The last light of dusk faded into the horizon, painting the sky in streaks of orange and deep indigo. A low wind stirred the divine fog that clung to the land like a living shroud. From the outer reaches of the territory, distant howls began to rise — eerie, guttural, and long. The creatures lurking in the mists were growing restless again. The time of the night hunt had come.
Clark stood quietly near the outer courtyard of the palace grounds, gazing into the distance. The divine fog pulsed faintly under the weight of nightfall, and with it came an unsettling chill. Behind him, the flickering lights of the territory's torches danced in sync with the growing tension in the air.
Seraphiel approached, armored and prepared, her spear resting across her back. She stood silently beside him until he finally spoke.
"We've rested long enough. Assemble the crusaders. We'll hunt tonight."
Seraphiel gave a small nod and vanished in a flicker of white wings.
Within minutes, the courtyard stirred to life as the crusaders gathered. Their equipment was clean, sharp, and blessed — polished breastplates reflecting the torches, helmets tucked under arms, blades and halberds slung across their backs. Lilith was already at the front, arms folded, the usual calm in her eyes now laced with silent anticipation. Though their rest had been short, none of them looked tired. If anything, they looked eager.
The delay caused by the phantom pressure of the God of War the previous day had left a mark. They hadn't moved from the village perimeter during that time, and many of the crusaders had felt the sting of helplessness under divine weight. Tonight was their chance to reclaim that lost ground.
Clark walked to the front of the group. He didn't give a speech. He didn't need to. The crusaders followed him not because of words, but because of presence.
They moved out.
—
As they crossed the inner barrier of the domain, the divine mist grew heavier, clinging to their skin like damp silk. The fog monsters were active tonight — Clark could hear them clearly now. Their howls were sharper, louder. Echoes of snarling beasts drifted from the shadows. Every so often, a faint rumble would roll beneath the ground as some massive aberration passed far off in the distance.
These weren't mindless beasts. They were drawn to divine breath — to the scent of new gods, growing domains, and the shift in the divine rhythm that came with expansion. The moment Clark had upgraded his palace and expanded the territory, he had disturbed the equilibrium. The fog responded with hunger.
The first engagement came quickly.
A low-skulking beast burst from the mist, a mangled fusion of hound and vine, its jaws dripping with acidic smoke. The crusaders moved in perfect formation. Shields locked, halberds drove forward. Two lances of light impaled the creature as Lilith struck low, slicing through its legs. It writhed once before melting into mist.
More came.
A wave of shrieking fog-born beasts rushed them, crawling over one another, spitting black ichor, their eyes glowing like smoldering embers in the dark. Clark stepped forward slightly and gave a signal. His divine aura flared briefly — enough to mark the perimeter of the skirmish zone, but not enough to disrupt the equilibrium of divinity in the fog.
He had to be careful.
Unlike mortal champions, gods did not recklessly throw around divine skills. Every activation altered the divine rhythm and could attract greater, more dangerous attention. But as a god, his role wasn't to unleash chaos — it was to control it.
Clark instead used his presence — amplifying the resolve of his troops, increasing their mental resistance and keeping the divine rhythm stable. The crusaders fought as a seamless machine. Even wounded soldiers found their strength returning subtly, assisted by the passive regeneration enhancements left by Clark's previous Restoration cast.
Over the course of an hour, they cleared three fog zones — each growing denser with resistance. Several larger beasts attempted ambushes, some of them wrapped in cursed shrouds or carrying minor void contamination. Seraphiel personally brought down a six-legged bone leviathan with a single piercing blow. Lilith, quieter than usual, moved like a ghost, cutting through spawnlings before they could sound alarms deeper into the fog.
By the second hour, the crusaders had amassed a small pile of divine fog cores and mutant beast remnants. Their spirits were high, their fatigue minimal.
Clark ordered a halt at the third zone's edge, standing calmly as he surveyed the mist beyond.
A deep, vibrating growl echoed somewhere in the darkness. It wasn't close, but it wasn't far either.
The fog was alive that night.....
It twisted unnaturally, forming tendrils that licked at the ground and coiled around trees like serpents. There was a strange silence too — a pause in the nocturnal sounds, broken only by a guttural, inhuman wheeze rising from the mist ahead.
