When the sun reached its highest point on the sky, Seraph, once known as William, was sprawled lazily atop a wide stone monument near the heart of the camp.
Using his spiritual power, he'd flattened the summit of the monument just enough to make a proper sunbed. There he lay, golden skin glowing faintly under the sunlight, wings tucked and relaxed, staring at the clouds above with a rare stillness.
For once, he wasn't fighting, enduring pain, or bathing in chaos. Just lying in silence. It was just a day ago, yet feels like ages for him.
It was strange, almost uncomfortable. This was the first time since his transmigration that he allowed himself to do absolutely nothing. And truthfully, he was a little bored.
The morning had already passed with new rituals: bathing, managing loot, chatting with other players through the system, even squeezing in some physical training. Nothing too intense. Just enough to keep the body and mind sharp.
The bath, however, was… memorable.
The Three Devoted Lambs, completely unashamed, had no hesitation in presenting their young, flawless bodies to him during the morning cleansing. It was their role, their offering, their devotion. And he, in turn, allowed it. Their presence no longer unsettled him. It grounded him.
The Witches had originally tried to use cleansing spells instead of joining the bath. But their magic had simply bounced off his skin.
Not because he resisted.
He didn't.
His body, now suffused with passive spiritual energy, was simply too much for their spells to penetrate. They were unranked after all. Their spiritual power lacked the force needed to bypass the natural defense his Mythical body now produced.
Kei, who had smugly claimed she could clean him in under a second, had turned beet red with embarrassment. Rei, of course, had just laughed and stepped into the water beside him without a hint of shame.
Eventually, the twin Witches had joined him, though Kei remained visibly shy, keeping her gaze averted.
It had been… pleasant. Had his body not been three times their size in this form, he might've indulged in the intimacy the moment invited. In truth, it took willpower to resist. But not because of lust alone, because of the connection growing between them. Between him… and all of them.
After the bath, they'd moved on to counting the loot.
And it was significant.
Among the many items scavenged from the cult's hidden storage was a ship. A real one. Far larger and sturdier than the fishing boat he'd started with, this vessel had been hidden behind thick brambles and coastal rock, clearly meant for escape or future conquest.
It had taken him over an hour for the system to recognize his new claim over it. But once it did, the status screen revealed something much more impressive than he'd anticipated:
[Ship: Unnamed]
Type: Extraordinary War Vessel
Level: 5 Uncommon War Ship
Durability: 4300 / 4500
Size: Mid-Tier Large (Capacity: 50+)
Speed: Moderate (Wind-Assisted)
Traits:
> Reinforced hull: Physical and Magical damage to the hull are reduced by 30%.
> Spirit-boosting sails: Using Spiritual Power in the air, the ship will gain 50% more Sailing speed for 10 minutes. Cooldown: 30 minutes.
> Built-in armory and sleeping quarters: The ship includes weapon storage and modest sleeping areas, allowing long-distance deployment and team management without needing land resupply.
> Minor sea-stabilizing enchantment: Calms minor waves and balances the ship during poor weather. Reduces sea-sickness among unranked or untrained passengers.
> War Flame: When Fighting against the enemies of faith, The cannon damage is boosted by 15%. Durability boosted by 10% and Sailing Speed by 7%. The believer on board will receive half of this effect, and triggered when allied with or commanding faction tied to belief or spiritual identity on the board.
Upgrade Needs (to Level 6):
Rare monster wood x4
Oceanheart crystal x2
Blessed Nail x1
1000 Spirit Points
300 Gold
And Craftsman Are Required.
…
The ship wasn't bad, but he still doesn't know how it would fare against a unique ship from the system.
The rest of the loot wasn't disappointing either. After sorting through everything dropped from the slain monsters and dead cultists, Seraph found himself with a substantial haul, one that confirmed just how much power and opportunity could be harvested from even a single night of chaos.
Among the most valuable were the class cards. Ten in total, all fully formed, proof that the enemies who carried them had reached the end of their class progression.
Three belonged to the Warrior path, two to Fighters, similar on the surface, but subtly different. Warriors focused on raw strength and endurance, while Fighters leaned toward speed and technique. But because they are no more than basic classes the difference is not that significant in the long run.
The rest are, one to Shaman class, and four… unsurprisingly, were marked as Cultists.
Then there were weapons, thirteen in total. Most were ordinary, barely more than sharpened metal, or an oversized toothpick to someone like him. Only two uncommon greatswords caught his attention, and even those felt light in his hand, like fragile tools rather than weapons. So he set most of them aside for others to use.
