When the sun neared the edge of the horizon, casting long shadows across the altar stones, Seraph woke up, feeling a bit lost. Feels like something is missing from his heart, but he doesn't know what it is.
He woke up, not because of this, nor he wanted to.
But because the cultists' prayers are piercing his mind.
The Cultists on the island numbered 37 people, all extraordinary. Every time they uttered the name "Winged Lord", Seraph felt a sharp tug inside his mind, as if something ancient and broken was trying to rise again.
Something that, definitely not his.
He opened his eyes slowly. The golden hue of dawn slipped across his vision like a blade. Everything felt too bright, too sharp. His body ached in places it shouldn't, and worse, it thrummed with power he still didn't understand.
He sat motionless on the stone throne, letting the cool twilight air wrap around his bloodied, and battered form. His body was larger now, taller and stronger, but it didn't feel like an upgrade. It felt like a shell he hadn't fully grown into.
Seraph kept himself calm, especially after experiencing something beyond what a normal human can handle.
He glanced down at the empty space where villagers once stood.
Gone. Dead. Sacrificed.
Their lives fed into his awakening like oil into a fire. The sea monsters too, slaughtered and bled dry, nothing left but silence and the faint metallic sting that clung to the altar.
The cultists indifferent eyes when they saw him, now filled with reverence and fanaticism.
They praise him, singing his name and title faithfully. But… that's not him… they are singing the praise for the wrong being.
Still he endured… Now is not the time.
He still doesn't know how strong he has become, he still hasn't adapted to his new body as a new Mythical being… but after he adapts, the second phase of the plan will start.
His gaze shifted to the twin and several girls standing at a respectful distance, watching him quietly.
He raised one hand, his voice low but firm.
"Witch. Come here."
The twins didn't dare to refuse, approached cautiously, clad in new robes embroidered with crimson feathers and black spirals, clearly ceremonial attire chosen by the cult. They walked with composed steps, but Seraph noticed the tension in their shoulders, the silent questions in their eyes.
Seraph's expression didn't shift, but in his mind, he re-opened the group chat.
[Seraph: "I'm fine, don't worry."]
[...]
[Kei: "You sure?"]
Seraph just nodded slightly. Watching the Witches coming closer, then without warning, Seraph lifted them with an unseen force. Both girls gave startled yelps as they floated briefly, then settled gently onto his lap.
Telekinesis, an advanced application of spiritual control.
Without assimilation of the Winged Lord memories, Seraph won't be able to do this even if he trained for a month. But after the assimilation, he slowly gained more control over his spiritual power. And to a small extent, his Mystic.
The other girls and cultists don't care about this small episode. They watched with silent approval, mistaking it for desire, believing their "Lord" had taken a liking to the girls they so willingly offered.
Feeling the warm flesh connecting to his body, Seraph asked them questions.
[Seraph: "Why are you two… naked underneath?"]
After a brief silence, Kei answered.
[Kei: "We are supposed to be a Devoted Lambs, an 'offering' to you…"]
Seraph blinked.
He wasn't sure what kind of answer he'd been expecting, but that wasn't it.
But at the same time, he felt comfort when their flesh connected. Like he was filling some sense of loss in his heart.
Then knowledgeable Kei explained a bit about Mythical creatures.
[Kei: "It said that Mythical creatures or beings are inherently lonely. Because after reaching the Mystical status, they broke free from the racial limit. They can't return to what they were. That's why… They crave connection, companionship or descendants."
[Kei: "So basically, their need for procreation is very high because of it. This is also why the cult offered you several girls, because you may need it after you wake up, or maybe sooner or later."
Seraph stared at the message for a moment, then replied simply:
[Seraph: "I see…"]
Mythical status mean broke the racial limit and created an entirely new race. And then, they were lonely, so let's create descendants to not be lonely?
A Myth was no longer man or beast, it was a race unto itself. And that kind of transformation came with a price.
He couldn't help but sigh internally.
'Is the feeling of being lost because of this?' Seraph thought, feeling the warm body of the twin.
If he truly procreated with them with this body, no matter how many girls the cult offered, they all would die in the first night.
