I Reborn as a God Within a Statue, And You Ask Me to Enslave All Gods?-Chapter 161 --The Terrifying Young Man

Whoosh—whoosh...

As Owen’s thoughts churned with intensity, the black stone pillar before him began to writhe, like a pool of dark ink spreading across the void. Slowly, a figure emerged, stepping out from the inky depths.

For a moment, Owen could hear the faintest sound of breathing. At the same time, the space around them began to tremble and collapse, as if under the weight of an unimaginable force. The very air thickened, becoming viscous, difficult to move through—as if the presence of this being alone was enough to cause the void to implode.

Just the sight of this figure made Owen’s skin crawl with goosebumps. The oppressive aura radiating from the blurry silhouette stirred the divine blood within him, igniting it, setting it ablaze with primal heat. His heart pounded, and a deep instinct within told him—

He had just encountered an opponent he would remember for the rest of his life.

The sheer arrogance radiating from this youth seeped into one’s bones. It was not the arrogance of mortals, but something far greater—an overwhelming pride that seemed to stem from his very soul. That pride alone, like a tidal wave of supremacy, was enough to crush the defenses of the mind and shatter one’s resolve. It made one want to kneel, to submit to a supreme existence that should not be challenged.

"So this is what a top-ten-ranked human in the combat rankings at around thirteen years old looks like?" Owen murmured, his expression solemn. "No wonder they call them the pinnacle of human battle power. Truly... extraordinary."

The slender frame of the youth appeared fragile, even delicate. Yet Owen could sense that it harbored the strength of an entire world. Elemental energy surged within the boy’s body—pure, refined to perfection. His soul force echoed with the magnitude of the stars, and his physical vitality burned with the fury of a world-scorching blaze.

No matter which angle one observed him from, this youth seemed... flawless.

Even the most exquisite creations of the heavens would pale in comparison to him.

As the thirteen-year-old fully stepped out from the black pillar, the void around them—already buckling—began to fold like wrinkled paper. Invisible pressure pulled at the space itself, and the closer one got to the youth, the more apparent the distortion became. It was as if the world itself rejected his presence, unable to withstand the power he carried.

At only thirteen, this young figure already possessed a physical constitution capable of rivaling a peak tier-7 Awakener.

And yet, his actual level... was only at the entry tier-7 stage.

That meant—his combat capability likely approached tier-8.

Such a leap—spanning across an entire rank tier—was unheard of. It was a terrifying display of power, and across the vast annals of history, examples of such a phenomenon were nearly nonexistent.

Even a one-stage gap between tier-7 and tier-8 was considered a massive, insurmountable gulf.

And this youth had bridged the entirety of it.

Yet, the more powerful this youth revealed himself to be, the more excitement welled up in Owen’s chest.

It had been far too long since he’d fought someone who truly challenged him.

For the longest time, he had been crushing gods of similar tier with ease.

This boy—this combatant ranked among the top ten of all humans—despite Owen already having reached the limits of tier-2 as an Ancient God, left him unable to be the least bit careless.

The youth’s own level wasn’t weak to begin with, but his combat capacity far outstripped it.

There was no doubt—when he exploded with his full strength, the result would be monstrous.

Owen raised his hand.

A sea of endless fire burst forth, encircling him with roaring crimson waves. The heat distorted the void, and flaming pressure surged upward like a tide of judgment.

Throughout the long, winding history of mankind, there had been countless powerful Awakeners.

These legends had carved their names into history, gleaming like stars across the heavens.

But in that vast galaxy of warriors, who truly stood at the peak?

No one could say for certain.

History surged forward relentlessly. Each "strongest" was eventually surpassed by someone even greater.

Even looking back from the present, ranking those radiant stars of humanity was nearly impossible.

In the ancient age—when Celestial Gods lifted humanity to the status of plane dominators—a new generation of deities rose up. They had wiped out entire aberration races and slain spellbeast kings.

They were lords of reality itself.

During their time, humans were supreme.

But beyond that age existed even older epochs—eras almost entirely unknown. freewёbn૦νeɭ.com

And in those distant, forgotten times, humans rose and fell like ocean tides, led forward by countless pioneers.

As for this blurry young figure standing before Owen...

