It is a well-known fact that the world of No Game No Life has Three Great Chaotic Races.
The apostles of the God of War—the Flügel.
The dependents of the God of Smithing—the Dwarves.
The subjects of the God of Forests—the Elves.
These three races could be called warmongers among warmongers; more than half of the continent's wars could be blamed on them.
And among these three, the Flügel were by far the most frenzied.
Fond of wearing sleeveless tops, panties with ribbons and pendants, and asymmetrical socks, they would slaughter anything that stood in their way with the utmost beauty.
It was safe to say that every Flügel was a lunatic.
But—
Jibril, who was considered a lunatic even among the Flügel, felt that she herself was about to go insane.
Truly, on the verge of madness.
She stood at the ruins—or rather, the giant crater—where the prison that once held the Flügel had been.
Of the once towering cage, only rubble remained. The scorching air hissed as it rose to meet the rain, and crimson flames continuously calcined everything in their path, turning the surroundings into a sea of fire.
Debris that had been blasted into the sky now fell unopposed, striking the ground with sharp, crisp sounds.
The crimson flames covered every corner, leaving the entire ruin to smolder, a thick pall of smoke filling the air.
"Haaaa—ROAR—!!!"
The Wolf King, a giant wolf incarnate, stomped upon the blackened earth, letting out a sound that was half-laughter, half-roar.
With every step forward, the ground crumbled beneath its paws.
It was in a delightful mood. The victory of this round belonged to it.
It had used its own life as a price to hold back the other God-Slayers, then unleashed the Hellfire of the Condemner, potent enough to incinerate all creation, to annihilate them along with itself.
Now, he was the first to resurrect, thanks to his abundance of revival Authorities. The seventeenth battle had ended in his victory.
"How delightful."
The Wolf King, itself covered in wounds, laughed in its bestial form, a savage and terrifying sound.
"A pity. The victory of the next battle will most likely not be mine."
His current state was too poor. It wouldn't be long before the other God-Slayers he had just killed would revive.
Facing fully restored enemies, he had little room to fight back.
"But it doesn't matter. The victory of the battle after that will surely be mine."
Like a demon trapped in the realm of Asuras, the Wolf King, who had already died many times only to be repeatedly resurrected, cackled with glee.
They're insane.
Jibril, already feeling the limits of her strength, gasped heavily for breath.
During the battle, Azriel had left first to protect the other Flügel. Jibril had been tasked with staying behind to hold back these psychopaths, to prevent their battle from reaching her kin.
She was nearly at her limit.
Lacking any form of immortality, Jibril could only rely on constant use of Heaven's Shift to evade their attacks. She stared into the distance where the figures of her enemies were beginning to solidify once more, her expression more exhausted than ever before.
Why did a species that reveled so completely in mutual slaughter even exist in this world?
Is this... the source of their strength?
The Flügel, who had once sought to understand the source of that man's power, now stared ahead. Before her bewildered eyes, the shattered fragments of those spiritual bodies began to coalesce once again.
When would this battle ever end?
---o---
Analyzing a Divine Core... that was an outrageous idea.
After all, the so-called Divine Core was the very source of a God-Spirit's power, a manifestation of cosmic law, the truth of the universe itself.
For any normal being, analyzing a Divine Core was something that could only be accomplished in dreams.
But—
A Herrscher, the ultimate embodiment of physical laws. If one were forced to categorize such a being within the framework of this world, which race would they belong to?
The answer was the God-Spirit Race.
A Herrscher who dominates physical laws, leveraging the rules of physics to bring calamity upon the world, and a God-Spirit who dominates a certain concept, manifesting divine might through that concept—if not of the same species, they could at least be considered distant relatives.
Otherwise, Jibril and Azriel wouldn't have perceived that man as an "unknown god."
Therefore, analyzing a Divine Core using the same methods one would use to analyze a Herrscher Core was, in fact, feasible.
The difficulty, however, would be quite high.
At the very least, if Li Zihan were to attempt the analysis alone and then try to reproduce that Divine Core with his Herrscher of Reason authority, it would be an arduous task. The time required would likely be measured in millennia.
So, it was time to find some help.
Possessing an enhanced version of the Herrscher of Reason's authority, the young man's eyes shimmered with a dreamlike iridescence.
He was searching for someone.
Or rather, he was searching for the Ex-Machina.
Rank Ten—Ex-Machina.
They were mindless machines created by the God of Doubt, Horou (purely because Horou was bored and wanted someone to talk to). Lifeforms constructed from all sorts of black-box technology. The original four Ex-Machina had diversified and multiplied, now totaling 5,378,193,361 units.
The God of Doubt questioned all abstract concepts in the world, including his own "existence." As his dependents, the Ex-Machina rigorously followed a process of observation, reporting, analysis, and verification to understand the world.
Their analytical ability was the most terrifying thing about them.
Every 437 units formed a "Cluster" responsible for cloud computing and collective data analysis.
Due to their incredibly high analytical efficiency, the Ex-Machina could almost instantly replicate the techniques or skills of other races, or discern weaknesses to formulate tactics. They shared vision and intelligence. Aside from being unable to replicate divine miracles, this race was perfect in both combat power and strategy.
They were the perfect analytical support.
If he could secure their assistance, the difficulty of analyzing the God of War's Divine Core would be reduced to an absolute minimum.
Moreover, with their help, the workload required to re-engineer the world into a battlefield that amplified the power of his own Divine Core would drop dramatically.
Truly, a perfect support unit.
The young man smiled as he easily discovered the great army of Ex-Machina, advancing in formation, analyzing the world according to the will of their now-slumbering master.
It would also be a wonderful thing if the Void Archives, which had once simulated the Star of Eden's power to attract all the Honkai Energy on the planet when it should have only been able to shatter a continent, could be used to amplify the superweapons of other races by a hundred, or even a thousand times.
The Ex-Machina are lifeforms that are both mechanical and biological, are they not?
In that case, I'll use Ling's power.
The Power of Erosion rose up around the young man. It spread silently through a suddenly opened spatial gate, traveling to a distant location before dissipating.
But, speaking of which, after fighting for an entire day and night, were those guys still at it?
After observing the Ex-Machina for a long while, Li Zihan suddenly noticed something else.
Within his field of vision, the God-Slayers who had been devoured by his Divine Sword of Salvation and transformed into undying beasts of war were still slaughtering each other.
My brothers and sisters should really have a heart-to-heart, shouldn't they?
And so, he decided to go and see for himself.
With that thought, the young man's form instantly dissolved into nothingness.