I Conquer Hell and Heaven With 666 Trillion Coins

The silence that fell over the now-deserted battlefield lasted only a few seconds.

The Spear of Dawn in Dean’s hand suddenly glowed more brightly than ever before.

Golden Holy Power began to flow uncontrollably from within the spear back into Dean’s body.

At first, he had felt only a slight burning sensation.

Then...

The burning turned to pain.

"Ugh..."

Dean’s body collapsed instantly. He clutched his chest with one hand.

It was as if molten gold were flowing through his veins.

Every muscle fibre was tearing apart, and a terrible pressure was building up inside his bones.

"AAAAAAAGHHHHHHH!!"

The entire forest echoed with his scream.

His back arched backwards involuntarily like a bow. The veins in his neck stood out, and the whites of his eyes had turned bloodshot.

"MASTER!"

Percival, panicking, tried to hold him tightly this time.

But the moment he touched Dean’s body, he was forced to pull his hand back.

Dean’s skin felt like red-hot iron.

Holy Power was surging out from every part of his body, golden light radiating across his skin like cracks.

"AAAAAAAHHHHH!!"

Dean continued to scream as if his throat were being torn apart.

He screamed until all the air in his lungs was gone; with every breath he took, a new wave of pain shook his entire body.

It was as if every cell in his body was shattering and being rebuilt all at once.

This power...

It was not a power the human body could withstand.

Dean finally collapsed onto his side, literally scaring Percival away for a second.

His body was still convulsing uncontrollably, his fingers clenching the earth until they drew blood.

As tears of blood streamed from his eyes, a single thought echoed in his mind.

"I can’t... take any more..." he thought.

At that very moment, system notifications began to appear one after another before him:

[Host’s Holy Power has increased to Third-Level.]

[Host’s Holy Power has increased to Fourth-Level.]

[Host’s Holy Power has increased to Fifth-Level.]

[Host’s Holy Power has increased to Sixth-Level.]

[Host’s Holy Power has increased to Seventh-Level.]

[Host’s Holy Power has increased to Eighth-Level.]

[Host’s Holy Power has increased to the Ninth Level.]

[Congratulations!

The Host has achieved enlightenment!

The Host’s Holy Power has now reached Mid-Grade.

It is now possible to begin second-level cultivation.]

[The Host’s Holy Power has increased to Mid-Grade, First Level.]

[The Host’s Holy Power has increased to Mid-Grade, Second-Level.]

Finally, as the system notifications ceased, the energy flows within and around Dean’s body also began to gradually subside.

However, the pain had not subsided in the slightest.

On the contrary, the devastation caused by the Holy Power’s attempt to forcibly expand his body had now spread to all his muscles and bones.

Dean’s breathing had become erratic.

With every breath he took, it felt as though his chest were being torn apart from within. His fingers were still clutching the earth, blood seeping from beneath his fingernails.

Not a single muscle in his body was under his control. They would contract involuntarily, then relax, only to tremble violently once more.

"...Agh..."

He no longer had the strength even to scream.

His throat was completely torn, his voice choked off.

Percival had sunk to his knees, his large hands clenched into fists as he didn’t know what to do.

"My lord..."

He was seeing him this helpless for the first time.

Thin golden lights were still rising from Dean’s body.

It was as if the Holy Power continued to flow through his veins, forcibly adapting his body to the Mid-Grade level he had just reached.

The process was brutal. It was almost impossible for the human body to cope with such a massive surge in power all at once.

Dean’s eyelids were beginning to grow heavy.

His vision was blurring; the faces in front of him and around him were blurring into one another.

The last thing he heard was Percival’s anxious voice.

"We must take him to the border city at once!"

Then, everything went dark. Dean would not open his eyes until the mission was complete.

For the entire first day, he was running a high fever. His body would occasionally convulse, his breathing would become erratic, and Holy Power would spill out of his body involuntarily.

Percival carried him on his back, whilst the group continued marching northwards without pausing for a single moment.

No one complained.

Because they all knew. Without Dean, none of them would have made it out of that forest alive.

By the second day, Dean’s fever had begun to subside gradually. Yet he had not yet regained consciousness. His face had grown pale, his lips parched.

Now and then, his brows would furrow, and he would utter pained sounds unconsciously. It was as if, despite being unconscious, the transformation within his body was continuing.

Percival had hardly rested at all. Even for a ghost, his energy could run out. Ghosts drew their energy from their masters, apart from their core.

Percival, however, was drawing no energy from his master, Dean, so as not to harm him, and was instead using the energy within his own core.

This could, in the truest sense of the word, kill Percival.

He had not let his master down for a single moment, clearing the most dangerous paths with his own body as they advanced.

The friendly angels by their side took turns keeping watch over the surroundings, remaining on high alert against any potential threat that might approach.

On the morning of the third day, massive stone walls began to come into view in the distance. Towers rising to the sky signalled that they had finally reached the border city.

As soon as the guards at the gates spotted the approaching group, they immediately began preparations to let them in.

Dean, however, was oblivious to all this.

His consciousness was still lost in the depths of darkness.

As he was carried through the gates of the border city, all he could manage was a faint breath.

After three days of unconsciousness, the Holy Power within his body had finally settled completely.

But the price had been heavy. Dean’s body was exhausted.

His muscles, bones and veins had been reshaped; they had been pushed to their limits to adapt to Mid-Grade Holy Power.

Now, the only thing awaiting him was a long and arduous recovery process.

When he opened his eyes once more, exactly five days had passed since they had left the barrier and set off for the city.

Dean had woken up to the system notification windows in front of him, and the corners of his lips had curled up slightly.

The fact that his body was wrapped in bandages meant he had injuries, and those injuries were HEAVY.

At least he was alive. There was nothing else he could wish for at that moment.

"Master, you’ve woken up!!!"

Dean had suddenly heard Percival’s voice. As the sound echoed in his mind, Dean smiled genuinely this time and said, "We lived."

That alone was enough to put Percival completely at ease.

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