Suddenly, a figure limped from the gloom.
It was malformed — hunched, grotesquely tall, its limbs elongated beyond natural proportion. The torso was bloated with cracked divine runes etched across its flesh like burned scripture. Where its face should have been, there was only a pit of swirling black and fractured silver — a ruined divine core flickering like a dying star.
"A-Aberration…" one of the crusaders whispered, voice quivering.
Even Seraphiel and Lilith faltered. The holy spear in Seraphiel's hand trembled for the first time since her descent. The rest of the crusaders instinctively took a step back — not from fear, but a deep, primordial instinct.
Only gods could kill these things.
Creatures born of corrupted divinity — aberrations were the result of twisted remnants of fallen gods or divine evils ingesting fractured cores and becoming something else. Something abominable. Something that remembered being divine — and hated the living for it.
"Fall back," Clark said, voice firm. "All of you."
They hesitated.
"Now."
Lilith was the first to move, yanking back one of the frozen crusaders. Seraphiel followed, wings flaring as she ushered the rest further away, well beyond the fight zone.
Alone now, Clark stood still.
The aberration howled — a wretched screech that seemed to tear through the fog like a sawblade. The trees nearby withered under the pressure, their bark flaking into ash.
Clark's eyes narrowed.
The thing lunged.
It was impossibly fast — for its size, it moved like smoke, all limbs and tendrils, rushing him with claws that could sever stone.
[Divine Skill: Absolute Barrier – level 1]
Consumption - 2000 divine essence/ minute (20 divinity)
Skill Proficiency increased by 10%
A dome of golden hexagrams surged up around him, expanding out like a ripple. The aberration's claws struck it instantly, sending shockwaves into the ground, cracking earth and stone beneath. The air shook.
The barrier flickered — not cracking, but groaning under the force. Its edges flared and shimmered, absorbing the initial impact with radiant energy.
Clark didn't flinch.
"Let's test your endurance."
He raised his right hand to the sky.
[Divine Skill: Starfall - level 2]
Consumption - 4000 divine essence(40 divinity)
Skill Proficiency increased by 8%
The heavens trembled. The clouds above split in a vertical line as if a great eye had opened, and from within, a faint star of pure divine light appeared — rapidly growing larger, burning with cold, silver fire. The air pressure plummeted. The fog retreated from the sky in terror.
The aberration shrieked again, its false divine core pulsing rapidly, a deep crimson light erupting from its broken chest. It tried to retreat.
Too late.
The star descended.
It wasn't fast — but it was absolute. Gravity and authority fused, and the burning meteor crashed into the aberration like judgment itself.
Boom!
The impact shattered the air. Trees in a 30-meter radius were leveled. The fog split apart as light engulfed the field. The golden dome flickered with strain, absorbing collateral damage from the explosion. Flames of divine origin licked outward, devouring the corrupted energy lingering in the air.
When the dust cleared, the aberration was still moving.
Its limbs were broken. Its body had been torn open at the center. But it hadn't died.
It laughed — a horrible, metallic gargle as it pulled itself from the crater. That cracked core in its chest, though dim, still pulsed.
Clark's eyes sharpened.
His barrier weakened, now cracked at the edge from taking too much of the impact. His divine energy stirred again.
He stepped forward.
The aberration, wounded but enraged, launched another shriek — this one aimed at the soul. A ripple of distorted will attempted to latch onto his spirit.
Too late.
[Divine Skill: Absolute Barrier – critical Hit Triggered (Synchronizing with innate talent Dominion- Suppression Triggered]
Consumption - 8000 divine essence(80 divinity)
Skill Proficiency increased by 20%
A golden light erupted from Clark's form, washing over the battlefield like law itself being declared. The aberration's corrupted soul was struck directly. Its form stuttered, limbs freezing mid-motion.
Clark's fingers traced a sigil in the air.
A second, smaller star began to form — this one glowing white-blue, dense and focused. It hovered for half a breath, then slammed into the aberration's chest at point-blank range.
No explosion. Just a flash of light.
And then — silence.
The creature's form collapsed inward, the core within finally shattered. With a hiss of dissolving smoke, the aberration disintegrated into fragments of ash and golden sparks. Nothing was left but the faint trace of divine residue, crackling softly in the wind.
