[Blessing of Anti-Malignance] — He has complete immunity against magical buffs, magical debuffs, Curse Arts, and Miasma. No external magical influence, whether beneficial or harmful, can alter his state without his explicit consent. He exists outside the reach of any enchantment or curse that attempts to modify who and what he is.
[Blessing of the Phoenix] — Upon death, he is granted a one-time resurrection so long as his soul remains intact. His body is resurrected and cleansed of all negative effects, returning him to his peak condition. While this blessing can only be used once and he cannot receive the same benefit a second time, upon its activation, he will immediately acquire a new blessing with an identical effect—Blessing of the Phoenix: Next. And if that blessing is used, he will acquire Blessing of the Phoenix: Next Next. And so on, endlessly, in an infinite chain of resurrection that has no upper limit and no final iteration, because the world simply will not let him die.
[Blessing of the Immortal Phoenix] — Grants him immortality on the same level as the phoenix itself. His regeneration speed and his ability to go through rebirth rival that of the legendary bird in every aspect. So long as his soul isn't destroyed and he has access to mana, he cannot die. His body will reconstruct itself from any level of destruction, reforming from nothing if necessary, fueled by the ambient mana his physique naturally absorbs.
[Blessing of the True Phoenix] — Makes his soul immortal.
[Blessing of the God Slayer] — Allows him to kill gods. Even killing their avatars—mere projections of their true selves sent down to the mortal plane—would lead to the god's main body suffering massive damage that could cripple them depending on how much of their power had been invested in the avatar. The stronger the avatar, the greater the backlash to the original. A god who sent a powerful avatar and had it slain by Reinhard would feel the consequences for centuries.
[Blessing of the Blue Skies] — He becomes stronger when under blue skies.
[Blessing of Teary Skies] — He becomes stronger when under rainy skies.
[Blessing of New Skies] — He becomes stronger when under the morning sky.
[Blessing of Night Skies] — He becomes stronger when under the night sky.
[Blessing of Stormy Skies] — He becomes stronger when under stormy skies.
[Blessing of the Rising Sun] — He becomes stronger as the sun rises, reaching a peak at noon.
[Blessing of the Falling Sun] — He becomes stronger as the sun sets, hitting a peak as the sun disappears over the horizon.
[Blessing of the Rising Moon] — He becomes stronger as the moon rises, reaching a peak at lunar zenith.
[Blessing of the Falling Moon] — He becomes stronger as the moon sets, reaching a peak when the moon can no longer be seen over the horizon.
[Blessing of the Shifting Moon] — He becomes stronger under each phase of the moon, reaching a peak at a full moon.
[Blessing of Combat] — He grows stronger the more he fights. The strength gained through battle doesn't disappear even after the fight is over; it becomes a permanent part of him, compounding with every encounter.
[Blessing of Rest] — He grows stronger from doing nothing. The strength gains accumulated during periods of inactivity don't fade and become permanently his own.
The list went on and on, stretching far beyond what could be reasonably cataloged in a single moment. There were hundreds of blessings—far too many to count, far too many to even process individually.
It was as if the world itself was furious, enraged beyond measure that the magic circle had dared to sever the connection between it and Reinhard, cutting off its ability to protect and nurture its most beloved child.
And in retaliation for that offense, the world was now flooding Reinhard with every blessing it could conceive of, pouring them into him in an endless torrent. He didn't even need most of them right now—many were redundant, many covered situations he wasn't currently facing—but the world didn't care about efficiency. It cared about ensuring that nothing like this would ever happen to Reinhard again, and it was willing to bury him under a mountain of divine protections to guarantee that.
The god of war watched the playback of what had happened in those critical seconds. The billions of arrows he had launched toward Reinhard—each one carrying enough divine power to annihilate a city—curved away from him mid-flight, altering their trajectories on their own to avoid making contact, as though the projectiles themselves recognized that striking Reinhard was not something they were permitted to do.
The spear he had launched toward Reinhard—the spear of the god of wisdom that rewrote cause and effect to guarantee a hit—had indeed reached its target. Causality ensured that it struck, because causality could not be denied.
But the moment it made contact with Reinhard's body, it bounced off him as though it had struck an immovable wall, the divine weapon ricocheting away without leaving so much as a mark on his skin.
The mountain-sized sword had fallen on him as well, crashing down with the weight and force of a collapsing mountain, enough raw destructive power to reshape the geography of an entire continent. It hit him directly, and it did zero damage. Reinhard had simply sighed while getting up from where he lay, brushing the dust from his coat as though he had been mildly inconvenienced by a falling leaf.
