Clark exhaled, still gripping the glowing recruitment parchment as he opened the Regional Chat window.
The screen immediately flooded with activity, the sheer volume of messages making his head spin.
[Regional Chat – Divine Continent Sector 23]
[WolfKing99]: Just pulled a B-Class Berserker! Let's go!
[SaintLily]: My Summoner is C-Class… better than nothing, I guess.
[HeavenPiercer]: A-Class Sky Archer, baby! This world is mine.
[RockCrusher]: D-Class Miner… I want a refund.
[SovereignZ]: Anyone got anything above A-Class?
[SilentHunter]: Most of you won't survive the first Divine Pressure.
[IronSword]: My brother pulled an A-Class Flame Priest. I only got C-Class Guard Captain… this sucks.
[QuietSun]: I'm not saying my hero. Playing it safe.
[BloodMonarch]: At least we all got something. This is better than Umbra.
The chat scrolled endlessly as more Ascendants flaunted or cursed their starting luck. Most reported C-Class or D-Class heroes, with a handful of rare B and even fewer A-Class recruits showing up like lottery winners.
Clark smirked faintly, hiding his own absurd result.
"I'd break them if I revealed Seraphiel right now," he muttered. "Best to stay silent."
He closed the chat window for now and leaned back, trying to digest everything that had happened.
"So let's get this straight…"
He organized his thoughts carefully.
"First, the entire population of Umbra was transmigrated here. Not just a few chosen people — the whole world. Almost twenty billion souls thrown into this Divine Continent."
Clark frowned. Umbra had always been larger than Earth — its landmass, oceans, and multiple continents easily dwarfing his old world. Now, everyone from ages twelve to seventy was here, scattered across countless sectors like his own.
"Second… everyone received one innate talent."
Except him.
Or rather — he received two. His normal D-Class Dominion and the completely broken EX-Class Divine Multiplier.
"Third," he continued softly, "the starter pack is universal — 1000 wood, 1000 stone, 1000 divine crystals, and 100 Divinity granted automatically at initialization."
Divinity — that was the key.
Not just a currency — though it could buy, trade, and construct — but something far more important.
"You need Divinity to ascend the godly ranks. Without it, you stagnate."
The system made it clear: progression required Divinity. Large amounts of it.
"And Faith," he whispered. "That's another crucial pillar."
Faith would only come later, once recruitment of believers began — but that required advancement to Rank 1 God. Until then, believers couldn't be recruited directly.
He glanced at the empty, silent territory around him.
"Each personal domain starts with two kilometers of untouched land," he added, eyes narrowing. "A tiny kingdom... waiting to be built."
He nodded to himself.
"So in summary:"
Umbra's entire population transmigrated
Ages 12 to 70
Every Ascendant receives one innate talent
Everyone starts with 100 Divinity, 1000 of each basic resource
2km starter domains
Must ascend to Rank 1 God to recruit followers and unlock full potential
Clark exhaled.
"My path is clear. I have to build faster than anyone. Secure my lead now while others are still finding their footing."
Clark closed the chat window and stood, surveying his small domain.
A gentle breeze rolled across the grassy valley. The land was rich, untouched — a blank canvas.
He narrowed his eyes toward a slight rise near the center of his two-kilometer domain — not too steep, not too exposed. A natural high ground. From here, he could see almost the entire territory at once.
"Good place for the core."
Without hesitation, Clark pulled out the glowing construction order for the God's Residence.
[Construction Order: God's Palace (Tier 0)]
He studied it briefly.
"Construction Cost: 100 Wood, 100 Stone, 100 Divine Crystals."
Clark chuckled softly.
"With what I have now? Barely a dent."
He focused his intent and confirmed the build.
[Resources Consumed:
-100 Wood
-100 Stone
-100 Divine Crystals]
The order disintegrated into radiant motes of light, which spiraled upwards into the sky.
A low hum filled the air as golden lines traced themselves upon the ground, forming an intricate circular pattern around the chosen site. The ground trembled lightly. Stones shifted, wood beams materialized out of the light, and crystal fragments embedded themselves into the foundation as if placed by unseen architects.
Within moments, the structure stood complete.
Clark stepped forward to inspect it.
The palace—if it could be called that—was little more than a single hall. Its stone walls were plain, unadorned, and slightly rough, as though hastily carved. A faded red carpet led toward a simple raised platform where a large, rusted iron chair sat — a crude imitation of a throne.
The hall echoed slightly with each step he took, empty of any grandeur.
"So this is a god's seat," Clark muttered dryly. "More like a storage shack with delusions of royalty."
Still, it was a start.
A transparent panel floated before him.
[God's Palace – Tier 0]
Defense: 100/100
Divine Authority Anchored: Active
Upgrade Requirements:
Divinity: 100
Personal Rank: Rank 1 – Low Tier God
"100 Divinity to upgrade?..." Clark whispered.
He exhaled slowly, feeling the weight of those words.
Divinity — the most precious resource in this world. It was not something one gathered like wood or stone. Every action, every follower, every conquest would eventually bring small amounts. But compared to the millions of resources he currently had, 100 Divinity was already a steep price.
"No wonder it's the core currency of godhood. You need it to ascend. You need it to upgrade. And it's hard to come by."
He shook his head, setting those long-term concerns aside.
"I have time. But first…"
His eyes landed on the glowing parchment floating nearby — his Recruitment Order.
[Recruitment Order: SSS-Class – Fallen Angel: Seraphiel]
Without hesitation, Clark activated it.
The scroll disintegrated into particles of light, swirling upwards into the heavens. The air grew denser, saturated with divine pressure, as a golden beam shot down from the endless sky.
From that beam descended a figure.
Graceful. Lethal. Otherworldly.
The woman hovered momentarily before landing softly on the grass. She was tall, with long silver hair that shimmered like liquid starlight, cascading down her back. Two sharp stumps on her shoulder blades marked where great wings once existed. Her golden eyes gleamed with an ethereal glow — intelligent, calm, but burdened.
She wore a dark battle garment lined with silver runes, fitting her like armor and silk in equal measure. Across her back was strapped a long curved blade, pulsating faintly with restrained celestial might.
The woman knelt.
"My Lord," she said, her voice soft but steady. "Seraphiel answers your call."
Clark's breath hitched for a second.
Even kneeling, she radiated presence far beyond anything he imagined.
"Rise, Seraphiel."
She stood smoothly, awaiting his command.
A transparent status panel unfolded before him:
[Seraphiel – Fallen Angel]
Rank: SSS-Class Hero
Level: 1
Title: The Wingless Blade
Loyalty: 90
Class: Divine Commander
Race: Fallen Celestial
Stats:
HP: 10,000
Attack: 1,500
Defense: 800
Divine Essence (Magic): 3,000
Skills:
[Heaven's Judgement] — Divine Burst Strike (Consumes 500 Divine Essence)
[Dark Covenant] — Temporary Stat Amplification (Consumes 300 Divine Essence)
[Command Aura] — Boosts nearby allies' Attack & Defense by 20% (Passive)
Clark's eyes widened as he read the panel.
"This... this isn't even remotely normal," he muttered, almost in disbelief. "These stats are completely out of line."
He thought back to the chaos in the chat — most people bragging about C-Class or B-Class heroes. A handful of lucky ones managed A-Class, but none had anything close to this.
Even at Level 1, Seraphiel's numbers dwarfed what the majority had.
"She's a walking calamity..." Clark whispered, half-grinning. "And she's mine."
He felt a surge of confidence rise from deep within.
One step at a time, the foundation was being laid. The Divine Continent was cruel and filled with danger, but Clark was not starting on even ground.
He had already tipped the scale.