The retreat of the three gods bought Karim precious time, but he knew it was a temporary truce, not a true peace. The image he'd projected—of untainted faith and vast resources—had been a dangerous gamble. It had made them pause, made them covet, and, most importantly, sown discord among them. They now saw his nascent Divine Kingdom not just as an anomaly to be crushed, but as a prize to be won. The silent war had entered a new, more intricate phase: the Divine Gambit.
Karim used every second. With the direct, overwhelming pressure gone, the cavern resonated with productive energy. Borin, inspired by Karim's power, led teams to extract immense quantities of deep iron and spirit-silver. Under Karim's direct Spirit Ascension Realm guidance, the blacksmith's skill soared. They began forging more than just tools; they crafted reinforced modular plates of deep iron, Qi-infused supports, and even rudimentary mechanisms for complex defenses. The cavern was transforming into a formidable underground fortress, its very structure subtly imbued with Karim's protective essence.
Lark, ever the strategist, focused on expanding their influence and intelligence network. He sent his most trusted scouts—young, agile individuals who could blend into the shadows of the Lower District—to gather information. They listened to whispers, observed the movements of the City Guard, and most crucially, paid attention to any unusual divine activity above. Word of Karim's miraculous survival and the crypt's hidden power continued to spread, drawing new adherents. They arrived not just from the slums, but from the ranks of disillusioned minor sects, disenfranchised merchants, and even a few rogue, low-level cultivators seeking a new path.
Elara, relentless in her training, pushed their fighters to new heights. She refined their Qi manipulation, teaching them to channel the faint energies more effectively. Several of her star pupils, particularly a swift, silent street orphan named Kai, showed remarkable progress, advancing steadily within the Mortal Shell Realm. Karim would occasionally spend time with them, his mere presence accelerating their understanding, subtly enhancing their nascent Qi. Each moment of progress, each flicker of determination in their eyes, flowed back to him, solidifying his Divine Core and nurturing his Spirit Ascension Realm. He was building an army, not just of fighters, but of believers.
During his meditations, Karim deepened his understanding of the Laws of Protection and Creation. He learned to subtly manipulate the very essence of the cavern, shaping its growth, guiding the flow of underground water, and even fostering the rapid proliferation of the bioluminescent fungi, turning parts of the cavern into ethereal, glowing forests. He was not just living in the earth; he was becoming intrinsically linked to its essence, an embodiment of its will within his domain. This strengthened his bond with the Old Blood, whose immense, ancient presence remained a constant, reassuring thrum beneath their feet.
One day, as Karim was overseeing the construction of a massive, Qi-infused blast door at a newly discovered chokepoint, a familiar, unsettling chill swept through the cavern. It was a single, immensely powerful divine probe, focused and precise. Not one of the three gods from before, but a new signature: ancient, calculating, and radiating an overwhelming sense of purity and judgment.
"Anomaly," a voice resonated directly into Karim's mind, clear and sharp as ice, yet imbued with an almost blinding luminescence. "Your actions disturb the Celestial Harmony. You cultivate unsanctioned power. You gather unauthorized faith. This cannot be permitted to fester."
Karim recognized the signature. This was the God of Purity, a deity known for its absolute adherence to cosmic law and its swift, merciless eradication of anything it deemed 'unclean' or 'out of order.' It was a far greater threat than the three covetous gods, for it sought not to claim his faith, but to utterly annihilate him and his nascent Divine Kingdom.
The probe intensified, pressing down on the cavern, not with physical force, but with an overwhelming spiritual pressure designed to crush his will and scatter his followers' faith. Karim felt his people falter, their belief trembling under the sheer, unyielding judgment. The Divine Core flickered, its golden light struggling against the oppressive purity.
He knew he couldn't fight this direct assault on his spiritual essence with brute force. This god was trying to dismantle him from the inside out, by shattering the very faith that fueled him.
"This faith is pure!" Karim projected back, channeling every ounce of his resolve and the unwavering belief from Anya, who, even from a distance, seemed to sense his struggle, her small, innocent faith shining like a beacon. "Born from desperation, forged in hope! It is untainted by your schemes, your wars, your corruption!"
