Loser to Legend: Gathering Wives with My Unlimited Money System-Chapter 73: Power of God

Fear.

He could feel it in his bones. That cold pressure in the air. That unfamiliar feeling crawling over his skin.

"That’s cute," Piolet said, licking his lips, trying to find his voice. "So what, you awakened the power of god. Big deal. You think that’s enough to take me down?"

He tilted his head and flexed his arms.

"I’ve had this power since I was a kid. I’ve spent decades using it. Training with it. You just woke up and stumbled into it. You think that means something? You have no experience whatsoever."

He laughed again, but it was dry.

"This is the difference between a weapon and a warrior," Piolet said, pacing slightly, never breaking eye contact. "You give a gun to a monkey, it won’t shoot anything. It’ll play with it. It’ll chew on the barrel. You humans—"

He pointed at Xavier.

"—are just fancy monkeys who don’t know how to use what you’ve been handed."

Then, he snapped.

"Kill him!" he shouted to his men. "NOW!"

The mercs didn’t hesitate. They charged their weapons. Lasers, plasma rounds, thermal bolts. All aimed at one single figure.

They fired.

And the sky lit up in explosions.

It was loud. Chaotic. And violent.

But Xavier didn’t even flinch.

Nothing touched him.

The plasma dispersed in the air before reaching him. Bullets slowed mid-air and dropped like leaves. Explosions bent around him as though he wasn’t there.

Piolet’s smirk faltered.

And then—

Xavier raised his hand.

Calmly. Effortlessly.

He drew a line in the air.

Just a swipe.

And the world went silent.

The mercs vanished.

No screams. No blood. No burning bodies.

Just—gone.

Golden particles floated in the air where they once stood. They shimmered like dust under sunlight. Soft. Peaceful. Almost... beautiful.

Even Piolet couldn’t breathe for a second.

He stared at the particles.

His mouth opened.

And closed.

At that moment, Piolet realized that he wasn’t standing in front of someone who had the power of the god.

He was standing in front of God himself!

Piolet snapped his fingers, signaling his men aboard the ship.

From the clouds above, the ship’s massive guns shifted into place. Panels slid open. Cannons clicked into firing position. The humming sound of charging energy filled the skies.

But before they could fire—Xavier raised his hand.

No warning. No movement. Just a calm lift of his palm.

And then, he clenched it into a fist.

The entire ship groaned.

Metal bent. Glass shattered. Screams echoed from within. The hull began to twist unnaturally, creaking like the cries of a dying beast. The air warped as if space itself was being squeezed.

The battleship—once the size of a city block—began to compress. Crushed from all sides, as though the sky had invisible hands wrapped around it.

Piolet stood frozen.

Beasts who had survived the massacre felt their legs weaken. They watched in horror—not because Xavier was cruel—but because he had become something else.

Even Lyra, slowly blinking awake, saw the golden light reflected in her blurry vision. Her body still weak, her ribs still aching—but she saw him.

And above him—what was once a ship full of armed mercenaries had now been reduced to a sphere of metal the size of a vending machine. Blood leaked through the cracks. Screams had stopped. The final crunch echoed across the ruined land.

And then... silence.

He still had the power of god running through his veins. He knew it. But he didn’t dare lift a hand. He didn’t roar. He didn’t curse.

He ran.

He turned on his heel and bolted for the emergency dropship. The only escape off this cursed rock. It could at least take him to the outer space station outside the earth.

He jumped in, slammed the controls, and the engines lit up.

As the ship lifted into the air, Piolet laughed. Desperate, victorious laughter. "You think you’ve won?! I’ll rebuild! I’ll return! I’ll—"

But the words died in his mouth.

The dropship halted mid-air.

And then—it was dragged back. Like a fly caught in an unseen hand. It crashed into the crater, metal ripping, flames rising from the engine as smoke poured out.

The door opened with a groan, and Piolet stumbled out, coughing.

He fell to his knees in front of Xavier.

