I AM THE SON OF THE ALMIGHTY FORGOTTEN GOD

The slap

An afternoon in Horochora felt infinitely more breathtaking than anything Eugene had ever witnessed back in the mortal world. Yet, as Edward Skarsgard stood silhouetted against the sinking sun, the glare of absolute victory seemed to reflect entirely off his frame.

Edward was favored to win this battle—a 99% probability. But Eugene was willing to gamble everything on that remaining 1%. Besides, this was a realm of manifestation where anything could happen, or so they claimed.

The demigods stood gathered around the clearing in the dense woods where Eugene and Edward faced off. Eugene figured they must possess some form of divine, high-tech equivalent to live-broadcast cameras back home.

“Why do you even want to fight me, Edward?” Eugene demanded, his gaze sharp and fixed despite his hammering heart.

Edward offered a calm, composed smile, though Eugene could easily read the underlying condescension.

“For Flowscent.”

“You literally said you weren't taking sides.”

“Ah, you got me. That alibi was a bit weak. How about this instead…,” Edward’s smile widened just a fraction, revealing a glimpse of his true, arrogant nature. “I just really enjoy watching people look at me with sheer awe.”

Eugene rolled his eyes, letting out a sharp.

“Of all the annoying traits people can have, unearned arrogance has got to take the crown,” Eugene muttered, scratching the back of his head.

Edward didn't rush his movements. As his weapon materialized out of thin air like a trick of conjuring magic, he remained chillingly composed.

“Arrogance backed by absolute proof is the best way to shut helpless nobodies like you.”

He flung his dual-ended spear forward. The terrifying speed and pinpoint precision forced Eugene into a frantic double backflip to dodge it.

“Whoa,” Eugene breathed out, a strange, surging current naturally flooding his veins and sparking an unfamiliar sensation that felt… exhilarating. "I’m fast and light. This is dope."

“Let’s set the rule, Eugene. One touch to the face and the match is done.”

Edward ripped his spear back out of the earth with a fluid motion and instantly vanished. Eugene froze, his eyes widening in alarm as he frantically scanned the clearing for any trace of him.

Zap!

A sudden, sharp jolt of electricity surged up his left calf, completely numbing the limb and forcing his knee crashing hard into the dirt. Edward slammed a boot down into Eugene’s spine, pinning him flat to the ground. As Eugene whipped his head around, Edward loomed over him like a conqueror standing atop a mountain of corpses. With a smug, mocking smirk, Edward pressed the tip of his spear directly against Eugene’s left hand, sending a wave of agonizing, searing numbness tearing through his nerves.

“Aaaarrrghhh… keukk!”

From a safe distance up the hill, the Council of Olympiades watched the match unfold like upper-class spectators treating a rabbit thrown into a lion’s den. Yet, they made no move to stop it; they simply waited, watching and analyzing every micro-movement.

Eugene.

“Arghh, shit!” Eugene choked out, his neck muscles straining violently against the pain. The current abruptly cut off the moment Edward dissolved into thin air once more.

Eugene forced himself up off the ground with grueling effort, keeping his eyes peeled to track Edward’s next move. Seconds later, the strike came again from a completely different angle—the exact same cheap trick. Zap him with lightning, vanish into thin air.

Eugene felt like his skull was being repeatedly hammered by a lead weight every single second, but his survival instincts were already piecing together the physics of what was happening.

Edward wasn't vanishing. He wasn't teleporting. He was simply moving at near-lightspeed velocity. He hadn't touched Eugene’s face yet during these strikes—not because he couldn't, but because he chosenot to.

He wanted to toy with him, to put on a show and prove to everyone that Eugene was nothing more than a pathetic joke. Was Eugene just going to sit back and take it? Hell no.

Because Eugene knew what it meant to bow his head and scrape by in the mortal world, but here? He had zero intention of backing down. He was a demigod now. Demihuman, Godspawn, whatever—as long as nobody was flashing cash or crushing him with rent, Eugene always figured out a way to hustle for a win.

Eugene’s hand brushed against a patch of loose gravel beneath his boots. He locked his focus. Edward was obscenely fast, but there was one glaring tell: right before Edward closed in, a tiny, faint current of static electricity sparked along the soil. Eugene waited for it, timed the microsecond, and—

“Whoa!” gasps rippled through the watching crowd as Eugene successfully anticipated the vector and counter-attacked. The gravel he had transmuted into sharp, razor-thin silver spikes forced Edward to whip his spear around in a frantic swipe to deflect them, but Eugene didn't stop there.

He bolted, dropping low to scoop up another handful of dirt and pebbles, instantly morphing them into projectiles to harass Edward as the Rank 1 tried to reposition.

