The chariot wasn't crafted from gold, iron, or wood. It looked like something that refused to be defined at all, light solidified into form, shaped into a smooth, elegant frame pulled by two beasts whose coats shimmered like captured starlight. Their hooves didn't strike the ground so much as compress the air with each step, making the journey feel less like movement and more like the world simply shifting around them.
[Name: Overarch's Chariot]
[Type: Automotive]
[Prerequisite: Divinity S, City God]
[Attributes: Aura Conduit, Overarching]
[Aura Conduit: Doubles Aura effect and range when activated inside the Chariot]
[Overarching: Mitigate all attacks below S- Divinity.]
[Remark: The swift and incorruptible extension of the Lord's will.]
The Lord, still without a true name stood beside Michael. The only sound was the soft, rhythmic chime of the system as it restored His Divinity little by little. Behind them, the radiant gates of His Castle sealed themselves with a quiet flash.
"It is quite a sight, My Lord," Michael said, voice steady and surprisingly gentle compared to the sharp edges he had shown Lucifer. "The chariot was built for speed and silence. We should reach the border in under an hour."
The Lord looked out over the endless landscape, structures shaped from thought and intention, millions of them, each one crafted with quiet perfection. "All of this… yet the City remains without a name," He said. "A place without a name feels like a whisper waiting to be swallowed."
"I agree," Michael answered, "though a whisper can be safer than a declaration screamed too soon. Once the name is spoken, the Great Contest begins. Every God in the realm will hear it." He turned his calm gaze toward His Creator. "That is why I insisted on coming, My Lord. The Citadel does not treat new Gods kindly."
"You think I cannot protect myself?" the Lord asked, tone soft but heavy. The light around Michael dimmed as the weight of that question pressed on him.
Michael bowed his head. "Not at all, My Lord. You are powerful. But your City is new. You have strength, but they have centuries of accumulated Power of Faith. And rivals who have devoured weaker Gods to rise higher. They will see you as a prize."
His blunt honesty contrasted sharply with Lucifer's fiery loyalty. The Lord checked His Power of Faith through the system.
Power of Faith: 100,000/100,000.
Impressive… but clearly not enough to intimidate ancient gods.
"Tell me about these rivals," He commanded.
"They are the Sovereigns," Michael said. "The old ones. They don't fight with swords. They fight by rewriting laws of existence. Their Cities are built from the belief of billions. When you enter the Citadel, My Lord, you must show strength carefully. Too little looks weak. Too much looks foolish."
The Lord decided to test His new equipment. He extended His hand.
[Equipping: Overarch's Blade and Overarch's Armor]
A white-gold flash filled the chariot. Michael lifted an arm to shield his eyes as the armor settled onto the Lord, smooth, cool, almost alive. It wasn't heavy. It flowed with Him, breathing with Him.
But the Overarch's Blade was what stole attention. The metal was a flawless white light, but at its core ran a thin, blue-black vein that pulsed gently. It felt bottomless, as though reality itself bent around the blade.
"My Lord?" Michael revered.
"My declaration," the Lord said, letting the blade rest comfortably in His grip. It felt impossibly light yet rooted, as though it was meant for Him the moment the universe began.
Michael studied it with new awe. "This is beyond anything our Host possesses. That core… that is Divine power. Even Gods would hesitate before such a weapon."
The chariot slowed. The beasts pulling it lowered their heads, sensing the change ahead.
The tranquil glow of the Lord's Domain ended abruptly. The world outside the border looked like a wound.
The sky turned a bruised, metallic gray. Lightning crackled without light. The air dragged heavy with ozone and something older; fear, exhaustion, the scent of dead Cities.
"Welcome to the outskirts of the City of Gods," Michael said, hand drifting to his sword. "A place where new Gods fight for relevance, and old ones die forgotten."
Below them stretched ruins—broken towers, scarred plains, abandoned citadels. Smoke rose from places that looked half-rotten, half-alive.
The Lord looked at the nearest ruin and the system automatically show its details
[Target: Abandoned Fane of the Serpent-Witch]
[Domain Tier: Ruined]
[Population: 0]
[Divinity: Fading]
[Danger Level: Low (Scavenger activity high)]
Failure wasn't quiet here. It was loud, violent, and complete.
The chariot jerked slightly as Michael tensed.
Here is a clean, intense, human-sounding version of the scene, with a real confrontation, real tension, and a cinematic reveal of the Lord's aura.
"My Lord, skirmish ahead," Michael warned. "Two Gods are fighting over the border. They've noticed us."
