Becoming a God Starts with Acting-Chapter 292: The Cosmic Tree

Drake’s massive blade was drenched in fresh blood and streaked with thick, black ichor. Every drop that hit the ground sizzled, corroding the surface beneath it—an eerie display of the creatures’ unnatural power.

His face was smeared with blood as well, a deep scar running from his right cheek all the way down to his chin, fresh crimson still dripping from the wound.

No one knew how many of his comrades had already fallen. They were just ordinary people—ordinary humans using ordinary strength to fight against supernatural forces—the echoing screams of those even more helpless than they seemed like an omen of their inevitable defeat.

"This is actually better than what I expected," Layla murmured, surveying the chaos of the battlefield.

Frank, now bound to a chair, curled his lips into a mocking smile. "Looks like you don’t care much about the survival of this world, do you? Just look at how indifferent you are."

Layla turned her gaze toward him, her voice calm. "I’m not worried—because I know humanity will win."

"Yes, of course," Frank sneered, his eyes gleaming with something dark and twisted. "No matter how many lives are lost, as long as humanity wins, you’ll accept it all, won’t you? Maybe even if there’s only one survivor left standing in the end, you’ll still smile and call it victory."

Layla met his gaze. "Don’t waste your time trying to provoke me. I’m more interested in figuring out how to drive you out of Frank’s body..."

Frank chuckled softly. "Don’t bother. I’ll be right here—to witness the downfall of all humanity!"

But before his words could fully fade, the battlefield suddenly shifted.

The monsters preparing to spill out of the capital’s borders abruptly stopped. It was as if an invisible dome had descended, blocking their advance.

The monsters seemed to sense something—those swarming toward Leonard suddenly scattered in all directions.

The sky cleared, and a single dark figure hovered above, his cloak billowing wildly in the fierce wind.

Silvanus lowered his gaze to the scene below. His face was deathly pale—so pale that it looked as though he might collapse at any moment.

[You cannot use up all your acting points and faith points! You’ll die for sure!]

"I just want to ask you one last time," Silvanus said quietly. "What exactly are you?"

The system hesitated momentarily before replying, its tone uncertain: [You... you’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?]

"No," he murmured. "I’m simply doing my duty. I’m obligated to protect this world."

As soon as he finished speaking, Silvanus raised his hand. His body began to glow, light radiating outward in blinding brilliance. Countless spears of pure light formed in the air, arranging themselves into a dense circle above—its radius spanning more than twenty meters. From below, they looked like a constellation of dazzling stars tearing apart the dark clouds.

[You can’t do this!]

The sight was eerily familiar—something that had been seen before, so familiar it was almost absurd.

He never did listen to his teachers.

The spears of light pierced through the cloud layers, each moving as if alive, relentlessly chasing down the monsters until no trace of their energy remained.

Silvanus looked down at his own hands. They were dissolving into glimmering motes of light—tiny particles drifting gently upward into the sky.

Suddenly, a pair of translucent golden wings unfurled behind him, wrapping around his body as if trying to hold those fading fragments of light in place.

He could faintly hear someone murmuring something, but his mind grew hazy—hazy and dim—until darkness swallowed everything.

Thump!

A sharp pain seized his heart, forcing Silvanus’s eyes open. The scene before him left him momentarily stunned as he blinked in confusion, glancing around.

The space was pitch-black—though it didn’t feel like darkness. It was more like a dense, impenetrable black substance.

Tiny dots of light, like distant stars, shimmered faintly in the distance, though their glow was entirely overshadowed by something far greater.

It looked like the hollow of a massive tree, its colossal roots spreading out in all directions. But compared to roots, they resembled veins—pulsing with life.

Their outlines glowed with radiant hues of blue and gold, mesmerizing and surreal. At the end of each root floated a sphere of energy, flickering and shimmering. A miniature universe unfolded within each one, filled with glittering constellations and a brilliant core that blazed like a supernova.

There were countless such energy spheres—some large, some small—each glowing in various colors, though most shone brilliantly.

Silvanus instinctively began to fly toward them, wanting to look closer.

The closer he got, the colder the air became. He could feel his movements slowing down, as though time around him was gradually freezing, threatening to stop him at any moment.

Even though he was still far from the tree, he could already sense its immense presence—its grandeur that dwarfed everything around it.

From this distance, he could finally see the massive trunk spreading upward, its branches stretching far and wide. Yet, there were no leaves upon them. The flower buds that adorned its limbs were motionless—showing no sign of ever blooming.

Looking down toward the roots, Silvanus noticed that the energy within most of the spheres was stagnant, unmoving. Only one small sphere pulsed with swirling energy, where darkness and light intertwined and clashed. Around it, many other spheres had turned gray, while many had become pitch black. Compared to the luminous ones, the dark spheres were few—but to Silvanus, they stood out like thorns stabbing into his eyes.

Knowledge surfaced from the depths of Silvanus’s memory. He didn’t need anyone to explain—he somehow knew it instinctively. This was the Cosmic Tree, the very one under his domain. It was the pillar of the Great World, drawing energy from countless more miniature worlds to sustain itself. In return, the stronger the pillar grew, the more those more miniature worlds flourished.

When a smaller world naturally reached its end, its sphere would turn gray—signifying completion—and another world would be born to take its place, maintaining the balance and natural cycle of the universe.

However, the black spheres represented the small worlds completely devoured by the Outer God. The darkness within them could directly corrupt The Cosmic Tree, eventually destroying it entirely and converting it into raw energy for the Outer God’s growth—allowing it to continue spreading its invasion to other Cosmic Trees.

Yet, it had not succeeded—because the Cosmic Tree was now frozen, its growth halted. Only one small world remained active: the one Gabriel had mentioned, which was said to contain the clue leading back to the God Nation. Even that world, however, was now under the Outer God’s assault.

"Because I couldn’t win... because I couldn’t protect my own Cosmic Tree... this is what everything has come to, isn’t it?" Silvanus murmured, not expecting anyone to answer.

He was utterly exhausted. When Nerio had coughed up blood, it hadn’t been an act.