When people can't have something, many would rather see it destroyed. This sentiment isn't exclusive to individuals—it can extend to entire groups or species.
Currently, both humanity and the alien invaders remained restrained. The highest-level combatants from both sides were locked in a mutual deterrence, neither willing to make the first move.
This restraint stemmed from shared concerns. Both sides viewed the world as a place for their species to thrive and reproduce. A clash between such powerful entities would bring catastrophic destruction to the world itself.
But when one species faced extinction, their most powerful figures would undoubtedly go mad in their final moments. The resulting chaos could devastate this medium-sized world, which had yet to ascend to the status of a grand world.
However, if someone could eliminate the alien invaders at minimal cost, the world would undoubtedly reward them generously with primal energy.
Dragging the war on indefinitely placed a massive burden on both the world and humanity.
"Eliminating the alien invaders entirely…" Muria narrowed his eyes as he pondered how to acquire primal energy. "Extinction isn't the only way to make them disappear from this world. There are other methods."
As someone who had descended into this world from the void, Muria's perspective differed from those native to the Star Armor World. His solutions were unconventional.
The 76th District of the Church of the Stars
A young girl, her face etched with fatigue, returned home, her expression downcast. She hesitated briefly at the door before opening it, greeted by two pairs of expectant eyes.
"Well, Vessir, did you pass?" A middle-aged woman sitting on a worn-out couch asked anxiously, her concern evident.
"No." The girl shook her head dejectedly. She had been searching for a job, but finding a good one was exceedingly difficult due to the numerous prerequisites.
Her university diploma alone wasn't enough, so she had been studying for additional certifications to boost her qualifications. The one she had just failed was particularly prestigious, enough to secure a stable job that could cover her basic needs—but its difficulty reflected its value.
"Sigh…" Hearing their daughter's reply, the couple let out a collective sigh. They were ordinary people running a small business, struggling to make ends meet. Putting their daughter through university had already stretched them to their limits.
They had hoped she could support herself after graduation, but the job market was brutal.
"I'll go upstairs to study," the girl mumbled, lowering her head and heading toward her room.
"Vessir, don't lose heart. You can try again next time. Don't give up…"
Bang!
The only response to her mother's comfort was the dull sound of a door slamming shut. The middle-aged woman, hand half-raised, could only lower it helplessly as she watched her daughter retreat.
"This child…" she muttered, forcing a bitter smile.
"Let her be. She's struggling enough as it is. Talking to her now won't help," her husband said, seated on the couch. The furrowed lines on his forehead deepened with concern.
"She's pushing herself too hard. She doesn't need to shoulder so much at her age. We can still support her if she needs time."
"I know we're not much, but we can manage to provide for her," he replied, his tone heavy.
Upstairs, the girl threw herself onto her bed, burying her face in the covers to muffle her sobs. She didn't want her parents to see her like this.
After crying, she sat up, wiped her tears, and prepared to resume studying. Her eyes inadvertently fell on a shrine in her room—a simple altar housing a genderless, featureless stone idol.
On impulse, she knelt before the shrine and began to pray as she had many times before.
To be honest, her prayers were more ritual than belief. She didn't expect much from the idol. The shrine existed because it was customary in their country—every household had one or two.
Her belief in the divine was mild, influenced by her parents. It didn't hurt to believe, after all. Sometimes, unexplainable events in life could only be attributed to divine intervention.
"Great god, your faithful servant Vessir prays for a stable job," she whispered, bowing deeply.
Unbeknownst to her, the previously inert stone idol began to emit a faint glow. Its indistinct features softened, becoming subtly feminine. Simultaneously, a barely perceptible energy was drawn from Vessir, merging into the idol.
Oblivious to the changes, Vessir stood and returned to her studies.
The idol's eyes briefly flickered with light before dimming. The energy it had absorbed traveled to a newly constructed domain, where it was intercepted by a pale, elegant hand.
"Another prayer for a cushy job? How predictable," the golden dragoness muttered, tossing the sliver of energy aside.
She had received countless similar prayers, most of which were beyond her ability to fulfill.
Her influence didn't extend into the Church of the Stars' territory, making it impossible to leverage her resources to help these petitioners.
"These people… Do they think gods are magical wish-granting machines?" she huffed indignantly. Surveying the small, newly formed domain around her, her expression turned smug.
Though modest in size—less than a square kilometer—it was her first step in constructing a divine realm.
The domain was functional, capable of housing the souls of devout followers and expanding through faith. However, her current reservoir of faith energy was so meager that even altering the terrain was a stretch. Her focus remained on expansion and decoration, as the nascent realm was embarrassingly barren.
"Praying for her husband's recovery? Now, that's a reasonable wish." Grasping another strand of faith energy, she smiled.
Her current powers, stolen from the Church's god, were rudimentary—limited to basic applications like healing.
Finding jobs for worshippers, however, involved manipulating luck, a far more complex domain beyond her reach.
If she could extend her corporate network into the Church's territories, she might fulfill such prayers through mundane means. But for now, her divine influence was limited to treating minor ailments.
In a dimly lit hospital room, a man lay on a bed, staring blankly at the peeling ceiling.
Three days earlier, he had been in a car accident that left him paralyzed from the waist down. Advanced Federation medical technology could cure him, but the cost was prohibitive. He couldn't bear to financially ruin his family for his treatment.
Contemplating his options, he considered ending his life to spare his loved ones the burden.
As sleep overtook him, he drifted into unconsciousness, unaware of the faint golden glow beginning to envelop him…
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