Divine Mask: I Have Numerous God Clones

Lucas strolled deeper into the Malachor Clan vault, his eyes flickering over the countless rows of rare materials, treasures, and artifacts stacked high on the shelves. Despite the sheer volume of wealth and resources, his expression remained indifferent, almost bored.

The dim lighting cast long shadows across the floor, but Lucas paid them no mind, focused on his conversation with the system.

"System, are there any valuable things in here?" he asked casually, his voice calm and measured as he scanned the inventory. He wasn't expecting much, but it was worth asking.

The system let out a scoffing chuckle, dripping with arrogance. [Valuable? In this collection? Please, Lucas. These items are barely worth a second glance.]

The system's voice was laced with its usual smugness. [Everything here is beneath you. Do you see anything remotely close to a nine-star? No? Exactly. It's all garbage.]

Lucas raised an eyebrow but nodded, unsurprised by the system's response. "I thought as much. Still, I wanted to be sure." His tone remained even, though the corners of his lips twitched upward in mild amusement.

The system, however, wasn't finished mocking the Malachor Clan's prized possessions. [Honestly, you'd think a clan of their stature would at least stock up on something decent. But no, they're hoarding all this mediocrity like it's worth something. If they knew who you really were, they'd be embarrassed.] It chuckled again, clearly enjoying its own condescending tone.

"I see," Lucas replied, completely unphased by the system's typical arrogance. His eyes drifted across the shelves one last time before he shrugged. "Well then, if there's nothing of value, let's move forward with our plan."

The system's voice grew darker, laced with anticipation. [Hehe, now this is the part that's worth your time. Let's begin.] Its dark chuckle echoed in Lucas's mind, filled with shameless glee.

Lucas ventured deeper into the vault until he reached a secluded area where a collection of corpses lay in neat rows, waiting to be repurposed for puppet creations.

His eyes flicked over the bodies, and he began carefully selecting the weakest, most common-looking corpses. He didn't need anything extraordinary—just enough to remain inconspicuous.

"These will do," he muttered to himself, bending down to inspect a corpse with a broken arm and hollow eyes. His expression was one of pure calculation, no hint of disgust or hesitation.

The system's mocking voice chimed in, clearly enjoying the situation. [Weak and pathetic, aren't they? You could at least pick something with a bit more dignity. But I suppose you know what you're doing. Common trash like this won't raise any alarms,] it taunted.

"Exactly," Lucas replied, unfazed by the system's constant jabs. His hands moved swiftly, spreading the corpses out across various points in the vault. Each one was placed with precise intent, ensuring they wouldn't arouse suspicion. His face remained focused, his mind calculating each step.

Once the task was complete, he stood back, surveying the carefully positioned bodies. "Now that I've set them up, let's move on to the next phase."

The system let out a smug chuckle. [You're lucky I've already prepared everything. Wouldn't want to keep you waiting, after all. My genius knows no bounds,] it mocked, relishing its role.

Lucas reached into his inventory, pulling out several blank Divine Masks, their surfaces smooth and featureless.

These masks, void of any immediate power, were soon to become something far more sinister. With a calm and collected expression, Lucas began placing the Divine Masks on each of the corpses he had laid out, his movements precise and deliberate.

At first, nothing happened. The Divine Masks simply disappeared into the flesh of the corpses, sinking beneath the skin without a trace, as though they had never existed. A moment of stillness followed.

A smirk crept across Lucas's face. He folded his arms, watching the seemingly lifeless bodies with a knowing glint in his eyes. "Hehe, they're going to be in for quite the surprise later."

The system laughed, thoroughly enjoying itself. [Oh, absolutely. You can already imagine their faces when these puppets spring to life. Once they're triggered, the real fun will begin. Of course, I always deliver,] it said, with an air of superiority.

Lucas nodded, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "They won't know what hit them."

[And let's not forget who made this brilliance possible,] the system added, its tone dripping with smugness. [I could have made it flashier, but subtlety has its own charm, doesn't it?]

"Subtlety works best for this part of the plan," Lucas replied, turning his back to the corpses and walking toward the exit, still wearing Thalnor's mask. His lips twitched into a smile as he imagined what would happen next. "Now, let's get ready for the final act."

As Lucas exited the vault, his stride was relaxed, almost leisurely. He approached the vault keeper, who stood by with his usual look of boredom, arms crossed, glancing up curiously as Lucas drew near.

"Have you written down what you need?" the vault keeper asked in a flat, professional tone, though there was a hint of curiosity in his eyes. Clearly, even he wasn't used to seeing Thalnor leave the vault looking so... confident.

Thalnor—Lucas in disguise—nodded calmly and handed over the list with a practiced air of authority. "Yes, I've listed everything. For the corpses, I'll need the strongest you can offer. And for the souls, make sure they're the fiercest, most evil ones you can find." His voice was smooth, measured, as if this were routine for him.

The vault keeper raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised by the specific request, but didn't question it aloud. He studied Thalnor for a moment, as though trying to find some flaw or crack in his calm demeanor. After a moment, he gave a curt nod. "Very well, Elder. I'll arrange it."

"Make sure you do," Lucas added, a touch of coldness in his voice, letting the implication hang in the air.

The vault keeper swallowed but managed to maintain his composure. "Of course," he replied, then motioned to the guards. "Escort the Elder back to his lab."

As the guards moved to accompany him, Lucas allowed himself a brief smirk, concealed under the Thalnor mask. The vault keeper may have been professional, but even he was unaware of what had truly been set in motion inside that vault.

With the plan in place, Lucas walked away, his mind already racing with what was to come. The wheels had been set in motion, and soon, the Malachor Clan would be in for a surprise far beyond their understanding.

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