He had no way of knowing from which era the boy hailed.

But his strength—Owen was sure—was second only to the mastermind behind the scenes.

As the fire sea wrapped around Owen, the youth across from him tilted his head slightly, watching with interest.

Then Owen made the first move.

With a sharp swing of his arm, a rain of flame descended from above.

Meteor-like fireballs blazed through the sky, dragging long, fiery tails behind them. They fell thick and fast, blanketing the battlefield.

The scorching heat surged forward in a wave. Even Owen could feel the strain on his own blood under the intense temperature—it was as though his very essence threatened to boil.

Then, in that moment—

The ink-black youth responded.

An explosion of blood essence erupted from his slender frame, surging skyward like a volcanic geyser.

In the blink of an eye, it condensed into a massive dragon-shaped phantom.

The monstrous dragon, forged of blood and darkness, spread its colossal wings—Heaven’s Veil obscuring the light of the world.

It beat its wings once.

The resulting gusts howled like ten thousand storms, sending violent crosswinds ripping through the already-torn battlefield.

Owen’s pupils contracted slightly.

This level of control over one’s physical energy and blood essence... was nearly divine.

More meteors continued to fall.

They clashed with the dragon’s form.

BOOM!!!

An earth-shattering roar detonated between them, spreading like a shockwave. The resulting ripples of destruction shattered the void even further, like a broken mirror reduced to fragments.

But this deadlock didn’t last long.

The endless fiery meteors soon tore through the dark dragon, scattering it.

Just as the flames sought to crash into the youth again—

The ink-colored blood that had dispersed suddenly shifted.

From the broken fragments of the void, a sound like rushing waves filled the air.

And then—

The black blood fused with surging water elements in the space around them.

A new form took shape.

A black ice dragon emerged—lifelike and majestic.

Unlike the previous form, this one shimmered with solidity, infused with immense elemental energy. It felt like a creature born from myth, now descending upon this battlefield.

Its mouth opened wide—dark, cavernous, endless.

From within, frigid ice breath burst forth.

CRACKLE—

The sound of glaciers in motion roared across the sky.

Everything in the path of that freezing breath was instantly frozen. A thick coat of hoarfrost blanketed the world, transforming the land into an arctic wasteland.

BANG!

A new wave of tremors shattered the void again. Ripples of energy, visible to the naked eye, surged outward.

The flames and ice clashed in midair—both forces vying for dominance.

The heat melted the ice, and the ice dimmed the flames.

Together, they transformed the air above into something akin to a volcanic vent beneath the sea—where magma and ice collided, birthing pillars of steam and smoke.

Those columns of mist rose skyward, forming swirling, overlapping clouds of vapor high above.

Owen narrowed his eyes.

"No wonder he ranks among the top ten of all human combatants," he muttered, heart pounding with awe. "His power spans across tiers. Even a freshly ascended tier-8 Awakener might not survive an exchange with him."

"And he’s only thirteen..."

"When others were still playing games and chasing butterflies... this one was already forging himself into steel."

He let out a breath.

"Remarkable."

But the battle was not over.

The boy moved again—this time charging directly at Owen.

He was a blur of speed, leaving behind countless afterimages. The very air tore apart in his wake with explosive bursts, and within moments, a fist mark filled Owen’s vision.

It expanded—like a black mountain falling from the heavens.

A punch imbued with the force to crush all things.

It came hurtling down like a thousand-meter tall peak—immovable, unstoppable.

For a moment, Owen’s breath hitched.

It was as if the mountain itself had locked onto him.

He couldn’t dodge.

Couldn’t run.

Then he understood.

This mountain wasn’t real.

It was soul pressure—pure, unfiltered will.

The youth had unleashed a terrifying trinity—body, element, soul—in perfect harmony.

Compared to the dragon phantoms earlier, this punch was far more devastating.

This... this was his true strength.

Everything before had been a mere probe.

Owen inhaled sharply.

Brilliant divine light flared from his body.

It wrapped around him like a multicolored celestial robe—seven hues of divine brilliance swirling around his form. He looked like a sun made flesh—impossible to gaze upon, radiating the majesty of gods.

And then—

He struck back.

One punch.

BOOM—

The sky shattered.