Lassal had devoted everything—his faith, his time, his divine resources—to surpassing the previous first-place winner.
Those five tier-4 devotees under his command were not the result of luck. They were the product of painstaking cultivation, each one handpicked and nurtured with meticulous care. In his mind, they were the pinnacle of what a deity could achieve.
He had believed that he had ascended to a realm beyond comparison. After all, it was already a miracle for other gods to produce even one or two tier-4 devotees—how could they possibly rival his five?
But the higher the hope, the greater the despair.
And in this moment, his dream was shattered—obliterated like a fragile illusion crushed beneath the weight of cruel truth.
It wasn't just disappointment—it was a freefall into hopelessness.
"No... Impossible!"
"Absolutely impossible!"
Lassal's eyes turned bloodshot, madness rising like a tide. He couldn't accept it. He refused to.
