The One Who Writes Existence-Chapter 46: God Of Joy

The battlefield roared in the distance—gods clashed, the skies trembled, and reality itself threatened to break.

Flames surged, storms howled, and illusions shattered like fragile glass. Yet, amid all this divine chaos, one figure remained still.

The Goddess of Ruin sat atop the remains of a crumbling peak, watching the fights unfold. Her eyes flickered with boredom.

She rested her chin on her palm, sighing.

"No one to fight."

It wasn't frustration—just a quiet, lingering disappointment. She had no desire to interfere. Let them enjoy themselves. But as the fights dragged on, a thought crept into her mind.

"Could I take on any three of them at once?"

The idea made her smirk. She might as well try, once they were finished.

But before she could dwell on it further—

A voice came from her left.

"You look bored."

Her body tensed instantly.

She turned sharply—and there, standing just a few steps away, was the God of Joy.

He was smiling, eyes gleaming with that ever-present amusement, his relaxed posture making it seem as if he had simply wandered into the scene.

Impossible.

Ruin narrowed her eyes. She hadn't sensed him at all.

"How the hell did you get near me without me realizing it?"

Joy just chuckled. "Oh, Mrs. Ruin, let's play a game," he said, voice light, teasing. But beneath it, there was something else.

He tilted his head, his grin widening.

"How do you think I've survived till now? And why has none of you ever found me?"

Ruin's lips curled into a slow, knowing smile.

'A hh. So that was it.'

He was testing her.

Her golden irises gleamed with renewed interest.

"Now I am not bored."

The air itself trembled.

Before her, a Synth of Ruin began to form—its shape not summoned, but manifested. It was not just a weapon—it was ruin itself, taking form in her grasp.

Joy stretched lazily, rolling his shoulders. "Well, I just finished a fight," he said casually. "But still... I'm ready."

Ruin studied him carefully.

"You are not summoning your weapon?"

Joy simply shook his head. "Not required."

Her gaze sharpened. "You're overconfident."

Joy smirked. "Well, let's see."

And then—they clashed.

The Battle Begins

Ruin swung first.

Her Synth of Ruin tore through space itself, cutting through existence.

The very air twisted and cracked in its wake. It did not just destroy—it unraveled. A single touch would reduce anything to absolute ruin, breaking it apart in a way that could never be restored.

It was ruin incarnate.

Her strike landed.

But—.

Joy blocked it.

With one hand.

A direct hit. A strike powerful enough to cripple lesser gods if they didn't dodge.

Yet Joy stood firm. His palm pressed against the blade, fingers curled around its edge. No blood. No injury.

For the first time in ages—Ruin was shocked.

Impossible.

She pulled back, golden irises narrowing. "What...?"

Joy just flexed his fingers, rolling his wrist like he had merely caught a feather.

He wiggled his fingers playfully. "Something wrong?"

Ruin's grip on her Synth tightened. No. That wasn't a fluke.

She swung again.

Faster. Stronger.

Her blade moved like a storm of destruction—each strike tearing through the battlefield, slicing through the very fabric of space. Each swing should have left nothing behind.

Yet—

Joy blocked every single one.

She watched, eyes widening, as her divine weapon clashed against his hand—again and again.

Her blade should have cut through anything. Should have reduced anything to ruin.

Yet it did nothing.

The force of her swings shattered mountains, sent shockwaves rippling across the battlefield—but Joy remained unmoved.

"What...?"

She clenched her teeth, frustration creeping in.

She struck faster. Harder. The entire battlefield trembled under the sheer force of her attacks.

But Joy?

He caught every swing. Effortlessly.

One strike. Stopped.

Another. Stopped.

Another. Blocked like it was nothing.

He wasn't dodging. He wasn't countering. He was just standing there—catching her divine strikes like they were mere inconveniences.

Ruin felt something unfamiliar.

A rare sensation.

Her heart pounded.

She attacked with everything.

A final, monstrous swing.

A strike that could end normal lesser gods. A strike that could rip through entire planes of universe from its existence.

It crashed down—

Joy stopped it.

He didn't even flinch.

His palm pressed against the edge of her weapon, halting it completely.

Silence.

The entire battlefield seemed to pause.

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Ruin stared. Disbelief etched into her features.

This was... impossible.

"Where the hell have you been all this time, if you're this strong?" she asked, voice quieter now.

Joy simply smiled.

"I told you already," he said lightly. "I was in a fight till now."

Her grip on her weapon tightened—but then, she stopped.

She let out a deep breath.

And then... she laughed.

A quiet chuckle at first, then a full-bodied laugh.

She shook her head.

"I accept my defeat."

And just like that—she vanished.

As Ruin vanished, Joy remained standing, exhaling softly.

He looked down at his hand—the same hand that had blocked every one of her strikes.

The skin was scorched. The surrounding area—his wrist, his forearm—was laced with cracks of divine ruin, like fractures running through reality itself. The pain finally registered.

He flexed his fingers, watching as tiny wisps of destruction flickered along his skin before fading.

He let out a dry chuckle.

"Well... that hurt more than I expected."

Shaking his hand out, he sighed. "Guess I shouldn't block next time."