Divine Mask: I Have Numerous God Clones

Vesperin\'s sharp eyes flicked toward Thalnor, his lips curling slightly into a half-scowl, half-smile. His tone was clipped as he spoke, an attempt to maintain control over his brewing frustration. "Elder Thalnor, I\'ve come here to see my corpse puppet upgraded, as we discussed."

Thalnor—his calm facade unshaken by Vesperin\'s obvious irritation—offered a practiced, placid smile. The mask was perfect, down to every detail. He gave a small nod, his voice smooth and unaffected, almost as though the delay had been intentional just to rile the young master up. "I\'ve heard. Tell me, what sort of upgrade are you looking for this time?"

Vesperin\'s scowl deepened for a moment, but he quickly masked it with a dismissive wave of his hand, leaning back slightly in his chair as though the decision was beneath him. "Up to you, Elder. Just make it stronger. That\'s all I care about."

There was a slight edge to his voice, a demanding undertone that conveyed his belief that his desires were not merely requests, but commands. Vesperin\'s gaze flickered toward Thalnor\'s eyes, trying to gauge the elder\'s reaction, as if testing his boundaries.

Thalnor\'s smile never wavered, but there was a glint in his eyes—something unreadable, something almost predatory. "Stronger, you say?" he repeated, his tone smooth, as though weighing the request carefully. "Of course, young master. But tell me, are you ready for something far beyond the typical upgrade?"

Vesperin\'s eyebrow arched slightly at that, a flicker of interest sparking despite his usual arrogance. His suspicion and curiosity played out in the tightening of his jaw and the narrowing of his sharp eyes. "What exactly do you mean by that, Elder?"

Thalnor leaned in just a touch, his voice dropping to a whisper, as if sharing a dangerous secret. "I\'ve been working on something new. An invention, if you will, that will make your current corpse puppet look like a mere toy in comparison. This is not just an upgrade, young master—it\'s an evolution."

Vesperin\'s gaze darkened with both intrigue and a trace of caution. He leaned forward, clearly interested but unwilling to let his guard down too easily. "A new invention, you say?" His voice was laced with skepticism, but there was an undeniable eagerness lurking beneath. "You\'ve piqued my interest, Elder Thalnor. What is it you\'re offering?"

Thalnor\'s smile widened by the faintest fraction, a sure sign that he knew he had Vesperin right where he wanted him. "I call it the Nether Puppet," he said, each word deliberately measured, as though the very name was a powerful secret. "A creation unlike anything the Malachor Clan has ever seen. You will not find its equal, nor will anyone who dares to challenge you."

Vesperin\'s eyes narrowed further, though his interest was clear. "A bold claim, Elder," he murmured, his voice dropping with a mix of doubt and desire. "But show me, and I\'ll decide if it lives up to your words."

Thalnor chuckled softly under his breath, pleased with Vesperin\'s response. He extended his hand with a deliberate slowness, as if summoning something from the very shadows around them. The air in the room shifted, growing colder as a dark aura began to swirl and fill the space.

In a sudden, fluid motion, a figure materialized before them. A corpse puppet, but unlike any Vesperin had ever seen before. Its skin was a deep, dark red, the color of dried blood, and it pulsed faintly with an eerie, otherworldly energy. The aura around it was thick and suffocating, the very essence of death.

Vesperin\'s eyes widened as he studied the puppet, his earlier arrogance momentarily overshadowed by pure fascination. He stood up from his chair, drawn toward the puppet as though it was calling to him. "What... is this?" he whispered, his voice betraying awe.

Thalnor\'s smile widened further, though his expression remained calm and collected. "Young Master Vesperin, allow me to introduce the Nether Puppet—a six-star puppet, much like my past corpse puppet. But unlike my old puppet, this one is far superior in both strength and resilience."

To demonstrate his point, Thalnor reached into his robes and pulled out a gleaming six-star knife, its edge catching the dim light of the room.

Without a moment\'s hesitation, he thrust it directly toward the Nether Puppet\'s chest. The blade, sharp enough to slice through most six-star corpse puppets with ease, met the puppet\'s skin—and stopped cold.

The metal halted as though it had struck solid stone. The knife didn\'t pierce, didn\'t even leave a mark.

Vesperin\'s eyes widened in disbelief. He had seen this very knife in action before, effortlessly cutting through other six-star puppets as though they were nothing more than cloth. But now... it was completely useless.

"Impossible..." Vesperin muttered, his voice barely above a whisper, his gaze fixed on the unmoving puppet. He instinctively took a step closer, as if proximity might somehow explain the phenomenon.

He stared at the spot where the knife had made contact, his disbelief etched deeply into his expression. "That knife should\'ve cut right through it," he said, more to himself than to Thalnor. "I\'ve seen it slice through puppets stronger than mine without resistance."

Thalnor\'s smirk widened, the satisfaction in his eyes unmistakable as he withdrew the knife and inspected its unblemished surface. His movements were slow, deliberate, almost as if he were savoring Vesperin\'s astonishment.

"You\'re correct, young master," Thalnor said, his tone soft but dripping with amusement. "Normally, this blade would tear through any six-star corpse puppet. But as you can see..." He gestured toward the Nether Puppet, whose dark red skin remained unmarred. "This is no ordinary creation."

Vesperin\'s disbelief quickly gave way to a new emotion—desire. The way his eyes gleamed as they traced the puppet\'s form made it clear. Power like this was not just something to admire—it was something to possess.