Trump returned to Lakeview Manor, the excitement on his face impossible to hide.
Ivanka, who had been waiting for him, hurried over.
"Father, how did it go?"
Trump chuckled, nodding slightly. The look on his face told her everything she needed to know.
Ivanka's eyes lit up with delight — her father had clearly secured significant benefits. The Trump family's resurgence had finally arrived.
"By the way," Trump asked casually, "how's that one doing?"
Ivanka's expression stiffened, her excitement fading into unease.
"It's been a while since I last saw him. The last time I did... his expression wasn't good."
Trump's face changed subtly — realization dawning, followed quickly by shock.
In that instant, he finally confirmed his suspicion:
one of the two beings who had clashed in the skies over the America last night — that earth-shaking, world-destroying battle between a god and a demon — was none other than their guest.
A chill crept down his spine as his thoughts spiraled.
That apocalyptic power — enough to rival a nuclear detonation — had it come from the man himself, or from the god standing behind him?
If it was the latter, fine. But if it was the former... then things were far more terrifying than he imagined.
Just a messenger, a mere apostle, capable of wielding such overwhelming might?
Then what of the true god behind him?
Visions of the Old Testament flickered through Trump's mind —
Moses parting the sea, the Great Flood, the creation of the world by God Himself.
"—Hiss!"
He drew in a sharp breath.
Could it be... that the true God really could destroy the world?
"Hmm."
A low, amused chuckle echoed beside them — soft, but it struck like thunder in their hearts.
Both Trump and Ivanka froze.
A figure had appeared beside them without warning, as if he had always been there.
Balder.
His calm gaze swept over them, the depths of his eyes carrying an unfathomable, divine detachment — the kind of indifference a god might show toward the ants beneath His feet.
"Why," he asked softly, "do you always insist on using your pitiful mortal logic to interpret the greatness you can never comprehend?"
Trump and Ivanka both paled and immediately bowed.
"Forgive us, my lord," Trump said quickly. "We were wrong."
Apologize first, ask questions later — that was the only safe move, even when you didn't yet know what you were apologizing for.
Balder shook his head slowly. His expression remained impassive.
"You still don't understand."
"God does not care for your ignorant speculation — just as a man does not care what the ants beneath his feet think of him."
His voice carried neither anger nor compassion, only a distant, matter-of-fact tone.
"But your fragile minds... they amuse me. You think that by witnessing a single battle, you can begin to estimate the power of God? What a ridiculous joke."
Trump's heart trembled violently. Sweat soaked his back.
Ivanka, however, composed herself quickly. With a soft smile, she stepped forward and gently massaged Balder's shoulders.
"My lord, please forgive our foolishness," she murmured. "It's just... mortals can't help but yearn for the greatness of the divine."
Balder inclined his head slightly.
"The thoughts of mortals can be understood," he said calmly. "But your mistake... was too great."
He paused. "If you wish to understand even a fragment of divine power, I will not forbid it. But do not use such pitiful, narrow logic to do so."
Ivanka's eyes glimmered. "Then... would you enlighten me, my lord? How should we think?"
Balder did not answer immediately. After a few seconds, he said indifferently,
"In the eyes of the divine, there are only two distinctions — God and mortal. Beneath the gods, all are ants."
"We apostles... are merely slightly larger ants, blessed with a fragment of divine awareness."
He let the words linger for a moment, allowing them to sink in.
Both Trump and Ivanka listened with burning curiosity. No human could resist peering, even a little, into the mysteries of the gods.
"Gods do not concern themselves with mortal hierarchies — they are meaningless. But among apostles, there exists a recognized order — a hierarchy beneath the divine."
"Mortal. Transcendent. Demigod."
"Mortal needs no explanation. Those who surpass mortal limits — who break the boundaries of flesh — step into the Transcendent realm."
"The Transcendent are divided into three grades."
"Third-Class Transcendent: those who surpass human limits, whose physical power reaches several tons — capable of taking on an armed squad alone."
"Second-Class Transcendent: possessing dozens of tons of strength, impervious to most small-scale firearms, and capable of storming a fortified military base alone."
"First-Class Transcendent: a one-man army. A single person who can crush a battalion."
He glanced at them meaningfully.
"The battle you witnessed last night... was merely between two First-Class Transcendents."
Trump and Ivanka's eyes went wide in disbelief.
That level of destruction — just the first step beyond mortality?
Then what of the next level?
"What comes after?" Trump finally asked, voice trembling. "Demigods... they're much stronger than the Transcendent, right?"
Balder's lips curled faintly. "Much stronger?"
"You misunderstand. This is not a matter of degree — but of kind. They are not on the same scale... not even in the same dimension."
"In the Divine Realm, every being who ascends to Demigod can command entire regions. To rule over several planets or worlds is nothing."
"The two most powerful Demigods — one known as the Tyrant — governs over five thousand planets. The other serves as the Watcher of a universe — you may call him a cosmic enforcer."
"—Hiss!"
Two sharp breaths echoed again.
Shock. Terror. Awe.
They had guessed that gods might wield world-ending power...
But they had never imagined that even a Demigod could hold dominion over entire planetary systems!
Was God Himself truly that powerful?
Balder gave a quiet, dismissive laugh.
"So remember this," he said softly.
"Never use your limited human thoughts to reason about the divine."
"When mortals think... the gods laugh."
"You wonder why your world has never witnessed a true miracle?"
He turned his gaze skyward, eyes gleaming faintly with light beyond mortal sight.
"It's simple."
"To the divine, your world is... insignificant. Even we apostles barely care for it — and the gods? They do not even notice it exists."