CHAPTER 357: CHAPTER 346:FEAR = FAITH

The battlefield had gone quiet.

Ash drifted through the air like the snow of dead angels. The rivers of molten shadow still pulsed, but their rage had dimmed.

The citadel of Dagon was no more — nothing remained but the echo of his absence and the trembling silence of Hell itself.

Atlas stood alone at the balcony’s edge, his arm still smoldering where the erasure light had burned through flesh and faith alike.

Below him, the Fallen angels were cheering — or at least, they tried to. But their voices carried unease. Even the victorious looked afraid to speak too loudly, as though the very act of praising him might invite some cosmic consequence.

Then his vision flickered.

Lines of light — the familiar system text — began to scroll across the void before his eyes.

- [Faith System — Divine Synapse Activated]

Theme: The White Covenant

"Faith is the currency of belief. Belief shapes the divine. And divinity, unchecked, consumes itself."

At first the glow was pure white — serene, sacred, the hue of his ascension. But as he blinked, the brightness fractured into gray static, like cracks forming on a marble idol.

Then came the numbers.

[Faith Points: -207 → +342 → +502 → -85...]

[Source: Global Reverence Matrix — Error Detected]

[Reason: FEAR has overtaken FAITH]

Atlas stared, his expression unreadable. The points had gone negative — impossible, unless the faith that once sustained him had turned into dread.

The system pulsed again.

[Public Sentiment: 73% Faith — 24% Awe — 3% Fear]

He inhaled sharply, the taste of sulfur and betrayal thick on his tongue.

"Fear..." he murmured. "So they saw it."

Somewhere, beyond the layers, the watchers of the abyss — the surviving demons, the scattered Fallen, even the angels that hid behind celestial veils — had witnessed what he’d done to Dagon.

Not a death, but a deletion. And gods, even fallen ones, feared that kind of power.

He remembered the brief surge of faith during his rampage — when the Fallen had first called his name, Prophet of Light.

The warmth of it had fueled him, lifted him beyond pain. But the more he struck, the more that faith curdled into trembling silence.

They did not pray to him anymore. They simply avoided his gaze.

Atlas straightened, wincing as his veins pulsed with backlash. The white interface hovered before him, faintly humming with choir-like whispers.

He extended a hand. The system obeyed.

[Faith Ledger Overview]

Total Faith Accumulated: 243,811

Faith Type Distribution:

Demonic Belief (Abyssal Variant) — 61%

Fallen Devotion (Reclaimed Light)— 38%

Residual Angelic Reverence— 1%

Conversion Status: LOCKED

Unlock Requirement: "Pure Alignment — Undefined"

He frowned.

"Locked...?"

Even after everything — after the battles, the deaths, the hymns — he could not use a single point. Every attempt to channel it during the heavenly rampage had failed.

Back then, he had thought it was system delay. Now he understood — it wasn’t delay. It was rejection. His own divinity was confused. It didn’t know whether he was a god or an abomination, something was still lacking.....but what? What was he still lacking?!

The interface shifted again, pulsing brighter — almost alive. Then a small green glow appeared in the corner.

[Seed-born Successful]

[Seed Transfused Host: CAT-PRIME]

[Host Location: 2nd Layer — 4th Realm]

[Host Action Log:]

→ Cat has entered Hell

→ Cat has swallowed a Demigod

→ Evolution Option Unlocked

→ Cat has swallowed another Demigod

→ Additional Evolution Paths Available

Atlas blinked.

"The cat...? What the hell..."

For the first time in hours, he actually laughed — not cruelly, not with pride, but with genuine disbelief. His voice echoed through the broken halls like a ghost of his old self.

"My seed... ate two demigods?"

He was still processing it when the air behind him shimmered — a distortion of shadow and smoke. The figure that emerged was tall, hooded, its cloak darker than even Hell’s lightless flame.

The Elder.

Atlas flinched — not out of fear, but from surprise. The old one had the quiet of a grave and the scent of ancient parchment. His voice, when it came, was sand and silk.

"You have done it," the Elder said. "The Abyss bows to you. The Third Realm will be yours soon. But the Fourth..." He paused. "The Fourth waits."

Atlas studied him, jaw tight. "You went there?"

The Elder nodded once. "I walked its border. Aurora’s influence lingers. The Elders have spoken."

"And?"

"Divided."

The word dropped like a blade.

"Some have burned your Book of Acclaim," the Elder said. "They call you ’The False Guide. Others chant your name in the catacombs, calling you ’Guide of the End.’ The Fourth Layer will welcome you... but not all of them."

Atlas turned away, gazing at the horizon of ruin — where rivers of black glass stretched into nothingness. His white aura flickered against the void like a dying candle.

"I expected as much," he said quietly. "Faith always fractures. Even gods can’t control it."

The Elder tilted his head. "Then why still seek it?"

Atlas’s eyes hardened. "Because I need it. Every belief, every prayer, every whisper of my name — it’s a piece of the key."

"The key?"

He looked up — through the ashen clouds, through the burnt layers of Hell — as though his sight pierced the firmament itself.

’The one Odin wanted,’ Atlas said. ’The Key of Realms. If I find it... he promised me Amrit — the nectar of life.’

His voice lowered, a rare softness threading through the storm.

"And with it... I’ll heal Loki."

The Elder’s expression did not change, but his silence deepened — the silence of one who knows too much.

"You would defy the order of creation itself for one soul?" he asked.

Atlas smiled faintly. "Creation’s already broken. ...Hell is dreaming, the dreaming shunned with leviathans...the heaven, cannot be called heaven anymore....I’m just fixing it my way."

He turned from the Elder, the white glow of his system washing across his armor like liquid light. The Faith Counter still pulsed — negative, bleeding faith by the second — yet his resolve did not waver.

"Prepare the path to the Fourth Layer," he said.

"As you command, Prophet," the Elder murmured.

But as the old one faded into shadow once more, the interface flickered one last time.

[Warning: Faith Integrity Below low]

[New Emotion Detected: REVERENT FEAR]

[New Title Unlocked: The God That Terrifies Gods]

Atlas exhaled slowly, watching the words burn themselves into the screen — a prophecy written in reverse.

And as the third layer of Hell went silent behind him, he whispered to no one,

"So be it. Let fear be my faith."