The collision of the two streaks of light did not result in an explosion of debris, but in a haunting, resonant hum that vibrated through the tectonic plates of the world.
At the center of the battlefield, the crimson sphere of light began to pulsate with a rhythm that mimicked a titan's heartbeat.
Far on the horizon, Hermes, who had been doubled over and retching from the G-force of Asfi's rescue, suddenly froze. He wiped his mouth, his eyes wide and vacant as he stared toward the edge of the world.
"What on earth is causing this massive surge of divine power?!"
Hermes scrambled to his feet, ignoring his lingering nausea. With a sharp flick of his wrist, he bypassed the usual mortal limitations and tapped into a sliver of his sealed authority to manifest the Mirror of the Gods.
A shimmering pane of ethereal glass appeared in the air before him, tuned to the coordinates of the canyon.
"Hermes-sama, what is it?" Asfi asked, her hand on her weapon as she watched her god's frantic movements.
"A surge of divine power, Asfi!" Hermes replied, his voice tight. "And it's grand. It's undisguised. It's as if something is shouting its ascension to the heavens."
Hermes was no stranger to divine fluctuations in the lower world. He had felt the resonance during the Antares incident, but that had been different—that was Leon wielding the Arrow of Artemis, a relic of the heavens.
This was something else. This power felt "constructed," yet "unbound." It carried the signature of a being that had attained godhood through the refinement of Divine Grace, a phenomenon that had been theoretically possible since the gods first descended, but one that no mortal had ever actually achieved.
"Someone... or something... has just stepped into our realm." Hermes whispered.
He wasn't the only one watching. In the Twilight Manor of the Loki Familia, in the towering heights of Babel, and in hidden villas across the continent, every god felt the shift.
The "Mirror of the Gods" was being activated in dozens of locations simultaneously as the pantheon turned its collective gaze toward the crimson sun rising in the east.
What they saw through the shimmering glass caused their pupils to contract in unison.
Floating above the shattered canyon was a creature of nightmare. It was the Black Dragon, but transformed. Its scales were no longer merely obsidian, they were etched with glowing, shimmering crimson patterns that pulsed like molten veins. It flapped its enormous wings, and with every beat, a wave of scarlet light rippled through the air.
The gods recognized that light instantly. It was Divine Power.
"The Black Dragon has become a god." A deity in Orario whispered, their voice trembling. "Is this allowed? What about the contract?"
"The contract is fine." Another god replied, his voice grim as he checked the metaphysical tether between the heavens and the dungeon. "The pact remains unchanged. The world recognizes this ascension as a legitimate evolution of the lower realm's hierarchy."
For the gods, this was the ultimate nightmare. They had descended to the lower world to enjoy the "uncertainty" of mortal life, protected by a contract that prevented them from using their own powers. But now, the Dungeon had produced a god of its own—a being that was not bound by the same treaties of non-interference.
The Black Dragon had not just fused, it had broken the shackles of mortality. It was no longer a "monster" to be hunted. It was a peer.
Leon, standing at the base of the crimson glow, looked up at the transformed King. The pressure was immense, a weight that sought to force him to his knees. He could feel the scarlet divine power trying to erode his Sky Flames, asserting its dominance over the battlefield.
Across the globe, from the hidden villas of distant lands to the bustling heart of Orario, the gods watched their mirrors with expressions ranging from despair to fury.
"Damn it! Why did it turn out like this?!"
In the Twilight Manor, Loki roared, slamming her fist onto the table with enough force to make the wood groan. She completely ignored the throbbing pain in her hand, her face twisted in a mask of rage.
Around her, Finn, Riveria, and the other executives of the Loki Familia stood in stunned silence. They had been in the middle of a debriefing session to summarize the gains of their recent expedition when Loki's demeanor had suddenly shifted.
Without a word of explanation, she had manifested the Mirror of the Gods, revealing the terrifying image of the obsidian beast at the world's end.
Finn and the others stared at the shimmering crimson light pulsating across the dragon's scales. To their mortal eyes, it looked like a surge of concentrated, high-level magic. But seeing Loki's uncharacteristic breakdown, Finn knew the truth was far more dire.
"Loki, tell us plainly—what are we looking at?" Finn asked, his voice cutting through the tension.
Loki didn't look away from the mirror. He gritted his teeth so hard they audibly creaked. "Divine power... That thing at the end of the world isn't just a monster anymore. The Black Dragon has become a god. It's all over."
The proclamation sent a shockwave through the room. The executives' pupils shrank to pinpricks. The implications were clear: they were no longer facing a biological threat, but a cosmic one.
"You must be joking..." Bete muttered, his voice unusually low.
Similar scenes were playing out in every Familia home across Orario. As adventurers learned the truth from their respective deities, a grim, suffocating atmosphere settled over the city.
The hope that had been born from their recent level-ups began to wither in the face of a foe that had transcended the very system of levels.
At Leon's Library, Hestia's face was pale. Unlike the other gods who were mourning the potential loss of their lower-world residency, Hestia's fear was singular and personal. She knew Leon was there. She knew that at this very moment, he was standing directly in the path of a god-level catastrophe.
Hestia felt a desperate urge to unleash her Arcanum, to shatter the rules of the lower world and fly to the edge of the earth to shield him. But the pact was absolute, she was forbidden from interfering with the Black Dragon. She was a spectator to her own worst nightmare.
In the Mirror of the Gods, the deities' attention was primarily fixed on the mutated, crimson-veined dragon. Leon, by comparison, appeared as a tiny, insignificant black speck against the backdrop of the dragon's enormous wings. Most gods hadn't even registered his presence yet, their minds occupied by the dragon's divinity.
Hestia, however, never took her eyes off that speck.
"Ellie, tell Leon to come back. Tell him to run. He doesn't have to do this." Hestia whispered, her voice trembling as she looked at her hair ornament.
But before the message could even be sent, Hestia's eyes widened.
It wasn't just her. Across Orario, every god staring into a Mirror of the Gods suddenly leaned forward. Their expressions of anger and solemnity began to melt away, replaced by shock and then, slowly, by disbelief and growing smiles.
The tiny speck in the image was changing. As Leon stood before the divine dragon, he did not cower. Instead, a brilliant, blinding golden light erupted from his form, expanding until it rivaled the dragon's own crimson aura.
"This is incredible." Hestia murmured softly, her eyes shimmering with a mixture of relief and pride.
She watched the golden light envelop Leon, a radiance that felt familiar yet infinitely more powerful than anything he had shown before.
"I never imagined you were hiding such power, Leon."
The gods watched in silence as the "tiny speck" transformed into a golden sun, standing defiant against the god of the abyss.