I Conquer Hell and Heaven With 666 Trillion Coins

Once everything was sorted, Dean had informed the restaurant that he would be returning the following day and would be ordering the same menu six times, adding that he would make an extra payment once everything was fully prepared.

After leaving nearly seven hundred thousand Nether and Aether coins with the restaurant, the young man had left the premises and been taken directly to his own villa by horse-drawn carriage.

It all felt a little strange to him.

One could say he felt a strange restlessness and a newly arisen weariness in his body. It was a rather heavy and dreadful feeling for him.

Although he had thought it might be due to the meal, he knew full well that wasn’t the case.

He reached into his inventory, quickly pulled out a few packets of food and placed them on a table.

"Have a feast, Percival. I’ll have a bath before going to bed," said the young man. He knew there was no way to shake off this feeling for the moment, and he didn’t want to dwell on it.

So, after a quick shower, he laid his head on the pillow and planned to go to sleep early.

He would fall asleep shortly, but his dream... would be very different.

When Dean opened his eyes again, he realised he was in an unfamiliar setting.

There were many people around him.

Each of them seemed to be speaking one after the other, expressing what was happening and their thoughts.

Dean, however, could not hear what they were saying.

Still, he could sense that something was wrong.

His whole body was trembling uncontrollably; he felt as though he were seeing something he shouldn’t.

At that moment, the scene around him began to change.

The faces and bodies he’d seen before had vanished, and the area he was in had been split right down the middle.

One side of this split was golden yellow, whilst the other was blood red.

Then a few buildings appeared, and immediately afterwards, several people standing in front of the largest of them came into view.

He could see that everyone was staring strangely at one person. He began to walk slowly towards that area.

With every step he took, more people began to gather around those figures, but what Dean hadn’t expected was that he recognised one of them.

"Lady Nemesis?" the young man asked.

He reached out to push his way through the crowd, but his hand passed right through them.

None of them was solid.

"This is a dream," he muttered. He immediately looked around again, wondering if this place looked familiar.

Unable to recall ever having been anywhere that looked like this, he turned his gaze back to that area once more.

When the young man took another step forward, he passed through the ethereal forms of several figures and, realising he must not stop, decided to at least try to understand what was happening.

Eventually, he managed to make his way through all those people and get as close to Nemesis as possible.

When he turned towards the person Nemesis and the others were looking at, the first thing that caught his attention was what that person was wearing.

A round, low-crowned hat with a broad circular brim that shaded the face and neck.

It was a petasos.

This man, kneeling before everyone with his hands bound behind his back, was none other than Hermes himself.

He was the very man known as one of the High-Gods, the Messenger of the Gods.

He was constantly saying something.

Dean could see his mouth moving, but he couldn’t make out what he was saying.

Whilst everyone around him was glaring at him maliciously, their faces bearing signs of disappointment, Dean had managed to notice something else.

In the distance stood a figure with long hair tied at the back, an unusual gaze, and a smile on his face that was nothing short of the devil’s own.

As Dean drew nearer, the image became clearer, and the young man was able to make out, in broad strokes, what sort of person this was.

A long, white, coat-like garment, golden hair tied at the back, a pair of golden eyes, and sandals on his feet.

Unlike the others, this person was looking at the man on his knees with malicious intent.

It wasn’t hard to see that.

Dean’s face twisted in disgust.

It was as if someone had just accused someone else of a crime.

Hermes didn’t look as though he were the guilty one. When Dean looked at his face, it was clear he was trying to prove something.

"Who... are you?" Dean had asked.

His curiosity was growing with every passing second, and at that moment he could feel his body beginning to tremble.

He kept looking around, trying to make sense of what was happening, when suddenly everything went dark, and the young man opened his eyes.

Instead of the cluttered space from moments before, he was now looking up at the ceiling of the room where he lay.

He could immediately see Percival looking at him with concern.

"Master, are you alright?" Percival asked with great concern.

When Dean sat up in bed, he could see through the window that it was still dark outside.

He didn’t know how many hours he’d slept, but he was acutely aware of the question on his mind.

[Who... was that?]

Just as the young man had thought he’d get a good night’s sleep at the end of a normal, happy day, he’d ended up with a new headache.

It was a dream, so the fact that nothing was real was at the back of his mind, but... strangely, everything had felt real.

Dean was aware of his actions, and it didn’t stop there...

The young man remembered every detail of the dream he’d had.

At that moment, he turned his gaze to Percival and asked, "You know all about gods and goddesses, right?"

At Dean’s question, Percival immediately nodded and replied, "Of course, my lord. If you are asking about the Ancient Gods and Goddesses, I know a few, but if you are asking about the Main ones, I know all about them."

Dean, for his part, took a deep breath.

He needed to find out from Percival who that god was.

So he began his explanation about how that god...or guy looked like:

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