Galsis lifted its head, sunlight stabbing straight into its eyes. Pity—it no longer understood the concept of "sight." Its ghostly blue irises merely sensed a light source overhead, perceiving no color at all. It greedily opened its mouth, gulping down fresh air in great, heaving breaths.
**ROAR!!!**
Its body felt leaden, its wrists barely able to lift. Once a vessel brimming with boundless strength, it was now nothing but a skeletal frame. The magma coating its form wasn’t by choice—if it didn’t cling to this molten shell, it couldn’t even maintain this semblance of a body.
Only its will had been reawakened. The flesh it once relied on had long since rotted away, devoured by greed across endless ages. Nothing remained. Yet it was still *itself*—the invincible "Deity" who walked upon the earth.
It was Galsis.
How could mere ants dare to defy a Deity?
"No use… absolutely no use." Raven watched Galsis in the distance, sighing quietly. Beside him stood Illusion and Nightingale. The frontlines were handled by the Execution Division; they weren’t needed up ahead. Besides, aside from Raven, neither Illusion nor Nightingale were suited for this kind of battle—which was why they lingered farther back.
But right now, joining the fray would change nothing. Raven had tested it earlier: the feathers he’d thrown vanished without a trace upon striking Galsis’s molten surface, making no sound. Even the slight dents they’d made were instantly swallowed by fresh magma.
He didn’t understand where Galsis’s endless magma came from. It had poured relentlessly from its body since its appearance. Galsis didn’t even need to attack deliberately—the molten droplets sloughing off it were enough to erase street after street.
At this rate, killing Galsis would mean nothing. The Deity hadn’t even begun to move in earnest, yet over one-twentieth of Fated City was already rubble. Once that reached one-fifth, the city would be functionally dead. Lingkong would rather see the Heavenly Mandate Building razed than watch Galsis appear anywhere else.
"What now?" Illusion asked, lips pressed tight.
"Just wait. All we can hope is that concentrated attacks will eventually wound a 'Deity'." Raven shook his head.
"And if they don’t?" Illusion pressed.
Raven looked away. "If there were another way, we wouldn’t be standing here."
Illusion’s jaw clenched, his young face twisting with frustration. Neither Raven nor the silent Nightingale commented. From their vantage point, the frontline was clear—and that clarity bred silence, even despair. The commanders were right to focus all Chosen Ones’ attacks on a single point, trying to pierce Galsis’s molten armor.
In battles of this scale, Chosen Ones below Danger-class were useless. The magma’s heat alone forced close-combat fighters to retreat. Only ranged attacks could even graze Galsis.
But it wasn’t enough. Galsis’s molten layer flowed like liquid. Cracks sealed the instant they formed. Their strikes couldn’t even breach the magma, let alone harm the Deity beneath.
"To a god towering above us," Raven murmured, "we’re less than ants…"
Had humans never slain a "Deity" simply because they were too insignificant to even scratch one? That hopeless gap couldn’t be bridged by any means. Before such a calamity, survival itself became a luxury.
"It’s moving." Nightingale’s voice cut through the silence.
As if on cue, Galsis—previously statue-still—lowered its head toward the Chosen Ones. Its black maw glowed faintly, then blazed into searing orange. A colossal beam of light lanced down, sweeping across the earth.
The blinding radiance drowned out the magma’s glow. All that remained visible was the beam carving a path of annihilation. Everything in its wake vanished from existence. The air scorched lungs; dust choked the sky.
In an instant, entire districts evaporated beneath the beam—along with Chosen Ones too slow to flee. When the light faded, only a perfectly cylindrical trench remained, cleaving the earth like a god’s chisel.
"So this… is a god?" Illusion’s mouth hung open, words failing him. Before such absolute power, language lost all meaning.
Raven’s hand tightened on his mask. He knew—if *they* trembled watching from afar, how much worse must it be for those facing the beam head-on? Morale was shattered. How many would even dare attack Galsis now?
That brush with Death could break a Chosen One’s spirit. Not everyone had the courage to stare oblivion in the face. Such hellish scenes would haunt survivors for lifetimes.
Nightingale watched, unmoved. She pulled out her tablet, scanned a message, then glanced back toward their path. Counting silently, she swiped the screen the moment a figure appeared. "They’re here."
"Give her the tablet." Lingkong’s voice carried exhaustion.
"Understood. I’ll fly it over." Nightingale nodded, leaping skyward toward the distant silhouette.
Raven frowned at the speck in the sky. *Only one person could be flying this late but not yet at the battlefield… Bai Ya.* He hadn’t wanted her coming. After that beam attack, he couldn’t guarantee she’d dodge the next. Frankly, Lingkong would sooner see the whole city fall than lose Bai Ya. To the Organization, she was far more than a researcher.
Without her, their research would lose all direction—a slow death for the Organization. Unless another genius like Bai Ya emerged to lead the department… but such talent didn’t exist within their ranks.
*I hope the Director knows what he’s doing.* Raven sighed, clapping Illusion’s shoulder. "Let’s go. Staying here’s suicide."