The God of Purity scoffed. "Naive. All mortal faith eventually tarnishes. You are a disease, an uncontrolled growth. The blight must be excised."
Karim then performed a desperate, unprecedented act. He drew deeply on the Divine Core, pulling forth not just its energy, but the raw, unadulterated essence of every soul who believed in him. He then projected this collective essence, not as a defiant attack, but as a plea, a raw, undeniable testament to the suffering they had endured and the pure, desperate hope they now placed in him. He showed the God of Purity the hunger, the despair, the injustices they had faced, and how his protection had been their only solace. He showed it the clean, unwavering trust in his promise of a safe haven. It was a gamble, exposing his most vulnerable foundation to the enemy.
The God of Purity's probe recoiled, not in pain, but in profound, utterly unexpected confusion. It had expected arrogance, malice, or fear. It had not expected such raw, unadulterated mortal suffering, coupled with such pure, fervent, and untainted faith directed towards a mortal. Its rigid Laws of Order and Purity struggled to categorize this anomaly. The very concept of "pure faith" existing outside of its sanctioned domain was a paradox that threatened its absolute judgment.
The immense spiritual pressure on the cavern wavered, then slowly, agonizingly, began to recede. The God of Purity withdrew, not defeated, but bewildered, its probe dissolving with a final, lingering resonance of profound internal conflict. Karim felt its immense, ancient presence retreat to its celestial abode, undoubtedly to re-evaluate its cosmic laws in light of this unsettling encounter.
Karim stood panting, his body trembling, the effort having pushed him to his limits. His people, though unaware of the specific spiritual battle, sensed the lifting of the immense pressure, and a wave of relief and renewed faith washed over him, filling his Divine Core and his Spirit Ascension Realm to overflowing. He had pushed back a deity of cosmic judgment, not with force, but with the very purity of the faith they sought to condemn. He had just revealed a new, profound aspect of his dual-path power: the ability to weaponize vulnerability, to turn their absolute judgment against them.
But he also knew this wouldn't last. The gods, whether covetous or judgmental, would now understand that the orphan's Divine Kingdom was not merely a physical fortress, but a spiritual one, built on a foundation they couldn't easily shatter. His victory was another step in escalating the Divine Gambit. The pantheon would surely convene. And the next move would be theirs, grander and more dangerous than anything he had faced before.
The retreat of the God of Purity left Karim utterly drained, but also exhilarated. He stood amidst his people, the Divine Core still humming in his hand, its golden light a comforting presence. The vast cavern, humming with the Old Blood's deep pulse, felt like a cradle of defiance. He had faced down an embodiment of cosmic judgment, not with brute force, but with the raw, undeniable truth of his people's suffering and their pure, untainted faith. This was a profound realization of his dual path's ultimate potential.
Lark rushed to his side, his face a mixture of awe and concern. "Master Karim, are you well? The pressure... it was immense. Even we felt it down here."
Karim nodded, forcing a steadying breath. "I'm fine. They've retreated. For now." He looked at Elara, whose sharp eyes held a new depth of understanding. She didn't ask questions; she simply nodded, acknowledging the impossible feat he had just accomplished. Her own commitment to his cause solidified further, her internal Qi resonating with his defiance.
The temporary lull after the divine assault was precious. Karim didn't waste it. He intensified their efforts, driven by the chilling certainty that the next move from the gods would be far more coordinated and devastating. The encounter with the God of Purity had highlighted his vulnerability: while his faith-infused power was formidable, his raw Qi cultivation, though rapidly advancing, was still that of a nascent Spirit Ascension Realm cultivator. He was strong, but not yet a true divine being on par with the ancient pantheon.
