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TGGG — Chapter 72: Divine Intervention
🕑 Added 2025-07-31 03:53:55 +0000 UTCThe buff just has to run out at this very moment. What perfect timing. A self-deprecating smile formed on my lips.
Of course, I could reapply it—the skill didn’t have an obvious cooldown. But apparently, I couldn’t activate it again immediately and must wait for a few seconds before I could buff myself again.
Unfortunately, the abomination standing before me didn’t seem like the type to wait patiently.
Everything around me felt heavier under its gaze. The corrupted divine warriors stood frozen, caught between the last shreds of their will and the sheer dread radiating from Graham’s mutated form. Michelle gritted her teeth, struggling to nock an arrow, while Boris stood almost like a statue, fists clenched and legs refusing to move.
None of us moved. None of us could.
The air was thick with malevolent pressure. It clung to our skin and invaded our thoughts, causing even the simplest actions into burdens. Just breathing felt like an act of defiance.
A level 148 monster was a bona fide Daleth-rank monster, after all. It wasn’t something a newly-advanced Gimmel-rank divine warrior like me could hope to face, and this monster wasn’t just any ordinary monster.
There was one other option I hadn’t considered until now that could help me break free from this situation: Berserk.
The reason I’d avoided using this skill all this time was simple. While the skill granted massive boosts, it could only last for one minute and came with brutal trade-offs. The moment it ended, I’d be left weakened and vulnerable. Worse still, during those sixty seconds, I’d lose almost all control. Activating Berserk would drop my Mind stat by 90 percent, making it nearly impossible to cast or sustain any other skills. And without full awareness, I couldn’t trust myself not to attack my allies—Boris and Michelle—since the skill couldn’t distinguish between friend and foe.
But if I didn’t do something soon… I wouldn’t need to worry about the drawbacks because we’d all be dead.
All of a sudden, Graham—no, the thing that had once been Graham—let out a piercing, shrieking howl. Its third eye throbbed violently, and its grotesque body convulsed with erratic spasms. Tendrils lashed out in every direction, tearing into the ground and sending chunks of debris flying. The abomination was still growing by the second.
I clenched my teeth, ready to unleash every last trump card I had left. But before I could act, the sky split open.
A beam of radiant golden light pierced through the swirling black clouds above the arena. From it descended a divine lance, hurtling down like a blazing meteor. It tore through the black haze in an instant effortlessly, vaporizing the corruption in its path. The lance struck the abomination dead center, impaling it through the chest to anchor it in place.
The abomination screamed. The arena was bathed in blinding light as the malevolent energy began to shatter, breaking apart like glass beneath divine judgment.
Then she descended—Raphael.
No longer in her chibi form, but in her full glory—a towering figure cloaked in light and sanctity, her armor gleaming with divine authority. Six radiant wings unfurled behind her, each one pulsing with sacred power. Her eyes glowed with righteous fury as she hovered over the now-writhing creature pinned by her lance.
“You dare corrupt a divine sanctuary?” she spoke, her voice echoing like thunder across the dueling arena. “Begone.”
She raised one hand, and a sphere of concentrated light formed in her palm. It was pure and absolute, pulsing with power beyond comprehension. With a simple motion, she cast it down.
The sphere descended in silence and engulfed the abomination, and with a deafening, soundless implosion, the creature disintegrated—erased entirely, as if it had never existed. Not a trace truly remained. The third eye, tendrils, blackened flesh… all gone.
The abomination that could kill us with a single sweep of its tendril was killed by Raphael as if it were an ant. Such was the power of a higher being. I was being reminded of the stark difference between me, who was a mere mortal, to a true divine being…
The suffocating haze that had choked the arena dissipated instantly, lifting like a heavy curtain. Sunlight poured through the sky, and the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding finally escaped my chest. The nightmare was over.
For a few seconds, no one spoke.
Michelle lowered her bow, and Boris slowly relaxed his stance, the metallic sheen on his steel-hardened skin fading away. Even Graham’s men dropped to their knees, disoriented, blinking as though waking from a long, suffocating nightmare.
Raphael descended to the ground gently, her radiant wings folding in as her armored feet touched the ground. The brilliance that once surrounded her dimmed slightly, and her expression softened as she surveyed the aftermath of the battle.
“The contamination has been cleansed,” she said quietly, more to herself than to us. “The disgusting eldritch being was severed before it could fully root.”
I took a step toward her, my muscles screaming with each movement. Now that the fight was truly over, the exhaustion I had buried beneath adrenaline finally caught up to me.
Then, without warning, Raphael’s full form shimmered. A soft light enveloped her, and in the blink of an eye, her towering, divine figure regressed into her much smaller chibi form. The wings folded away, leaving only two small ones, and the glowing aura faded, replaced by her usual childlike size and delicate presence.
She flew a little closer to me with her hands clasped behind her back and her large eyes fixed on me.
“Maximillian Anderson,” she said in a formal tone that contrasted with her tiny frame. “Although there was an incident that disrupted the duel midway, by the divine authority granted to me in this realm, I declare you the winner of this match.”
A faint, golden light descended from above, enveloping me like a warm breeze. Aside from the gentle warmth, however, it felt more like ceremonial light to highlight the moment. Typical of Raphael.
