According to the rules of the Awakening Battlefield, each participant—whether adventurer or Divine Weapon—only refreshes their challenge eligibility once every five years.
Everyone who joins does so chasing after the gods’ rewards.
But from the challenge list, it was clear that very few Divine Weapons were willing to participate. And with good reason—"the gods’ balancing patch" was nothing but a nerf to them. Trading that kind of risk for a few shiny prizes? Not worth it.
The only true benefit was that, by entering the battlefield, they wouldn’t suffer the same decay as Misius. Normally, the longer a Divine Weapon remained in the Earth-fused dimension, the more their divine rule would deteriorate. But here, that rule didn’t apply.
A beam of transport light began to rise around Orson as he smirked at Seraph Xinala.
"A proud Eight-Winged Seraph, and this is all the HP you’ve got? You’re really going to fight me ?"
"I won’t even need to take damage to kill you," Xinala shot back with haughty disdain.
Orson chuckled silently. Even after a massive HP reduction, she still had 170 million health—enough to make any adventurer tremble.
But these weren’t NPCs. They didn’t fight with predictable patterns.
What worked on NPCs would almost never work on them.
Snow Dream kept her gaze locked on him. Orson choosing not to use any of his refusal tokens didn’t surprise her at all.
She knew his personality well. His arrogance wasn’t blind. It came from absolute confidence in his power. He wasn’t a reckless fool.
"I’ll be waiting for you in the Abyss," she whispered, smiling sweetly. "I’ll hold you tight, and together we’ll fall... turning that moment into eternity."
It was the same smile she gave him the first time they met—in that VR café, so long ago.
"I have no interest in that," Orson replied flatly.
Sienna and Blank were still waiting for him. He had no time for poetic dramatics.
He had to end this before it spiraled beyond control.
Snow Dream’s composure wavered for the first time. A rush of emotion flared within her. Her voice cracked.
"Let me ask just once more... did you ever even like—"
But before the words could finish, the transport light flashed, and they vanished—teleported to separate coordinates across the Lost World.
"You have discovered: [The Forgotten Sanctuary]."
Orson appeared before a crumbling temple, surrounded by towering stones and worn-down sculptures. Clearly, a great civilization had once thrived here.
But it had been wiped from existence. Only the vegetation remained.
Every trace of intelligent life had been scrubbed clean by the gods.
Only faint marks of past adventurer battles lingered.
This was the ugly truth of the galaxy-spanning dimensions.
The so-called gods never valued life. Adventurers, Divine Weapons, natives—they were all disposable pawns.
A red alert flashed on the mini-map.
Flame Lord, founder of the Fire-Worship Cult and a fire-elemental dark-sword user, had entered the field.
Another alert. A powerful presence surged into being hundreds of kilometers away.
Starlight shimmered along the distant horizon.
It was Moon Admiral Sai, commander of the South European Holy Nation—a God-tier knight known for summoning the Bright Galaxy in battle.
Orson scanned the mini-map carefully. Two enemies had spawned near him; the others had landed farther away. But together, their positions formed a subtle net, slowly closing in around the Forgotten Sanctuary.
"Time to get to work."
He raised a hand and summoned Aeloria and Berenice.
"Work? You mean robbery? Hell yes, I’m in!" Berenice shouted gleefully from his head.
Orson pinched her tiny foot between his fingers and scolded, "This time, we’re the ones getting robbed."
"Wha—what? Who dares! Who DARES!" Berenice shrieked, transforming into her dog-sized dragon form and barking furiously. "They want my loot? They’ll have to pry it from my claws!"
Orson sighed. Somehow, even his inventory had become part of her personal property.
Shameless, as always.
Aeloria, in contrast, had gone quiet—her posture tense, her expression serious. She could sense the incoming pressure. Several of those enemies made her dragon scales tremble.
"No regrets? If you want out, I can transfer control of you to someone else," Orson said, resting a hand on her armored shoulder.
Though Usher was immobilized, he still had Infinite Dimensions access. As long as his battle space had room, he could take control of Aeloria.
Aeloria’s blood-red eyes shimmered with defiant resolve.
"Fight to the last drop," she said firmly.
Orson nodded in approval.
All those instant noodles he’d gifted her hadn’t been in vain.
"I’ll fight too! Praise me!" Berenice piped up.
Orson flicked her on the forehead. "How about you be useful for once before asking for praise?"
"I am useful! Watch me roll an assist-type Forbidden Curse!"
Suddenly, a massive rainbow-colored wheel materialized above her head.
On the wheel were sections labeled E-Class to SS-Class. Whatever the pointer landed on, that was the skill she’d summon.
"Spin it! I’m gonna go full force!" Berenice barked excitedly.
"Oh great... here we go with the RNG again." Orson rolled his eyes.
Luck-based mechanics. His least favorite thing in the world.
But there was no stopping Berenice when she got .
With a sigh, he gave the wheel a flick.
"SS! SS! I, the Dragon Queen, command you—land on SS!" Berenice roared.
Orson shrugged. He didn’t have high hopes. The SS-Class segment was only about two fingers wide.
Meanwhile, the E-Class chunk was the size of two damn palms.
Typical gacha garbage.
Sure enough, the pointer started slowing down—drifting past S-Class... then heading straight for E-Class with cruel precision.
Just like every spin he’d lost at that VR arcade with Sienna, trying to win a limited-edition plush toy. Damn thing nearly bankrupted them.
"It’s over..." Berenice whimpered, her tail drooping.
A breeze kicked up from nowhere.
The tiny flower perched on Orson’s shoulder began to sway rhythmically.
And then... the wheel stopped.
"Your companion Berenice has acquired SS-Class Wind Element Assist Skill: [Stormflutter Butterfly]!"
Effect 1: Gentle Wind guides your attacks, drastically improving basic attack accuracy.
Effect 2: Wild Gale infuses your strikes with violent energy, greatly increasing crit chance and fatal blow probability.
The announcement echoed in the air.
Orson’s jaw nearly hit the ground.
"What the hell just happened?"