Yet Erza did not leave their eyes.
She watched all of them, every god, every divine being seated at that heavenly table, as if she was prepared to end them alone.
Her gaze moved from the God of War to the Goddess of Life, from the God of Strategy to the Goddess of Contract, from the Goddess of Beauty to the God of Soul. She measured them. Judged them. Found them wanting.
The pressure was suffocating.
The Tower of Gods, built with gold and ancient techniques that predated the memory of the world itself, began to tremble. Cracks spiderwebbed across its divine walls.
Dust rained from its impossible heights. The structure that had stood for eons, that had witnessed the rise and fall of countless civilizations, that had never once wavered under any force, was shaking.
