I Reborn as a God Within a Statue, And You Ask Me to Enslave All Gods?-Chapter 143 --Angels

Standing at the edge of the lake, Owen slowly scanned his surroundings, his eyes calmly surveying every inch of the area. For now, he saw nothing out of the ordinary.

However, the very fact that this place could block his territorial senses meant only one thing...

His eyes narrowed. Streams of golden divine point surged like liquid gold into his pupils. In the next instant, his gaze lit up with a majestic golden glow—regal and divine, burning like sunlight condensed into swordlight that pierced through the void itself.

Owen had just burned through 1,500 divine points to activate a divine ability—[God’s Eye], the power to see through all things in creation.

The world transformed.

The swamp and sludge vanished from his sight. In their place unfolded a vision of radiant clarity, where only the fluctuating threads of order remained—like an all-encompassing web that spanned heaven and earth, stretching across all things with serene inevitability.

The shift in perspective sent a tremor through Owen’s soul.

So... this was the power of God’s Eye?

It could directly perceive the underlying laws of the universe?

If this ability were granted to the high-ranking Awakeners of humanity, they would surely burst into uncontrollable excitement. After all, grasping the nature of order was one of the most elusive challenges in their path. Many spent their entire lives attempting, and failing, to gain even the faintest glimpse of it.

Yet now, Owen could see it clearly.

With just this one glance, the profound mysteries of order began to unfold before him—no trial, no years of insight, just the sheer might of divine perception.

A new thought stirred within him. Slowly, he looked up—toward the blazing sun hanging in the sky.

Under the gaze of God’s Eye, the sun was no longer a radiant celestial body.

It was a corpse.

A colossal, lifeless sphere made of countless collapsed strands of order. Not light, but only the fading remnants of order’s final glow flickered within it.

Owen felt a shiver crawl down his spine.

Something was wrong.

It was as if this entire plane of existence harbored a fatal flaw—rooted in that very sun.

A sun that wasn’t a sun at all, but a dead construct of broken order. Had that decaying, aberrant star played a role in the collapse of the Caesar Empire? Was it the source of all the strange, inexplicable changes to this dimension?

His instincts screamed: yes.

"I’ve only just stepped onto the path of divinity," Owen muttered, voice quiet and solemn. "There’s still a long road ahead."

He recalled the divine hierarchy as he currently understood it—eighteen total ranks of gods. He was only a 2-star peak Ancient God—still far from the higher realms.

That sun—formed of unraveling laws and soaked in aberration—was not something he could touch for now. Though it posed no direct threat, its very presence hinted at ancient cataclysms and a reality far more complex than he had imagined.

Pushing aside these grander questions for now, Owen refocused. His gaze dropped once more to the dried-up lake.

The obstructing mud and mire had completely disappeared under the God’s Eye. What he saw instead was shocking—a mountain, upside down and embedded deep beneath the surface.

Suspended beneath the earth.

The moment Owen laid eyes on it, he felt the immense pressure of time—a weight that stretched back through countless eras.

This mountain had existed here for a very, very long time.

And with that ancient aura came something eerily familiar. From the very surface of the inverted peak, he could sense the residual essence of the Caesar Empire’s era—buried but not yet lost.

Oddly, however, the mountain emanated no danger.

This was very different from his earlier glance at the blazing dead sun, which had stirred an instinctive fear. Though both were constructs of abnormal order, the mountain lacked that same oppressive dread.

The sun had made his skin crawl with just one look—as if continuing to gaze at it would result in some unknowable catastrophe.

But this mountain? It was simply... silent.

Owen narrowed his gaze and once again activated the God’s Eye, directing its divine light toward the heart of the mountain.

His gaze pierced the heavy rock, penetrating through the stone and sediment until it reached the core.

Then—he froze.

Inside the mountain was not mere rock.

It was a sealed world.

A pocket dimension. A tranquil, dark expanse where dozens of coffins floated like stars in a still night.

Roughly sixty-five coffins, from what he could tell, each suspended gently in the void. Each radiated a powerful, ancient aura. Carved into each one was the symbol of a cross, uniform in design, hinting at a shared origin.

And something—someone—was sealed within.

Owen’s pupils shrank. Focusing further, he forced his God’s Eye to delve deeper, brushing aside the divine resistance emitted from the coffins’ symbols.

And then—he saw them.

His breath caught.

Inside each coffin lay not a human... but an angel.

Each figure rested peacefully, hands crossed over their chest, eight snow-white wings folded behind their back. Their bodies were surrounded by a soft, sacred glow, like divine statues frozen in time.

Angels.

The slumbering figures exuded the aura of light itself. They looked like divine gods of holy radiance, each trapped in an eternal sleep.

Owen’s mind reeled as fragments of lore and myth began surfacing from deep within his divine consciousness.

"The Descendants of the Angelic Race..."

Long ago, it was said that the angelic race vanished mysteriously from the world during the rise of humanity. Since then, no trace of them had been found.

Yet here—hidden beneath a dried-up lake in a forgotten corner of the land—lay dozens of them.

Sixty tier-6 angels. Five tier-7 angels.

Such a terrifying force could shatter nations.

The combat prowess of the angelic race was the stuff of legend—invincible among their peers, able to challenge beings of higher rank with ease. If these angels were ever to awaken...

The world would tremble.

But they had been sleeping too long. Though their skin remained soft and unblemished, and their holy light had not dimmed, they were dead in all but appearance.

Only faint traces of life clung to them—bare threads resisting the final embrace of death.

"If I sold their corpses to the system’s divine marketplace..." Owen murmured to himself, a flicker of greed flashing in his mind. "I could earn an enormous sum of divine points."

Angels, after all, were beings of legend.

Even their remains held staggering value within the divine economy. And surrounding them—this entire inverted mountain—was itself a Sacred Vestige of incredible worth.

Through God’s Eye, Owen estimated it to be no less than tier-8 in classification.

He had never encountered a Sacred Vestige of this level before. No wonder his divine senses had been blocked—it was the presence of this very mountain.

Its primary function, he realized now, was concealment. That was why even he—a 2-star peak Ancient God—had been unable to detect it with conventional divine perception.

Even tier-9 Awakeners or spellbeasts, without a god’s domain or the God’s Eye, would never be able to sense its aberrant presence.

"These angels... who knows how many ancient centuries they’ve weathered," Owen whispered. "Their auras are faint, their bodies nearly corpses... but not completely. Some small spark remains." freeweɓnovēl.coɱ

It explained everything.

The nearby spellbeasts that had vanished mysteriously?

They had wandered too close.

And been instinctively devoured by these dormant beings—driven not by malice, but by a residual reflex of divine self-preservation.

Owen stood in awe.

To see this many angels in one place—dead or not—was a historic moment.

And with that thought, he vanished from his position with a flash of divine light and reappeared inside the sealed space beneath the mountain.

Floating among the coffins, surrounded by the silent majesty of these ancient beings, he reached out and pressed his hand against the nearest coffin’s surface.

"I must see it for myself."

And with that, Owen began to open the coffin.