It was then that the god of war shifted his vision back to the current moment, the playback fading from his glowing eyes as the present reasserted itself. He swallowed his saliva, his throat dry and tight, as he recalled the sensation from the instant he had stabbed Reinhard with his spear.
He had felt resistance—a tremendous, unyielding resistance, as though he had pierced through armor far denser and far more durable than anything physical. Reinhard's entire shoulder, on a conceptual level and in every other sense, should have exploded from that attack.
The divine spear carried enough force and enough conceptual weight to unmake matter at a fundamental level. But instead, it was as if Reinhard had only been faced with a normal spear attack—a mundane thrust from a common weapon.
'He has a conceptual armor?' He thought, gritting his teeth as the implications settled in. If he were here in his true form, his actual divine body rather than this limited avatar, he could have easily read all of Reinhard's information down to the finest detail.
But the avatar's perceptive abilities were restricted, and on top of that, Reinhard had something actively shielding him from having his capabilities read—a layer of protection that blurred and obscured the details whenever the god of war tried to analyze him.
Still, with the information he had just gathered from observing the battle and replaying the past, he had pieced together a good understanding of what Reinhard's defensive ability actually was.
'His skin functions like an armor that nullifies all attacks below a certain threshold. If an attack is powerful enough to break past that threshold, although it could technically breach his defense, it then has to deal with Reinhard's stupidly high resistances on the other side. Resistances that are only further increased by his blessings on top of everything else…' The god of war gritted his teeth harder, the muscles in his jaw bulging as he forced his avatar's limited analytical abilities to calculate just how much resistance Reinhard currently possessed.
'99.999999983616%...' He froze on the spot. His mind went blank for a moment as he stared at the number, unable to process a resistance value that absurd. It was so close to absolute immunity that the difference was essentially meaningless in any practical scenario.
What made it even more insane was that Reinhard didn't need individual blessings to give him eighty percent resistance toward a specific element. He just needed all six types of resistance blessings for that element, and the system took care of the rest.
For example, for fire alone, Reinhard possessed the Blessing of Fire Avoidance, the Blessing of the Fire Fan, the Blessing of Weak Fire, the Blessing of Fire Absorption, the Blessing of Fire Nullification, and the Blessing of Fire Disentanglement.
These six blessings each gave Reinhard eighty percent resistance toward fire, but each one operated in its own unique way. Some outright nullified eighty percent of the incoming damage, preventing it from ever reaching him. Others reflected eighty percent of the damage back toward the attacker. Others absorbed the energy into his body. Others redirected it to a different target entirely. Each one layered on top of the others, stacking in ways that pushed his effective resistance into the realm of near-total immunity.
And then his conceptual armor took all of that and elevated it further, converting those six types of blessings into something conceptual in nature. Meaning, the resistance wasn't just physical or magical anymore—it existed on a conceptual level, protecting him against the very idea of damage rather than just the fire itself.
This meant he didn't technically need separate blessings for every individual element in existence. The conceptual conversion covered them all. But he had them anyway—the world had given him blessings for every element regardless—though they were functionally redundant and added nothing that his conceptual armor wasn't already providing.
So at this moment, Reinhard could endure all forms of damage—magical, conceptual, physical, spiritual, temporal, and everything in between. Swords, bullets, spells, curses, divine attacks, reality-warping abilities—all of them fell under the umbrella of his defense.
Even if an attack was powerful enough to bypass his conceptual armor entirely, which was already an achievement that virtually nothing in this world could claim, the attacker then had to contend with the 99.999999983616% resistance waiting on the other side. The amount of power that would actually reach Reinhard's body after penetrating both layers of defense was so infinitesimally small that it bordered on nonexistent.
And then there was the fact that Reinhard's natural resistance toward magic was already stupidly high without the conceptual armor or any blessings factored in at all. His base physique—his mana-absorbing body, his dragon-god heritage, his adaptation-enhanced durability—provided enough resistance on its own that he could stand directly before a ninth-tier spell, the absolute pinnacle of magical destruction that this world could produce, and without the conceptual armor, without the blessings, without any of the additional layers of protection the world had piled onto him, he would still walk away without a single injury. That was his baseline. Everything else was just extra.
