'Wait, I'm Supposed to Become a Goddess?! But I'm a Guy!'

Mize ascended into the sky, the transparent film enveloping his form shimmering subtly under the sun's radiant gaze.

The wind roared past his ears, a symphony of nature's gentle touch against his figure.

He paused mid-ascent, his gaze sweeping over the vast expanse below, the earth sprawled out in a patchwork of greens and browns, dotted with clusters of colours.

"What a beautiful world it Is" Mize murmured in a low voice, barely above a whisper and his eyes peered further, the landscape sprawling and vast until it reached the dome illusory wall in the distance, "Alas, the ugliness appears to be more prevalent"

Muttering softly, his voice dissipated into the open air as the luminous aura surrounding him dimmed, revealing his full appearance once more.

This time, however, there was a subtle yet distinct difference, almost negligible if one didn't pay attention.

A keen observer would notice the semi-transparent green film clinging to every contour of his body, blending so seamlessly that it was nearly imperceptible.

Mize moved with deliberate grace, each gesture fluid and precise, hands slicing through the air, feet pivoting in harmony with his body's rotations.

After several spins to acclimate to the sensation of the film against his skin, he halted, nodding in satisfaction.

"Hmm, seems good enough," he mused, a smile playing on his lips. "Feels cool... like an automatic air conditioning system running nonstop."

The skill's design was rudimentary, almost crude, yet its effects were profoundly simple.

Neutrality purification, soul protection, automatic tier-three defense, curse immunity, state of purity, among others.

With this, Mize would be impervious to any abnormal states or skills directed at him, within certain limits, of course, effective only against those who set their sights on him.

It solved the issue that he was worried about and also with the addition of abnormal states cancellation at a certain rule based principle.

"Sadly, it's only capable of shielding me against same-tier or lower-tier skills and states," Mize sighed, accepting the limitation for now.

Meaning that anyone above tier 3 realm was still able to harm him and even pierced through the green film protection.

Perhaps in the future, he could craft more powerful abilities.

His gaze shifted to the open grassy plain stretching endlessly around him.

With a flick of his finger, the halo behind him quivered and surged, contorting into a pair of angelic wings.

Matter > Liquidation, changing the very structure of the atoms > rearranging into a new matter, a new form.

How ridiculous it was, and yet Mize was given this ability.

Each feather was pristinely white, spotless, almost too perfect to be real, and they were unfolded on the back in one smooth motion, a huge swathing noise came.

Mize regarded them with a smile, his fingers weaving through the air as his mental strength surged, guiding the wings to attach seamlessly to the soft fabric of his robe.

Through sheer will, he manipulated matter itself, merging the wings with his attire as naturally as a tree sprouting from the earth.

He controlled the wings for a moment, feeling them as extensions of his own body.

"Now then, more angelic for a bigger impact on the people," he murmured, his wings flapping gently behind him, each spanning nearly ten meters, their range adjustable at his command.

From afar, he looked like a cluster of wings unless a person was to focus his sight, barely being able to make out the figure in the middle.

Turning his focus to the day's agenda, Mize contemplated his next move.

"The dungeon is ready, but for in depth preparation, I will leave it to tomorrow me"

"For now, I have another plan at hand, a goal"

"And the goal is to find a way to spread my fame and beauty throughout the territory and beyond," he said, his eyes narrowing as they locked onto the distant walls of the territory standing tall on the horizon, a behemoth encroaching upon the land.

He lifted a finger, and the wings shimmered, splitting into six pairs on his back, each gradually enlarging to ten meters in length.

With a powerful flap, a gust of wind erupted around him. "For that, perhaps I will have to take a more extreme approach," he mused.

Thoughts churning, he propelled himself forward with a mighty beat of his wings, a massive halo expanding above him, glowing with ethereal golden light that bathed his path.

It wasn't long before he reached the territory's colossal wall.

His arrival was nothing short of a spectacle. The crowd below gasped in unison, their bodies ceased to function, petrified.

Carriages ground to a halt, nobles and commoners alike pouring out in throngs before the gate, all eyes fixed skyward, fingers pointing in awe and disbelief.

Mize observed them with a casual smile.

After all, they would soon be instrumental in his quest for points.

The guards stationed at the gate flinched at his angelic descent.

The captain in charge stepped forward, removing his helmet, eyes wide with shock as he gazed upward.

His subordinates followed suit, each mirroring his astonishment.

Above them hovered an entity of divine semblance, an angel, or perhaps something beyond.

