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 battlefield beyond the city walls was coated in smoke and blood. The dead were piled among the shattered barricades. The weak screamed and scrambled for shelter while the privileged fled to their towers, clutching their riches like shields.

Kael stood alone at the edge of it all — cloaked not in armor but in resolve, his blade humming with power. Behind him, the mimic lay coiled on the ground, dormant and still. The nobles, hiding behind the thick stone walls, watched through enchanted crystals and enchanted mirrors, hoping to witness his death.

But instead, they saw something else.

The ground around Kael trembled. His eyes narrowed, locking on the monstrous tide approaching: ogres, behemoths, serpents with fangs long enough to pierce walls. A coordinated attack. Not a raid. A message.

Kael didn't run. He didn't flinch. He raised his blade.

And then… a shadow peeled itself off him.

Dark smoke leaked from Kael's back, winding upward like mist caught in a storm. It took shape, arms, legs, shoulders — until a figure stood beside him.

But this one shimmered unnaturally. Its eyes were glowing hollows. Its body flickered between reality and illusion. And yet, when Kael took a step forward, the mimic mirrored it. Not perfectly — but closely enough to strike fear into the hearts of those watching.

"The mimic… it's taking his form?" one noble gasped, watching from afar.

"No… it's become him," another muttered, gripping his goblet until it cracked.

Kael didn't look at the duplicate. He didn't need to.

So this is what you've learned, mimic. My fury is yours to wield now.

The horde came crashing forward — and Kael moved. Like a storm tearing through dry leaves, he swung his blade, cleaving three monsters in half with a single stroke. The mimic lunged beside him, its strikes unpredictable, savage, and spectral. Where Kael's strikes were precise, the mimic's were wild and primal.

Together, they carved a trench of corpses through the wave.

Ogres crumbled. Giant serpents coiled in agony. Mutated wolves scattered, shrieking. Arrows bounced off Kael's skin as if they struck a divine shield. His power was no longer human — it was god-touched.

The nobles watching, who had once laughed at his name, now felt the pressure in their chest.

He's not just strong. He's unstoppable.

Kael's blade pierced through the skull of a flame bear, and the mimic followed by gutting a three-headed lizard in a single upward slash. The battlefield became a symphony of pain and power. The weak who had once feared for their lives now stood frozen, tears in their eyes — for the first time in their lives, someone had fought for them.

Someone who didn't care for titles or bloodlines.

Someone who only knew right from wrong.

Kael stood amidst the carnage, blood-drenched, chest heaving.

His mimic wavered, its form crackling.

And then… it dissolved. The shadow peeled away and returned to his side like a cloak settling on his back.

He whispered, almost to himself, "You understand me better than most men ever will."

Far away, in a hidden room filled with robed figures and ancient maps, the nobles gathered. Faces pale. Pride shattered. Their finest warriors had failed. Their wards were crumbling. Their city was no longer theirs.

"The time for silence is over," the eldest noble said. "He's come to cleanse us. And he won't stop."

"Then we'll stop him," another hissed. "Together."

They drew their swords, placed their rings upon the war map, and began plotting. For the first time in generations, the nobles would fight as one — not for justice, but for survival.

The Second Kael