More interesting, however, were the materials. There were three liters of dark, viscous Galuga blood, thick and heavy with latent power. Its severed tails had also been collected.
He had seven common bloodstones pried from murloc corpses, seventeen still-beating cultist hearts, each one faintly pulsing with the last remnants of fanatic will, and a collection of upgrade materials: small sea stones, tainted sea creature bone, blood-soaked wood, and other rarities.
It was just barely enough to push his old fishing boat to Level 3, though he had no intention of doing that yet. He wasn't planning to leave the island anytime soon.
Kei, upon seeing the number of class drops, looked surprised. According to her, it was incredibly rare for monsters and people to drop class cards, after all, only those who had reached maximum progression in their class could leave such things behind.
That made the haul even more valuable. It was a shame the Galuga hadn't dropped anything like that. Seraph would've been especially interested in what kind of bonus or skills from class such a monster might possess.
Still, what he did have was enough to consider. He handed the Shaman card to Kei, whose Path of Knowledge made it a compatible option. She accepted it with a thoughtful nod. The four Cultist cards were quietly claimed by the Lambs.
Their eyes were reverent as they received them, though they didn't integrate them immediately, they were still bound by their current Villager class and the new Devoted Lamb Class, they also lacked the strength to change or add another one.
Rei, meanwhile, had examined the Fighter and Warrior cards with interest. She appreciated their martial nature, but in the end, she dismissed them.
"Too basic," Rei had said with a shrug, her voice dismissive, "Common-grade stuff. You can buy these in any middle-sea port for ten gold shells."
In the end she only took three bloodstones to train her ability.
And She wasn't wrong.
Classes like Warrior and Fighter were abundant cheap, and lacked the unique synchronization required for someone like her, whose path followed an advanced bloodline. For people aiming higher, toward personal domains, bloodline awakenings, or mystical ascension, these basic paths were little more than stepping stones.
Necessary, perhaps. But ultimately disposable.
The Shaman class, on the other hand, stood at the upper edge of the common grade. It was rarer, and more importantly, versatile. Without hesitation, Kei had claimed and integrated it, letting the system sync it to her budding path of Knowledge.
Seraph found himself agreeing with their assessment. Integrating a basic class without long-term planning was a trap.
Once a class was bonded, replacing it with a rarer or superior variant became a complex ordeal. To evolve the class later, you'd first need to reach full progression, and even then, much of that effort would be lost when switching to a higher-rarity path. At worst, you'd hit a dead end.
There was also the issue of capacity.
The twins explained, every individual had a limit to how many Class Cards they could bear. Those with strong lineages or awakened blood, like Witches and royalties, could integrate at maximum five or the minimum three at a time. But commoners like the Lambs? Most could barely hold two or three.
And worse, many of them were born with a locked-in, natural class like Villager or Commoner. These lower classes were difficult to progress and rarely offered meaningful paths forward. People stuck with them often remained powerless for life, trapped in the same social strata until death.
Changing that kind of class required either max progression or external intervention, through rare items, rituals, or the grace of something greater. Most never had the chance.
As for himself, Seraph had no idea where his limit lay.
The twins could only speculate. As a Mythical Being, he was clearly a higher life form now. His potential cap was likely far beyond five classes. But that didn't mean he could afford to be careless. Class progression was still a matter of focus and investment. One wrong path, and he could end up wasting time and growth potential.
So for now, he left the remaining cards untouched, and kept his path open.
It's unfortunate that the monster didn't drop any survival kit, fortunately he doesn't need it for now. But nobody knows when he will need it.
Later, he handed the better weapons he couldn't use to the girls. For the Witches, it was a precaution. For the Lambs, it was a necessity. They were still fragile, still forming, but danger would come again. Sooner or later, they would need to defend themselves.
And after a moment's thought, he opened the system interface and quietly added the three Lambs to his group chat.
Their eyes flickered when the link was made, one startled, one confused, the third simply wide-eyed with wonder. The moment it connected, Seraph felt their presence brush gently against his mind.
The spiritual cost of keeping them linked wasn't much, not for someone who had crossed into the realm of Myth. He could keep the connection active at all times now without strain.
It was just a precaution… But it felt more like a promise.
From now on, he would protect them, at least as long as they stayed loyal.
And somehow, he sensed they would. Not out of obligation.
But because, in their hearts, they had already begun to believe.
Then, If you asked where the girls were now, the answer was simple: looting their own village.
Or rather, what used to be their village.