Twelve wings unfurled majestically, resembling a small mountain as they cast their presence over the ground below.

Yet, instead of casting shadows, they radiated light.

Above the figure, a massive rotating golden halo emitted a gentle luminescence, golden particles drifting down like celestial snowflakes.

Flowers bloomed where they landed, the grass swayed in harmony, and even the elderly felt a rejuvenating vigor course through their veins.

A hushed silence enveloped the scene. No one dared to speak, their breaths bated, hearts pounding in their chests.

At the center of it all stood the angelic figure, clad in a robe as white as freshly fallen snow, her face veiled and yet a visage so ethereal, so flawless, it transcended human comprehension.

Then, under the collective gaze of the assembly, the angel spoke.

Her voice rippled through the air, a harmonious melody that resonated deep within their souls. "What a lovely day, isn't it..."

That simple utterance ignited a chain reaction.

The guards at the forefront, as if compelled by an unseen force, dropped to their knees, fists pressed against the earth, heads bowed in reverence.

"We heed her highness presence..." their voices echoed, a chorus of panic and awe for this sudden unannounced arrival.

Gasps rippled through the crowd, nobles, merchants, peasants, all titles and statuses rendered meaningless before the divine presence.

They were mere mortals in the end.

Like a spark igniting dry leaves, they followed suit, awe and reverence swelling in their hearts.

"We greet her highness," they chanted, one by one, regardless of their social standing or profession.

All knelt before the figure.

In a sudden gust, Mize flapped her wings, lifting everyone to their feet, their heads no longer bowed.

"At ease," she intoned, her voice a soothing balm that cleared their minds, instilling a serene clarity.

"I welcome all of you mortals into my territory. Please... make yourselves at home," her words enveloped them like a gentle embrace, a comforting breeze on a tranquil morning.

These were people seeking a new beginning, a fresh chapter in their lives.

If the rumors about this territory's powerful lord were true, then their future promised peace and stability.

They desired little, just a spark of hope in a despairing world.

Today, under this divine being's presence, their resolve to settle was further reaffirmed.

Even the nobles harbored thoughts of outrageous ideas.

Mize regarded the crowd below with a smile, like a group of ants looking up to a giant, their gazes were filled with awe and reverence.

Coupled with the skill that he had created, the reactions changed. No more extreme lust not greed but that doesn't mean these emotions were eliminated.

They were simply suppressed to keep the people rational and not to act out of impulse.

'Brushing points, brushing points... Showing up before this group of native people might be the key' Mize mused, his smile blossoming further.

Though that was not until he caught the sight of a running figure from the back of the line.

'oh?' He blinked.

"O mother of life!"

The serene moment was abruptly shattered by a voice from the back, young, innocent, desperate.

A boy in tattered clothes broke through the line, tears streaming down his dirt-streaked face, fists clenched, bare feet pounding the earth.

"O Mother of Life, please listen to this worthless one's plea!"

His sudden intrusion drew all eyes. Shock, disbelief, and anger flickered across the faces of the onlookers.

Mize was taken aback, his heart stirred but externally, he kept on the facade.

The crowd then boomed, reactions varied.

"Such nonsense from this beggar, daring to address the divine without consent!"

"Blasphemy! Who are you, boy, to seek the divine one's mercy?"

"Stop him at once!"

Their voices rose, each trying to outdo the other, hoping their fervor would earn favor.

Most of them were nobles. Their entourages were ready to move, hands clasped over the hilt of their swords.

The boy's face paled under when he realized this, though he persisted, ran forward with all of his might to the front.

"H-hey stop!"

"Catch him"

But they were a bit late in their steps.

The boy reached the area where the flowers bloomed. His pale complexion regaining a bit of vigor from the golden light and he set his gaze upward, meeting the pair of deep ruby eyes looking back at him.

He froze for a moment, shaking in place.

But then, without warning, he dropped to his knees and slammed his forehead into the ground.

Bang!

Mize was startled, but he didn't stop the boy, eyes squinted, seemingly to be anticipating something.

The sound was sharp, raw.

The crowd flinched.

Blood trickled down his face, mixing with the dust.

He lifted his head slightly, eyes swollen and red, voice trembling as he cried out again.

“O merciful Mother of Life! The land, our land is dying. Evil festers, greed rules, and death has become our only salvation! But now that you've come... maybe, just maybe, we don’t have to die anymore!”

The crowd quieted. Their scorn paused. Even the chasing men paused, their steps hesitant under the boy's words.

