The man blessed by Archangel Michael's blade art finished the mutant zombie effortlessly.
Holy energy flared with each strike, purging the corruption in its flesh. The creature collapsed, landing hard with a dull crack.
A faintly glowing Hexagon Cube tumbled out beside it—light green, pulsing softly.
'What the hell…?'
He took care of that thing like it was nothing.
'I barely even managed a single clean hit. Just how strong is that blade art…?'
Kael approached slowly, eyes flicking between the Cube and the man's glowing blade. The guy was crouched low, examining the Cube like it held scripture.
"Say," Kael began, tone easy but eyes sharp, "you wouldn't mind telling me where you found a zombie that ugly? One strong enough to give someone like you trouble."
The golden warrior chuckled.
"That 'zombie'? He was head coach of the football program. Always thought he was a rotten bastard. Guess God agreed."
The warmth left his voice, replaced by fire and steel.
"Sinful people have no place here. Not anymore. Earth is God's domain—and demons must be purged."
He spoke with such conviction, such blinding certainty, that for a heartbeat… Kael wondered if he was speaking to a man—or a vessel of an angel.
Quite the fanatic, Kael thought, raising an eyebrow.
"Fair enough. But you wouldn't mind telling me what that golden light around you was, would you?" Kael asked, keeping his tone light.
The man's eyes lit up, beaming with joy as if Kael had just mentioned the greatest gift in existence.
"That light," he said, reverent, "is His blessing. A divine gift… from the Archangel Michael himself."
'So Seraphiel was right', Kael thought, doing his best to hide his surprise.
"What, that Archangel Michael? The one from the Bible?"
"Yes," the man replied proudly. "His holiness gave me his blessing… and now I fight in his crusade against the truly sinful."
"That insane man... What level are you to receive such a blessing?" Kael asked, fishing for information.
"God's gift tells me I'm level 18." the man replied proudly.
"..."
Kael stared at him, deadpan.
"Level 18? Brother, I'm level 9! How the hell did you level up so fast?" Kael asked, genuinely bewildered.
"Hmm," the golden warrior tilted his head, looking mildly surprised.
"I didn't realize I was such a high level. His Lordship told me I'm still weak—but that I have potential. That if I follow His path, I'll grow stronger."
"Brother, you just killed a ten-foot-tall zombie like it was nothing. Of course you're high level," Kael said, exasperated.
"Please don't tell me you thought like a level 5 mutant dog or something as a level 1." Kael
The man scratched his cheek, a bit sheepish.
"Well actually I killed a zombie first but after I killed my trainer, someone's dog mutated. German Shepherd. Thing doubled in size—looked like a hellhound by the time it finished barking."
He scratched his cheek, almost bashful. "System called it a level 7 Mutant Shepherd."
Kael blinked. "You're not real."
"What why?" the man says confused.
"Brother that is a level 7 mutant dog I'm level 9 that thing is almost as strong as me and you took it out at like level 2 what do you mean it's just a level 7 mutant."
"Well, when you put it like that I guess I am strong." The man says as he looks over his well-toned body full of beautiful muscles.
"Whatever. I don't even care anymore. Let's just open the Cube and see what's inside," Kael muttered, still curious despite himself not dealing the final blow. As the cube had come from an unusually powerful zombie making it very interesting.
"Oh, you mean the Soulshard?" the golden warrior asked.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever they're called. Just open it up. These things always fascinate me," Kael said, waving off the terminology.
He didn't care about the name—but still, he made a mental note.
'Soulshard, huh?'
"Okay I'll open it."
The golden warrior held the Cube—no, the Soulshard—in both hands.
He didn't chant or pose or pray. He simply closed his eyes and focused.
The crystal pulsed once in response.
Veins of gold shimmered across its surface, chasing each other in looping patterns like divine circuitry. Then, with a faint crack, the shard split open—silent, clean. A pulse of light burst from within, illuminating the dust in the air.
Kael shielded his eyes.
When the glow faded, something drifted gently toward the floor.
A scroll.
Old, but pristine. Its surface shimmered with faint runes, and its parchment glowed faintly with the same golden hue as the man's aura.
The golden warrior caught it midair, eyes widening.
"A scroll?" Kael asked, stepping closer.
The man turned it over slowly in his hands, reverent.
