Arknightcraft Modpack
Chapter 498: Stingy
The pitch-black void that had abruptly appeared beneath the dead infant's feet was, naturally, a little "gift" Steven had prepared just for it.
Opening a black hole proactively and trying to lure an opponent into it wasn't exactly easy.
But placing one directly at the point where this thing was already falling?
That, Steven could do.
With its massive body came equally massive momentum. And in a situation where there was absolutely nothing to push off of, breaking free from the pull of a black hole was no simple task.
Of course, Steven never planned on using the black hole to straight-up one-shot this so-called god.
He wasn't trying to consume the god, he was exploiting the black hole's teleportation property.
Hurting gods that effectively functioned like Creative Mode entities without using commands was never easy. Doing so on their home turf, with the intent to kill them outright, made it even worse.
Even for him, the current viable methods were extremely limited, most of them relying on high-tier mods. Unfortunately, his current point total didn't allow him to activate any of those.
Thankfully, even vanilla Minecraft wasn't completely lacking in god-slaying mechanics.
The most classic one of all—
Falling into the Void.
Even a Minecrafter himself couldn't tank that in Creative Mode.
And conveniently enough, while this world differed structurally from Minecraft's, Steven could still teleport to its boundary—the place connected to that very Void.
By directly setting the black hole's teleport destination to the Void, Steven seized the moment when the dead infant sensed the danger emanating from below. He decisively wrenched himself free, tearing away from the hand that had been gripping him tightly.
The black hole itself didn't affect him.
But Void damage?
Yeah, he definitely wasn't immune to that.
Sure, as long as you could fly, falling into the Void wasn't immediately fatal. You wouldn't take damage until reaching a certain depth. Still, he had zero interest in accompanying this thing on a sightseeing tour of oblivion.
The dead infant realized it too.
No matter what, it absolutely could not continue falling.
At this point, it had no mental bandwidth left to question why its Authority had failed against this human. Its pale, bloated body thrashed wildly in midair, desperately trying to grab onto anything that might slow its descent.
From its flesh extended several rope-like strands of meat, stretching frantically toward the surrounding land, attempting to forcibly drag its body back up.
Steven didn't just stand by and watch.
He briskly flipped the lever on the belt around his waist. As cheerful music rang out, constellation-like energy rapidly gathered around the tip of his foot.
Then, he launched himself forward.
Like a living artillery shell, the Minecrafter flew straight at the struggling dead infant and unleashed a brutal Rider Kick. Explosions erupted at the point of impact, and a small black hole formed on the monster's body, forcibly yanking all those extended flesh-tendrils back in.
Thanks to that kick, the dead infant's fall accelerated even further.
At this moment, the thing probably regretted one specific detail more than anything else—
Why did it, like that eternally memed divine beast, completely lack the ability to fly?
Steven's Rider Kick didn't deal particularly heavy damage to the dead infant.
But to its desperate attempt at saving itself?
It was nothing short of fatal.
The massive body was completely swallowed by the darkness.
As if crossing some eerie boundary, the dead infant felt, the instant it entered the Void, that it had been severed from the world itself. None of its abilities responded to its call. Even its Authority—the very power that defined it as a god—had lost all effect here.
All it could do now was continue falling into a darkness that seemed to have no end.
Echoing in that endless void was the human voice, thick with mockery.
"Ciao~"
As Steven waved at it—almost like a cheeky farewell confession—the passage that still connected to the snowfield snapped shut. Every last trace of light vanished from the dead infant's eyes. Beyond the darkness, there was only boundless nothingness.
And in the very next second, its consciousness was swallowed as well.
No scream.
No struggle.
It simply dissolved into the void, becoming one with the infinite darkness.
. . .
Ding!
[The Resentful God of Dead Waters has been defeated.]
[World Acknowledgement Points +1,500,000]
[Some vengeful spirits of the Ursus Snowfield have been released.]
[Your act of slaying a god will be sung among all Feranmut and deities…]
Like clearing the final raid boss on a god-tier server, system notifications flooded the Minecrafter chat window. As the announcement-like message went out, the boss health bar in his vision finally shattered into fragments.
