CHAPTER 179: CHAPTER 179: THE NEW DARK KNIGHT

The Black Knight trembled. The very air seemed to twist around Jax, who observed him from his throne with a calmness that only made the scene more terrifying.

The Dream God’s gaze pierced him like a spear. There was no visible wrath... and that frightened him even more.

As the High Priestess’s personal guard, his duty lay with Seraphina. But facing the true God he served, there was no argument, no word that could justify his error. He had committed the unforgivable sin: suggesting that she flee.

And now, with the war over and the world being rebuilt, Jax had come to collect the debts.

The Black Knight dropped to his knees, the metal of his armor clashing against the temple’s marble.

He did not beg. He only lowered his head and murmured:

"I will die for my sins... if that saves my mistress. Please, do not unleash your fury upon her."

The silence that followed was suffocating.

Until a burst of laughter echoed throughout the hall.

Jax slowly rose from the throne, his shadow completely enveloping him.

"My fury upon her?" he repeated, smiling with an almost divine cruelty. "Believe me, Knight... I already unleashed all my fury upon her moments ago."

The Black Knight didn’t fully understand the words, but something in his instinct screamed that he shouldn’t ask.

"If I wanted your head," Jax continued, stepping closer, "you wouldn’t have it already. But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be punished."

He extended his hand. Golden energy surged from his fingers, dancing in the air like liquid fire.

The Black Knight instinctively raised his head, and in that instant, the veins beneath his helmet began to bulge, twisting beneath the skin.

His eyes turned red, then black, then empty.

The divine power consumed him, stripping him of something deeper than life: his identity.

"I don’t need a rebellious subject," Jax said in an icy voice. "I need one loyal to me... forever."

The Knight tried to scream, but his voice was muffled inside the helmet. A dark mist emanated from his body and was absorbed by the floor.

Jax closed his hand.

In an instant, the Knight’s body slumped. Then it stood up again, but it was no longer the same.

His eyes were now golden, reflecting the light of the God who had rewritten him.

His thoughts, his memories, his emotions... everything had vanished.

Only an empty shell remained, faithful and obedient, incapable of ever questioning or betraying.

Jax watched him for a moment, satisfied.

"Now... you are truly mine."

The Knight knelt again, without a single word, his voice and will sealed.

And thus, the first soulless guardian of the Dream Realm was born.

The Black Knight, now just an empty, obedient shell, slowly rose, as if an invisible hand guided him.

The crimson glow in his eyes vanished, replaced by a deep, inert blue, a mirror of the nothingness Jax had sown in his mind. It was the chilling peace of the soldier without will.

Jax withdrew his hand, perceiving the connection that now bound them: not a bond of loyalty, but of essence.

The Knight no longer served out of duty, but because his very soul had been molded for it; he would do it without hesitation, even if he were now ordered to kill Seraphina.

"Arise, my servant," Jax commanded.

His voice resonated with a power that the former knight would never have been able to withstand.

The armored figure bowed with a perfect reverence; the metal barely creaked.

"My lord. I am at your service," he replied.

His tone lacked all human emotion: neither fear, nor fervor. Only the stillness of absolute obedience remained.

Jax smiled, a tense, joyless smile. He had gained a warrior, yes, but the taste of vengeance had dissolved upon contemplating the total annihilation of the spirit.

Memories are the greatest weakness... and also the greatest strength, he thought.

"Your mistress is being corrected," he continued, his gaze fixed on the Knight. "Seraphina is no longer the High Priestess to you, and your master will now only be me. You are now... something more."

"Your duty is to protect her and ensure her obedience to my will. She is valuable, and she must not be harmed by others... but she also must not rise against herself or against me."

The Knight nodded with a single movement.

"Understood, my lord. My loyalty will be the armor of your will upon her."

"Good. Go find her. You will find her where I left her."

Jax watched him walk away with a firm, silent step.

The Guardian of the Dream Will was born.

The hall was empty.

