I Reborn as a God Within a Statue, And You Ask Me to Enslave All Gods?-Chapter 171 --The Shock Brought by the Devotees

Previously, Lassal had taken second place in the great divine tournament.

But that gap between first and second? It had been utterly humiliating.

He hadn’t merely been outpaced—he had been left in the dust.

The difference in points had struck him like a thunderclap, a brutal blow to his pride. After witnessing such a chasm, even the title of "Second Place" had lost its luster.

Thankfully, Lassal had pulled himself together quickly.

He began to work relentlessly—tirelessly striving for greatness.

Twenty-three out of twenty-four hours each day were spent handling matters within his divine territory: refining low-tier divine artifacts, overseeing development, mentoring his devotees, and personally ensuring the growth of their strength.

He was so committed that he even reduced his visits to his favorite female devotees—those he’d once lavished with attention.

He told himself: If I can’t reach first place even with this level of discipline and determination, then no one else deserves that title either!

With that belief burning in his chest, Lassal relaxed slightly, his previous tension fading.

He let out a cold snort and allowed the World Tree’s luminous branches to absorb him. A moment later, his figure landed gently upon one of its massive, veined leaves.

Meanwhile, Owen was also pulled away by a strange gravitational force and found himself in a uniquely lush environment.

Verdant mountains sprawled outward endlessly, like the intricate veins of a leaf. Life energy emanated from every surface, surging through the air in pure waves.

At the highest point of the leafy terrain stood five radiant divine thrones—sacred seats carved from divine crystal, each pulsing with power.

Owen was now seated upon one of them.

Before him, only mist and chaos remained—his divine sight couldn’t pierce through it. Not even with his God-Eye technique could he see what lay ahead.

Soon after his arrival, the remaining four divine thrones lit up, as silhouettes began to manifest atop them.

Each god bore a shining god mark on their forehead, exuding a pressure that marked them as 2-Star Ancient Gods—formidable powerhouses, without exception.

"Most of the gods gathered here today are only 1-Star Ancient Gods," Owen thought. "To have reached 2-Star, they must be among the best of the best—likely the apex deities of their respective planes."

Given the matchmaking system used for these battles, Owen surmised that these four were no ordinary gods.

The Divine War system didn’t just rely on a god’s divine point total. The power of their devotees, their Vassal Gods, and even their Infernal Envoys all played vital roles in determining combat performance.

That meant these four were likely ranked within the top thirty in the previous competition—even if not the absolute top four.

But for Owen, it didn’t matter.

Whether they were top-tier or not made little difference.

With his current strength, he could crush all opposition.

Even if his team had consisted of four average 1-Star gods, no one could prevent him from reaching the top.

Suddenly, a voice echoed across the divine thrones.

"Greetings, everyone. My name is Lassal. You may not know me, but I was the second-place winner in the last Divine Order Tournament!"

Lassal’s gaze swept across the other four gods. His tone brimmed with pride and confidence.

"Furthermore, I’ve participated in three full Divine Wars. I understand the rules and strategies inside and out!"

"With that experience, I propose that I lead our team during this five-man battle. I trust no one has any objections?"

His words rang with such certainty that they bordered on arrogance.

Lassal believed that among the other gods, one of them might be the previous champion. But so what?

That was last time.

Since then, he had trained furiously, advanced rapidly, and he believed—no, knew—that he now stood above the rest. Even that so-called champion had surely been left behind.

Naturally, it only made sense that he should be the commander this time around.

But a soft scoff broke the silence.

"Second place? So what?"

A female god with flowing golden hair, shimmering like ripened wheat fields, brushed a few strands aside and spoke indifferently.

"In that tournament, you only scored a few more points than I did. Don’t act like you’re some kind of legend. I also participated in three Divine Wars. Whatever you’ve learned, I’ve learned as well."

Her name was Devorah—ranked fifth in the previous tournament.

She didn’t care for Lassal’s overbearing attitude and had no intention of humoring him.

"That said," she continued, "I have no desire to command this team either. Since we were matched together, we’re likely of similar caliber. It doesn’t really matter who leads. In fact, I propose we don’t even bother with a designated leader. We can simply discuss and adapt to each situation."

Her words were barely finished before another god—the brawny and broad-chested Harrington, whose muscular torso was covered in divine hair—spoke up in agreement.

"I think the lady has a point," Harrington said loudly. "Your point difference with the rest of us isn’t much. Your high ranking could just be luck."