Lucifer leaned forward from the side of the chariot, his wings brightening. "Let them try."
The unstable burst of divine power hit them a moment later. It was wild and messy, like someone throwing broken lightning out of panic. It barely brushed the Lord's mind, but the irritation of it made His jaw tighten.
Two figures rose from the ruined battlefield below and appeared in their path. One was tall and sharp-featured, wrapped in flickering shadows. The other was hunched, with cracked stone skin and glowing red seams running across his arms.
Both radiated aggression.
"Identify yourselves!" the shadowed one barked. "No one enters this sector without tribute."
"Turn back," the cracked one growled. "Or we take your chariot. And your wings."
Michael stepped forward instantly, wings unfurling in a bright arc of gold. "Mind your tongue. You stand before the Lord of Host and…"
Lucifer interrupted with a grin far too sharp. "Michael, don't waste breath. They won't understand manners until they're on their knees."
The gaunt shadow-God sneered. "Two puppets and some wandering god? That is not a lord. That is prey."
He snapped his fingers.
From the ruins below, a swarm of distorted beings, broken things with mismatched wings. shot into the sky and surrounded the chariot.
Michael's sword ignited in white heat. "My Lord, allow us—"
"You? Fight us?" the cracked God laughed. "We devour cities larger than yours."
Lucifer cracked his neck, delighted. "Michael, take the ugly one. I'll take the one who talks too much."
Michael didn't hesitate. He darted forward, crossing the distance in a streak of gold. Lucifer followed, wings flaring like fire, both Archangels colliding with the two gods in a burst of light and shadow.
The broken-winged swarm shrieked and dove at the Lord.
For a moment, he simply watched.
Michael traded blows with brutal efficiency. Lucifer moved like a burning comet, laughing as he tore through shadows. But even they began to feel the strain every God had their tricks, and these two had stockpiled centuries of stolen faith.
The Lord was impressed with the strength of his escorts. The two gods may be stray gods battling for a ruined domain but their strength cannot be overlooked. Micheal and Lucifer are only Archangels, they are not even divine beings yet they manage to keep the battle equal.
"My Lord" Lucifer called amidst the battle "we have everything under control but if you will, join us and we end this faster"
The cracked God snarled, forcing Michael back a pace. "Crawl back to whatever gutter dripped from. This territory belongs to real gods."
"Ever seen a real God?" The Lord asked rhetorically.
He raised his hand. With a thought in his mind he unleashed his aura
[Aura Released: Authentication started]
A silent pulse swept across the battlefield.
The first God, the shadowed one, met His gaze and instantly buckled.
[Failed Aura Authentication]
[Respect Induced]
He dropped to his knees so hard the ground cracked beneath him.
The second God scared by the scene raised his weapon then…
"Arghhhh" he screamed.
[Failed Aura Authentication]
[Failed Divinity Authentication]
[Mental Damage Induced]
He raised his sword and hit his own head with it. He clutched his skull, stumbling back as blood-like light poured from his eyes.
The Lord was confident his aura was enough to win the battle because the system showed him their stats
[Target 1 Rank: Stray God]
[Divinity: AA (Receding)]
[Target 2 Rank: Stray God]
[Divinity: A- (Receding)]
"The first god had higher Divinity than the second, probably why he passed Divinity authentication" The Lord observed
Lucifer laughed breathlessly. "Oh, that's satisfying."
Michael lowered his sword, eyes wide. "My Lord… your authority is absolute."
The swarm of broken angels shrieked once, then scattered in blind panic.
The shadow-God pressed his forehead into the dirt. "Forgive us, My Lord! We did not know…"
The cracked one sobbed beneath the weight of the mental backlash.
The Lord's voice rolled out calm and unhurried:
"You will grant us passage. And you will inform every being you can that the Lord of Host has awakened"
The kneeling god trembled so badly his wings flickered. "Y–yes… My Lord… at once."
The Lord lowered His hand. Michael and Lucifer returned to His side, wings folding.
Michael smirked. "Next time, My Lord… let us have a little more fun before you end the fight."
"You just want to show the lord you can win the fight on your own" Lucifer sneered
"I can." Michael boasted
The Lord stepped back onto the chariot. "Drive. We continue."
The two defeated Gods watched the light-beasts surge forward, vanishing into the dark sky, fear and awe clawing at their minds.
"Who is he?" The first God asked as he watched their exiting chariot
The chariot lunged forward, swallowed by the dark sky.