The audience gathered in the arena erupted into cheers as they witnessed my victory over Graham. At long last, they were free from the oppressor who had cast a shadow of terror over Fantasia.
“You have survived and triumphed against impossible odds,” Raphael continued. “And you have earned the right to carry forward the legacy of Lady Istellia’s will. As promised, all items within Graham’s inventory shall be transferred to you.”
The moment she spoke those words, a blue screen appeared in front of me.
Congratulations!
You have won the duel to the death in the Grand Colosseum.
All items in [Graham]’s inventory have been transferred to your inventory.
Your Strength has increased by 1.
Your Dexterity has increased by 1.
Your Stamina has increased by 1.
Your Magic Power has increased by 2.
Desperate Willpower has leveled up.
Basic Shield Mastery has leveled up.
Wind Rush has leveled up.
I clenched my fists, elated. I had defeated a Daleth-rank divine warrior—something that no other newly-advanced Gimmel-rank divine warriors could have normally done—and accomplished one of my major goals. Now, with Graham gone, Fantasia wouldn’t be stifled under his iron grip. The other divine warriors would finally be able to develop freely and stand tall alongside the domains of other gods.
Aside from that, previously, Desperate Willpower was boosted by a level because of Grant Plausibility. But with this level up, it should truly become level eight. The fight must have been so intense that I leveled up some of my skills.
As I thought that, Raphael floated higher into the air, her expression turning stern and full of judgment.
“As for you trash,” she said coldly, her voice amplified across the arena like a divine decree, “you are hereby stripped of your status as divine warriors.”
Behind her, a radiant sigil took form—an intricate, six-winged star burning with celestial light. From it, beams of golden energy rained down across the arena like pillars of fate.
The remaining divine warriors—Graham’s men—were caught in place. Still disoriented from the lingering mind control, they dropped to their knees, their bodies trembling under the oppressive weight of Raphael’s presence. A few tried to lift their arms, to speak, to plead, but not a single sound escaped their lips.
You truly can’t underestimate a higher being’s power…
Then, golden nets of divine light descended upon them, one for each of the fallen warriors. They enveloped their bodies, sealing them inside golden cages.
Raphael then continued, devoid of sympathy, “For breaking the duel’s sacred rule and having a connection with a foreign entity, you will be punished just like those who fail to pay their soul coin dues.”
With that, she extended her hand. The golden nets tightened and lifted off the ground, carrying the captured warriors into the air.
“No divine warrior may act without consequence! Let this be a warning to all who serve divinity: those who make a connection with other gods—and worse, disgusting eldritch entities—shall receive the same punishment. I will deliver them to the Extraction Hall, and their punishment is no longer yours to witness.”
And in the next moment, she vanished with the captives in a beam of light, leaving behind only traces of feathers that slowly dissolved into particles of golden light.
Even if Graham’s men hadn’t directly allied themselves with the eldritch being that had taken control of him, they had still been under its influence. There was a high chance that remnants of that corruption remained buried inside them. Or perhaps Raphael had simply used this as a convenient excuse to clean up lingering threats in Fantasia.
Either way, it worked in my favor. With Graham gone and his men taken, most of the problems plaguing Fantasia were now dealt with in one fell swoop.
Still… Extraction Hall.
I now understood exactly what Istellia did with these so-called “sinners.” They weren’t just imprisoned—they were confined within an isolated space where their imagination was slowly drained. It made sense. Istellia was the Goddess of Imagination, and like all gods, she had her methods of gathering divine energy. Other than through gathering faith, this was simply one of them. The stronger the divine warrior, the more she could extract. In essence, it was a fate worse than death—a slow, inescapable hollowing until nothing remained.
“Phew. Finally, it’s all over, huh.” I let out a slow breath as the tension in my shoulders finally began to fade.
Without me realizing it, the injuries I’d sustained during the duel had vanished. Raphael must’ve arranged for my wounds to be healed the moment the battle concluded.
A moment later, footsteps approached from behind.
Boris clapped a heavy hand on my shoulder—almost enough to crush it. “You damn lunatic. You actually managed to beat Graham before we even got there.”
Michelle walked up beside him, her twin axes now strapped behind her back. “You look absolutely disheveled,” she said with a small smirk. “But you did it. I was honestly worried when you told us to leave and finish our class advancements.”
“I feel like hell,” I muttered, forcing a tired smile. Even though my body was completely healed, I was still as exhausted as ever, both physically and mentally. “Let’s get out of here. I need a bed and about twelve hours of uninterrupted sleep.”
A lot had happened over the past couple of days, and I desperately needed time to breathe and process everything.
“Seconded,” Boris said with a nod. “And food. A mountain of it. Maybe some vodka, too... If only this place sold any. I’ve been dying for a drink.”
Michelle tilted her head. “Vod-ka? Is that some kind of ale?”
“Ha-ha. Something like that, yes. Just that it’s a distilled alcohol,” Boris explained with a sigh. “Truly tragic that this place doesn’t have it.”
I shook my head. Despite everything, it was good to hear their banter again; it reminded me I wasn’t alone in all this.