"Please..." Piolet’s voice trembled. "I’ll go. I’ll leave and never come back. Please... spare me. I was just doing my job. I didn’t want this..."

But Xavier’s gaze remained empty. Cold. And detached.

Not hatred. Not mercy.

Just judgment.

His golden eyes locked onto Piolet. And with a single raise of his hand—Piolet’s body lifted from the ground.

Xavier snapped a finger.

Piolet’s right leg twisted and tore apart, the bone cracking through the skin as he screamed.

Another snap.

The left leg bent backwards unnaturally. Mangled and useless.

Another snap.

His arms curled in on themselves like melted wire.

The crowd of beasts gathered, surrounding his broken body as Xavier dropped him between them.

They didn’t need instruction.

Fists flew. Claws tore at his skin. The pain, fear, helplessness—all poured out at once. They hit him, screamed at him, kicked and bit and spit. But even now, his divine body resisted the punishment.

Xavier watched.

And once the crowd had taken out their anger, he pulled Piolet out of the crowd with invisible force, lifting him into the sky.

With just a flick of his fingers—he slammed him into the ground. The earth cracked. Dust rose. The crater grew wider.

Piolet was still alive. Barely.

Xavier raised his hand again.

This time, it wasn’t a snap.

He grabbed at the air, and Piolet’s body spasmed. Blood poured from his eyes. His insides tore themselves apart.

His intestine came out of his mouth and his brain melted and came out of his ears and nose. HIs eyeballs popped out of his head as though they were ruble plugs.

And finally—Xavier clenched his fist one last time.

With a sickening sound, Piolet’s head was ripped from his body—his spine still attached, twitching like a dying snake.

Silence.

Not a scream. Not a breath. Only the soft crackle of fire and the golden light that shimmered in the air.

The beasts slowly, wordlessly, fell to their knees.

One by one, they bowed before Xavier.

And the next moment, the golden light that enveloped Xavier vanished and he fell to the ground.

[Power fragment’s power has been used up.]

—

-

.

The planet was called the Sun’s Moon.

It wasn’t a moon. And it didn’t orbit the sun.

It was a myth turned real. A planet wrapped in storms of gold, orbiting a dead star, glowing with eternal twilight.

At its heart stood the palace—taller than mountains, wider than oceans. Built from obsidian and light.

Inside, silence.

A prayer room lit only by the soft flame of a hovering lantern. The priestess knelt low, hands folded, head bowed, face hidden beneath thick, ritual cloth. Her white robes floated slightly, as if gravity itself bent for her.

She trembled. Breathing slow, but focused.

And then—she gasped.

Her back arched.

Her covered eyes widened.

She stood up so suddenly the lantern above her flared and dimmed. And without a word, she turned and ran. Her footsteps silent against the polished black floor.

Down the endless halls.

Past the star-lit windows.

Until she reached the throne room.

The doors opened on their own.

Inside, the ceiling stretched into darkness. The walls glowed faintly with symbols older than galaxies. In the middle of it was an altar with a rock on it, a fragment.

At the end of the hall—on a throne of stars—sat her.

The Empress.

Unmoving. Unblinking, just staring. Cloaked in living shadow, wearing a crown that shimmered with dying suns. One leg crossed over the other. One hand resting on the arm of her throne. Her eyes—sharp and unreadable.

The priestess knelt before her.

"I... I’ve received a prophecy," she said, breathless.

The Empress tilted her head slightly. "Speak."

"I have seen it. The fragment. It has awakened."

A pause.

The Empress leaned forward, just slightly. "Where?"

The priestess’s voice dropped. "Planet 4-3-9-Zeta-Terra. Low intellect humans live there, and they call the planet Earth."

The Empress closed her eyes.

"Hmm... that’s quite far away."

She stood. Slowly. Her presence filled the throne room like gravity.

"We will visit this Earth," she said, voice soft but final. "And we will take back what belongs to us."

===

END of VOLUME 1.