No wonder his instincts had screamed at him when the idea for the Bloodline Ascension Technique first took root.
It had felt important. More than important. Somehow connected to something far beyond his ambitions as a deity, reaching all the way back to the life he’d lived on another Earth.
That connection had been real all along.
It was this pearl.
The very thing that had crossed trillions of light-years to bring him here.
By feeding on the enormous surge of life energy released when the Hobgoblins collapsed during their failed evolution, the pearl had finally awakened.
Fully.
Understanding struck him all at once.
So did the fury.
"So it was you."
Caelum’s voice came out low and unsteady.
"You’re the reason it failed. You’re the reason my domain collapsed."
The veins along his temple stood out beneath his skin.
"Damn you."
He meant every word.
If the evolution had succeeded, if his Hobgoblins had become Orcs, he would have become the first freshman in Academy history to command a high-grade retinue.
Every major faction would have fought to recruit him. Resources would have poured into his hands. His rise would have been immediate, almost unstoppable.
The path to becoming a True God would have been laid out in front of him.
And this pearl had taken it all away.
"You have any idea what you did to me?"
He was still shouting when the anger began to lose its edge.
Something about the pearl was making itself known.
A texture.
A purpose.
Caelum’s words slowed, then stopped altogether.
He stared down at the object in his hand.
The energy pulsing inside it felt strangely familiar. It was almost identical to the surge of creative, life-shaping power that had appeared during the Hobgoblins’ failed evolution.
As if the pearl itself contained the raw material from which bloodlines were created.
His thoughts immediately returned to the Bloodline Ascension Technique.
A forbidden art. Catastrophically dangerous. Even under ideal conditions, failure was common.
But what if he channeled the pearl’s energy through it?
The risk might disappear.
Perhaps entirely.
Which meant that, in theory, he could evolve any race he wanted.
Carp into True Dragons.
Foxes into their ancient Nine-Tailed Celestial Fox bloodline.
Anything.
The possibilities were no longer theoretical. They were simply waiting for enough energy and the right intention.
Caelum slowly lowered his gaze to the pearl.
"You..."
His expression changed.
"...did beautifully."
The anger vanished as quickly as it had appeared.
In its place came something dangerously close to excitement.
This pearl had opened a door to possibilities he hadn’t even dared imagine an hour ago.
A high-grade retinue in his first year was no longer a distant ambition.
It was inevitable.
He would claim his place among Earth’s True Gods.
Perhaps he would climb even higher.
Caelum turned the pearl over in his palm, studying the faint blue light moving beneath its surface.
"From this moment onward, I’ll call you the Creation Pearl."
He paused.
"And the energy inside you..."
His lips curved into a smile.
"...the Power of Creation."
The names settled naturally, as though they had been waiting for him to give them shape.
But before he could indulge in thoughts of godhood, reality returned to remind him of the much more immediate problem.
"My retinue is extinct. My domain is collapsing. The Creation Pearl has only slowed the process. It hasn’t stopped it."
He pressed a hand against his forehead.
"If I don’t solve this before the semester ends, I’m expelled. No appeals. No exceptions."
The problem went deeper than that.
A domain in the middle of collapse couldn’t sustain new life. Not even the weakest Goblin. Not even a single Murloc.
Without a retinue, there was no faith.
Without faith, his Divine Power had no source.
And without Divine Power, he couldn’t protect what remained of his domain.
A perfect deadlock.
No way in.
No way out.
Caelum rubbed his jaw, thinking.
Giving up had never been part of his vocabulary.
If it had been, he would have abandoned the Bloodline Ascension Technique the moment the first obstacle appeared instead of forcing his way through every failure until he’d found a solution.
Ideas surfaced.
He discarded them.
Another appeared.
Discarded.
He kept turning the problem over from every possible angle until his gaze drifted upward.
The twin lights hung uneasily in the fractured sky above him.
Then something clicked.
"The Sanctuary."
His eyes widened slightly.
"Of course."
A grin slowly spread across his face.
"The Sanctuary."
The Sanctuary was the innermost heart of any divine domain.
It was where a god’s fallen believers were laid to rest and the final refuge available to a deity when everything else had been destroyed.
Once the Sanctuary fell, there was nowhere left to hide.
The deity would have to face their enemies with their true body.
And if that body died a second time, there would be no resurrection.
True death.
Permanent.
Absolute.
Because of that, the Sanctuary was designed to outlast everything else.
It was usually the last part of a divine domain to collapse, remaining intact long after mountains had crumbled and rivers had dried.
"It’s small."
