NEW MISSON: ASCENSION WITHOUT SHADOW
A flash of white engulfed Damien. For a split second, it felt like his body was dissolving, being ripped apart and stitched back together in the fabric of space. When the light finally faded, he was no longer on Earth—or anything remotely like it.
A strange pressure pressed down on his body. The air here was different. Heavily saturated with divine energy, it hummed with an oppressive majesty. The sky above shimmered in waves of gold and silver, its clouds glowing faintly with radiant light. Floating islands and heavenly constructs drifted in the distance. Even the wind carried a divine resonance.
He had arrived in the Gods' Plane.
Damien stood on a floating, circular platform suspended high above a continent-sized expanse. It was eerily silent. No sounds, no footsteps, no voices. Just the vast emptiness of this majestic world.
Then the system chimed.
DING!
WELCOME TO THE GODS' PLANE, HOST.
PUNISHMENT INITIATED.
NEW MISSION AVAILABLE.
MISSION: ASCENT WITHOUT SHADOW
DESCRIPTION: The host must earn renown in the Gods' Plane without relying on the Death Spirit's power.
RESTRICTIONS: All death-type abilities, affinities, and enhancements are temporarily sealed.
DURATION: Until host is recognized by a god or obtains a divine title.
MISSION REWARD: Unsealing of death-type powers + Unique System Upgrade.
BONUS REWARD: ???
PENALTY FOR FAILURE: System will reassign host to lowest plane for indefinite probation.
Damien's expression darkened as he absorbed the information.
"Sealed...?" he muttered. He reached inside, probing his core. The Death Spirit—usually a seething presence—was now silent. Not gone, but locked away, like a beast caged behind divine barriers.
No death aura. No black lightning. No fear-inducing presence. Everything he'd come to rely on… gone.
"Perfect," he muttered sarcastically.
He looked around. There was no staircase. No portal. Just the platform under his feet and the clouds far below. With a shrug, he stepped off the edge.
He didn't fall. Instead, the air twisted around him. Cloud-like mist condensed and cradled his descent, guiding him gently downward. After a moment, the clouds dispersed, and he landed softly on the surface of a divine continent.
Before him stood a city—massive, sprawling, and terrifyingly vibrant. This was no mortal kingdom. Towering walls of crystal and gold lined the perimeter. Divine beasts soared through the sky. Energy signatures from within the city pulsed with raw power that made even Damien feel like an ant. The city pulsed like a living organism, built by gods and guarded by titans.
And in this world, no one knew his name.
Yet.
He approached the entrance where a long line of cultivators, warriors, and mystics waited to gain entry. Each one radiated power leagues above what Damien had faced on Earth. Some had divine bloodlines. Others had flaming halos or glowing tattoos across their bodies. A few weren't even human.
"Name?" the gatekeeper asked without looking up. He wore radiant silver armor and held a golden spear, his presence sharp as a blade.
"Damien," he said calmly.
The man placed his hand on a glowing orb, which began to pulse.
"No title, no affiliation, no divine backing… no bloodline. Bottom-tier entrant," the guard said flatly. "You'll start in the Outer District. Next."
A sigil was burned into Damien's wrist, and he was shoved aside. The gates opened briefly to allow him in.
He stepped into the city.
The Outer District was a far cry from the glittering temples and divine towers at the center. Dirt roads, crumbling buildings, and crude training arenas dominated the zone. It was a dumping ground for the nameless, the weak, and the forgotten. Street fights broke out constantly. People scammed each other for resources. It was survival of the fittest.
Damien exhaled slowly.
"This is more my speed."
As he walked deeper into the district, he drew the attention of several groups. Some saw a newcomer. Others saw an easy target.
He didn't look intimidating now. His aura was restrained, his death energy sealed. No dark lightning. No hellish glare.
Just a quiet man with cold eyes.
It didn't take long.
Three men blocked his path. All of them had visible spiritual tattoos, a sign of minor recognition or completed trials.
"You're new," one of them said, smirking. "That means you either hand over your rations or prove your worth."
Damien didn't speak.
"You deaf?" another one sneered. "We're not asking twice."
Still nothing.
The third man stepped forward and grabbed Damien's collar. "Hey, idiot—"
He didn't finish.
Damien's foot swept under him, and before the others could blink, he twisted the first attacker's arm and slammed him headfirst into the ground. A loud crack echoed as his nose shattered.
The second came charging, but Damien sidestepped and drove his elbow into the man's neck, following with a ruthless kick to the ribs that sent him crashing into a nearby stall.
The last one backed away, stunned.
"W-Wait, we didn't mean—"
Damien's fist silenced him. The man collapsed instantly. Although Damien mostly relyed on the death spirit he was a trained martial artist along with his brothers since his father wanted them to learn self defence, plus those people had zero divine energy and the only thing special was their body, which was just tougher than normal.
A few onlookers who had been eyeing him now turned away, deciding not to get involved. In a place like this, strength mattered more than anything else.
The fight barely scratched Damien's itch. His enemies weren't strong—they were just desperate. Still, it felt good to move. To fight. To crush someone with raw skill and instinct.
The system pinged again.
DING!
HOST STATUS: REGISTERED AS COMBATANT IN OUTER DISTRICT.
HOST REPUTATION: +10
CURRENT RANK: UNKNOWN.
NEXT OBJECTIVE: EARN A TITLE.
Damien exhaled and stared toward the inner city, where golden towers pierced the clouds.
They were strong here. He could feel it in his bones. But so was he.
He didn't need the death spirit to remind the world who he was.
I'll carve my name into this plane with my bare hands if I have to.