The god of war had never known fear in his entire existence. What could someone like him possibly fear? He was the divine embodiment of conflict itself, the ultimate warrior across all realms and all realities. Nothing in creation was capable of making him feel afraid. Nothing had ever shaken his confidence or caused him to question whether he could emerge victorious from a battle… That was true for the sole exception of Reinhard Pendragon, of course.
Seeing the thing standing before him, the being that called itself human, the god of war refused to believe it. This was no human. No human had ever existed that looked like this, fought like this, endured like this.
This was a being at the peak of the eighth rank who was willingly holding back to fight opponents on their own level, treating the battle as a test rather than a threat. Even then, even with every advantage stacked in their favor—the magic circle, the debuffs, two divine avatars, they had been forced to wait for Reinhard to weaken himself with his own attack before they even had a chance of landing a meaningful blow. And it still wasn't enough.
They had thrown everything they had at him, and the sum total of their efforts amounted to a single shoulder wound that had already healed.
"My body can't handle the full capability of my own skills," Reinhard said softly, his voice carrying a note of quiet frustration that had nothing to do with his opponents and everything to do with himself.
He hadn't even felt the spear, the mountain-sized sword, or the arrow. His mind had been elsewhere during all of it, focused on a problem that concerned him far more than anything the god of war could throw at him.
He would have lost just a moment ago—not to the god of war, not to the bombardment, not to any external force—but due to the fact that his body couldn't handle the power he had unleashed with his full-strength swing. The strain of channeling his complete swordsmanship through a body that wasn't yet strong enough to contain it had nearly torn him apart from the inside.
It was the same problem he faced with every weapon he picked up. Just as all weapons broke in his hands when he tried to show his true skills—shattering under the weight of a mastery they weren't built to express—his own body broke when he pushed himself to his limits.
His vessel was cracking under the pressure of the existence it housed, unable to keep pace with the growth of his technique. He shook his head, filing the problem away as something he would need to address through further training and adaptation.
Even in his current state, weakened and frustrated with his own limitations, he was more than enough to kill this god's avatar. As for the fact that the hundred-times debuff he had been operating under throughout most of the battle had disappeared—he didn't really care about that one way or another. It had been an inconvenience, nothing more.
He was just disappointed that he had gotten injured by someone this weak. Even if the reason behind it was because he was too powerful for his own body to contain—even if the opening that allowed the god of war's spear to reach him had only existed because Reinhard's own strength had momentarily exceeded what his physical form could sustain—it was still a failure in his eyes. He had been hurt, and the one who hurt him wasn't worthy of that distinction.
Reinhard stepped forward to kill the god of war, closing the distance with a calm stride that carried more menace than any charge ever could. But the god of war quickly scrambled backward, retreating with a desperation that stripped away every shred of divine dignity he had left.
He couldn't help it—every instinct in his immortal body was screaming at him to flee from this man, to put as much distance between himself and the thing walking toward him as physically possible. Fear, raw and primal and completely alien to a being who was supposed to embody the very concept of war, had seized control of him entirely.
"A god of war… how laughable," Reinhard said while unsheathing his sword, the blade of primordial chaos sliding free from its scabbard with a sound that resonated through the air like a death knell. He held the sword up, positioning it for a single, definitive swing—one strike to end this farce once and for all.
"Everything you thought you were… I am." With those words hanging in the air between them, the god of war's composure shattered completely. Whatever remained of his pride, whatever fragment of divine courage he had been clinging to, dissolved in the face of that simple, devastating declaration.
He turned to flee while screaming for his life in undisguised fear, abandoning the battlefield entirely, he forgot he could fly and ran like a mortal, tripping over himself in fear... but the attack never came.
[A/N: MC now grows stronger from purely being under the sky. The strength gain doesn't disappear,
MC pretty much has layers of resistance. The blessing, conceptual armor, and his natural resistances. This doesn't take into account adaptation. In total, MC has 99.99999999999999999999999999956%. That's a large number, but pretty much, if this were a game, and MC only had 1 HP, an attacks need to do over 200 octillion damage to do any damage to MC.
The spear thrown at MC didn't affect MC, as his conceptual armor canceled out the spear's ability to rewrite cause and effect.
The only reason the first spear from the god of war harmed MC is... well, they saw the future, although they couldn't see the future well, they were able to aim for that moment of weakness where MC was facing that backlash, that backlash was so vast that his resistances were turned into nothing. Naturally, MC was in great pain, but he is Reinhard, what is pain to him?]