"You expect us to follow your orders? That’s wishful thinking."

He thumped his chest.

"If any issue arises, we’ll resolve it through discussion. We don’t need a leader barking orders."

These gods weren’t fools.

They were among the highest-ranking gods in the competition. None of them were willing to bend their knee to another.

More importantly, if their devotees saw them obediently obeying another deity, it would deal a massive blow to their prestige and faith.

No one wanted that.

The last goddess, Jennie, nodded as well.

"I agree. Let’s just decide things together," she said gently. "Whether it’s the Devotee Battle or the Vassal God Battle, we can trust our followers to handle things themselves."

Owen finally spoke, his voice calm and composed. "Letting them act independently sounds good."

He was perfectly content with this arrangement.

His top-tier devotees, Vassal Gods, and even Infernal Envoys had long reached the level of autonomous commanders. They didn’t need micromanagement.

Seeing all four gods dismiss his proposal and show zero respect for his self-proclaimed authority, Lassal’s expression darkened.

But there was nothing he could do.

Even if he thought his personal strength surpassed each of them, he couldn’t deny that four against one left him with no choice.

He swallowed his frustration and silently vowed:

This time, I will take first place. Then these arrogant fools will learn to show respect.

His gaze flitted between Owen, Devorah, Harrington, and Jennie.

Which of them had taken first place last time? freёnovelkiss.com

Or... could it be that the champion wasn’t even on this team?

But even as the thought crossed his mind, he shook his head and dismissed it.

No. It doesn’t matter.

This time—the one who takes first place will be me!

His fists clenched tightly, filled with confidence.

Moments later, a prompt appeared before all five gods.

[Please select the devotees you wish to participate in the upcoming Devotee Battle.]

Owen nodded as he saw the system’s message.

"Excellent," he thought. "This selective participation can help reduce unnecessary casualties."

In chaotic large-scale battles like this, sending low-tier devotees was nothing short of suicide.

Owen immediately filtered his roster—selecting only tier-2 Awakeners and above.

Those still in tier-1 or low-tier tier-2 were temporarily excluded.

After all, death in these Divine Wars was permanent.

Soon, a list of eligible devotees appeared before Owen:

Tier-5 Devotees: 5Tier-4 Peak Devotees: 6Tier-4 Advanced Devotees: 14Tier-4 Mid Devotees: 35Tier-4 Beginner Devotees: 82Tier-3 Devotees: 260

Such an astonishingly high-tier roster stunned even Owen slightly.

These devotees had advanced so rapidly thanks largely to the Primal Faith flowing from the Caesar Empire.

Owen’s territory was vast. Every day, he absorbed and converted immense quantities of Primal Faith—benefiting all who followed him.

It was as if his people had divine guidance every step of the way.

He’d even reserved a portion of Primal Faith to upgrade Annasi Town into a full-fledged divine city.

Once transformed, the value and power of such a faith-rich city would far surpass that of any normal district.

With his decisions finalized, shadows began appearing beneath the divine thrones.

One by one, the selected devotees materialized and assembled at their respective god’s feet—tiny as ants compared to the vast size of their deities.

Each group entered a state of high alert, releasing their energy in defensive formations.

But soon, a startling disparity became visible.

Among all the areas, one section’s aura stood out like a crane among chickens.

The pressure from these devotees completely overwhelmed the other four groups.

On the divine thrones, Devorah, Harrington, Jennie, and even Lassal were dumbstruck.

They stared, eyes wide and jaws slack, at the sheer power radiating from Owen’s devotees.

"This... Tier-5 Awakeners?!"

"Over a hundred Tier-4 Awakeners?!"

"How... how is this possible?!"

Lassal’s eyes bulged in disbelief, his mind struggling to process what he was seeing.

It defied reason.

He had poured everything into cultivating his own devotees—thinking he’d impress the others and assert dominance.

But compared to this army of elites?

His efforts were pitiful.

Pathetic.

Trash.

Even a single Tier-5 Awakened devotee was something he had yet to achieve—despite months of investment, guidance, and sacrifice.

And as for Tier-4s?

He only had five.

Each one had cost him dearly in resources and effort.

Yet here... they were being displayed by the dozens.

And Tier-5s?

Five.

Just in Owen’s group alone.

This wasn’t just a difference in power—it was a chasm.

Lassal’s confidence shattered like glass.

This wasn’t a team.

It was a massacre waiting to happen.