Below him, the churning swamp began to boil as if fully cooked. The foul-smelling sludge rolled violently—but this time, as the bubbles burst, countless vengeful spirits emerged alongside them.
As though finally freed, their faces were calm and peaceful. They turned into specks of golden light and quietly dispersed into the heavens.
Steven, having finished everything, leaned heavily on Yamato—now reduced to a broken blade—and panted. Honestly speaking, taking on a god like this without commands or Creative Mode really was pushing himself.
This victory owed a lot to how absurdly well their compatibilities matched. The opponent was countered by him in almost every possible way, on top of underestimating him and being unfamiliar with his abilities. That was the only reason Steven had managed to win—barely.
Against a different god?
He wasn't confident he could pull this off again.
Still, that very struggle brought back a familiar thrill—the same feeling he'd had back when he faced the Elite Mob of the various Minecraft Mods.
Back then, too, he'd relied on no commands. Only the item he'd earned through sheer effort, a chain of coincidences, and relentless persistence—step by step, dragging down those strong beings until their health bar turns zero .
"…Hah. It's been years since I last felt tired," Steven muttered with a small smile.
"Man, that really takes me back."
He removed the Evol Driver from his waist and deactivated his transformation. Only then did he bother glancing at the still-spamming chat window.
The kill announcement confirmed his hypothesis: even these so called 'gods' could be slain by the Void.
Still, when he saw the reward—
Just this many World Acknowledgement Points?
Steven couldn't help but feel a little annoyed.
Sure, the whole thing had fallen into the Void, so expecting loot drops was unrealistic. But come on—it was still a god. A weak one, maybe, but shouldn't there be something extra?
Otherwise… wasn't this a bit too stingy?
As for the announcement that followed—clearly implying that his existence would now be known to other gods and Feranmut—Steven couldn't have cared less.
If anything, he welcomed it.
He'd love nothing more than for those guys to come knocking on his door looking for trouble. Why would he be afraid of that?
"Tch… some 'world will,' huh," Steven muttered under his breath.
"Being this stingy—what, are you running some kind of mom-and-pop operation?"
No sooner had he finished complaining about Hypergryph's cheapness than he finally caught his breath and straightened up—
Only to realize that the very target of his grumbling was now standing quietly beside him.
The girl wore a strange mask shaped like an eagle's head crowned with deer antlers. She glanced sideways at the Minecrafter, her eyes—cold, mechanical, and utterly devoid of emotion—turning ever so slightly. That minute movement seemed to be the full extent of her emotional expression.
"I had anticipated the day you would face a god directly," she said.
"But I did not expect it to arrive so soon."
Her voice was the same as ever: flat, synthesized, impossible to tell whether it belonged to a man or a woman, young or old.
Hypergryph extended her hand toward the Minecrafter. Resting in her palm was a bamboo-like object—or rather, a bead—emanating an eerie gray-white aura.
"This is your reward, as one who plucks the strings of fate," she continued.
"But there will not be a next time."
Without waiting for the Minecrafter's response, Hypergryph withdrew her hand. The gray-white bead remained floating in midair, and in the next moment, her figure dissolved into a gentle breeze—vanishing just as suddenly and silently as she had appeared.
Steven finally snapped out of her riddle-filled speech.
The corners of his mouth curled into an amused smile, as if he'd just figured something out.
"So that's how it is…"
Turns out she really was the type who wouldn't move unless someone complained. He'd barely finished criticizing the boss drop rate, and she'd immediately shown up to hand out compensation.
And that deliberate add-on—there will not be a next time—somehow made it feel even more like a tsundere girl.
Steven raised an eyebrow, shaking his head as he casually reached out and took the floating gray-white bead into his hand.
[Authority: Corrosion]
Just two simple words.
No extra description.
No explanatory notes.
Yet the ominous aura radiating from the bead alone was more than enough to prove its worth.
And at that moment, only a single thought remained in Steven's mind—
Let's farm this thing.
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Note: Character Illustration is in this Google Drive:
https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1iuyfwNVFHzIi9H4rWNT_lAm7jTSiah_M