Ghostlywatcher

Kael was never meant to be a hero. Bullied, broken, and betrayed by the world, the 95 kg high school shut-in had nothing—no friends, no purpose, just scars hidden beneath his hoodie. But when the world begins to collapse into chaos, and God Himself unleashes judgment upon a sinful humanity through monstrous ancient beasts and divine reckoning, Kael is chosen.

Why?
Because even when the world was cruel, Kael remained righteous.

Gifted with Divine Echo, an S-rank ability that removes all limitations from any power he uses, Kael begins a transformation—both physical and spiritual. From obsessive training and relentless self-discipline, he sculpts his body into a weapon. From heartbreak and trauma, he forges a mind sharper than any blade. And from isolation, he builds resolve—unshakable and merciless.

But this is no fairytale redemption.
Kael isn’t here to save the world.
He’s here to survive it.

With humanity collapsing, safe zones crumbling, and ancient predators ruling the Earth, Kael must lead, fight, and manipulate his way through a new reality—one where power is truth and morality is a luxury.

He’s no longer the boy others could ignore.
He’s the ghost in the fog.
The saint with bloodstained hands.
The one whose echo will never fade.

Saint:My Daily Routine Became My Superpower

The blood of the lab sinners had long dried on Kael's cloak, but their screams still echoed in the silence they left behind. The girl—once a tool of their experiments, now a survivor—rested beside the broken remains of their bunker, her breathing steady as she lay unconscious. Above them, crows circled, as if bearing witness to the judgment that had been carried out.

Kael stood unmoving, staring into the horizon. His ghost veil flickered faintly in the moonlight, hiding his expression from the girl and the world alike.

> "A city... forgotten by justice, ruled by cruelty. The strong exploit the weak. Slavery. Torture. Bloodsport. All for power, all without consequence. Their cries reach the heavens."

Kael's eyes narrowed. His fists clenched.

> "The city is called Velhym. The wicked call it a haven. I call it a pit. You will go there, and you will bring my judgment."

"Understood," Kael said coldly. No hesitation.

The wind picked up, scattering ash from the destroyed facility behind him. He turned to the girl. She stirred, her eyes fluttering open. When she saw Kael, she didn't scream. She sat up slowly.

"Are they... gone?" she asked, her voice hollow.

She stared at her chimera limbs—beastly claws and mechanical joints—and her eyes welled up. "Am I?"

"You're not a weapon anymore. You're someone who survived."

She said nothing for a long while. Then she looked at him again. "Where will you go?"

Kael's gaze turned toward the dark line of the horizon.

"A city where monsters wear human skin."

Elsewhere – Velhym, the City of Wolves

In Velhym, there was no law, only hierarchy. Gladiator pits spilled with blood while nobles drank wine. Captives were chained in the streets like ornaments. Screams of the powerless went ignored—no, celebrated.

And atop the steel towers, the rulers watched. A coalition of elite mercenaries, brutal enforcers, and rich sadists. To them, power was truth. Morality was weakness.

But they had heard whispers. A figure in black, soaked in blood. A name—Kael—was beginning to spread like wildfire across outlaw channels and black market forums.

Until the Veil moved into the city unnoticed.

Mandate of the Chosen: City of Wolves