The sun's light paled in comparison to His radiance.
The world itself seemed too small to contain His presence.
It wasn't just power—His gaze alone stripped every soul bare, as if nothing in existence could be hidden from Him.
Divine power surged like an endless ocean, vast and boundless.
His eyes hung above them like twin stars, as if the sun and moon had descended into mortal view.
Below, the crimson crystal altar responded.
It blazed with life—multicolored flames erupting skyward, enveloping the sealed Three-Tails and lifting it into the heavens.
A hundred meters… a thousand…
The people could no longer see it.
And then—
The sky tore open.
Orochimaru saw it clearly this time.
What emerged was not a storm, not a portal—but a palace.
A divine palace.
Majestic. Imposing. Absolute.
Dozens of radiant figures drifted around it—gods in attendance, each shimmering with otherworldly light.
It wasn't just a vision—it was a message:
This is the realm of divinity. This is where your offerings go.
Beyond the palace, Orochimaru caught sight of something else.
The God's Domain itself.
There, on a golden plain, lay the once-familiar Manda.
But this was no ordinary snake.
Its body stretched for tens of thousands of meters.
Its scales had turned violet-gold, gleaming like polished divine armor.
With each breath, light flowed across its hide like living runes.
Suddenly, Manda sneezed—
A gust of divine wind erupted from its nostrils, cutting through distant mountains like a blade of judgment.
Orochimaru trembled.
"So… I sacrificed my own beast," he muttered with half a smile, "and this is how far it's ascended…"
His envy burned.
And then—the god spoke.
"Believers…"
"Spread my name across the worlds, and you too shall enter my domain."
"You shall become gods."
Orochimaru's eyes welled with tears.
He fell to the ground, forehead pressed deep into the dirt.
"I would walk through fire for you, my Lord… I would die again a thousand times."
Behind him, the Eternal Cult knelt as one, struck speechless by the promise:
To become a god.
Even those who lacked ambition still dreamt of something—immortality, power, glory.
If not gods… then perhaps eternal priests.
The sky slowly began to clear.
The vision faded.
But the altar—remained.
Its crimson crystal form had transformed into solid gold, humming faintly with divine energy.
A monument.
A holy relic.
The shinobi and civilians of Kirigakure remained frozen, wide-eyed and trembling.
None could speak.
None could comprehend what they had just seen.
Orochimaru rose slowly.
"You've now seen the Divine with your own eyes," he said, smiling faintly.
"Do you still think I went too far?"
No one answered.
There was no hatred in their eyes anymore.
Only reverence.
And fear.
Fear of a man who could speak to a god.
"No wonder they call him the High Priest…"
"It's not arrogance—it's earned."
As for Ao?
No one dared mention his name again.
To insult the divine was to court destruction. Orochimaru had been merciful.
He raised a hand.
"You may rise. The Eternal Church was created by the God himself. He loves all life. Therefore, it is our duty to guide the lost."
"I will pass on the Meditation Technique shortly. Once you begin practicing, you will feel His grace yourself."
"Yes, thank you, High Priest!"
"Glory to the Eternal God!"
"Thank you for His mercy!"
The voices were unanimous.
The entire Mist Village had submitted.
That very day, major reforms swept through Kirigakure.
At the center of the golden altar, they began the blueprints for a towering temple—a structure that would rise high above the village.
A place for prayer.
A center for power.
And a source of divine energy through faith.
Everyone saw it.
This would be the first Holy Capital in the shinobi world.
Ding... Your devout believer, Orochimaru, has sacrificed the Three-Tails Isobu. A 10,000-fold multiplier has been triggered. You have obtained the six-star divine beast: Deep Sea Basalt.
Ding... You've received 4,000 strands of Faith Power. A 100,000-fold multiplier has been activated. You've obtained 40 million Faith Power. After divine refinement, you've gained 8,000 Original Divine Power.
The Three-Tails, once a mere colossus of chakra standing several dozen meters tall, began to swell.
Enlarging. Evolving.
Its body surged in size until it towered over 10,000 meters, casting a shadow that blanketed entire mountains.
Upon its shell were now engraved celestial sigils—sun, moon, and stars etched in brilliant divine patterns.
Its limbs were pillars of heaven, thick and ancient like the roots of a world tree.
A single twitch of its tail caused seismic waves to ripple across the divine plains.
Lucian watched in awe, brows lifting slightly.
"This thing… is massive."
He crossed his arms.
"If more like this show up, they'll tear my world apart."
Without hesitation, he moved.
He raised his hand, and golden divine power gathered at his fingertips.
"I've got over 8,000 Original Divine Power now. Let's expand."
He thrust his will into the Forge of Creation.
Boom.
The air split with a crystalline crack.
The world shivered.
God's Domain began to change.
It surged outward, groaning like a living beast stretching its limbs for the first time.
100,000 miles…
200,000…
300,000…
600,000 miles.
Ding... Host is expanding the God's Domain. Tenfold multiplier triggered. Congratulations, you've obtained a total of 6,000,000 miles of God's Domain.
The land blossomed.
Vast oceans formed and rolled across distant continents. Towering peaks breached the heavens. Clouds danced between sacred mountain ranges.
Where once his world was like a stunning painting—perfect, but flat—
Now it was a living realm.
Sun, moon, and stars began to radiate their full divine functions, pouring new energy into every corner of the domain.
Lucian stood beneath the artificial sun, breathing in the strengthened divine atmosphere.
"We're growing faster than expected," he murmured, golden light gleaming in his eyes.
"But I can't get complacent… I need to start leveraging all this power."
He gazed at the heavens.
"Sitting on divine power isn't enough. We need returns. We need believers. We need worlds."
His plan was simple:
Every conquest brought more faith.
Every act of worship fed his domain.
And one day, all those fragmented worlds would fall under one banner—his.
When the time came, they would not just follow him.
They would become extensions of his world.
Branches of his God's Domain.
That was the real goal.
Finished with the expansion, Lucian let his divine consciousness fade and returned to his body in reality.
He sat once more in his quiet chamber, opening the divine scroll in his lap.
It glowed faintly, radiating ancient knowledge.
These were Mystic Arts of the Gods, sacred techniques passed down through cosmic cycles.
Each word pulsed with secrets of divine manipulation, heavenly combat, and universal authority.
"Let's see how far I can go," Lucian whispered, his fingers tracing the glyphs.
And the scroll began to unravel.