God, Help Us All [Monster Evolution/Progression/LitRPG]-Chapter 99: The Six Stages To Divinity

The air shimmered around me, the molten ground beneath my feet still radiating the aftermath of my ascension. I stood tall in my humanoid form, horns curving elegantly atop my head, my swishing tail carving faint grooves into the ash-laden earth. My third eye pulsed faintly, its multi-pupiled gaze fixed on the trembling human before me.

James. The little fool actually came back.

His tech-mech sparrow fluttered nervously above his head, chirping in a way that almost sounded like a warning. I couldn't help but smirk, baring the faintest glimpse of my jagged teeth. The aura of destruction around me crackled like distant thunder, a constant reminder of what I had become—a god-beast, a demi-god. And yet here he was, standing his ground, staring up at me with a mixture of fear and desperate resolve.

"You've got guts, human," I said, my voice low and rumbling, each word laced with an edge sharp enough to cut through his armor of false bravado. "I thought I made myself clear the last time we met."

James swallowed hard but didn't back down. "Arthur—"

"God-beast," I corrected, taking a deliberate step forward. The ground beneath me cracked with the weight of my power, a reminder that every inch of this wasteland was mine now. "You don't get to address me by that name anymore, human."

He flinched, but only for a moment. Impressive. Most would've been on their knees by now. Still, his resilience amused me.

"I'm here because we need your help," he continued, his voice steadier than I expected. "The elves—"

I raised a clawed hand, cutting him off. "Save me the speeches. I already know the elves are planning their little war. Let them come." My lips curled into a grin, the weight of my words pressing down on him. "It doesn't concern me."

"But it will!" James took a step forward, his voice rising. Brave, but foolish. "The Day of No Sun is approaching. If we don't stop the elves, the Apocalyptic Dragon will be unsealed. You think you're untouchable now, but even you won't survive what's coming."

I tilted my head, my horns catching faint glimmers in the dim light. My tail swished behind me as I regarded the human before me with a faint smirk, though irritation bubbled beneath the surface.

"The Apocalyptic Dragon?" I repeated, dragging the words out, my tone thick with derision. "I've devoured creatures twice its size and half as pathetic." The words felt hollow even as I said them, an automatic response, but my thoughts turned inward.

What is he talking about? This so-called dragon?

A faint pulse from the Codex in my chest stirred memories that were not entirely mine—fragments, whispers of lore and knowledge I'd never consciously studied but somehow knew. It was a side effect of merging with the Codex, I supposed. My third eye flickered with faint light as I dug deeper into the fragmented knowledge it held.

The Day of No Sun. It was not just a doomsday prophecy whispered among mortals, but a concept etched into the essence of this realm, a celestial reckoning that had occurred in cycles since the Six Realms of Divinity were first established.

The Apocalyptic Dragon was the catalyst of that reckoning, born not of mortal flesh but of primordial energy. Its purpose was singular and absolute: to raze the world, cleanse it of imbalance, and reset the flow of essence for the next cycle. The dragon was a force of pure destruction, its power tied to the very fabric of the world, and it required an extraordinary seal to prevent it from rising unchecked.

The seal was maintained by five avatars, each representing the major races of this world: humans, elves, dwarves, dragons, and demons. These avatars were chosen not through lineage or merit but by the will of the world itself. They embodied their race's essence, and together, they performed the Binding Ritual every millennium to reinforce the dragon's slumber.

But now, with the elves waging war against the other races and the elven avatar openly refusing to participate in the ritual, the seal was weakening. If the dragon awakened, it would unleash destruction on a scale that even demi-gods couldn't withstand.

I frowned, the Codex's revelations coming together in my mind. This wasn't just some mortal's apocalyptic fantasy. This was a divine mechanism—a balancing act orchestrated by the upper planes. My molten pupils narrowed as I began to recall more.

The Six Realms of Divinity.

First Stage: Mortal Realm. This was where the vast majority of life lingered—creatures bound by their mortal essence, their strength limited to the confines of their bodies and their short lifespans.

Second Stage: Empowered Mortals. Those who began to harness essence and manipulate it, gaining abilities that set them apart from the masses.

Third Stage: Demi-Gods. This was my current stage, a point where mortal constraints were broken entirely. Demi-gods were walking calamities, wielding divine attributes and essence so refined it bordered on godhood. Yet, we lacked the divinity that true gods possessed—a fundamental, qualitative difference that marked the Fourth Stage.

Fourth Stage: Godhood. Gods were not bound by essence as mortals or demi-gods were. Their power came from concepts, faith, or laws they governed. They were immortal, their bodies and minds existing on a higher plane.

Fifth Stage: God-Kings. Rare among gods, these beings were sovereigns of divine domains, ruling over realms with absolute authority. They could create or destroy worlds, their power extending far beyond their immediate presence.

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Sixth Stage: Primordials. Beyond gods and kings, the Primordials were the architects of existence itself. They didn't merely control concepts—they were concepts, the forces that shaped reality. They were eternal, untouchable, and unfathomable. The Apocalyptic Dragon, in its own way, was a fragment of Primordial essence, though it lacked sentience.

I exhaled slowly, focusing back on the present. James was still standing there, his face pale but resolute, his hands clenched into fists.

"And what exactly makes you think I care about some ancient bedtime story?" I asked, my tone deliberately casual. "This dragon, these avatars, this Day of No Sun—it's all a mortal concern. I am no longer bound by your petty cycles."

James shook his head, his jaw tightening. "That's where you're wrong. The Day of No Sun doesn't care about you, Arthur. It doesn't care about your progression or your Codex. When the dragon awakens, it won't just destroy the world—it'll disrupt the flow of essence. Even demi-gods like you will be affected."