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Upon entering the Dungeon, August immediately expanded the mists of his world, fully engulfing the area. Everywhere he went, monsters were swiftly consumed, without exception.

August walked at a leisurely pace, as though taking a stroll, while slowly making his way deeper into the Dungeon. He was curious to see what the deeper layers were like. Although the Dungeon was in chaos, most of the monsters flooding towards Orario were from the upper levels. The middle layers had few monsters, and there were none from the lower levels.

This left August to wonder—was the lower level bustling with activity, or had it been left untouched? Now, at this moment, he was the only one here, and rather than rush, he might as well explore the depths thoroughly.

Less than an hour later, August arrived at the 18th floor. This floor had once been one of the few safe zones in the Dungeon, but due to the ongoing chaos, it had been destroyed.

The adventurer town here was a grim sight, with corpses scattered everywhere. During the initial outbreak of the riot, the adventurers here had been the first to be attacked, resulting in countless deaths.

If one were to account for these deaths, August would bear some responsibility. As he looked at the carnage, a faint sense of unease stirred in him. These deaths were, in a sense, his sins.

But August did not regret it. It was done, and there was no point in regret. After all, they were just lives. Even if he carried the weight of those lives, could a demon king truly be called such without bearing some sins?

With this thought, August continued his exploration, moving deeper into the Dungeon with the same casual pace as before.

Back in Orario, as August entered the Dungeon, everyone from the Loki Familia returned to their base. Loki, enraged by Ouranos's machinations, was furious that her people had been used against her, especially without her knowledge. She had almost caught up with them.

This infuriated her further. The consequences were severe. Now, everyone in the Loki Familia was ordered to stay at the base, under strict orders not to leave. As for this particular incident, she could no longer afford to involve herself directly—her child was already in the most dangerous place, so the others would have to tend to their own matters.

If August returned safely, she would only vent her frustrations on Ouranos. But if something happened, if August were to die in the Dungeon, then Ouranos would pay the price.

As a wicked god, Loki's nature mirrored that of a demon god. If pushed far enough, she would not hesitate to do something rash.

Meanwhile, in the Dionysus Familia, Filvis had already informed Dionysus about everything.

"How interesting. So, this August has already discovered your identity and even knows about me?"

"Yes."

"That's strange. If he knows, why hasn't he reported me to Loki or Ouranos?"

"I don't know. But what's odd is that he's only been in Orario for a few months, and his strength has already surpassed that of Aotā. My clone couldn't even stand against him."

"And what if the two of you merged?"

"I'm not sure. But we could at least have a battle."

"That's quite surprising. Humans truly are fascinating," Dionysus said, a mad gleam in his eyes. He had an inkling that the current Dungeon riot had something to do with August. There was no solid evidence, but it was more of an instinct. It felt as though he had found someone of his own kind—someone who, like him, wasn't content with peace.

"So, where is he now?"

"Ouranos gave him a mission to go to the Dungeon and investigate the truth behind the riot. If possible, solve the issue as well."

"And he accepted?"

"Yes. Apparently, Ouranos gave him a divine power crystal that could break the blessings' restrictions."

"A divine power crystal? Ouranos is being generous. Is he trying to create a new hero?"

Dionysus laughed. Throughout human history, there had been many heroes, most of whom had a 'mission' to accomplish some great miracle. In these processes, they would be aided and blessed by the gods.

The most direct example was the existence of Spirits, who were originally sent by gods to assist humans.

Now, it seemed Ouranos was trying to create a new hero.

A divine power crystal, when the gods still had power, was simply a crystal formed from condensed divine energy—nothing particularly precious but not exactly cheap either. But now, especially for mortals in the lower world, a single divine power crystal was enough to create a demi-god.

While they lacked divine blood, these pseudo demi-gods would still possess divine power, enough to surpass any human.

"Let's continue observing," Dionysus said, his tone brimming with anticipation. "I have a feeling this will end quickly. This uprising is just the appetizer."

"Appetizer?"

"Yes, the real horror is yet to come. I'm looking forward to it."

Though Dionysus was known as the god of wine, he was also a madman—truly a complete madman.

His desire to destroy Orario wasn't driven by any particular plan or special goal; he simply enjoyed watching the despair and chaos that humans would experience.

Not only in this world, but also in myth, Dionysus had a rather notorious "track record." Many chaotic cults worshipped him, and in various other worlds, he could be considered an evil god.

Filvis didn't understand why Dionysus spoke this way, but she didn't dare to contradict him. However, she had no intention of underestimating August. She would never forget that one encounter.

Surrounded by a swarm of monsters, all of which were killed by the mist around him, August appeared completely at ease, as if the chaos didn't bother him at all.

This man was a dangerous and terrifying being. If possible, Filvis never wanted to interact with someone like him again—he was too dangerous.

In fact, she even had a feeling that even if she fused with her clone, she might still not be his match.

Now that August had absorbed the divine crystal and broken the blessings' restrictions, he had become a pseudo demi-god. From what Dionysus had said, he had surpassed the power of an ordinary mortal.

For now, Orario had briefly returned to peace.

But beneath this surface peace lay turbulent, unfathomable waves—no one knew what would happen next.

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