Although he’d already agreed to head to Baihe Star, Hexin wasn’t in any rush. Instead, he took the Sun City out for a casual spin around the Divine Domain.

Yes—Sun City could fly. And that alone made this character card feel like the ultimate flex: house? Check. Car? Check. Life? Won.

The gleaming golden city soared through the sky like a majestic flagship, gliding effortlessly over the landscape. Below, the gathered monsters hadn’t dispersed. They raised their heads to watch that radiant golden silhouette shrink into the distance—and yet, from their vantage point, it remained dazzlingly clear.

Ah… truly, the Sunwheel on Earth.

Those who couldn’t keep up eventually slowed to a halt, filled with confusion and yearning. They waited—proudly and patiently—for the Sun god to return.

But others—like the lion-shaped gate beasts, the Golden Butterfly King Flowers, the Primeval Anacondas—took off after the city without hesitation, sprinting across the endless land with heads lifted high.

Not one creature took flight.

Without exchanging a word, every species instinctively ceded the skies to the god’s procession.
Who had the right to fly beside the sun?
Any fool reckless enough to try would’ve been torn apart mid-air by the furious masses below, before they even made it off the ground.

Hexin, unaware of the beasts’ thoughts, simply blinked at the sight of all those winged creatures retracting their wings and landing as soon as his city lifted off.

He had to admit—it was a hell of a scene.
A stampede of divine beasts thundered beneath him, muscles coiled, fangs bared, wild and majestic beneath a storm of dust and sunfire.

He almost wanted to shout down, “Guys, no need to chase me! I’m just circling the block—I’m not gonna disappear for ten thousand years or anything!”
But judging by how amped they looked, that probably wouldn’t help.

Of course, it did occur to him that letting them inside the Sun City might be a good idea. The place was more than spacious enough to hold the lot of them. Plus, a few of those creatures were absolutely his aesthetic—equal parts badass and adorable. He had this deep, feral urge to grab one by its big, fuzzy head and pet it senseless.

But that thought wavered the second he saw Xia Ze inside the city.

The warrior from Baihe Star had dropped to his knees the moment he stepped through the gates.

Hexin: …Ah. No. Really, no need to kneel like that.

Then he realized—maybe the guy hadn’t meant to kneel.
He’d barely even made it past the threshold. Still a long way from the throne.
He was probably just… too overwhelmed to stand properly.

Xia Ze’s throat tightened with embarrassment. The ground felt like clouds beneath his feet—slick and smooth, made of some unknown celestial material he didn’t dare press his full weight onto. When he tried to steady himself with his hands, his sweaty palms slipped immediately, and he quickly wiped them on his dusty uniform with trembling fingers.

Ah. Now that he thought about it—
He finally realized what was bothering him.

Forget the mortal peril, forget the near-death journey.

His clothes… were filthy.

His combat uniform was worn to shreds, coated in ash and grime. And here he was, in this state, standing before the divine.

Xia Ze: …

He was dead. He’d never live this down.

This man who had survived war, who treated battlefield explosions like morning coffee, was, for the first time in his life, genuinely horrified at himself. Mortified. Regretful. He wanted to bash his chest and cough up blood in shame. All he wanted now was one—just one—chance to clean himself up.

But there was no time.

Dead inside, he forced himself to rise and stumble forward until he stood before the throne. He dropped to one knee and bowed his head low.

“To appear before you in this state is an unforgivable offense.
Xia Ze of Baihe Star offers his deepest respects to the Supreme Sun god.”

The moment after he spoke felt like the longest second of his life.

Anxious. Hopeful. Terrified.

And then—he saw the god rise from the throne and walk toward him.

Xia Ze held his breath.

“You have shown me where to go. That makes you my anchor in the mortal world.
There’s no need for such formality—stand.”
Hexin paused, his gaze falling on Xia Ze’s hair whorl, his smile widening with amusement.
“After all, it looks like we’ll be spending quite a bit of time together.
You’ll need to get used to it.”

Calm? No way. Xia Ze’s body obeyed purely out of reflex. He lifted his head.

And for the first time, he saw the god’s face—up close.

—How to describe it…

Flawless. Unblemished. A beautiful youth with a faint smile, composed and radiant in every line of his face.
Those golden eyes shimmered like the sun itself was trapped inside them—brilliant, soul-stirring.
To look upon him was to see the rising sun, painting the world in light.
Mountains, seas, and skies—everything bowed to that brilliance.

—Yes. Of course. This was the sun the world followed.

Hexin, watching the stunned expression on the warrior’s face, gave an understanding nod.

Ah, he thought. That’s the power of being the poster boy on all the promo materials.

After cruising Sun City around for a full lap, Hexin was finally sure—the Divine Domain matched the god of gods set down to the last detail.