To procreate he needed more control over his body, so he can back to at least normal size. Seraph knows he can do this, as the state he was in for now was his strongest state, meant for war and conquest. Not exactly a normal state like when the Winged Lord ordering his people around.
But for now, he doesn't feel much urgency to procreate and their presence alone helped ease that persistent ache.
[Rei: "Your blood smells amazing!"]
Seraph thought was disturbed by Rei's message and reading it made his eyes twitch. He already knows that Rei snuggled a little bit too close, but he thought that was because she needed some comfort after what happened, not expecting her to savor the smell of his blood.
Then Kei hurriedly explained in the chat.
[Kei: Sorry, Rei Path of Blood has the same trait as blood drinker. So strong blood has a huge attraction to her.]
William just answered alright to her and nodded with understanding. Suppressing a tired sigh.
'This world… this life… was getting stranger by the hour.'
…
Around half an hour later, night descended.
Seraph still embraced the twins, savoring the brief moment of peace, when suddenly, he felt a subtle yet unmistakable shift in the atmosphere.
A system notice flashed before his eyes.
[The Second Night Has Descended]
[Survive!]
[Night: 2 (Five More Night To Go)]
[Monsters: 53, Unique: 1]
The first thought after he sees the notices is…
'The System changed again.'
The normal monsters now are counted, not like before where there are no numbers, and given his own transformation, it was likely that these creatures had grown stronger too. This was within his expectations and formed the cornerstone of his second-phase plan.
'Or maybe, The System doesn't spawn the monster, but just merely summons them to player location. And this number means there is a limit to how many strong monsters can be summoned by the System?'
Well, Seraph can't care.
Right now, stronger monsters meant the cultists would struggle harder to survive. It also meant he'd have the perfect cover to eliminate them when the moment came.
Though his senses indicated he was far stronger than any cultist, he resisted the temptation to underestimate them. His body still felt foreign and unstable, and he preferred certainty over arrogance.
While his body feels better now, he still wants to observe how big the gap between the cultists and the monsters is. Maybe he can also kill several monsters to better adapt his new body. And The system could provide exactly that.
Perhaps sensing their Lord's unease, one of the nearby cultists stepped forward, bowing deeply as he spoke with assurance:
"Do not worry, my Lord. Though we still not fully understand why these creatures suddenly attack, they are weak despite their numbers. They cannot threaten you."
The other cultists around him nodded vigorously. Another zealously proclaimed, "With our Lord's awakening, dominating this sea will soon become reality! Then the entire Mystic Sea will know your greatness!"
He thrust his fist skyward, "Praise the Winged Lord!"
The chant quickly spread among the gathered followers.
"Praise the Winged Lord!" Their unified cry echoed five times, each chant louder than the last, brimming with fanaticism and devotion.
Seraph watched them impassively, showing no outward reaction, but internally he struggled against the intense pull triggered by their reverent words, each chant tugging harder at the foreign memories lingering within him.
Finally, choosing to lean into the moment, Seraph spoke, his voice commanding, powerful, filled with authority:
"Good! Then show me your bravery. Prove your faith and power before me. Do this, and I shall grant you a glimpse of why a Mythical being commands reverence from all creation!"
His words thundered at the end, startling several of the nearby 'Devoted Lamb' girls into frightened silence. But to the cultists, his voice was fuel poured onto an already raging fire.
"Yes, Lord!" They cried in perfect unison, eyes blazing with fanatic fervor. Without hesitation, they turned and raced toward the shores, eager to slaughter the monsters that had emerged from the darkness, ready to prove their worth to the being they worshiped.
…
However, it wasn't long before frantic cries echoed from the shoreline. Soon, the cultists retreated, their earlier zeal replaced by fear and uncertainty.
The Head Priest rushed back, robes torn and splattered with blood. He fell to his knees, bowing deeply in desperation.
"Lord, please forgive us!" He pleaded, "The monsters... they are stronger than we anticipated. We humbly beg for your intervention."
Seraph gazed down coldly at the trembling priest, contempt flickering in his eyes. After a moment of tense silence, he finally spoke, his voice dripping with disdain.
"Useless."