After everything they'd endured, the rituals, the fear, the transformation, they were ready to move on. Ready to go anywhere he wished. Seraph wasn't just their protector anymore. He had become something more. Like their anchor or their sanctuary.
Even their home.
So when he told them to gather anything valuable, they didn't question it. They moved without hesitation, scouring the remains of their childhood homes, collecting tools, and anything salvageable for the days to come.
He had also instructed them to look for food, anything edible they could cook or preserve. It had been barely an hour since then, and by now they were likely moving from house to house, pillaging what little remained in the ghostly silence of a forgotten village.
And Seraph?
Seraph was enjoying something far rarer.
A peaceful day.
He had woken up without the headache-inducing chants of the cultists echoing in his mind. For the first time since arriving in this world, there were no looming battles, no urgent decisions, no pressing danger. Just sun, silence, and the slow rhythm of the ocean in the distance.
His body felt better now. Lighter and more attuned.
Whatever weight had come with his transformation into something Mythical had begun to settle. His strength no longer surged out of control, and the constant hum of pressure behind his skin had calmed.
It wasn't just physical.
No, it was the result of something deeper, of anchoring himself to others. Of having Devoted Lambs whose connection to him helped bear the burden of godhood. That stabilizing bond, as shallow as it still was, had already begun to ground him. Even more than the Witches did.
Funny. He had bathed with the Witches earlier, their bodies pressed close in the steaming pool, Kei blushing furiously while Rei simply floated beside him like it was nothing. It had been pleasant, sure. Amusing, even.
But it hadn't brought him the same clarity he now felt, basking beneath the sun, alone.
It was strange how, after all the violence, all the madness, this quiet moment could feel so earned.
So… right.
He shifted slightly on the sun-warmed stone, exhaling slow and deep.
There was still much to do.
But for now…
Let the world wait.
…
The stone beneath him radiated warmth, the sea breeze gentle as it drifted through the remains of the island. Seraph kept his eyes half-lidded, letting his breathing sync with the ebb and flow of the waves. Above him, clouds floated lazily across the sky, untouched by war or gods.
It was peaceful.
Too peaceful, perhaps.
A faint ding sounded in his mind, subtle, more sensation than sound.
The World Chat had come alive again.
With a thought, Seraph opened the feed, curious to see what chaos the others had managed to stir while he basked in the sun.
[World Chat]
[CookinFish_99]: WHO THE HELL SPAWNED A WHIRLPOOL IN THE SHALLOW COAST?! MY BOAT'S GONE!!
[TrashMage]: Bruh you parked on cursed coral, it glows red for a reason(Skull.jpg)
[ZealotMackerel]: The Lord is silent today… It must be a test. I shall meditate until His word returns.
[BoatyMcBoatface]: Still don't know who you're talking about bro.
[ZealotMackerel]: The one who walks with wings. The Seraph. The one who blessed us with knowledge.
[TrashMage]: Ohhh you mean that guy who dropped the system explanation during night 1?
[CookinFish_99]: Yeah, he's the reason I figured out how to use my class card. Saved my ass.
[Seraph]: You're welcome.
There was a moment of pause. Then the replies flooded in.
[TrashMage]: YOOOOO the god-king's awake
[CookinFish_99]: Not even gonna lie, I was kinda worried you died. Respect for not pulling a rage quit.
[ZealotMackerel]: His light returns. ALL HAIL THE SKYBORNE ASCENDANT!!
[SaltyNavigator]: Can we not? I'm just here trying to figure out how to cook murloc meat without hallucinating.
[TrashMage]: oh yeah I saw a fish with legs and it whispered my dad's name.(Spooked face.jpg)
[MurlocSlapper]: Bro, if the meat glows, don't eat it. Learned that the hard way. Still seeing colors.
[Seraph]: Tip: don't cook the eyes, or the liver. Throw that into the sea. Or you can try to sell them for some scrap to an alchemist.
[SaltyNavigator]: Noted. Bless you.
[FlintLockJenny]: Anyone else's compass spinning non-stop since dawn?
[ShadowOnSea]: Any idea what the system wants for night 3? My "survive" quests are ramping up.
[Seraph]: If the system's quiet, it means it's thinking. And that's never good.
[BoatyMcBoatface]: Can't argue with that (Dead face.jpg)
[TrashMage]: We live in fear. But also, mild curiosity.
He let the chat scroll on without him for a while, chuckling softly to himself. The absurdity of it all was refreshing. In a world slowly descending into madness, at least the players still had humor.