Edward enjoyed playing cat-and-mouse, but his patience was rapidly wearing thin.

“Fight me, Eugene Sidernum!” Edward barked, his tone dropping its playful veneer. “You lived like a total loser back in the mortal world—are you planning to stay a loser here, too?”

“Who the hell said I was?” Eugene snapped back, abruptly halting his sprint—not out of exhaustion, but because his hand had just snagged a thick, fallen tree branch lying in the dirt, instantly warping it into a gleaming silver broadsword.

As Edward materialized directly in front of him with blinding speed, Eugene swung the blade with everything he had left—and—

SCRATCH!

“Did he actually just land a hit on Edward?” a spectator blurted out in disbelief. Flowscent stared intensely from the sidelines, practically willing Eugene to get obliterated, while Leonidas watched quietly, his eyes locked entirely onto Eugene’s footwork.

A single second stretched out like an eternity of tense silence. A long, thin crimson scratch marred Edward’s forearm. Edward’s gaze drifted slowly down to the wound, every passing second injecting a thick, boiling layer of pure, unadulterated fury into his eyes.

He had completely underestimated a low-born demihuman.

“You’ve got quite a few neat little parlor tricks up your sleeve, don’t you?” Edward muttered—his voice dropping into a deadly warning right before he lunged forward, blinded by raw ego.

Eugene swung his sword to parry, but—CLING!—Edward smashed his spear down, sending Eugene’s weapon spinning high into the air. With a brutal kick, Edward sent Eugene crashing back onto the dirt.

Eugene scrambled desperately for his dropped sword, his fingers wrapping around the hilt. But the moment his bare skin made contact with the metal, a massive surge of residual high-voltage current—left over from where Edward’s spear had struck it earlier—violently surged straight through the blade and into his entire body. Eugene went completely limp, paralyzed by the shock.

“Edward and his lethal lightning…”

“Well, duh! He’s the undisputed Rank 1 of the entire academy!”

“Wait, is this even a sparring match anymore? Edward looks like he’s actually trying to flatline the kid…!”

Eugene figured the exact same thing. Edward genuinely wanted to wipe him off the map. A weapon forged from standard iron or metal acted as a phenomenal conductor, and in his desperation, Eugene had completely forgotten basic physics. With agonizing effort, he forced his trembling fingers to let go of the sword, blindly rolling sideways to dodge a follow-up stomp.

He squinted through his blurred, shock-addled vision, spotting a thin trail of blood dripping from Edward’s arm. Using his Deity Echo right now was a death sentence; if he transmuted anything into raw metal or copper, it would just turn into a lightning rod for Edward’s attacks.

“What, you actually trying to catch a murder charge today?” Eugene wheezed out, trying to force a sarcastic joke past his busted, numb lips.

Edward’s expression remained chillingly devoid of empathy. “Why not? It’s not like anyone back home would shed a tear if a nobody like you stopped breathing.”

Eugene froze. The flippant remark struck a raw, agonizing nerve. The sheer emotional spike cut through the static in his brain, sharpening his vision as he glared up from the dirt.

“You know what your power really is, you spoiled little brat?” Eugene rasped, a defiant, spiteful smirk curling across his face. “You can’t even generate your own lightning from scratch, can you?”

Edward’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “What did you just say?”

“It’s because your old man won’t even let you. He’s got issues with demihumans, sure—but you wanna know a little secret? He probably can’t stand your mother, either.”

“Say. That. Again.”

Eugene’s smile stretched wider. If the world was going to tear into his dead mother, he had nothing left to lose.

“No.”

That single, casual denial was all it took to completely shatter Edward’s composed facade into a raging disaster.

With a feral snarl, Edward channeled his fury outward, lashing out at the massive trees lining the clearing—the very obstacles Eugene had been using to kite him. Trunks splintered and exploded into a chaotic storm of flying timber. Eugene sprinted toward one of the large fallen logs, snatching up a massive, thick wooden branch as a makeshift club, charging straight at Edward without a shred of hesitation.

Edward lunged forward, thrusting his spear forward with the jagged tips crackling with blinding, volatile plasma directly in Eugene’s field of vision. Eugene braced his wooden branch just in time to block the lethal impact. If that improvised club had been copper, he’d already be a pile of ash.

“You… are officially getting on my last damn nerve,” Edward snarled, his voice trembling with suppressed rage. “I am not letting you walk away from this.”

“Yeah? Well, mutual feelings, sunshine,” Eugene shot back through gritted teeth.

Edward’s chest heaved, his eyes suddenly flashing with a brilliant, luminescent shade of neon blue just a fraction of a second before the words finally escaped his lips:

*“Divine Domain.”*

And in that instant, absolute panic seized the entire academy.