Extra's Harem: Invincibility Starts with Marriage and lots of Children-Chapter 162- Miracle

"Please forgive me, my goddess—I mean, God," the head priest pleaded, head lowered and body flat against the grass. His eyes were wide, almost popping out of their sockets as he trembled—not from fear, but reverence.

Despite his age, his body looked younger and healthier than ever, as if blessed just by being in the presence of the man seated calmly on the rock before him.

"Hm, forgiveness accepted," Kyle said casually, lounging on the rock as he snapped his fingers. His gaze shifted to the younger priest nearby, who was bowed at a perfect ninety-degree angle but lacked the trembling devotion of the elder. It was understandable.

The boy had yet to witness a true miracle performed by the so-called 'healing god'—the divine scammer himself.

"Oh, Divine Being, I am truly grateful for the mercy you've shown this humble soul. I beg you to extend your forgiveness to my grandson as well—forgive his prideful heart." The old priest's forehead remained pressed firmly against the rough garden floor as he spoke, having already scolded the younger man for not showing enough reverence before the one who knew the secret that none dared to speak aloud.

There was a reason the old man believed in the goddess Agasthasa—because he had met her once. Or so he claimed. She had appeared in his dream, blessing him with wisdom and instructing him on how to pray and channel her power.

It hadn't been easy convincing others to follow her, but he had devoted his entire life to it. Ever since that one incident in his youth—when a whispered prayer had miraculously healed his wounds—his faith had remained unshakable.

"Ermis," Kyle said calmly, "Let me clear up a little misunderstanding. You've assumed I am a goddess simply because of my previous birth."

He needed to sever the divine link Agasthasa had planted in this world through Ermis. That connection—one of her rare, unique abilities—allowed her power to grow stronger with each faithful worshipper. The more sincere their devotion, the greater her strength.

Kyle couldn't allow that.

Rather than building a following for her, he'd redirect that faith toward himself. If the day ever came when he met Agasthasa again, he might have enough leverage—perhaps to strike a deal… like trading divine energy for something ludicrous, like marrying him.

The world was massive, and so were his ambitions.

For now, though, stuck in the Ninth Realm—the lowest of them all—he would remain quiet. Slowly, subtly, he'd begin a side quest: cultivating his own followers.

"Oh, I see now!" Ermis lifted his head, eyes bright with epiphany, hands clasped in devout prayer. "The divine being I saw in my dream was your past self—now reborn as a man. How majestic, how profound! A god who has lived both lives, experienced both yin and yang!"

That settled his doubts.

Why had Kyle Arcutus, prince of the Arcutus family and husband of Princess Aleriana, been revealed as the divine one instead of some ancient goddess?

Now it made perfect sense: the goddess had been reborn as a man—and that man was Kyle Arcutus.

"Yes, yes, you got it absolutely right," Kyle said, forcing a crooked smile as he looked down at the old priest—whose one foot already flirted with the grave.

In the original story, this unassuming man, through relentless prayers and clever tactics, became the cornerstone of Agasthasa's faith.

He turned a whisper of belief into a dominant religion, even in a realm that barely acknowledged the divine.

Here, in a world where cultivators scoffed at gods—dismissing them as just immortals from the upper realms—and mortals worshipped anything stronger than themselves, the very idea of a "god" was controversial.

Yet Ermis had done the impossible.

He'd dragged belief by its roots, planted it in the capital, and watered it until it bloomed into a full-blown monastery.

His marketing of faith was so aggressive that even weddings needed his priests' blessings.

The man was, in short, a spiritual salesman with numbers to show.

Who better, then, to manage Kyle's little side quest?

"It's your blessing that I have such a mind, my lord," Ermis said, eyes squeezed shut with age, his voice cracked but warm. For him, this was the climax of a lifetime.

To see the divine being—his god—here, now, in flesh and blood, crimson and gold shining in his gaze... it made every scar, every sermon, worth it.

"Nah, you were just born with that mind, Ermis." Kyle waved him off, shaking his head. "First rule of my religion—use logic."

He wasn't joking either. He had no plans of getting discredited by some high-tier cultivator a few centuries down the line.

He needed a belief system with enough scientific coating that no one could poke holes in it—at least, not easily.

