[A/N: I'm Sick, updates will be slow. But I will try my best.]
In terms of raw destructive potential, he was already the strongest being in existence—and that was the trap. That confidence, that certainty, that feeling of being untouchable… it was exactly the kind of mindset that got people killed in a world like this.
One day, he would face someone strong enough to ignore every treasure he could pull out, forcing him into a direct fight before he was strong enough or ready for one. At that point, what would he do? He would be completely and utterly cooked, because he had stopped relying on the thing that had carried him his entire life—his brain—and had started leaning on treasures as a crutch instead.
'I have no interest in a kingdom... fine, I will just get a harem.' Ethan thought, sighing softly. The logic was simple enough. He could build a harem of women who could each cultivate the Omnipotent Cultivation Art.
Unlike him, they would each be all-powerful within a specific domain—a single aspect of omnipotence that they could master and call their own. But Ethan himself would be all-powerful across all domains, standing above every single one of them. Why? Because he had Omnipotent Talent, the Omnipotent Physique, and the simple, immovable fact that only one person could cultivate the true Omnipotent Cultivation Art at a time.
He was the one cultivating the true version. Everyone else who received it would essentially be cultivating a derivative—the Nigh-Omnipotence Cultivation Art. Still unbelievably powerful, still capable of pushing someone to heights that the rest of the world couldn't even dream of reaching, but ultimately one step below his own.
But there was a problem. He needed to find women talented enough to actually handle something like this. Not just anyone could cultivate an art of this magnitude—the backlash alone would kill someone who wasn't up to the task. And the art itself wasn't static; it would reshape and adapt itself to suit the person Ethan allowed to cultivate it, molding around their nature, their affinity, and their potential.
For example, it could become the Nigh-Omnipotence Darkness Cultivation Art, meaning the domain of darkness would be claimed by that individual. But once a domain was taken, it was gone—no one else could claim it.
And the person who took that domain needed to be worthy enough for the cultivation art to accept them. If they weren't, if the art looked at them and found them lacking, the rejection would be violent. Their mind would explode from the backlash, killing them instantly. So the candidates needed to have enough talent and potential for the art to recognize them on contact and know that they were capable of walking that path.
'I'm sure there are an infinite number of people out there who are capable... talent isn't a strict requirement. I'll just let the art pick.' Ethan thought calmly, closing his eyes and letting his mind settle as he waited.
He had a scheme to play out—one he had spent years laying the groundwork for. For a long time now, he had been carefully maneuvering to turn his mother and his sister into pieces on his board, and today, that long game was finally about to pay off. Even though he no longer needed them the way he originally planned to, the scheme was already in motion, and there was no reason not to let it run its course.
***
Flashback Ended.
So yeah, Ethan was planning on forming a harem. That was the endgame behind everything he had just done—the speech, the sincerity, the guilt, the self-sacrifice. All of it had been carefully designed to lead to this exact outcome.
Ethan sat back and watched as the females fought amongst themselves, arguing and posturing and threatening one another over who held the most claim to him. Meanwhile, the male cultivators hovering above the chaos stared down in open-mouthed shock.
Just a few minutes ago, these women had wanted to kill Ethan. They had been united in their desire to see him suffer. And yet, right before their eyes, those same women were now fighting over him, each one trying to secure her position at his side.
And let's not forget the matter with the demon race. Ethan had talked his way out of a four-Demi-God ambush and had even managed to make the demons look like fools on a live broadcast that the entire world was watching.
Ethan was too dangerous—dangerously intelligent, dangerously charismatic, and dangerously good at making everything he said sound perfectly reasonable… but absolutely nothing about what he had just said to make these women fight was reasonable. Not a single word of it held up under any kind of rational scrutiny. These girls were just crazy. And Ethan knew exactly how to use that.
"You fools!" One of the male cultivators above couldn't contain himself any longer, his voice cracking with frustration as he screamed down at the women below.
"Don't call them fools. I don't care if you're a cultivator… I will fight you." Ethan snapped back, his voice carrying a reckless intensity that bordered on insanity. But he was honestly scared that they would spoil the beans on his plan if they kept talking.
"Little rabbit." Raven looked at Ethan, stunned and genuinely moved by his words. What a wonderful husband she had. She almost cried at the sight of him standing up for her, but she caught herself, reminding herself that her little rabbit was weak. She couldn't let him throw himself into a fight that would get him killed.
