The church walls groaned under the pressure of a force no mortal should ever witness.
It began with a sound like cracking glass. The stained windows—painted with false depictions of holy glory—shattered, raining down fragments that caught the flickering candlelight. The devoted followers of the God of Binding Chains scattered, their chants breaking into panicked screams.
Seth stood in the center of it all, one hand loosely holding the Red Moons at his sides, their crimson edges humming faintly with restrained bloodlust. Across from him, the so-called god, cloaked in ceremonial gold and silver, smiled as though this were nothing more than an amusing performance.
"Do you understand what you've done, mortal?" the deity said, voice echoing unnaturally through the wrecked sanctuary. "You've walked into my temple. My domain. My—"
"Your overpriced stone box?" Seth interrupted, smirking. "Looks like a rejected wedding venue."
A few of the devotees gasped, clutching their charms.
The lesser god laughed, but it was the hollow, condescending laugh of something that had never been challenged in its life. "The Godslayer has arrived! Followers, bind him, extinguish him!"
Chains of glowing light erupted from the marble floor, snapping toward Seth like vipers.
"Try if you can." His smile vanished into cold focus.
The next second, the entire church imploded.
Stone and timber exploded outward as Seth's aura flared, the shockwave tossing cultists into the streets. The god darted forward, moving so fast the air warped, striking with a blow that could shatter mountains. Seth blocked with a cross of his twin daggers, sparks of divine and godslayer energy exploding on impact.
The streets outside screamed with chaos. Pedestrians fled as the fight tore through the building, collapsing walls and splintering pews. The clash of steel and divine chains echoed through Shibuya.
Seth activated Calamity Incarnate.
The Red Moons thrummed, and a dark surge of chained divinity coiled around him.
The god's smirk twitched. "So you carry that kind of power…"
They collided again, shockwaves ripping through several blocks. Concrete fractured, glass exploded, and neon signs fizzled in bursts of sparks.
Seth pressed the assault, daggers flashing like twin comets, carving through chains as they regenerated. He was holding his own—but the truth was clear. The lesser deity was fast, cunning, and brutal.
This wasn't some overconfident angel or weak heir of divinity. This was a predator among mortals.
Seth's footwork slipped for a fraction of a second, and the god capitalized, driving a chain through his guard and sending him crashing through three concrete walls. Dust filled the air, and from within it, Seth's voice came calm, cold.
"You're enjoying yourself too much."
The god's reply was a cruel grin. "I'm not even trying."
Mid-fight, Seth noticed the scattered survivors—the cultists—still carrying faint threads of divine energy. Without hesitation, he unleashed Godslayer's Wrath and absorbed them in a single surge.
The divine energy was pitiful. It trickled into him like rain into an ocean. Only 50 Agility gained. His stat rose from 800 to 850.
"That's it?" His voice was edged with irritation.
The god burst into laughter. "Pathetic, isn't it? You scrape at crumbs while I hold the feast."
"You're just lucky."
That's when Seth activated everything.
Godslayer's Wrath.
Calamity Incarnate.
His aura exploded outward in a violent, chaotic storm, shaking the ground and darkening the sky above Tokyo.
The fight went from destructive to apocalyptic. Shibuya was being erased street by street, buildings crumbling, vehicles tossed into the air like toys. The ground cracked open, swallowing entire storefronts.
"You know," Seth said between strikes, "I actually hate keeping up with loser shit like this."
The god roared back, parrying with chains that were now jagged with molten gold. "You think you're something just because you've killed gods weaker than me? That the God of Resurrection mattered? That the Demon God mattered?"
Seth's gaze narrowed.
"They were nothing. Heirs. Shadows of true power. Even the so-called Demon God was nothing more than a placeholder. You've been fighting children of gods, not gods themselves. You've been played, mortal."
For a split second, Seth froze. Not from fear—from the realization.
All this time, the betrayals, the war, the slaughter—he had been manipulated. Used as a training experiment.
His jaw clenched. He wasn't shaking. He wasn't screaming. This was a silent rage, heavy and suffocating, a darkness that sank into his bones.
His pale golden eyes narrowed to slits, glowing against the shadowed half of his face. A faint crimson aura seeped off his skin, wrapping him like the breath of some ancient beast. The Red Moons pulsed in sync with his heartbeat.
He stepped forward, placing one boot on a chunk of shattered stone, his stance loose but exuding absolute dominance. The red moons being clenched tightly while hanging loosely.
The lesser deity's smirk faltered.
Then Seth was gone.
No blur, no warning—just vanished.
The god's head snapped around, searching.