The Dream God gazed at his throne, the golden lights reflecting on his skin.

The war had ended. The debts, paid.

He had vanquished the other gods... and the betrayal within his own temple.

The temple hall filled to the brim. The council of a hundred and twenty virgins came to prostrate themselves before him; their ranks knelt in silence, faces serious, bodies dependent on the slightest gesture from their God.

Behind Jax, the eight disciples walked at his pace, massaging his shoulders and neck with expert hands, seeking his comfort. They wore delicate, expensive silk underwear that showed off their figures, leaving just a little hidden to interest Jax: each panty and bra fit their curves, highlighting their beauty and femininity. It was their way of serving; it was their way of pleasing him.

The hundred and twenty virgins, each with a different combination of lace and fabric, displayed themselves like peacocks: they sought his gaze, bowed their heads, offered shimmer and movement to capture his attention. All of them positioned themselves in different ways; those with large breasts proudly showed them off, and those with large backsides displayed them as much as they could for Jax to look at.

Jax observed them with the calmness of one who possesses everything. Now the world was at his feet, and the gods could not descend to challenge him; they would have to wait for him to ascend to them.

"Listen to me," he said, and his voice cut through the murmur like a wave. "My domains have seen death, betrayal, and reconstruction. You did not flee. You stayed. I recognize this, and I will repay it with power... but also with responsibility."

Firmer hands pressed his shoulders; the disciples smiled without words. Some of the virgins sobbed; others merely breathed deeper.

"Now that I have reached Level 99," Jax continued, "I can grant you more. Do not allow anything to stand between my name and your faith. Anything that obstructs my worship will be destroyed."

Murmurs of approval, moist eyes, held breaths. Jax raised his hand, and all fell silent.

"Prepare a hundred missionary teams," he ordered. "Each of you will depart with one of my golden statues. Each statue will carry my essence; each statue will be able to grant miracles in my name. Go to the distant towns, to the borders, to the cities that still doubt. Make everyone know who governs this continent. There must only be two types of people on this continent: my subjects and the dead."

A young woman from the council, her voice trembling but firm, stepped forward as a sign of respect.

"My Lord," she said. "How much power will you grant us? How will we know how to use the statues for miracles?"

Jax looked at her. His response was cold, precise.

"I will give you enough power to change the heart of a people or to crush an enemy. Do not waste the gifts. Do not grant mercy to those who choose to rise against me. Spread my word. Because of the war, the cities are now empty, and even before this, some suffered poverty and could not prosper."

Jax looked at them, trying to emphasize the importance of his words.

"You must choose the new rulers of each region. I need everyone to prosper, everyone to have unbridled sex to conceive as many children as possible. In less than a century, the continent’s population must be ten times greater so that my will may be strengthened."

The disciples drew closer, now massaging Jax’s forearms, and whispered promises of loyalty that floated like incense in the hall. The virgins, aligned as a single will, repeated the oath in a low voice.

The order was clear, and Jax’s intention even more so: the gospel would be delivered with force, his statues would be sources of miracles, and his name, law.

And whoever stood in that path, whoever it might be, would receive the same response as the Death God’s skull: destruction.

Jax leaned back for a moment, enjoying the effect. It wasn’t just devotion that fueled his power, but the recognition of his dominion. His disciples and the virgins would organize, forming the legions of faith he desired, and the continent would begin to tremble at his name.

"Go," he commanded, and his voice permitted no rebuttal. "Let no one forget who their god is."

The ranks moved. The girls dispersed to prepare the teams; the gold statues began to be polished, to receive his essence. And from the temple, under Jax’s motionless gaze, the plan was set in motion.

Now that everything seemed to be in order, only one thing remained to be done: all those emperors who had come to his territory and were still kneeling outside his walls.

"What should I do with them... perhaps make them puppets and turn them into my faithful dogs, even though that would go against my designs..."

Jax sighed on his throne, thinking about what to do with all those who had opposed him.