Gu Hang’s words caused the presence using the old woman’s body to communicate with him to fall silent for a long ti.
Yet he didn’t feel there was anything wrong with what he had said.
From the content uttered by this "God of Thousand Faces," and from the situation Gu Hang encountered when attempting to devour the remnant soul of Comoros, Gu Hang was basically able to ascertain that this "God of Thousand Faces" was indeed the god of the Spirit Race.
The Spirit Race, once the dominant species of the entire universe, certainly had its own racial god at the height of its power. According to human research on history, revelations from the Spirit Race’s "allies," and interrogations of so Dark Spirit Race prisoners on the Comoros battlefield, so clues had been gathered.
The "Pantheon" might be an imaginary number, but the gods they worshiped were indeed nurous, covering almost every aspect of the Spirit Race’s faith and life.
But in reality, there was only one Pantheon. Those various aspects were actually just one of the "thousand faces" of a single deity.
The God of Thousand Faces, with countless forms, crafted innurable images. There was the desolate visage with a crescent sickle reaping souls, the magnificent headpiece weaving a star chart with thousands of threads, the chaotic silhouette twisting with shrieks in seas of blood and ecstasy... These different faces addressed the various directions of Spirit Race’s faith.
The modern Spirit Race, even, might not necessarily know this.
However, the condition of the God of Thousand Faces was evidently not good.
As Gu Hang said, "They," or rather "He," were undoubtedly failures.
He is a racial god, but the race he protects is nearly on the brink of extinction.
This does not refer to humanity’s attack on Comoros.
Even without that affair, the state of the Spirit Race in this universe is rely hanging by a thread. All their energies can only be put into survival, with no talk of future or developnt.
Perhaps they still hold so powerful, ancient technologies; perhaps their individual strength remains quite high, maintaining a highly advanced civilization.
However, they already have no hope whatsoever.
The entire race has reached this point, so what good is there for a "racial god," the God of Thousand Faces?
The Slaanesh spawned from the corpse of the Spirit Race Empire had long destroyed him to almost nothing.
Now, the so-called thousand faces are reduced to rely two.
Windsor is one face, worshiped by the Ark Eldar, known as the "God of Hope."
nsa is the other face, worshiped by the Dark Spirit Race, known as the "God of Tyranny."
As for Comoros? He was once a face too, known as the "God of Despair," but was already incomplete long ago, leaving only a remnant soul forged into the Comoros God Sword.
Of course, strictly speaking, the God of Thousand Faces isn’t entirely finished; he has even grown stronger—if one were willing to perceive Slaanesh as a forr face of pleasure, another face of the God of Thousand Faces.
Devouring the vast majority of the Spirit Race souls and the divine status of the God of Thousand Faces, hence forming "the youngest of the four gods," in so sense indeed represents the God of Thousand Faces better than the one reduced to just two faces.
How ironic.
In this regard, Gu Hang calling Him a failure is actually quite polite.
And facing Gu Hang’s sarcasm, the deity borrowing the old woman’s body remained silent for a long ti, without replying.
It wasn’t until Gu Hang felt impatient.
He glanced at his watch and said, "Silent ti is also counted. I have a lot of things to do; if you don’t want to say anything, please leave."
The "God of Thousand Faces," using the old woman’s body, let out a bitter laugh.
"You really are relentless."
"Then, please allow to show you so things."
The old woman slightly raised her hand, and a light enveloped Gu Hang.
Endless streams of illusions flooded into Gu Hang.
With Gu Hang’s abilities, he could easily reject these illusions.
However, after hesitating for a mont, he decided—since he’s here, why not take a look.
He saw battlefields from millions of years ago, countless magnificent Spirit Race warships swallowed by the crimson whirlpools as they tried to flee; advanced Spirit Race cities dragged into the storm of Subspace in an instant, forming the foundational components of a new deity’s Divine Realm.
And in the Divine Realm where the God of Thousand Faces resided, the skies were torn apart, with Slaanesh demons stepping out from the Pantheon one after another. They ca from the past, ca from the future, and most importantly, they were here in the present.
The God of Thousand Faces was driven out of the Pantheon, his body long divided into countless pieces.
Due to the lack of the largest part—the part belonging to Slaanesh—they could never unite again, nor could they resist, forced only to scatter and flee.
The claws of the Slaanesh Demon smashed the arrogant deities of the Spirit Race one by one.
The divine remnants scread as they fell into the eternal abyss.
He saw how the surviving fragnts of divinity drifted desperately in the eternal storm of Subspace, colliding, biting, and vying for remaining faith and conceptual power like cosmic dust.
Ultimately, on the brink of complete dissipation, a massive, reality-twisting fear of death deep in the souls of all the Spirit Race, serving as the final link, forcibly glued the largest fragnts together.
This was not rebirth, but a more desperate death imprisonnt—a terrifying congloration ford by hundreds of unidentifiable humble consciousnesses.
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