He pushed his own cultivation relentlessly. He drew on the deep Qi veins of the cavern, absorbing the very essence of the earth, accelerating his progress. The Old Blood, now subtly aware of his confrontation with the sky-dwellers, seemed to resonate with a quiet approval, subtly enhancing his absorption rate. His Spirit Ascension Realm matured, its essence becoming denser, more refined. He began to perceive the flow of Qi throughout the entire subterranean network with perfect clarity, almost as if the earth itself were an extension of his senses.
He also deepened his connection with the Divine Core. He discovered that by focusing the collective faith through it, he could project a field of influence that subtly enhanced the talents of his most devoted followers. Under this aura, Borin's smithing became faster, more precise, his creations imbued with greater resilience. Elara's training sessions yielded faster results, her students' Qi responding with surprising vigor. Even Lark found his administrative tasks easier, his mind sharper, his ability to manage their growing population more intuitive. This was Karim's first, subtle step towards truly building his Divine Kingdom—not just a place, but a living, breathing entity powered by the intertwined destinies of its people.
The number of his followers swelled to over two hundred. They were no longer just a scattered group of refugees. They were a community, bound by shared hardship and unwavering faith in Karim. They called themselves the "Chosen of the Deep," and whispers of their hidden sanctuary spread throughout the lowest echelons of the city's populace. Dispossessed laborers, impoverished artisans, even a few disillusioned low-rank City Guard deserters sought refuge with the Orphan Protector, bringing with them a diverse array of skills and, most importantly, their uncorrupted faith.
As their numbers grew, Karim felt the Divine Core pulsate with an astonishing new vibrancy. It felt like a small, nascent sun within his grasp. He knew the pressure for the next breakthrough was building. He had reached the absolute peak of the Spirit Ascension Realm, the very threshold of becoming a Core Formation Realm cultivator—a true powerhouse in the mortal world, capable of wielding immense spiritual energy and forming a personal, solidified core of power.
One night, as Karim meditated near the Divine Core, which had now rooted itself firmly in the heart of the cavern, he felt it. Not a probe, not an attack, but a chilling, immense presence. It was the collective spiritual presence of the entire divine pantheon above the world, focusing on him. It was silent, overwhelming, like a million eyes fixed on a single speck. This was no longer just the three gods, or the God of Purity. This was the full weight of the established divine order. They had convened. They had discussed. And they had reached a unanimous decision.
He didn't receive a message. He felt their collective intent, broadcast across the spiritual plane: absolute, unyielding annihilation. They would tolerate his existence no longer. His anomaly threatened their very foundation.
A tremor, unlike any before, shook the entire cavern. It wasn't physical; it was a spiritual shockwave, the initial reverberation of a unified divine will. The ground groaned, the cavern walls subtly shifted, and the bioluminescent fungi flickered wildly, threatening to die out entirely. The Old Blood, deep beneath, rumbled with a slow, ancient anger, a silent promise of interference if they directly attacked its domain.
Karim opened his eyes. The Divine Core pulsed frantically, fighting against the crushing pressure. He looked at his sleeping people, their faces peaceful in the dim light, unaware of the cosmic storm brewing above. He had bought them time. He had built them a sanctuary. Now, he faced the ultimate test. The Divine Gambit was over. The gods were making their final, decisive move. And Karim, the orphan, knew he had to meet it. Not just to protect his flock, but to finally forge his Divine Kingdom into an unassailable reality, or be utterly erased from existence.
The spiritual shockwave slammed into the cavern, a silent but palpable blow that rattled every stone and sent tremors of pure cosmic dread through Karim's people. This was not the specific wrath of three gods, but the unified, crushing will of the entire pantheon. It felt like the sky itself was pressing down, attempting to flatten their hidden world into oblivion. The bioluminescent fungi dimmed, their vibrant green fading to a sickly, pale flicker. Anya whimpered in her sleep, unconsciously mirroring the existential terror permeating the air.
Karim stood resolute, the Divine Core in his hand pulsing frantically, fighting against the suffocating pressure. He felt his Spirit Ascension Realm reaching its zenith, the essence of his being vibrating with an urgent need to break through. This collective divine assault was the catalyst, forcing his evolution. His dual path, fueled by both his cultivation and the raw, untainted faith of his flock, was about to undergo its ultimate transformation.