So many players, and strangers brought here from Earth, were trying to find their place in a world that didn't care about fairness or balance. Some floundered, some survived. And a few, like him… adapted.
Just then, he heard soft footsteps in the distance.
The girls were returning.
He closed the chat window with a casual thought, the golden light fading from the corner of his vision. Sitting upright on the stone, he stretched lazily, rolling his shoulders. His wings flared briefly before settling once more.
A moment later, Kei appeared from behind the broken archway, her arms full of cloth bundles and salvaged tools. Rei followed close behind, dragging a crate of dried fish. The Lambs were further back, carrying baskets of grain and herbs.
"Looting complete," Kei announced dryly, brushing her hair from her face, "The village's economy is officially dead."
"Not like they were using it anymore," Rei added.
Seraph smiled slightly.
And just like that, the peace shifted again, into something quieter, more human.
"Welcome back," Seraph said, rising to meet them.
…
The warm sunlight of late afternoon filtered through the broken rooftops and swaying leaves, casting golden patches over the quiet village ruins. The sea breeze was gentle, carrying the scent of salt and firewood.
By now, the girls had returned, arms filled with salvaged ingredients, worn kitchen tools, and whatever food they could scavenge from what remained of their old homes.
Five girls, each a reflection of a different path. Two Witches. Three Devoted Lambs. All of them trying to pretend things were normal… even if the world around them had changed forever.
"Today," Seraph said from his crouched position beside what used to be a village kitchen, "We're making fish soup."
The girls stared up at him.
Or more precisely, up at his towering, three-meter Mythical form that looked far too large for any normal task, especially one as delicate as cooking.
His voice had the firm tone of a warlord delivering an edict, but the content was more domestic than divine.
The twins stood to one side. Kei had a skeptical look, as if trying to recall cooking techniques from a book she'd only half-read. Rei, in typical fashion, was already poking one of the fish with the tip of a dagger.
The Lambs, on the other hand, were wide-eyed with energy. Eager to help, eager to please him. Nervous, but also determined.
"First," Seraph instructed, "Gut the fish."
One of the Lambs blinked, "Gut it?"
"Yes. Remove what's inside."
Another tilted her head, "Which part is inside?"
Kei opened her mouth, paused, then quietly stepped back as Rei sighed and hoisted the fish by its tail.
"The stinky part," Rei muttered, "You'll know it when you find it."
What followed was a chaotic display of overconfidence and under preparedness.
One girl dropped the fish three times. Another flung a fish gut onto Kei's robe by accident. The smallest Lamb, trembling with determination, ended up presenting a horribly butchered fish with shining eyes full of pride.
Seraph stared at it.
"…It'll do."
He would like to done it himself, but every tool they had was tiny in his hands. The knives were like toothpicks. The pots are barely large enough for his palm. So instead, he oversaw the process like a divine kitchen guardian, gently guiding them step by step.
"Boil the water. No, not all of it- just enough to cover the fish."
"Oh… oops."
"It's fine. Just don't boil the whole ocean."
Seasoning came next. Too much salt. Not enough herbs. Kei contributed a glowing leaf she insisted was edible. Then the soup hissed.
"It's changing color," Whispered one Lamb.
"That's probably normal," said Rei, as a witch apprentice she is already used to seeing something far more strange.
When it was done, it looked… questionable. Smelled sharp. And bubbling unevenly.
But it was hot and edible(after Seraph tasted it), and for the five of them, that was enough.
They sat on a flat rock, makeshift bowls in hand, eating together in the golden afternoon. The soup was strange, underwhelming, but it was food, and for once, no one was fighting, bleeding, or afraid.
The girls ate gratefully, slurping with tired smiles. Even Kei, wrinkling her nose at the flavor, finished every drop. The Lambs giggled among themselves. Rei then scooped seconds.
Seraph sat nearby, watching them with faint amusement. He only took a small portion for himself.
Not because he needed it.
His body, changed by the Mythic transformation, no longer required ordinary food. His energy came from something deeper. Purer. But he ate anyway, not for hunger, but for the quiet normalcy it gave.
When the bowls were empty and the girls wandered back toward the stone altar, stretching and chatting softly, Seraph remained seated by the dying fire.
Then he rose.
The sun was still high, but the light had shifted, warmer and softer now.
He stepped into the open space of the ruined village and knelt slowly.
His training began.
Golden threads of spiritual energy coiled around his frame like sunlit mist as he focused. Breathing in. Breathing out.
Bending the power inside him.
The day was not over.
And the system had yet to speak.
But it would.
And when it did, he would be ready.