"You cripple!" The man snapped, glaring down at Ethan with a hatred so pure it twisted his handsome features into something ugly, as if Ethan had personally stolen the life that was supposed to be his.
He descended from the sky and moved to kill Ethan—but in the very next instant, his body exploded into a fine red mist that scattered across the venue floor. A Martial Emperor, gone just like that, erased from existence in the time it took to blink.
"Don't call my man a cripple," Iris said calmly, her hand still raised from the casual flick of her fingers that had just ended a Martial Emperor's life. As the strongest person present, her words carried more weight than anyone else's in this room.
The fact that she was the calmest person here was a bit unsettling—she was known across the empire as one of the Demi Gods with the shortest temper, a woman who had leveled planets over perceived slights. But around Ethan, she was so composed, so serene, that it was honestly more frightening than her anger would have been.
"It's okay, it's true," Ethan said, laughing softly, and the sound of that laugh—gentle, self-deprecating, accepting—made Iris' heart ache in a way she hadn't felt in centuries.
She stepped forward and pulled Ethan into a hug, pressing his face against her chest, his head nestled firmly between her D cups. It was a warm, protective embrace that Ethan absolutely did not dare enjoy, because he could feel the weight of every single gaze in the venue boring into the back of his skull like heated daggers.
"He is manipulating you all!" Another man screamed from above, his lungs straining, his eyes bloodshot and wild at how insane this entire scene looked. How could these women just allow this?
Every single one of them knew Ethan's character. They knew what he was. They knew how he operated—and yet they were standing here, letting him control them like puppets on strings?
"I will count to 3. If you are all still here, you die." Iris said softly, her calm gaze lifting toward the male cultivators with an expression that made it clear this was not a negotiation.
They gritted their teeth, fists clenched, veins bulging along their necks and foreheads, but not a single one of them was listening to reason anymore. And neither were the women. The members of the Ice Phoenix Sect, the dragon clan elder, the Blood Queen, and every other woman present—none of them were paying the slightest attention to the male cultivators' protests.
They were all far more concerned with the fact that Iris was hugging their man, and the collective fury radiating from them over that single act of physical contact was thick enough to suffocate in.
So, that day, the world—which was still watching the live broadcast with their jaws on the floor—was left utterly speechless as Ethan found himself with a harem. It was a sight that the cultivation world would study and debate for years to come, scholars and strategists alike marveling at the sheer impossibility of what a single mortal had managed to pull off with nothing but his words and his understanding of the human heart.
***
"That bastard!" Seraph's scream was so loud it rattled the walls of the chamber she was standing in, her eyes bloodshot and burning as she stared at the video on her phone showing everything that had happened after she had been dragged away.
But more than the harem, more than the women, what truly enraged her was the fact that she had allowed Ethan to lie to her again. She had stood right in front of him, looked into his eyes, and believed every word—just like last time.
"I will kill him! I will skin him! No, I will torture him for all of eternity!" She roared, her demonic aura flaring so violently that the furniture around her began to crack and splinter. She was completely ignoring the demon lord—her own father—who sat upon his throne behind her, watching the entire outburst with an expression that hovered somewhere between amusement and exasperation.
To the side, a mirror floated in the air, showing Ellen's image within its surface. And kneeling before the demon lord, their heads bowed low and their bodies trembling, were the four Demi God demons that had been tricked by Ethan. The horror in their eyes was unmistakable—the realization that they, beings who had lived for millennia and conquered worlds, had been outsmarted by a mortal who couldn't even cultivate.
"Haha! My son is impressive… what a shame you took his bloodline." The demon lord laughed at the spectacle, his voice rumbling through the throne room before his gaze shifted toward Ellen's image in the mirror, a hint of annoyance flickering behind his otherwise entertained expression.
Ellen didn't react to the demon lord's words. She didn't flinch, look away, or offer any defense or justification. She believed the same thing he did—Ethan was impressive, and she had stolen the potential that could have made him something far greater.
"Although I'm annoyed at the fact that you four were given a clear task, and went off script because of something a mortal said." The demon lord said, his attention shifting back to the four Demi Gods kneeling before him. But before any of them could open their mouths to beg for mercy or offer an explanation, he laughed lightly.