"But... but you control birth," Ermis offered hesitantly.

"Blah blah," Kyle cut him off with a hand wave, clearly not in the mood to get dragged into theological gymnastics.

At that moment, it looked like two con artists were having a casual meeting to compare notes on their respective scams.

'Kyle—n-no, husband...' Aleriana stood on the side, her lip twitching as she watched the man she married talk utter nonsense with a straight face. Gravity? Round world? A fetus breathing no air in the womb? It sounded less like holy wisdom and more like someone reading rejected slam poetry.

> A child in the womb breathes no air, yet lives—

Why must a mortal bow to one who simply flies?

"The wisdom of words!" Ermis gasped, slamming his forehead against the earth. A gesture of absolute reverence. The kind reserved for divine truth.

Aleriana could only stare blankly. Cultivators were born of women too. Holding their breath in the womb was common sense, not revelation. And gravity? It wasn't unknown. Iron, minerals, wheels—all of it hinted at it. Why were these mortals acting like he'd dropped the secrets of heaven?

"What NONSENSE!" The shout rang sharp and loud.

The younger priest finally snapped, his eyes reddened with fury.

The sight of his respected grandfather bowing to a cat earlier had already shaken him, and now here he was—bending again before a young man barely older than himself.

All this for what? Some vague claim about reincarnation and godhood?

He couldn't take it anymore.

The old man—his own blood—was being scammed. And he, forced to bow before that same scammer, had kept quiet only because of Princess Aleriana's presence and the terrifying auras of the cultivators nearby.

But now? This claim of divinity? Of being the reincarnated goddess?

No. Enough.

This was lunacy. And someone had to call it out.

"Brat—" The head priest flinched at the loud tone from his grandson. He turned, intending to scold and calm him down, but was instead met with a yell—the fourth one he'd ever received in his life.

"You've gone senile, Grandpa! Can't you see he's a scammer?!" the young priest shouted, pointing at the man seated leisurely on a rock, smirking in their direction as if mocking them for being mortals who dared pretend to understand gods.

"You…" The old man, stunned to hear his grandson raise his voice at him, looked towards Kyle. He stared for a moment before feeling the churn of doubt bubble in his heart. But then, with a sharp breath, he reaffirmed to himself, No. I shouldn't doubt our god.

That sudden surge of his grandson's voice—firm, defiant—had shaken him. He was taken aback, and even for a fleeting second, he had doubted the young man's divinity. That brief lapse infuriated him, for it betrayed his own sense of unwavering devotion.

Even though the god before him had spoken wise words, had uttered the exact phrases he'd once heard in a dream—words no one else could possibly know—and had told him to stop praying to his "other self"… that small crack of hesitation still found its way in.

"This is all because of you—" the old priest barked at his grandson, eyes narrowing as he prepared to scold him for shaking his faith.

But Kyle raised a hand calmly, palm facing the priest. "Stop, Ermis. I personally like his devotion more than yours."

Kyle's voice cut through the tension. The gesture was subtle, yet firm enough to stop Ermis in his tracks. After all, if he was to establish a religion here, it needed a foundation built on logic and understanding—not blind fanaticism that might derail this side quest altogether.

'!?'

"Wh-what? I… I don't understand." The old man stumbled over his words, visibly shaken by his god's statement—especially the implication that his grandson's devotion had somehow surpassed his own.

"Tell me, Ermis," Kyle continued, his tone cool and divine. "As a god, I gave you the gift of thought. You humans are my greatest creation…"

:: And yet, you cannot grasp the simple truth—that the very purpose of your existence is to doubt me? ::

'...that was a good one.' Kyle inwardly praised the line, following the script fed to him by Valeriana, who sat perched atop his head. If he was going to play the part of a god, why not use the words of real ones?

"My Lord, how could I, a mere mortal, even think to doubt—"

:: So you're saying I created my most capable creation… to be merely mere? ::

"N-No! Please forgive me!"

Kyle didn't break character, calmly reciting each word as Valeriana whispered the divine lines. The performance was convincing enough—believable, at least.

Then, as he turned towards the young man again, he lifted his hand to display a miracle before snapping his fingers and, to add more clarity, he uttered.

"Heal."