He even spotted a few familiar landmarks:
To the southeast, a bizarre, jagged cliff favoured by forest- and nature-aligned gods. In the series lore, it was where many mid-tier sub-deities made their homes.
To the far north, a vast sea—the territory of all water-based monsters. The waves there howled and crashed almost daily.

Some regions—the deep forests, the snowfields, the deserts—that should’ve been part of the Divine Domain, Hexin didn’t see.
But based on the geography, he could more or less guess where they used to be.

Thinking about it now, the Divine Domain must have been a lively, sprawling place at its height.
Various races, monsters, and subordinate deities had all staked out their territories, shaping their lands however they pleased. Occasional clashes were inevitable, but usually resolved without much trouble. The only untouchable line was anything involving the Supreme gods they followed—on that, there was no compromise.

But now…

He looked out over the silent, barren land and remembered that the Divine Domain had once been a sacred meeting ground for followers from across the stars. The thought made him sigh—and jot down “Divine Domain Revival Plan” in the mental notebook he was keeping.

Beside him, Xia Ze quietly observed the golden god.

Hexin stood gazing across the vast, desolate expanse. His luminous eyes seemed to cut through space and time, reaching toward a far-off, unseen horizon.

…Was he remembering the past?

Xia Ze couldn’t imagine what the Divine Domain used to look like—just as no one had ever managed to truly capture the full scope of Sun City.
Some things… if you don’t witness them yourself, you’ll never understand how small you truly are.

“They’ll come back.”

Xia Ze hadn’t meant to speak, but just a glimpse of emotion on the god’s face stirred a desperate need in him to say something—anything.

“According to the records, the creatures of the Divine Domain only left because the Supreme gods vanished ten thousand years ago. They went out searching for them.”

“If they know you’ve returned… they’ll come back. No question.”

Hexin: I know you’re trying to comfort me, but…

“…Honestly, I kinda hope they take their time.”

Because now I’m the one holding the entire universe’s emotional baggage. (weeps in godhood)

---

After surveying the Divine Domain and calming the many beasts within it, Hexin set off for Baihe Star—taking Xia Ze with him.

According to Xia Ze, the Divine Domain existed in a pocket dimension, and its entrance coordinates constantly shifted. It had taken Baihe Star years just to predict its next location.

And because Baihe Star was poor and remote, they lacked both money and talent. The major planets couldn’t even be bothered to send policy support—considering the whole endeavour a pipe dream. After all, even some Imperial-grade planets had failed to open the gates of the Divine Domain.

For context: Imperial-grade planets were the most powerful in the universe, ruling over entire star systems. They sat at the very peak of the cosmic hierarchy.

“I piloted a ship solo for five months,” Xia Ze explained matter-of-factly, like a rookie soldier reporting to his superior.
“Crossed three wormholes, performed twenty-four jumps. Ran into space pirates, Zerg swarms, and exiles. At one point, I even drifted into a war zone between two high-tier planets.
Eventually, a cosmic storm hit. My ship suffered fatal damage. I ejected in an escape pod. I think I was struck during descent, blacked out, and when I woke up… I was in the Divine Domain.”

As Xia Ze laid out his journey, Hexin listened silently—already piecing together what it meant.
Had Xia Ze not encountered him, the man would’ve had no way home.
A warrior alone, no ship, stranded in a world crawling with ancient beasts.
He would’ve died there. Or worse—vanished, forgotten.

Hexin sighed.

“You’re a warrior worthy of respect.”

Big respect. Big call.

Hexin thought he’d been subtle enough, especially given his current divine status. But he clearly underestimated what it meant to hear those words from a god.

Xia Ze froze. Then his eyes reddened.

“Thank you!!” he cried.
“The last person who ever heard those words… their legend made it into the mythologies of the god Era!
There are multiple versions of their personal biography!
I’m not anywhere near that level, but hearing it from you—I—I’m just so honoured!!”

Hexin flipped through the mental “script” of the Sun god and realized… yeah, he had handed out that line to just about anyone he took a liking to.
No clue who Xia Ze was talking about.

But that didn’t matter. What mattered was—they had arrived.

The journey that had taken Xia Ze months of hardship… passed in an instant aboard Sun City, where “what the god wills, is.”

It was like a gust of wind, and then—before them floated a small, blue-and-white planet.

Hexin had gone out of his way to keep their movements hidden. And now, he wasn’t about to go announcing their arrival either. He guided Sun City to accelerate and silently plunged them into the atmosphere.

Xia Ze, holding his comms—now finally restored thanks to leaving the Divine Domain—had just reconnected with his people. Hexin gave a nod, granting him permission.

“I’ve left the Divine Domain,” Xia Ze said into the receiver.
“I’m en route back to Baihe Star.”

“You’re alive?! Thank the stars! The return trip takes four months, do you have enough fuel?”

“No…”

“What?! You don’t?!”

“No, I mean—”
“I’m already here.”