Divine Mask: I Have Numerous God Clones

[Ha! Are you finally realizing what a monstrous genius your sister is?] the system replied, its tone dripping with smugness. [Her body has already transformed into that of a two-star Volcanic Titan. Pretty impressive, don't you think?]

Zeus's eyes widened slightly, surprise flickering across his face. "Already? No wonder…"

[Oh, I'm not done yet,] the system interrupted, its voice laced with mock arrogance. [You do remember that Titans have the strongest physiques in existence, right? Even a three-star attack is nothing more than a tickle to her now. I bet those guys never saw that coming.]

Zeus could feel the system's smirk through its voice, and he couldn't help but feel a mix of admiration and unease. "And during the battle…?"

[Oh, you're going to love this,] the system continued, practically oozing with satisfaction. [From the divine mask within her, I sensed she's just broken through to three-star cultivation.]

Zeus's smirk widened, but there was a flicker of concern in his eyes. Pride swelled within him—his sister's growth was nothing short of extraordinary—but so was the realization that her potential was becoming something to be feared.

"She really is a genius," Zeus muttered, more to himself than to the system. "Advancing on her own… even if the divine mask was stabilizing her body, she's done most of the work herself."

[Oh, don't downplay my contribution,] the system shot back, mockingly offended. [Sure, she's talented, but without that divine mask keeping her body in check, she'd be a mess right now. But I'll give her this—now that she's stabilized, her cultivation speed is off the charts.]

Zeus's expression hardened, his resolve solidifying. "It seems I need to grow stronger even faster if I want to keep up with her."

[Finally catching on, huh?] the system teased, its tone dripping with playful arrogance. [Did you just realize how amazing your sister is? Don't get left in the dust, little brother!]

Zeus chuckled, acknowledging the system's taunt. "Yeah, I get it. Time to step up my game."

[Good boy,] the system quipped shamelessly. [Now let's see if you can keep up with that monster of a sister you've got.]

Zeus smirked again, this time with a mix of determination and amusement. "Challenge accepted."

---

Lucy's eyes swept across the audience, her gaze icy and mocking. "Is there no one here brave enough to challenge me?" she called out, her voice laced with disdain.

Her tone turned sharper as she continued, "All of you who enjoy bullying juniors—I dare you. Come down here and fight me."

The crowd remained deathly silent, fear rippling through them like a wave. They had just witnessed Lucy annihilate five opponents with terrifying ease, leaving nothing but ashes in her wake. The thought of facing her now seemed suicidal.

Lucy's smirk grew colder, more taunting. "As expected," she sneered, "you're all cowards."

Her words cut through the arena like a knife, and the crowd visibly bristled, their anger simmering beneath the surface. Yet, not a single one of them dared to speak up. The memory of her previous victims, now nothing but dust, kept their defiance in check.

Then, a figure with striking green hair stepped forward, his movement commanding instant attention. His eyes were locked on Lucy, a dangerous glint in them.

The crowd's whispers grew louder, filled with a mix of awe and fear. "Zilbor," they murmured, his name passing through their lips like a warning. He was the tenth-ranked outer disciple, infamous for his brutal strength and known for occasionally killing new disciples who crossed him.

"So, there's a junior here with the guts to stand up to us," Zilbor said, his voice carrying a cold, calculated edge. His expression was unreadable, a blend of curiosity and menace.

Lucy caught the murmurs of the crowd, sensing the weight of Zilbor's reputation. She knew he was dangerous, but she refused to be intimidated. Her eyes locked onto his, unflinching.

"Brave? Of course," she shot back, her voice sharp and laced with sarcasm. "It's not hard when everyone around me is so weak." She paused, letting her gaze pierce through him. "That includes you."

Zilbor's expression darkened, his eyes narrowing as a frown creased his brow. "You've got a sharp tongue," he said slowly, his voice lowering to a menacing growl. "But don't fool yourself into thinking I'm like those five losers. They were the bottom of the top 100. I'm different."

Lucy's lips curled into a defiant smirk, her eyes gleaming with the thrill of the challenge. "Then come down here," she challenged, her voice steady and mocking. "If you dare."

Zilbor's lips twisted into a cold smile, a sinister glint in his eyes. "Oh, I'll come down," he replied, his tone dark with anticipation. "But I want to add one more condition."

"Go ahead," Lucy responded, her voice unwavering, not a trace of fear in her stance.

"This match will still be a death match," Zilbor began, his voice ringing out across the arena, commanding the attention of everyone present. "But if I win, you don't need to die. You'll just become my slave—forever."

A collective gasp rippled through the audience, shock and disbelief filling the air as they processed the weight of his words. The stakes had suddenly escalated, the tension in the arena thickening.

Lucy's eyes narrowed, her gaze turning icy as she considered his proposal. But her resolve didn't waver. "Fine," she agreed, her voice as cold and sharp as steel. "If you can win."

Zilbor grinned, clearly relishing her response. "I like your bravery," he said, his tone almost appreciative, though still laced with arrogance.

With a confident stride, he stepped down into the arena, every movement exuding self-assurance. "Let's start," he declared, his eyes locked on Lucy, ready for the fight to begin.