Divine Mask: I Have Numerous God Clones

Thalnor—or more accurately, Lucas, hidden beneath the flawless mask of the elder—stepped into the new lab with a sense of satisfaction humming through his body. The cool air inside the room carried the faint scent of chemicals and death mana, the perfect atmosphere for the task ahead.

Not long after he settled in, the sound of the door creaking open signaled the arrival of the guards, who entered the room with large bundles of materials in hand.

One of the guards, clearly the most senior among them, stepped forward and placed the items carefully on the nearby table. His posture was respectful, but there was an underlying tension in the air.

"Here are the materials you requested for your experiments, Elder Thalnor," the guard said, his tone dutiful but stiff, as if the weight of the items matched the pressure of being in the presence of a clan elder.

Thalnor—Lucas—gave a curt nod, his expression impassive, playing his role to perfection. "Thank you," he replied coolly, his voice steady and formal, betraying nothing of the hidden schemes swirling in his mind.

The guards bowed briefly before making a hasty exit, clearly eager to leave. Once the heavy door shut behind them with a resounding thud, sealing Lucas alone in the lab, his composed facade slipped away. A satisfied smile curved his lips as his thoughts instantly shifted to his next steps.

"System, how long until the end of the year?" he asked, already calculating how much time he had to execute his intricate plan.

The system's voice responded almost immediately, its tone dripping with mockery. [Approximately more than two months. Not that you should be asking me that. Haven't you been paying attention, oh brilliant one?]

Lucas smirked, unfazed by the system's tone. "Plenty of time, then. More than enough to craft all the Nether Puppets they're expecting." He paused, his mind already racing through the many ways this plan would not only meet the clan's demands but further his own agenda. "I'm going to turn their so-called strength into my leverage."

The system let out a shameless chuckle, clearly enjoying its own sense of superiority. [You do have a knack for spinning webs, don't you? But really, I should take the credit. After all, it's my enhancements that make the Nether Puppets so… irresistible.] The system's arrogance was palpable, as if it was waiting for Lucas to give it praise.

Lucas rolled his eyes, but there was a hint of amusement in his voice. "Oh, don't worry, you'll get your share of credit—assuming the puppets don't fall apart in their hands, of course."

[Fall apart? Please.] The system scoffed, sounding almost offended. [These puppets are infused with power far beyond what those simpletons could even comprehend. If anything, they'll be begging you for more. No thanks necessary. It's just what I do.]

"Always so humble," Lucas remarked, his voice laced with sarcasm.

[Humility is for the weak,] the system shot back, its tone sharp but playful. [Now get to work. Two months is enough time if you don't laze around. Not that I expect someone like you to understand time management.]

"Right, right," Lucas said, chuckling softly as he moved toward the materials laid out for him. The mockery from the system had become more of a companion than an irritation—its arrogance only pushing him further toward his goals.

For the first month, Thalnor—still Lucas in disguise—dedicated himself entirely to crafting the 6-star and 7-star Nether Puppets. Every step was executed with precision, his hands moving with practiced ease as he infused each puppet with dark energy and raw power.

The Nether Puppets weren't just replicas of the traditional corpse puppets the Malachor Clan had relied upon for centuries; they were something entirely new, imbued with strength far beyond anything the clan had ever seen.

As the first batch of Nether Puppets neared completion, Lucas observed them with satisfaction. The eerie red skin of each puppet seemed to pulse with latent power, and a faint aura of death mana surrounded them. He could already imagine the astonished faces of the Malachor elders when they received their new weapons.

"These puppets will shatter their expectations," Lucas thought, his lips curling into a smirk as he packed them for delivery.

---

A few days later, the leader of the Malachor Clan stood in the grand hall with a handful of his most trusted elders, anticipation clear in their expressions. They had heard of Thalnor's new Nether Puppets and were eager to see the results.

The door to the hall opened, and several guards carefully carried in the Nether Puppets, presenting them before the clan leader and elders.

As the puppets were unveiled, the leader, a formidable 7-star warrior, stepped forward. His keen eyes studied the puppets, his expression neutral, though there was a glint of curiosity in his gaze.

One of the elders leaned in, his voice low and skeptical. "They look... similar to our current corpse puppets. Do you really think they'll be that much stronger?"

The clan leader didn't respond immediately. He stepped closer to one of the puppets, his hand hovering over its dark red, almost ominous skin. "We'll soon find out," he muttered, his voice filled with quiet confidence.

With a nod to his guards, the leader ordered them to bring in his old corpse puppet for comparison. As it was brought forward, he gave one last glance at the elder, a smirk playing on his lips. "Let's see just how different they are."

The leader stepped back, mentally commanding his old puppet to move. It responded swiftly but mechanically, performing a series of standard combat maneuvers. The elders watched, unimpressed. This was the same efficiency they had come to expect over the years.

Then, with a wave of his hand, the leader commanded the new 7-star Nether Puppet to engage. The difference was immediate.

The Nether Puppet moved with an eerie fluidity, far faster and smoother than the old puppet. Its limbs flexed and extended with a grace that belied its hulking form, and the dark energy it emitted was palpable, swirling around it like a malevolent aura.

The leader's eyes widened in surprise, though he quickly masked his reaction. He signaled for the Nether Puppet to perform the same maneuvers, and once again, it exceeded expectations, its strikes swift and precise.

One of the elders gasped audibly, stepping forward to inspect the puppet more closely. "Its power... I can feel it radiating from here. This is no mere upgrade—it's a transformation."

The leader clenched his fists, clearly pleased with what he was seeing. He commanded the Nether Puppet to engage in a brief spar with his personal corpse puppet. The moment the two clashed, the difference was undeniable.

The old corpse puppet was slow, its movements sluggish in comparison, while the Nether Puppet outmaneuvered it with ease, delivering precise blows that left the old puppet crumpled on the ground.

"Unbelievable," one of the elders whispered, awe in his voice.

The leader, his confidence swelling, turned to the rest of the group, his smile wide and filled with satisfaction. "It's truly remarkable. These Nether Puppets are far superior to anything we've had before."

The elders exchanged nods of agreement, their earlier skepticism completely erased. One of the senior elders, a six-star warrior, spoke up, his voice filled with excitement. "With these, our clan's strength will increase dramatically. Thalnor... he's outdone himself."

The leader's eyes gleamed with ambition. He looked at the elders, then back at the Nether Puppets. "Let's test their full capabilities. It's time to see what they can do in a real battle."

With that, he gestured for the elders to follow him. Each elder, now with their own Nether Puppet, stepped forward, commanding their creations to move. The puppets responded instantly, their dark energy crackling in the air as they followed their masters out of the hall.