He cast his gaze around the cavern, focusing on the terrified faces of his people. He saw Borin, poised grimly at a half-finished deep-iron gate. He saw Elara, her features stark with grim determination, shielding a group of younger cultivators. He saw Lark, his body trembling but his eyes resolute, comforting the elders. Their fear was profound, but their faith, forged in the crucible of their unwavering belief in him, was an unyielding shield. And from the very heart of the earth, the Old Blood pulsed, its ancient essence resonating with a deep, furious rumble, its own formidable power preparing to counter the external invasion.
Karim knew what he had to do. This was the moment. The divine assault wasn't just a threat; it was a challenge to his very existence, and a forced opportunity for his ultimate ascension. He had to meet their unified will with his own, amplified by the collective belief of his fledgling Divine Kingdom.
He extended his arms, holding the Divine Core aloft. Its golden light flared, pushing back against the encroaching darkness. He closed his eyes, focusing inward, drawing on every ounce of his perfected Spirit Ascension Realm power. He pulled on the vast, resonant power of the Old Blood, intertwining it with his own essence. And then, he drew on the deepest, purest wellspring of his strength: the unwavering, absolute faith of every single soul within his domain. Their hope, their trust, their love for their protector – it all surged into him, a torrent of pure, condensed belief.
The Divine Core began to spin, faster and faster, a miniature sun radiating blinding golden light. It pulsed with an unearthly hum that vibrated through the entire cavern. The protective hand symbol within his own spiritual essence flared, expanding beyond his individual being, reaching out to embrace every single one of his followers, wrapping them in a tangible aura of protection.
As the divine pressure from above intensified, pushing down with crushing force, Karim unleashed his ultimate counter. He didn't just push back; he reached out, drawing on the Laws of Creation and Sustenance he had begun to comprehend within the Spirit Ascension Realm. With a roar that echoed not from his throat, but from his very soul, he poured his entire being, his amplified Qi, the Old Blood's essence, and the boundless faith of his people, into the very fabric of the cavern itself.
The cavern groaned, not in pain, but in monumental transformation. The deep iron veins pulsed with light. The spirit-silver shimmered into existence from barren rock. The very essence of the earth molded to his will, guided by the unified faith of his people. Walls solidified, becoming impossibly dense. Passages shifted and rearranged, forming an intricate, impossible labyrinth that defied the laws of mortal architecture. The air became thick with raw spiritual power, breathable only by those sustained by his aura.
The spiritual shockwave from the pantheon above slammed into this newly forged reality. But instead of crushing it, the divine assault met an unyielding, living fortress. The cavern, shaped by Karim's will and infused with the collective faith of his people, had transcended its physical form. It became a direct extension of his power, a tangible manifestation of his burgeoning Divine Kingdom.
The gods above recoiled, their collective presence trembling. They had expected to obliterate a rogue mortal. Instead, they had collided with a fortress woven from faith and the very essence of the earth, a domain that responded to their wrath with defiant, growing power.
And within that instant of ultimate confrontation, as the cavern transformed around him, Karim Grete, the orphan, underwent his final ascension. His spiritual essence, having fully merged with the Laws of Protection and Creation, condensed into a brilliant, immutable sphere within his very core. He had shattered the limits of the Spirit Ascension Realm. He had forged his personal Divine Core. He was no longer just a cultivator. He was a God.
He stood in the heart of his newly formed Divine Kingdom, its walls pulsing with the life of his people, its essence resonating with the ancient power of the Old Blood. He opened his eyes. They glowed with an ethereal, golden light. He could sense every soul within his domain, every heartbeat, every flicker of their precious faith. He could feel the enraged, bewildered presence of the pantheon above.
The war had not ended. It had simply begun on a new scale. The orphan from the slums had not just survived; he had defied the cosmos and forged his own divinity. And now, the true battle for his Divine Kingdom, a war between the old and the new, between the established and the revolutionary, was truly about to unfold.