Divine Mask: I Have Numerous God Clones

Taking a deep breath, Lucas carefully placed the mask on his face. The moment it made contact, he felt an unsettling shift ripple through his body. His skin tingled, his muscles tensed, and his bones seemed to rearrange themselves.

He watched in the small mirror across the room as his reflection morphed—his features softening, his form shrinking—until he was an exact replica of Lucy. The transformation was so complete that it left him breathless.

"This... this is surreal," Lucas muttered, his voice, now Lucy's voice, a soft and feminine echo of his own. But there was no time to dwell on the strangeness of it all. He knew the importance of the mission at hand.

Steeling himself, Lucas began to cultivate the divine scripture. Almost immediately, he felt the power of the Volcanic Dragon Core stirring deep within, like a sleeping giant awakening from its slumber. The energy was intense, raw, and violent as it attempted to take shape within him, lashing out as if trying to claim his body as its own.

Suddenly, the system's voice cut through the haze of pain, dripping with condescension that made it impossible to ignore. [Host,] it began, its tone laced with disdain, [I must inform you that the mana in this area is far too impure and pitifully sparse to properly awaken Lucy's physique.]

Lucas gritted his teeth, the searing pain already coursing through his body like a raging inferno. Every nerve felt as if it were on fire, as though flames were licking at his skin, consuming him from the inside out. "What am I supposed to do then? I am already burning here," he grunted, struggling to maintain focus amidst the torment.

[Well, obviously you're burning,] the system mocked, its tone haughty and dismissive. [You don't possess a special fire-related physique. Honestly, I expected you to figure that out on your own, but I suppose I overestimated you.]

"Damn it, this is unbearable!" Lucas cursed, his voice strained with desperation. His frustration mounted as the intensity of the pain grew, each wave of agony threatening to overwhelm him. "But if I stop now, all my effort will be wasted."

The system sighed, as if burdened by Lucas's inability to handle the situation. [Hmph, I suppose I'll have to save you from your own incompetence,] it sneered, the sarcasm in its voice unmistakable. [I can transfer mana from the Divine Mask - Zeus. Although it's thunder mana, it's infinitely purer than the garbage floating around here. It will suffice.]

Lucas's eyes flickered with a glimmer of hope, though the pain made it difficult to think clearly. "Fine. Do it—drain Zeus dry!" he ordered, his voice tinged with desperation and resolve. He could barely manage to keep the words steady, his body trembling as it fought against the burning sensation that threatened to consume him.

[Consider it done,] the system replied with a tone of exaggerated nonchalance, as if the task were a minor inconvenience.

Lucas clenched his fists, bracing himself as the system began to siphon the pure thunder mana from Zeus. The difference was immediate and stark. The purity of the thunder mana coursed through him, pushing back against the impure fire mana that had been ravaging his body.

The pain, though still intense, became more manageable, more controlled. It was as if the burning flames were tempered by the crackling electricity, stabilizing the volatile energy within him.

Lucas could feel the shift, his body responding to the influx of thunder mana as it bolstered his strength. He forced himself to focus on cultivating, using the purer energy to fuel the creation of the Volcanic Dragon Core within him.

The process was still agonizing—each movement of energy within him felt like molten lava being shaped into something new—but the thunder mana provided a lifeline, a stabilizing force amidst the chaos.

As the minutes dragged on, Lucas's breath came in ragged gasps. His muscles tensed, his skin slick with sweat, but he refused to give in to the pain. "This... this is like being torn apart and stitched back together," he thought, the image vivid in his mind as he struggled to contain the raw power coursing through him.

[Oh, quit your whining,] the system chided, its tone both amused and impatient. [You're almost there. A little more pain and you'll have that core fully formed.]

Lucas bit down on his lower lip, drawing blood as he pushed through the final stages of the process. The taste of iron flooded his mouth, grounding him as he continued to channel the mana, shaping it with an intensity that bordered on desperation.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the process began to slow. The energy within him settled, solidifying into the Volcanic Dragon Core he had been striving to create.

Exhausted, Lucas collapsed to his knees, panting heavily. "That... was... unbelievably painful," he gasped, his voice hoarse. Every inch of his body ached, and the aftershocks of the pain still reverberated through him. "I never want to do that again."

[Oh, but you will,] the system's voice dripped with smug amusement. [If you want to get stronger and fully utilize the divine scriptures, you'll have to endure this delightful torture for every mask you create. Good luck—you're going to need it.]

Lucas's eyes widened in horror as the reality of the situation sank in. He had hoped this would be a one-time ordeal, but now it seemed that this torture was merely the beginning.

"No... no way," he muttered, dread creeping into his voice. His future, which he had envisioned as a path to power, now loomed before him as a gauntlet of pain and endurance.

The system, unbothered by his distress, simply hummed in satisfaction. [Well, Host, it seems you've got a long road ahead of you. Better get used to it.]

Lucas could only curse under his breath, knowing that his quest for strength had only just begun—and that it would be paved with more agony than he had ever imagined.