The chainsword roared down, cleaving straight through Molag's skull.
In that instant, Molag let out a scream of terror and rage. His body suddenly exploded, power scattering in all directions.
"Wh–what… what is this!?"
Molag's eyes went wide. He had never feared Duanmu Huai's strikes. As he always boasted, he was an immortal Daedric Prince, impossible to kill.
But this time felt utterly different.
When the chainsword split his head, he felt an unimaginable agony, as if his body had been torn clean in half. His power bled away, his strength collapsing.
What is this? What's happening to me?!
It made no sense. Even if slain, his essence should persist in Oblivion, from which he would inevitably reform. Yet this time, his power did not return. Instead, it poured away like a flood, vanishing.
"No… no, no, no, no!!!"
Molag raised his hands in despair, mind blank, unable to act. He was facing something utterly alien to him—
Death. Destruction.
The ground shook. The sky thundered. Crimson lightning rained down, mirroring the Daedric Prince's torment. His massive form collapsed, staring in despair at the vanishing of his power and his life. His body petrified, breaking into fragments like a crumbling statue.
So this… is death?
Yes. This was death.
Watching coldly, Duanmu Huai sneered. He had expected this. Nearly every so-called immortal creature eventually killed itself with arrogance. To them, death was never final, merely a cycle.
But the [Doom Slayer] brought true annihilation. Duanmu Huai had banked on Molag not realizing this—baiting him into offering a chance to be slain. And now, the god was truly dead.
The only pity: this ability worked once. Molag-level idiots weren't easy to find.
Duanmu Huai could feel the gazes from across Oblivion—astonishment, terror, anger, excitement. For the first time, the Daedric Princes had witnessed one of their own permanently destroyed. Whoever Duanmu Huai really was, they now feared him. At least until they figured out how he did it, none would dare provoke him.
But for now, Duanmu Huai's focus shifted to the system prompt before him.
[Molag Bal is dead!]
[Doom Slayer ability activated — Strength +10, Constitution +10, Perception +10, Charisma -30 … Charisma locked, cannot be modified]
"…Minus thirty Charisma? The hell? As if this mug wasn't ugly enough."
He spat on the broken stone remains of Molag.
Lucky his Charisma stat was locked, otherwise who knew what nightmare he'd become.
[Acquired: Heart of the Daedra]
[Player obtained Divine Power — Lesser Divinity]
"Lesser divinity, huh… makes sense."
He grimaced. In Starsea Online, divine ranks ran from Greater, Intermediate, Lesser, to Weak. Chaos Gods held Greater Divinity, galaxy-spanning faiths gave Intermediate, a planet's native gods were Lesser, and subservient spirits only Weak.
Molag, a local deity, was exactly at that level.
[Random Divine Domain: Locked — Fear]
[Believer Effect: All followers gain Intimidation +1]
"Well now, that's not bad."
If he had to die, everyone else might as well share the fear.
He wasn't thrilled about being saddled with the "Fear" domain, but it was fine. Misery loves company.
Now then…
Duanmu Huai's eyes turned to the Heart of the Daedra in his hand.
"Sir Knight, what is that?"
The others gathered around, curiosity in their eyes. With Molag's death, the Daedra hordes had scattered.
"This is a Daedric Heart. With it, I can reshape this Oblivion realm and claim it as my own."
"Eh?! You're going to become a Daedric Prince?"
Anne gasped. Duanmu Huai only shrugged.
"Prince, god, whatever. Think of it like becoming a powerful mage who owns his own pocket dimension."
"I see… and how do you do it?"
"Watch."
To him, this was routine. In the game, mid-tier players and higher all created divine realms. He simply needed to replicate his own old blueprint—with a few tweaks for his domain.
He closed his fist.
"————————!!!"
Reality shattered. Sandstorms howled, ground cracked, sky splintered. Then, suddenly, it all vanished.
Before their eyes spread the infinite starry sea. A massive sun burned nearby. Beneath their feet stretched steel floors and frames.
A vast Gothic cathedral-station floated in space, three colossal causeways linking it to three smaller citadels, each city-sized. The sight alone left them breathless.
"Mm. That'll do for now."
Duanmu Huai dusted his hands. His divine realm was simple—one central cathedral, branching into three Inquisitorial courts: Xenos, Heretics, and Daemons. Unlike other Princes' sprawling realms, his was modest. Power limited his claim, and besides, he didn't need a vast domain.
For him, this was a transit hub. Here souls would dock, train, then join his Inquisition legions to march through the stars.
The process was straightforward:
– Establish his faith on this continent.
– Recruit believers.
– Their souls would come here upon death.
– Through training, they would merge with power armor as spiritual warriors of his Inquisition.
No more begging favors from other gods. He'd forge his own force.
Hear that, Stendarr? Don't need your stuck-up ass anymore.
But his work wasn't done yet.
Molag had enslaved countless souls in this realm. Duanmu Huai summoned them, offering choices. The Inquisition demanded will and purity; he wouldn't keep the rest.
The willing were released to their gods. The damned he hurled into the sun.
Many rejoiced at freedom. Some, however, chose to remain and serve him—including the vampires.
Yes, the enslaved vampire souls were his now. Reunited with Bambi, their queen wept with joy. Learning the truth, she pledged her people to the Inquisition. After all, they had no faith, no gods to claim them—without him, they'd wander as lost shades.
With his realm built and soldiers gathering, only one step remained: spread the faith, recruit, and expand.
Conveniently, he already had a target in mind.
(End of Chapter)