Even fallen gods retain a sliver of possibility for resurrection, as long as their name is remembered, their stories told, and believers keep their faith alive.
"I can understand attempting a revival through a blood sacrifice," Muria mused, staring at the skyscraper-turned-altar enshrouded in the crimson glow of a blood array. "But the scale is laughably small."
For a developed human civilization, the loss of hundreds of lives was a catastrophe. Yet for a god, a blood sacrifice involving a few hundred mortals was barely a joke. Even the most depraved of deities would scoff at such meager offerings.
"Clearly, this is the work of a misguided believer or an opportunistic fool trying to tap into divine power," Muria deduced, rubbing his chin. The world was never short of madmen who craved divine strength, believing themselves cleverer than the gods they sought to exploit.
Of course, not every fool dared such acts. For most, faith was the safest and most orthodox path to accessing a god's power.
"Let's see which kind of fool I'm dealing with this time," Muria muttered, taking a step forward. In an instant, he appeared within the chaos of the skyscraper, where pain-filled groans and cries echoed.
The air shimmered with crimson light, and everyone in its grasp lay collapsed on the floor. Streams of blood-red energy were forcibly siphoned from their bodies, leaving them pallid and weak.
To Muria, the sight was neither shocking nor unfamiliar. He had seen far worse atrocities and found this display almost mundane.
"Help me!" A well-dressed man on the floor struggled to lift his head, his eyes locking onto Muria with a desperate gleam. To him, the boy's sudden appearance was like a lifeline.
"Please, get me out of here! I'll give you everything I have—anything you want!"
"Is someone here to save us?"
"Over here! Please, take me away from this hell!"
"Merciful Father above, have you heard my prayers? Thank you for your deliverance!"
The man's pleas quickly drew the attention of others. In their desperation, they called out to Muria, clinging to even the faintest hope.
Unmoved by their cries, Muria released a soft golden light from his body. The radiance spread, dispelling the crimson glow that filled the room. With the oppressive energy lifted, gasps of relief and astonishment filled the air.
"What... what's happening?"
"Praise the Father! Has He sent His saint to rescue us?"
"This must be a miracle!"
Regaining their strength, the healthier survivors managed to stand, their eyes wide as they beheld Muria levitating in midair. His childlike appearance was at odds with the divine aura emanating from him, yet the contrast only deepened their reverence.
"Who are you...?" one of them dared to ask, their voice trembling with awe.
Before Muria could respond, dark mist began to seep into the room, accompanied by the appearance of countless spiders. Some were as large as a fist, while others were barely the size of a mosquito. They scuttled across walls, floors, and ceilings, weaving webs as they advanced.
Those brave enough to approach Muria, however, burst into flames before getting too close. The inferno reduced the arachnids to ash, leaving a growing pile of soot around him.
"How ruthless!" a sultry voice purred from within the mist.
The fog coalesced into the form of a woman clad in a black, skin-tight gown. Her face was partially obscured by a veil, revealing only full, crimson lips. Platinum-blonde hair cascaded down her shoulders, held in place by a spider-shaped hair clip.
"You must be quite powerful, little one," the woman said, her tone playful yet dripping with malice. "What brings someone like you to meddle in the sacred rites of us humble servants of darkness?"
"Servants of darkness? That sounds like an organization. But if they sent a weakling like you to deal with me, it seems they don't take me seriously," Muria replied with a polite smile.
The woman's expression stiffened, veins bulging slightly on her forehead. "Weakling? How arrogant. Let's see if your bite matches your bark!"
Thick black fog erupted from her body, spreading through the room. Spiders swarmed the walls and floors, their grotesque forms growing rapidly in size.
"Boring," Muria muttered, raising a hand. A wave of flame surged outward, consuming the spiders in an instant. Their screeches echoed briefly before being replaced by silence as they were reduced to ash.
"Impressive!" the woman exclaimed, her confident smirk faltering. "But don't think this is over. More powerful allies will soon arrive to deal with you. Until then—farewell!"
Her figure began to dissolve into the mist, attempting to retreat.
"Farewell? You won't get the chance to see me twice."
Muria extended his hand, unleashing a burst of orange flames that engulfed the room.
With a deafening roar, the windows shattered, sending shards of glass raining down on the streets below. Panicked cries erupted from onlookers as the inferno consumed everything in its path.
When the flames subsided, Muria stood over the charred remains of the woman's body. Her once-alluring figure was reduced to a blackened husk, her distinctive spider-shaped hair clip embedded in her skull.
"You..." the woman croaked, barely able to speak before flames erupted from her mouth. Her body cracked apart, disintegrating into ash.
As Muria turned to leave, heavy footsteps echoed behind him. A towering figure clad in armor emerged from the shadows. His exposed skin was a deep crimson, marked by protruding bone-like growths that gave him a monstrous appearance.
"You killed her," the armored giant growled, his voice a guttural snarl. "Impressive, but how much power did you waste, little boy? Let's see how you fare against me!"
"Stalling, are we?" Muria glanced at the giant, unimpressed. His gaze shifted upward, his original target still waiting above.
"What are you looking at?" the giant roared, swinging a massive axe toward Muria.
The child caught the axe mid-swing, holding it effortlessly between his fingers. Heat radiated from his hand, melting the weapon into molten metal that dripped onto the floor.
"You're more durable than your weapon," Muria remarked, his tone almost bored. He raised a hand and gently tapped the giant's forehead.
Bang!
The giant's head exploded like a watermelon, fragments of skull and brain matter incinerated instantly by flames. His decapitated body crumpled to the floor.
"Now, let's see if this is truly the work of a god—or just the greed of mortals," Muria said, launching himself upward. With a single punch, he shattered the ceiling, creating a path to the building's top floor.
The skyscraper's highest level had been transformed into a vast hall, its walls torn down to create an open space. The floor was a grotesque landscape of charred skulls and skeletal remains, wreathed in black flames. Twisted faces swirled within a howling vortex of wind, their anguished expressions etched into the air.
To most, this would resemble the depths of hell.
"Breaking through my defenses to reach this place... impressive," a raspy voice croaked. "But whether you're lucky or foolish to witness the birth of a true god remains to be seen."
The voice was tinged with arrogance and madness, echoing with self-satisfaction. "You should be honored to witness this moment. Unfortunately, your audacity has sealed your fate."
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