CHAPTER 138: TRIAL OF THE GODSLAYER

After taking blow after blow and realizing he was barely losing health, while at the same time watching his own attacks land harder than they ever had before, Ryan would have to be blind not to notice something was going on. He prided himself on being a veteran player, an "elite," as he liked to remind himself. Only a fool would miss the truth staring him in the face.

Godslayer.

The word struck him the moment the thought surfaced. Of course. The title he wore. The only thing that could make fighting a Divine being feel this easy.

He exhaled, the tension in his chest easing as a faint laugh escaped him. If Adanaya hadn’t appeared in that cinematic, cut scene state when she arrived, she would have spotted the title hovering over him instantly. And if she had noticed, he would already be dead. No question.

Now, though, there was hope. Maybe even a chance to finish this.

The Godslayer title had only been in his hands for a few days. Until now, he had thought the first effect was powerful enough, and it had served him well. But standing here before a god’s avatar, he suddenly understood how small that first effect was compared to the others.

—

Effect 2: You have gained Divine Slayer, increasing your damage against Divine beings by 50%.

Effect 3: You have earned the reputation of a Godslayer, reducing damage taken from Divine beings by 50%.

—

The fourth effect, though useless when he was alone, could turn an entire raid team into a killing machine. Everyone would hit harder, faster, with no need to hold back.

Ryan’s health bar remained steady, far more stable than it had been when he fought General Eldris, and after a while he even found himself... bored. The Elemental Deity’s avatar was oddly predictable, with fewer tricks than he had expected.

Out of habit, and with nothing better to do, Ryan began working out the avatar’s attack power in his head. That was when his eyes widened slightly. A single-target strike from this thing dealt 2000 flat damage to him. If any normal tank had been standing here, that same strike would have ripped more than 4000 health away in one swing.

And yet, despite the sheer size of its health pool—over 125,000—the avatar’s bar was shrinking fast beneath his relentless attacks. It wasn’t long before it dropped to 60 percent.

The second phase began.

This time, the avatar skipped any pretentious speeches or dramatic pauses. Unlike Eldris, it didn’t waste words. Instead, its form melted and reshaped, until what stood before Ryan was a being made entirely of flame. Its abilities shifted with it, clearly intended for a full group to face.

—

Scorching Hand: When Elemental Deity Adanaya’s avatar transforms into a fire elemental, each attack will trigger a Firestorm within a 25-yard radius, dealing 1000 fire damage to all enemies.

—

Ryan smirked. That might have devastated a raid group. Against him, it was little more than an inconvenience. Thanks to the Godslayer title’s reduction, the fire damage dropped to 500. Even when added to the chip damage of its regular strikes, the total was still under a thousand. His own basic attacks alone dealt more. With or without healing from Agu, he could handle it just fine.

The minutes ticked by. The avatar cycled through all four of its elemental forms again and again, fire to water, water to wind, wind to earth, and back around. But no matter how it shifted, it was the same story: group-focused abilities that landed softer than single-target ones, abilities that Ryan’s title and stats all but nullified.

Against Ryan, the so-called Elemental Deity looked helpless.

"Quest complete!"

Ryan’s confidence surged. He was so sure of victory that when the Elemental Deity’s avatar shifted into its third phase, the sudden change almost cost him everything.

"Damn it!" he spat, weaving desperately through the storm of glowing orbs that erupted around the arena. Red, blue, green, and yellow spheres spun out in every direction, hundreds of them, darting like fireflies on a frenzy. Their movements were erratic, unpredictable, and far more troublesome than he expected.

The avatar’s health had dipped below twenty thousand. Ryan had been certain the fight was over, certain he only needed a few more hits to finish it. Instead, the flaming form of the Deity shattered apart, exploding into a storm of orbs. They whirled around the battlefield, streaking with dangerous light.

Each one carried enough force to burn through 300 to 500 of his health on contact, and when struck, they pulled in other nearby orbs to join the assault.

The first few seconds nearly spelled disaster. Seven, maybe eight orbs collided with him before he got his bearings. His health plummeted, dipping under a thousand. One more mistake and he would have been done.

Clenching his jaw, Ryan steadied himself, eyes scanning the battlefield. Hundreds of orbs zipped in every direction, moving about as fast as he could. They seemed to drift aimlessly until, suddenly, one veered sharply and nearly clipped him. He dodged by instinct.

"Dodging forever won’t work," he muttered, staying on the move.

Thankfully, this was his domain. In PvP, he had risen to the rank of Paladin by sharpening his observation and reflexes. Against other players, reading attacks had become second nature. Compared to that, these orbs were manageable—at least, at first glance.

Minutes dragged on, and not a single orb vanished. He realized then that simple evasion wasn’t enough. The orbs weren’t meant to fade away.

Ryan’s lips curved into a wry smile. "So that’s how it is."

He shut his eyes for the briefest instant, focusing. Then, with a sharp breath, he activated his ultimate defense.

Divine Shield.

Invincible. Untouchable.

Golden light flared around him as he charged into the densest cluster of orbs. They collided, one after another, bursting against him in brilliant flashes. No damage registered. The explosions triggered more orbs to chain together, until he was a walking beacon of detonations.

With two seconds of invulnerability left, Ryan broke free from the swarm, sprinting clear of the blast zone. When the light finally faded, the arena was quieter. Most of the orbs were gone.

"As expected. They don’t respawn," Ryan murmured, satisfaction tugging at his lips. "Looks like I need to wipe them all out."

Roughly a hundred remained. Ryan changed tactics, skirting the arena’s edge, baiting isolated orbs into chasing him, then letting them detonate before more could gather. Slow, deliberate work.

Each time his health dipped, Nyman Shaman Agu patched him up, steady and reliable. Piece by piece, the chaos dwindled. The battlefield grew emptier, quieter, until the last lingering orb finally flickered out.

The Elemental Deity’s avatar reformed weakly, its body half-shattered, like a broken reflection of its former glory. It let out a long, weary sigh before collapsing into the void.

This time, the system prompt rang true.

Quest complete.