The Head Priest shuddered visibly, pressing his forehead even deeper into the ground, awaiting judgment.
Seraph's voice softened slightly, becoming a low, menacing command, "Gather every remaining cultist in one place. I will deal with this myself."
"Y-Yes, Lord! Immediately!" The Head Priest stammered, scrambling backward, eager to follow the order.
Seraph gently placed the twins down from his lap, sending them a quick mental message through the group chat.
[Seraph: "Stay hidden. I'll handle this."]
Both Witches nodded subtly, quickly stepping back into the shadows of the stone altar, their eyes filled with silent concern.
Seraph rose slowly from his throne, stretching his towering figure, feeling the power coursing through every muscle and sinew. He still wasn't fully used to this transformed body, but he saw this fight as the perfect chance to adapt.
Walking calmly toward the shoreline, he took a moment to observe the chaos unfolding before him. Under the pale moonlight, he clearly saw the monsters swarming the beach, creatures called "Murlocs," according to the system's identification.
They had distinct classes: [Murloc Warrior], [Murloc Shaman], [Murloc Fighter], and others he couldn't fully identify from this distance.
From what Seraph could tell, the cultists were still stronger individually but not by much. And the Murlocs' numbers, along with the relentless magical attacks and support from the shamans, overwhelmed them completely.
Taking a slow, calming breath, Seraph spread his massive wings, infusing them with spiritual power. Then with a powerful stroke, he shot into the sky like an arrow, the wind roaring past his ears.
Hovering momentarily above the battlefield, he focused his gaze on the clusters of Murloc Shamans lurking in the back. Gripping his spear tightly, he plummeted down like divine judgment itself.
The ground exploded on impact, instantly killing several shamans before they could even react.
Raising his spear, he shouted with authority:
"I'm Here!"
Immediately, Seraph felt a surge of strength flood his body. Every muscle became energized, his reflexes sharpened, and his spiritual senses expanded dramatically.
Without hesitation, he unleashed his newfound power, moving fluidly among the stunned creatures, dispatching them with ruthless efficiency. Every strike grew sharper, every movement became smoother, his body adapting to the mythical power within him.
The cultists watched in awe. Slowly, their fear receded, replaced once more by fervor. With a roar of renewed courage, they picked up their weapons and joined Seraph in the massacre.
Yet, just as their confidence returned, an earsplitting roar echoed across the battlefield.
A massive, terrifying presence emerged from the ocean's depths, charging onto the shore. In mere moments, it tore through several cultists and murlocs, leaving broken bodies scattered across the sand.
The unique monster had appeared.
The monster emerged fully into the moonlight, revealing its terrifying form clearly. It resembled something straight from a horror film, its elongated skull, sleek and sinister, reminiscent of an alien creature he'd seen once in the movie, back on Earth.
Its body was massive, like him, easily dwarfing any of the murlocs on the shore. Three thick, powerful tails swayed behind it, their membranous surfaces expanding and contracting rhythmically, perfect for swift movement underwater.
Several rows of crimson eyes gleamed ominously along the creature's skull, all locking onto Seraph at once, watching him with predatory interest, almost challenging him openly.
The system's identification flickered briefly:
[Galuga, Deep Hunter]
Two-lined class, an indicator of greater power, according to the information he'd received from Kei earlier.
As for the name, the first word, "Galu," mean "of the depths," something that lurked in the darkest reaches of the ocean. The second, "Luga," was the exact opposite, an inhabitant of shallow waters, a contradiction suggesting a creature capable of dominating both shallow and deep territories.
There was more information provided by the system, but Seraph had no time to read it.
Before he could consider further, the monster casually tossed something toward him using one of its tails. A severed head landed heavily, rolling to a stop at his feet, eyes wide open in a final look of terror.
Seraph stared down, feeling an unsettling familiarity with the face but unable to recall exactly who it was. Perhaps it didn't matter. It was just another cultist whose name he didn't know, whose life meant little to him.
He raised his eyes back to the Galuga Deep Hunter and slowly smiled. A challenge had been offered, and he intended to meet it head-on.
Without another word, he lifted his spear, directing its gleaming tip toward the monstrous creature in clear acceptance of its provocation.
