In the worldview of a God-Slayer, it is fundamentally humans who bestow names and myths upon the gods, regardless of the era or nation.
In the primeval age, gods had no names.
Humanity simply found the forms of gods in the vast sky and the great earth, fearing the storms and floods brought by their wrath, and worshiping dangerously powerful beasts as their avatars.
However, over the course of long ages, humanity gave the gods names and wove myths for them.
A god who has received a name and a myth will not act beyond the bounds of these two things. When granting boons or receiving tribute, they will act according to their designated roles.
Thus, humanity could prepare for a god's threats or blessings.
These could be described as rituals created by humble humans to prevent the gods' divine might from becoming too overwhelming.
However, should a god act in a way that transcends the meaning of the name and myth they have received, reverting to a more primitive state with fewer mythological constraints, such a god is called a『Heretical God』.
Li Zihan stared at the god-king before him, his expression growing grave.
Lugh Mac Ethlenn, the god of light and the sun in Celtic mythology, the god-king of the Tuatha Dé Danann.
He presided over knowledge, skill, medicine, magic, and invention. He was exceptionally skilled in all disciplines and was one of the greatest warriors among the Celtic gods.
During the second war between the Tuatha Dé Danann and the Fomorians, the king of the Fomorians, Balor of the Evil Eye, used his demonic eye to kill everything he saw, including the previous god-king of the Tuatha Dé Danann, Nuada.
And it was Lugh who slew Balor of the Evil Eye.
Now, He had descended.
The descent of a god requires a catalyst.
Sacrifices, divine artifacts, rituals—anything closely related to their legends could ultimately be summarized as a 'catalyst'.
The aura of the Son of Light pervading the mortal realm had become the catalyst, allowing the god-king from the Celtic pantheon to send down his incarnation.
And that incarnation had now broken free from the shackles of myth.
He was now—
The Heretical God, Lugh.
"Apologies, but I am not Cú Chulainn."
Li Zihan looked at the god-king, who had clearly come seeking his son, and made a gesture for Sirin to fall back before making his declaration.
"But you possess an aura that is strikingly similar to my child's."
The handsome man, holding a long spear in one hand and a short sword in the other, smiled faintly. Yet his eyes, radiant as flames, condensed with a divine pressure that made the very air around them grow heavy.
The sunlight in the sky grew ever more scorching.
The world was heating up.
Yes, the entire world was heating up.
A『Heretical God』will bring disaster upon the mortal realm.
If a sea god were to descend, the entire world would be swallowed by waves and sink beneath the ocean.
If a god of the underworld were to descend, plague would spread to every corner of the world, turning it into a city of the dead.
If a god of judgment were to descend, then all who lived here would suffer various punishments for their sins.
And the descent of a sun god would naturally cause the entire world to become unbearably hot.
This is bad.
Li Zihan thought to himself.
The strength of a Heretical God is determined by their own will; the deeper their obsession, the closer they are to their true self.
It seemed the appearance of Cú Chulainn's aura had been a massive trigger for Lugh.
I hope, Li Zihan thought, that his power isn't anywhere near his true form's.
As he contemplated, a black and red spear, covered in vicious, barbed thorns, materialized in the young man's hands.
Seeing Li Zihan take a defensive stance, the gold in Sirin's eyes, who stood to the side, became fierce.
She was the Herrscher of the Void, a trial prepared by the Imaginary Tree to test civilizations.
She was no decorative vase that needed protection.
She was a "god" who could step onto the battlefield at any moment and face the enemy alongside her lover.
"Sirin, get out of here."
Just as Sirin began to mobilize the Honkai energy within her body, the young man's voice rang out, causing her to stop.
She looked to her lover, demanding a reason with her eyes.
"The farther, the better."
Feeling that his next method of engagement might be a bit intense and environmentally hazardous, the young man looked back at her and spoke with great seriousness.
He wasn't even sure if he could avoid getting caught in the crossfire himself.
Sirin, who was about to unleash the Subspace Gates of Babylon, stared at her lover's serious expression and froze for a moment.
Then, her entire being vanished.
She trusted that there was a good reason for Li Zihan to send her away.
Lugh did not stop Sirin from leaving.
His attention was fixed on the spear in the young man's hand.
That was Gáe Bolg.
The graduation gift his beloved son had received from the queen of the Land of Shadows after learning his craft there.
He has an aura so similar to my child's, and he even wields the same weapon?
No, it wasn't just his child's aura.
There was divinity from other gods on him as well.
Interesting. Truly interesting.
A slight smile touched Lugh's lips.
As that smile appeared, the surrounding flowers, grass, and tree leaves began to wither.
The ever-rising temperature was robbing them of their life force.
"So then, what business might you have with me, one who bears an aura so similar to your son's?" the young man asked with a light chuckle. The blood in his veins, closer to that of a god than a human, began to flow faster, releasing its power.
Even the Core of Reason began to thrum in time with his heart.
"If I were my true self, I would likely adopt you as my son and raise you to be a hero," the gentle-faced man said, his words laced with a heavy, murderous intent.
And then—
A smile brimming with madness devoured the loving kindness on his face.
The entire world blazed with a light as brilliant as the sun.
The ground, the sky, everything in sight began to crack and shatter like glass struck by a heavy blow, splintering piece by piece with a chorus of sharp cracks.
Endless heat radiated outward from him as its center.
Space itself began to warp.
"But I am a Heretical God."
The gaze of the god-king, who had descended in defiance and been consumed by madness, burned with a heat that threatened to vaporize everything in his line of sight.
The demonic sword Fragarach, known as the "Sword of Vengeance" and the "Soul-Reaping Sword," left his hand. Like a bloodthirsty hound, it floated beside its master, awaiting the command to drink blood.
The demonic spear Brionac, which constantly craved blood and could only be pacified by being soaked in a sleeping potion made of poppies, let out a roar like that of a wild beast.
He stared at the young man who shared his beloved son's aura and spoke, one word at a time.
Every syllable dripped with bloodlust and a chill that could freeze the soul.
"Therefore, I will only grant you a trial!"
PS: It's been a while since I've written a fight scene.By the way, can you really bypass sensitive word filters just by switching to traditional characters? (Falls into deep thought)