O Golden God
1183 Words
The Inner Sanctum was cool, smelling of old incense and stale dust. It was a fortress within a fortress, sealed off from the screams of the city outside.
The Lord laid on a stone bench, his chest heaving. Loyalists fluttered around him like moths, bandaging his burns with cool salves and murmuring prayers.
As expected, he woke up to the spamming messages of the system
[Mission Complete: Unexplained Battle]
[Items have respawn in the market]
[Opening Mission Bonus: You lacked two skills while completing your first mission]
[Swordsmanship(Blade Mastery) and Unwavering Will; choose which to master]
“As expected” the Lord commented “Sub missions count as missions too, respawing market and giving skill bonus”
“Swordsmanship” the Lord chose without second thoughts.
In his weakened state, he has to prioritise skill over power. Moreover, he doesn't know what [Unwavering Will] does
[Skill Name: Swordsmanship: Blade Mastery]
[Rarity: Basic]
[Type: Active (Melee)]
[Prerequisite: Strength D-, Agility D-, Intuition D-
[Effect: Increases attack speed and precision].
The system didn't bring the cumulative level up option this time because the lord is already weakened.
“Points” The Lord’s eyes widened remembering the points he got from killing the Redeemers. He scrolled past all the kill messages and arrived at his ballance
71,000 points, 1717 Skill Points 1 Golden Skill Point 1 Golden Attribute Point
The Lord clicked the upgrade button immediately, upgrading three levels
[Swordsmanship (Basic to Advanced) 15000 points 25 Skill Points Yes/No]
[Skill Name: Swordsmanship: Blade Mastery]
[Rarity: Advanced]
[Type: Active (Melee)]
[Prerequisite: Strength D-, Agility D-, Intuition D-
[Effect: Increases attack speed and precision].
[Attributes: Rapid Edge (50% faster attack chain), Vital Strike (30% chance to bypass external defense based on precision)]
The two new added attributes made the Lord know he made the right choice.
The lord started hearing some whispers beside him and opened his eyes, it was the priest praying beside him.
The Lord sat up and looked down at the sword across his lap.
[Name: Blade of the Golden Vow (Replica)]
[Rarity: Exceptional (Cracked)]
[Status: Dormant]
[Remark: A ceremonial blade left by Sur to offer false hope. Contains a single charge of Divine Light.]
“A replica,” The Lord scoffed internally. “Sur left them a toy to play with.”
But to these people, it was the real thing.
The High Priest, whose name The Lord learned was Eamon, approached with trembling hands, offering a goblet of water.
“Oh, Holy One,” Eamon whispered, eyes wet with tears. “We… we had lost hope. We thought the statue was silent forever. But you… you broke it open and revealed the truth!”
“The statue was a prison,” The Lord lied smoothly, taking the goblet. “Sur’s will could not be contained in stone. It needed a vessel.”
He took a sip, his mind racing. He checked his System status.
[Current Debuff: Sur’s Law (Weakening)]
[Stats: Slowly recovering due to "Savior" status reducing hostile environmental pressure.]
The adoration of the crowd was actually pushing back against the hostile atmosphere of the city. Faith counteracts Law. Good to know.
“Priest Eamon,” The Lord said, his voice cutting through the murmurs. “The beast I slew. Where is the body?”
Eamon blinked, confused. “The… the abomination? It lies in the courtyard, My Lord. We were going to burn it.”
“Do not burn it,” The Lord commanded, standing up. His legs screamed in protest, but he ignored the pain. “Bring it here. Now.”
The room went silent.
“My Lord?” Eamon stammered. “It is… unclean. It is a creature of the Redeemed.”
“It is a puzzle,” The Lord corrected, his eyes cold. “That was no demon. It was a man. I need to know how they turned a man into fire. Go.”
The command was absolute. Eamon bowed hastily and shouted orders to the guards.
Minutes later, four struggling Loyalists dragged the charred, half-crumbled corpse of the "Devil" into the Sanctum. The smell of sulfur and cooked meat filled the room.
The Lord walked over to the body. The magma armor had hardened into ugly black rock, fused with the soldier’s flesh.
He knelt, drawing the Blade of the Golden Vow.
“Leave us,” The Lord ordered.
“But—”
“Leave.”
The Loyalists scrambled out, sealing the heavy oak doors.
Alone.
The Lord looked at the corpse. “System, Scan Target.”
[Scan Initiated...]
[Target: Magma Construct (Failed)]
[Composition: Human Flesh (40%), Volcanic Slag (50%), Runestone Implant (10%)]
[Analysis: The subject’s heart was replaced with a Runestone of Elemental Chaos. The host’s soul was burned away to fuel the transformation.]
“A Runestone replacement,” The Lord muttered. “Crude. Messy. Efficient.”
He raised the sword and, with a grim wet crunch, carved open the soldier’s chest.
There was no blood, only ash and steam.
Buried deep in the chest cavity, where the heart should have been, sat a pulsating, jagged stone. It was red, veined with angry orange light.
[Item Found: Heart of Chaos (Rank B)]
[Type: Artificial Organ / Core]
[Effect: Converts life force into elemental energy.]
The Lord reached in and ripped it out. The stone burned his hand, but he held it tight.
“Ingenuity,” he whispered, recalling the Judge-God’s criteria.
Sur and the other Sovereigns created life through pure Divinity—expensive, exhausting, and slow.
The Redeemed created weapons by grafting magic onto existing life.
“If I combine them…” The Lord’s eyes gleamed. “If I take the structure of a living being and implant a Divinity Core instead of a Chaos Core…”
He could create an Angel that didn’t require thousands of years of prayer to be born. He could mass-produce them.
He pocketed the Heart. So far, so good. He had the loot, the inspiration, and the "Savior" title to protect him while he recovered.
Suddenly, the candles flickered and died. The shadows stretched, twisting into unnatural shapes.
The Lord froze. The Debuff on his status screen flared red.
[Warning: Resonance Detected.]
[Sur’s Projection is manifesting.]
The stone floor of the Sanctum began to vibrate. Gold light, not the warm light of the blade, but a cold, heavy gold—started to bleed through the ceiling like liquid.
A voice, sounding like grinding tectonic plates, echoed in the room.
"WHO... DARES... BREAK... MY... IMAGE?"
The Lord stood up, gripping the Replica Blade. He was trapped in a room with a pissed-off God's voicemail.
He looked at the sealed door, then at the glowing gold forming a face on the ceiling.
He needed a way out, or a way to bluff the Golden God himself.
He looked at the [Blade of the Golden Vow]. It was Sur's own weapon or a copy
He raised it toward the ceiling.
“O the Golden God,” The Lord shouted in reverence, betting everything on arrogance. “Your name is shall praise forever”
- Writer