“I beg you... not for myself,” the boy sobbed, barely able to lift his head, “but for the others the ones too scared to speak, too broken to beg, too weak to hope!"

"Please, show us light, even just a little!”

He raised his voice, tears streaking down cheeks stained with dirt and blood.

His back trembled as he shouted through clenched teeth, “Grant us your mercy, Mother of Life! Not for me, no, not for me, but for my sister, my mother, for the sick, the hungry, the ones who gave up!”

"They died!"

"My sister was raped!"

"My father was a drunkard!"

"My mother was sold as a slave!"

"Oo Mother of Life, grant me your mercy, I beg you!"

He slammed his head again.

Bang!

The sound echoed, brutal and jarring.

Someone in the crowd gasped, clutching their chest.

Their bodies tensed, eyes drawn closer, some even hesitated to speak but the spark died down immediately.

Bang!

Again.

More blood.

His tiny body shook violently.

The nobles began shifting uneasily.

Even the most arrogant among them now found it hard to look.

One of them muttered, “Someone... someone stop him…”

But no one moved, no one moved.

Perhaps the boy's words had touched something within them.

Even the guards, stalwart and trained to act, remained frozen.

Eyes locked on the boy’s hunched figure.

From the side, a woman let out a sharp voice and clasped her hands together.

“He’s just a child...”

"And what do you expect... The land had always been like this!"

"B-but... "

"We shouldn't ask for more but to live?"

"And now, there's a divine before us!"

"And such grace isn't ours!"

Still, Mize stood silently in the sky, her expression unreadable.

'what the hell?'

'So sudden?'

But everything turned and changed under the course of fate. 'perhaps, I can use this boy for something greater'

The golden light above her didn’t flicker, didn’t dim, it simply illuminated the scene below.

He witnessed it with a fake exterior on his face.

But perhaps, this might be a chance for him to start his outrageous plan.

And the boy continued.

Bang!

His voice cracked, barely audible now, hoarse and pleading.

“Please... just look at us. See us... as more than meat. We were people once. We can be people again, right?”

Someone in the crowd felt it at his guts, his throat sore.

Then another.

And another.

One of the older merchants gritted his teeth and stepped forward, pulling a handkerchief from his coat. “That’s enough, kid... get up”

But the boy shook his head violently. “Not until she hears me... Not until... she sees us...”

"I am just a stupid slave, born under the cruelty of this world, designed to enslave our race under the emotion called greed"

"Many had perished, the group that I was with. During the journey, they perished before they could get here"

"Rumours has it that this place possessed the grace of a divine being, and so I came... with the hopes of seeking mercy, perhaps salvation to this land"

He lifted his eyes for the first time. His face was a mess of blood and tears, bruises swelling already.

But his gaze, it was sharp, burning, desperate.

And he whispered, just loud enough for them all to hear.

“If this is what it takes... then I’ll keep going. I’ll break my skull open if I have to... But if it means this land has a chance... I’ll do it.”

"I know we were just pawns for the people of the sky, but please... I just wishes for peace"

Bang!

A final strike.

His body slumped forward.

Silence.

The tension in the square grew unbearable.

Even the wind dared not move.

One of the women in the crowd broke down completely, dropping to her knees and covering her face.

A man clenched his fists so tightly his knuckles turned white.

The crowd wasn’t weeping for the boy.

Not really.

They were weeping for themselves.

For what they had lost.

For what they had become numb to.

For how easily they had accepted the suffering as normal.

And before all of it, before the blood, the dirt, the tears, and the desperation, stood Mize, floating in quiet stillness.

Her wings barely moved, suspended mid-air.

No one could read her expression.

No one could guess what she was thinking.

But every soul in that square waited, no longer for miracles or salvation, but simply for her response.

'My master, My lord, and My salvation... '

Titrus suddenly spoke to him, starling as his body subconsciously flinched, though he recollected himself in seconds, and responded stiffly, his throat was a bit dry, 'What is it, Titrus?'

Without delay, Titrus then spoke further, his words sincere, 'Will you save them?'

'I don't know, Titrus' Mize denied, he himself was uncertain.

'Then may I make a brazen request, My master, May you be their light?'

'... ' Mize paused, eyes turning as he discerned the weeping crowd beneath him.

'I have a plan on my own and you and this boy might be the key for it, Titrus' He suddenly spoke, lips curling beneath, hidden behind the veil. 'I will bath this despairing world under my mercy... '