Golden Sand Desert.
One of the most dangerous regions in the Seven Seas Realm.
It earned that name not because of actual gold, but because of the searing heat—under the blazing sun, the sand reflected so brightly it looked like a sea of gold.
Watching the billowing sand below, Orsaga sensed the presence of a concealed barrier beneath the desert.
With its level of concealment, most Greater-Rank demons might have missed it entirely. But for Orsaga, who possessed the Worldseer's Eye, an ability that rendered him immune to nearly all forms of visual interference, it was like spotting glass mixed into a pile of dirt.
With the slightest attention, it became impossible not to notice.
Orsaga extended a single hand, and the surrounding energy was instantly drawn to him, gathering like water pulled into a vortex.
A massive, semi-transparent energy hand, stretching for several kilometers, materialized in midair.
With a simple motion, it bypassed the resistance of the endless sand and plunged into the depths of the desert.
Its fingers clenched slightly and latched onto the defensive barrier protecting a hidden underground structure.
Then, as if pulling up a giant radish, Orsaga yanked the entire complex—which was nearly the size of a small country—out of the ground, despite the crushing weight of countless tons of sand.
In the process, an overwhelming tide of sand surged outward like a gushing spring, forming a colossal pit whose bottom could not be seen.
Only after a long while did the surrounding sands begin to collapse back in and cover the void.
By then, the remaining forces of the three great churches—who had just realized an intruder had arrived and hadn't yet decided whether to flee or fight—were left completely stunned.
They had never imagined that the enemy would strike so directly.
Just moments ago, they'd been hiding like rats underground. Now, the blazing sun above brought them no warmth—only a bone-deep chill.
In their eyes, Orsaga—whose body wasn't even large compared to their base—loomed like a sky-darkening cloud, snuffing out all hope.
In just a moment, a third of the clergy who saw Orsaga's true form collapsed into endless agony, their strength too feeble to resist.
Of the remaining two-thirds, ninety percent suffered varying degrees of mental disruption. Only a small number successfully resisted the effect.
A solemnly dressed old man shouted urgently:
"His appearance exerts a divine-effect aura! Anyone below Rank 7—don't look up!"
Those with quicker reflexes snapped out of their stunned states and began issuing rapid orders to prepare for battle.
Soon, over a hundred thousand well-equipped clergymen had formed into battle formations.
Weapons raised, they faced Orsaga, who hovered silently in the sky.
It was only then, after dragging them out of the earth and making no further move, that Orsaga finally spoke:
"I can smell your fear. So if you're afraid of me, then why oppose me at all?. Wouldn't it be simpler to behave like obedient lapdogs?. After all, the so-called gods you once served—were nothing more than lifeforms weaker than myself."
Though his words weren't flattering, they were plain truth.
The elderly leader roared in fury:
"Insolence!
You fiend—how dare you defile our sacred Lord with such blasphemy!, Even if you win today, one day our gods shall rise from death and banish your kind from this world!"
Hearing his words, the previously hesitant and frightened priests suddenly regained their composure. Their eyes burned with a fanatical light.
Clearly, they had long since deified those "gods" in their hearts.
Even though all those gods had been thoroughly destroyed, they still clung to the delusion that their ultimate victory was inevitable.
Utter zealots.
And as he saw his subordinates' morale rapidly rising, the old priest felt a renewed sense of confidence—a spark of belief that they could strike back.
With composure, he issued the next command:
"All units, coordinate! Begin the assault!"
Mages immediately unleashed a barrage of magical attacks toward Orsaga.
The warrior-class priests, clad in blessed armor and wielding master-forged blades, charged toward him.
For a moment, it almost resembled ants swarming an elephant.
The odds were grim—but perhaps, just perhaps, they thought they had a sliver of a chance.
At least, that's how the remnants of the three great churches saw it.
But in reality, Orsaga couldn't even be bothered to move.
Before the spells could touch his skin, the energy field surrounding him automatically disintegrated them.
As for the melee warriors, the moment they stepped out of the underground shelter's protective barrier, they encountered a region of extreme heat—tens of thousands of degrees in temperature.
Most of them dropped dead instantly.
To say they were moths to a flame would be an understatement—it was like leaping into the core of a nuclear reactor.
They, and their armor, turned to ash in a heartbeat—vanishing without even a chance to scream.
Only a handful of elites managed to endure the infernal heat.
But even they, mighty as they were among mortals, found themselves overwhelmed as the temperature rose further with every step closer to Orsaga.
It was like trying to walk into the sun's core.
In the end, before a single one could even reach Orsaga, they were all dead.
The best anyone managed was within a hundred meters of him.
That's right—his sheer aura of heat alone had wiped them all out.
As their ashes began to fade away in the hot wind, Orsaga looked at the remaining clergy behind the barrier, his expression calm.
"That's it?"
"No one else?"
It was understandable that mortals, in their ignorance, might not grasp the threat.
But these weren't mortals. They were supposedly extraordinary beings—and Orsaga couldn't comprehend where they'd found the courage to challenge him.
Those gods they placed their faith in?
Half of them were already digesting inside his stomach.
Counting on them was even more ridiculous than hoping the world's will itself would intervene.
But no one answered his question.
As he looked at their pale faces and hopeless expressions, Orsaga simply shook his head.
"What a pointless struggle."
Then, with a flick of his finger—
Blinding light and searing heat erupted from his fingertips, unleashing energy on par with a Tsar Bomba detonation.
In an instant, it pierced the protective barrier and flooded the interior.
It looked like a second sun had risen.
Over hundreds of thousands of square kilometers, it shone brighter than the actual sun above.
If not for Orsaga deliberately restraining the energy's range, the desert would've immediately bloomed with a nuclear mushroom cloud.
But precisely because of that restraint, all that destructive power became trapped within a confined area, causing its intensity to spike drastically.
The protective barrier shattered instantly.
Everything inside was obliterated.
No matter how tough the buildings, no matter how powerful the individuals—against this surge, they dissolved like foam touched by acid.
All that remained was raw energy.
Orsaga calmly opened his mouth and inhaled. The kilometer-wide fireball began to shrink until it disappeared into his body.
'Done and dusted…'
He thought, a little disappointed.
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T/N:
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