What remained of the aberration — ash, smoldering divine residue, and cracks in the very ground — was slowly being reclaimed by the creeping fog. Yet something in the air had changed. It shimmered subtly, like the pause before a storm or the moment before thunder.
Clark stood still for a moment, breathing deeply.
Only when he lowered his hand did the barrier around him finally dissipate, its integrity exhausted.
Then, it happened.
A deep gong resounded three times through the sky — not through air or wind, but directly through the world's foundation. Every god, demigod, and follower across the realm heard it, regardless of distance or domain.
[Ding!]
[Ding!]
[Ding!]
The sound wasn't loud, but it was absolute — like the tolling of celestial bells. It stilled even the wind.
Then came the voice, calm and neutral, yet laden with grandeur:
[Universal System Announcement]
"Congratulations to the Verdant God for achieving a historic milestone."
"You are the first to slay a Rank 2 Aberration since the opening of the Divine Ascent Realm."
"This feat has been recorded."
— System Rewards Issued —
• Global Reputation +100
• Divine Equipment Chest (Unranked) ×1
The moment the universal system finished its third toll, the Global Chat burst open like a dam breaking under divine pressure.
The announcement was still echoing across domains when the first frantic messages began flooding in:
[Radiant Blaze]:
What in the heavens is a Rank 2 Aberration?! Someone explain!
[Ashwalker]:
You're telling me someone killed an Aberration ALONE? That's not possible. Aren't those things god-killers?!
[Snowmist]:
Wait... what kind of sick joke is this? A RANK 2?! Bro, I saw a Rank 1 aberration and it almost wiped out a whole domain!
[Divine Scholar – Emeren]:
A Rank 2 Aberration is theorized to be a fog-born monstrosity that has consumed enough divine cores to reach higher sentience. They're corrupted remnants of fallen gods or evil entities. It's said only advanced gods can hope to fight one... This changes things.
[Silverbrand]:
That Verdant God again? Wasn't he the one who posted those skill insights earlier? How is he always ahead?!
[Lunaris]:
He's hiding something. No way a novice god pulls this off without a sponsor or artifact cheat. Someone's backing him.
[Frostleaf]:
Lunaris, cope harder. Guy's clearly just built different. Y'all still begging for meat while he's out here butchering aberrations.
[Vexor, Leader of Iron Vow Alliance]:
He's manipulating the system. Somehow. No god without help should have that kind of power. Don't believe the hype. If he truly did it, he'll show his domain soon. Let's see if he dares.
[Blazefang]:
Verdant God is on something else. I'm not praying to my sponsor anymore. I'm switching religions.
[Crimson Dove]:
He just made history. Whether you hate it or not, that's a name none of us will forget.
The chat ran wild. Ten thousand messages in under a minute. Speculation, envy, admiration — chaos threaded through every line.
Some younger gods, still in their protective novice states, didn't even understand the significance of what had happened. Others, more experienced, understood far too well — and that's what scared them.
Some began to search for traces of him. Others started plotting, measuring their gaps. Alliances discussed him behind closed curtains. Sponsors looked twice at their chosen champions.
But Clark, the Verdant God, remained unaware of the storm his feat had stirred.
Only the silent night, the scorched battlefield, and the soft thrum of the divine chest reminded him that something had indeed… changed.
Far from his territory, gods paused mid-conversation, mid-battle, even mid-prayer. The name Verdant God now burned itself into the fabric of their awareness. It echoed in every divine mind — not just as rumor now, but fact. A god who had killed a Rank 2 Aberration — alone.
Whispers began to spread like wildfire.
In secluded realms, sponsors raised brows.
In ancient thrones, monarchs shifted in curiosity.
In the skies above fog-covered territories, minor and mid-tier gods felt the weight of that announcement settle like a pressure in their bones.
Clark blinked once, the message scrolling across his vision. He hadn't expected it. And though his expression remained composed, even he couldn't deny the ripple of satisfaction behind his calm.
A quiet gasp came from the distance. Seraphiel and the others had heard it too. The crusaders' expressions shifted — from mere reverence, to awe laced with a new understanding.
Their god… had just shaken the entire Divine Ascent Realm.