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 moon hung high above the blood-soaked land, casting a pale glow on the battlefield. Kael stood at the heart of the city's noble district, surrounded by the finest warriors and elite guards the corrupt nobles could summon. Their armor glistened. Their enchanted weapons pulsed. Behind them, the nobles stood robed in pride and desperation, faces twisted in hatred and fear.

"He's just one man!" a noble spat. "He bleeds like the rest of us!"

"Then come and make me bleed," Kael's voice was low, calm—deafening in its confidence.

His sword found the throat of the first knight before their blade even left the sheath. Blood sprayed, painting the cobblestones red. He twisted, dodged a flurry of arrows, and hurled his blade like a javelin—impaling three enemies in a single, brutal strike. Before it even clanged to the ground, he was among them again, bare-handed, breaking bones and tearing limbs.

One by one, their elite magic fell apart. Lightning spells fizzled in the air, redirected by Kael's sheer presence. An ice wall rose—then shattered as Kael sprinted through it. He moved like a ghost in a storm, leaving only death in his wake.

Towering brutes with beastly augmentations charged him. Holy knights, corrupted but powerful, struck with burning swords. Kael staggered slightly as a blade pierced his side—but his eyes only glowed brighter.

It emerged from the shadows behind him, taking Kael's form. A flawless reflection, down to the cold smirk and bloodstained fists. But this time, it did something new.

One part became a wild, feral version of Kael—screaming with rage, eyes red, movements untamed. The other became sarcastic, eerily calm, mocking enemies as it fought with smooth, calculated strikes.

"Did you just swing that sword? Cute," the sarcastic mimic chuckled, backhanding a mage into a wall.

The feral mimic, meanwhile, tore through armored knights like paper, roaring with insane laughter, blood coating its hands and face.

Kael stood between the two halves of himself, his real self. The embodiment of divine justice. Silent. Focused. Divine.

"Fall back! Fall back! He's not human!"

"He was made by the gods—he's their wrath!"

Kael walked through fire, blades, and magic. The nobles' formations collapsed. Their banners fell.

The last of the nobles knelt, trembling, trying to crawl away as Kael towered over him.

"Please… please… we were only doing what we had to."

Kael didn't respond. His sword rose.

[System Notification: Divine Execution Complete.]

[Arc Completed: Wrath of Judgment.]

[Experience Points Gained: 9,400,000]

[New Passive Ability Unlocked: "Presence of the Condemned"]

[Mimic Upgrade: Subdivision - Sarcastic Echo and Savage Wrath unlocked]

Kael's eyes narrowed. He clenched his fist and looked toward the horizon, where new lands and new sins awaited.

The mimic—both halves—merged back, standing beside him like loyal shadows.

The Wrath of Judgment