launched a tentative assault to the south.

Mosuli’s society, economy, and population were utterly devastated. Years of incessant warfare had depleted all resources, including food. Survival hinged on two options: receiving external aid or expanding territory.

Charlot was certain no one in the New Continent would offer aid to Mosuli, especially for an investment with no guarantee of return.

Thus, expansion was the only viable path.

South of Mosuli lay Blackgolon, a territory five to six times larger, with a population three to four times greater. Blackgolon boasted seven medium to large cities, including something Mosuli desperately needed—a port.

Charlot’s first target was Blackgolon’s port city: Lázaro Cárdenas.

The port was in chaos.

Mosuli’s sudden disappearance, which had turned the land bridge between the northern and southern New Continent into open sea, had already caused widespread panic. No one knew which Evil God was responsible. When Mosuli reappeared just as abruptly, fear and confusion deepened.

Now, the sudden attack on Lazaro Cardenas left the port city’s residents terrified of an Evil God invasion.

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