"It's a skill," he said. "A Sparkborn one."
Kael's brow furrowed. "Sparkborn?"
"It means it's from the next Order," the man said, his voice hushed. "The first real evolution beyond beginner classes."
He unfurled the scroll just enough for the text to glow into view.
[Tier 3 Sparkborn Skill – Tough Skin (Passive)]
Your flesh hardens with divine resilience. Increases natural damage resistance and reduces incoming physical impact by 15%.
Kael stared.
That wasn't just a nice buff. That was the kind of ability that let you walk through hell and come out breathing.
"And that dropped from a zombie?" he asked.
The man nodded slowly. "A powerful one. Blessed with clarity, maybe. Enough for the System to recognize its spark and condense its experience into this."
Kael glanced at the scroll again, then back to the man. "So… you gonna use it?"
The golden warrior didn't answer at first. He just stared at the glowing runes.
Then finally, he said, "No need. My flesh is already a gift from the divine."
He rolled it up and held it out toward Kael.
"But you look like you could use it."
Kael blinked. "Wait, what?"
"You fought bravely. For someone below Sparkborn level, that's impressive. God may yet favor you."
Kael reached out slowly, taking the scroll from his hand. It was warm to the touch. Heavy—not in weight, but in presence.
'This thing's worth more than gold,' he thought. 'And he just handed it over like a church flyer.'
"You sure?" Kael asked, still skeptical.
"I already have Michael's blade," the man replied. "What more could I need?"
Kael didn't respond.
He just stared at the scroll, the glowing runes dancing faintly across its surface.
[Tier 3 Skill – Tough Skin (Passive)]
Available: Sparkborn or higher
Status: Incompatible (Current Order: None)
Override Pending…
A soft flicker pulsed in his vision.
[Warning: You are not a Sparkborn. Skill incompatible with standard System pathways.]
[Override Source Detected – Seraphiel]
[Rewriting framework… please wait.]
Kael felt something stir deep inside—like heat pressing against locked doors.
Seraphiel's voice stirred.
"Hold onto it," she whispered. "I'll make it work… just give me time."
As she said that, the scroll in his hands vanished into thin air.
Since the skill hadn't activated yet, Kael had to sell the lie.
"Hmm. That's weird," he muttered, tilting his head. "Says I can't use it until I hit level 10."
"Oh really? That's surprising," the golden warrior replied. "Didn't have that issue earlier."
He paused, then shrugged with a faint grin.
"Ah, whatever. I'm sure it's just 'cause I'm blessed by Michael."
The moment passed. Neither of them spoke.
They just stood there—awkward in the way strong people sometimes are around each other. All the important things had been said. And the rest didn't matter yet.
"So," Kael said eventually, voice low, "you got a name? Or do I just keep calling you Holy Blade Guy?"
The man blinked, as if surprised Kael hadn't asked sooner.
"Elis," he said simply. "Elis Dorne. And you?"
"Kael. Kael Riven."
The handshake was brief but solid. No divine light. No sparks. Just two survivors locking eyes.
"Alright then," Kael said, rolling his shoulder. "I'm heading back to Korn Dorm. Cleared most of the place earlier. Got some folks holed up there."
He glanced sideways.
"You got anyone you want to bring with you?"
Elis's expression faltered. Just for a second.
Then he looked away.
"No," he said quietly. "Everyone at the gym… they didn't make it."
Kael's brow furrowed. "That coach zombie?"
Elis nodded once. "He turned first. Tore through the whole place. My trainer. The receptionist. The regulars. I saw it all."
He paused, eyes drifting, voice low.
"I died too."
Kael straightened. "What?"
Elis looked down at his hands—clean, unscarred, still faintly aglow with divine glyphs.
"I remember the pain. The blood. And then… nothing. Until a voice reached me."
He looked back at Kael.
"Michael. He brought me back."
Kael stayed quiet.
"Why?" he asked eventually.
Elis shook his head. "I don't know. Maybe I was the least sinful one there. Maybe I was just lucky. But I swore—if I got another shot, I'd use it."
His eyes locked with Kael's, steady now.
"So yeah. I'll come with you. I want to help people. I want to save them… the way he saved me."
Kael didn't respond immediately.
But something shifted in him. Just slightly.
"Alright," he said. "Let's go."