Caelum began pacing across the fractured ground.
"Five hundred meters by five hundred. A quarter square kilometer at most."
He glanced around the ruined realm.
"On its own, it could barely support a Low-grade race. And not a particularly strong one."
He paused.
"The population would be pathetic."
But pathetic wasn’t the same as nothing.
"Once I have a retinue, faith will start flowing again. My Divine Power will stop bleeding away and begin recovering."
His thoughts accelerated.
"I can use that power to burn away the corruption eating through the domain. And while the Creation Pearl keeps slowing the collapse..."
He stopped.
For the first time in hours, something steady settled in his chest.
"There is a path."
His smile widened.
"If I can hold the line long enough, there really is a path."
He looked toward the ruined horizon.
"Finish this before the semester ends, and I don’t just avoid expulsion."
His voice regained its old confidence.
"I’ll climb higher than I would have otherwise."
’When you know dawn is coming, the dark stops being frightening.’
’It becomes something you simply have to walk through.’
Energized, Caelum immediately got to work.
He began relocating land, seedlings, and water sources into the Sanctuary, carefully establishing the foundations of a livable environment before he even had a retinue to inhabit it.
Once the foundation was ready, he could focus on acquiring new followers.
He was in the middle of dragging a section of packed earth into position when he felt a familiar tug at the edge of his awareness.
Someone had entered his room.
In the real world.
Caelum let his consciousness withdraw.
The divine realm faded around him, replaced by the comparatively mundane interior of his dormitory.
A modest courtyard occupied roughly forty or fifty square meters, centered around a small spring and surrounded by ornamental rockery. Jagged stones had been arranged around the edges, while a cluster of green bamboo grew quietly in one corner.
Beyond the courtyard stood the private villa.
Inside were a spacious living room, a bathroom equipped with technology most of Earth wouldn’t see for another decade, and a bedroom designed more for comfort than practicality.
A cleaning robot moved methodically across the floor, entirely indifferent to the tension entering the room.
This was standard Academy housing.
Every student who made it into the Academy of Gods received accommodations like these. Considering fewer than one in ten thousand people ever awakened as deities, and the Academy admitted only around a thousand students each year, the institution had every reason to treat its students well.
Reputation mattered.
The door clicked open.
Caelum’s attention shifted toward it.
A woman entered first.
She had sharp features, an expensive outfit tailored with almost surgical precision, and the composed bearing of someone accustomed to having others defer to her.
Two broad-shouldered men followed a step behind.
Bodyguards.
The woman’s eyes traveled slowly from Caelum’s head to his feet.
Then she gave a small, contemptuous snort.
Whatever respect she had once held for him was gone.
"Well, well."
Her lips curled.
"Caelum Voss."
Her voice carried the particular cruelty of someone enjoying another person’s downfall.
"Heaven really does have a sense of humor."
She looked him over again.
"The prodigy reduced to trash."
Caelum stared at her without expression.
The excitement he’d felt only moments earlier vanished.
Her tone had extinguished it instantly, like cold water thrown over a flame.
He had known this was coming.
The moment his domain collapsed, he’d expected vultures.
What he hadn’t expected was for the first one through his door to be from Solaris Divine Company.
The very organization that had once stood closest to him.
Awakening as a deity changed everything.
Wealth. Status. Power.
All of it could arrive almost overnight.
Talent alone could transform an ordinary person’s entire social standing, and naturally, that kind of opportunity attracted attention.
Wealthy families came calling.
Beautiful suitors appeared.
Divine companies circled like sharks, competing to secure promising new gods before their rivals could reach them.
It was an ancient ritual dressed in modern clothing.
Find a rising star.
Invest early.
Claim the rewards later.
Solaris Divine Company had claimed Caelum.
During the first half of the semester, the partnership had gone better than anyone could have expected.
Solaris had poured resources into his development, far more than he could have acquired on his own, betting heavily on his potential.
In return, he’d produced results that justified every credit they’d spent.
The woman standing before him, Mira Ashvane, had been assigned to him directly by Solaris. She’d served as a potential partner, a bridge between his ambitions and the company’s investment.
When his domain collapsed, Caelum had been the one to inform Solaris himself.
Directly.
Honestly.
No excuses.
No attempt to hide what had happened.
Judging by the venom in Mira’s voice, however, the company’s calculations had already changed.
Caelum’s eyes narrowed slightly.
He said nothing.
But behind that calm, unreadable expression, something was already taking shape.
A plan.
And if Solaris had decided to abandon him now, then perhaps it was time to remind them why they’d chosen him in the first place.