In the next moment, both charged forward simultaneously, the sand beneath their feet erupting violently from the sheer force of their movement. Neither paid attention to the ongoing chaos of murlocs and cultists around them, focused entirely on the imminent collision.
Tonight, only one of them would emerge alive.
"Bang!"
The sound of steel clashing against claws echoed across the shore.
The Galuga Deep Hunter lunged first, its massive tail sweeping in a wide arc, aiming to smash Seraph from the side.
But Seraph was faster.
His wings flared with a burst of spiritual power, his body twisting midair in a sharp maneuver that narrowly avoided the deadly blow. The moment his feet touched the ground again, he countered, his spear thrust forward like lightning, aiming directly for the creature's head.
The Galuga responded instantly, stepping to the side with surprising agility. Its many eyes narrowed. This was not prey, it was a battle.
The two opponents retreated a few steps, sizing each other up, the air between them thick with tension.
Seraph narrowed his eyes.
'Its stats shouldn't be lower than mine…'
He lunged forward again without hesitation.
Claws clashed against spears. Wings beat against water-soaked air. Every blow shook the sand beneath them.
This time, Seraph could confirm it, Galuga's physical strength wasn't just comparable, it was dangerous. Even with spiritual energy reinforcing his muscles, he only held a slight edge. The difference was razor-thin.
And worse, the creature was no fool.
Each time Seraph pushed the advantage, Galuga would retreat, resetting the pace of battle. It would channel spiritual energy of its own, condensing water into sleek, deadly spears, then launch them at Seraph mid-clash to force him back.
It was an intelligent predator.
And yet… Seraph's grin widened.
His blood surged with excitement. With each clash, each violent exchange, his body felt more natural, more right. He could feel his control improving, the bond between body and spirit deepening. It was like the very act of fighting was helping him adapt to his new Mythical nature.
Then, in the middle of another retreat, Seraph suddenly soared upward, wings slicing through the air like blades.
The Galuga stopped and looked up warily.
From above, Seraph glared down, his voice like a divine decree echoing across the battlefield.
"Monster… You are but a weak creature, daring to challenge my throne."
Something shifted.
The pressure in the air thickened. The Galuga took a step back, then another. Its many eyes twitched in nervous unison. Its instincts screamed danger.
Seraph's aura flared. Golden light began gathering around him as if the heavens themselves were answering his will.
Now, he understood.
The power that had once eluded him, the Mystic stat, revealed its nature at last.
If spiritual power was fuel…
If the spirit stat was the quality of the engine…
Then Mystic… Mystic was the modification of the machine itself. The impossible upgrade. Like an overclocking machine. It was the cheat code embedded into the world itself, a force that allowed him to bend the rules.
And now… He was bending them.
Golden energy surged around him, crackling like liquid fire. It wasn't just spiritual power anymore, it was a fusion. Mystic-enhanced soul energy refined into destruction incarnate.
The Galuga froze, recognizing the threat but too late to retreat.
Seraph raised his spear, the golden light trailing along its edge like a blade of divine judgment.
Then,
"HAAAH!"
He slashed through the air.
A brilliant, crescent arc of radiant power exploded forward, a single stroke, yet it tore through the battlefield like a guillotine of heaven.
BOOM!
The Galuga Deep Hunter didn't even have time to roar.
Its body detonated on impact, the golden slash tearing through flesh and bone alike. Blood and gore rained across the sand. Shattered limbs and black ichor splashed into the waves.
A stunned silence fell.
Then, one by one, the cultists erupted into wild cheers, lifting their arms and shouting praise.
"All Hail the Winged Lord!!"
"The Lord has awakened!!"
But Seraph's golden eyes narrowed.
"Hmph."
A single sound of contempt.
The cheers withered instantly, fear returning like a cold wind through the crowd.
Without turning, Seraph spoke, his voice sharp and low.
"Gather the loot and everyone. Then go back."
The cultists bowed immediately, scrambling to obey.
Seraph's wings folded behind him. His spear hummed softly with the residue of power. His golden gaze swept over the battlefield, not with satisfaction, but with calculation.
'This body… Still has more to offer.'
And The fight had only just begun.