Support my main contracted novel and winner of Writing Prompts #26 - The Legendary Mage!
Desolate Mage: A Legend Reborn!
https://www.webnovel.com/book/12013957905760805/Desolate-Mage%3A-A-Legend-Reborn!
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[3 minutes and 42 seconds earlier]
"You might ask: Don't the gods know about the disaster happening right now...?" The Britannian knight spoke to his aide; outside the city of Paris. The same knight Sam had seen; the one who had been negotiating with Demon Prince Malcan.
His pretty and young aide nodded. She was a pure girl with a tear-shaped face; with brunette hair and gentle eyes. She was slim and made one want to protect her due to her small build. She was also short for her 14 or so years of age; reaching only up to the gallant man's sternum.
She was an idiot when it came to cultivation talent; still stuck at level 1 despite training for countless years.
She was also the only graduate of the Britannian death camp; slaying, ambushing, poisoning and seducing every single competitor in a 2 year battle royale; competitors up to 7 levels above her.
She emerged as the only survivor standing on top of a mountain of dead bodies - still with the same innocent, pure smile on her face; eyes still soft and docile.
"The answer is; the gods don't know. Or at least, only a few attentive ones know. They are not all-knowing. Nor are those fake, so-called gods all powerful."
They continued in their slow and relaxed walk through the grounds of the palace of House Valois; in the courtyard of the King of Gallia.
"Next question: If they know, why haven't they acted? Or at least, why haven't they warned their other gods?" He smiled a smile that had no joy - instead, a gleam of malice and coldness appeared within his eyes.
She shrugged; following behind him at a distance of a pace and a half, taking 3 steps for each of his steps in order to keep up.
"The answer: Because they are a**holes; scum; beasts; vermin... MONSTERS!!" He shouted while continuing in his calm gait.
She nodded once again; silently - continuing to smile gaily.
"Last question. Do you think any of them will come to help...?"
She smiled brightly. She knew the answer to this question.
"No."
They stopped as they stood before the rubble of the palace that had been razed to ground.
He laughed as he stepped on the corpse of his brother-in-law, King Philip Valois VI; gloating in his revenge.
* * * * *
Zeus rubbed his temples in distress.
(A god? Distressed...?) He let out a loud Harumph! in displeasure.
Was there a trap that could snare him?
A trap could not stay hidden from the wisdom of the proud son of heaven. No god could ascend without being a survivor; and no survivor could last without great luck... And much wisdom.
(Or cunning...) He smiled.
But there was a trap in front of him now; one that he could find no solution to.
An open and above-board trap; with nothing hidden; and no deception. Only one frontal challenge was laid before him - a bait that he could neither refuse; nor obtain. And one he would still have to lay his life on the line to prevent others from obtaining.
(Nadal-dug, you wretch... I spared you out of mercy... Hah! From now on, there shall be no mercy in this heart!) As he spoke, the "concept" of mercy literally evaporated from his god-consciousness; destroyed by his decision.
He was faced with an unsolvable trap.
The power of sacrifices ready for the taking was being flaunted openly - enough power to drive even the highest gods insane.
Enough power for the ascendant ones to instantly *transcend*.
If the power fell into his own faction member's hands - he, the tyrant and dictator, would be overthrown and devoured instantly.
If the power fell into the hands of a rival factions member - his entire faction and continent would be annihilated.
If he entered the trap himself to obtain the power; countless gods of every faction would perish - with the only gainer being the wretched Necro-Dragon-Lich-Demon-God (NDLDG) Nadal-dug himself.
And he would still have no guarantee of obtaining that power - or even of retaining his own life.
And yet... There were no options left before him.
Even as the continent was torn apart by countless planar portals and the demons invasion; no gods would move.
No, every god was inherently selfish. He knew only a handful of gods through the ages who would move altruistically.
But despite their wisdom and power, naive and trusting as they were, they had all fallen easily to his hands...
All gods would strive only for supremacy - for the one in a trillion, one in a billion trillion years opportunity to be the first Transcender; to rule over the Heavenly Fate.
Forced to a decision, he stood from his throne.
A flash of lightning crossed the sky instantly; leaving behind only deafening thunder flashing across Mount Olympus.
Across the globe, countless comets with trails of fire, ice, lightning and whatever elements or phenomena appeared; heading to the same destination: the Island of Manacor, the Realm of the Dead God.
* * * * *
On the island of Manacor, in the Hidden and Sealed Realm of the Dead God.
The black-haired boy stood before the dessicated corpse of Nadal-dug.
Nadal-dug's real body was an abomination; a hodgepodge of seemingly random body parts sewn together - body parts that could be skeletal, decaying or fresh & unblemished. Due to the mismatch of the original owners species, the immense body that was as big as a football stadium had multiple arms, legs, noses and other unmentionable extremities at odd places.
Some parts were easily discernible - a dragons wings and exposed heart under a giants skeletal ribcage; making up the torso of the creature along with many other unknown parts. A great demons neck on top of the torso. A gryphons eagle head. A basilisks lizard head.
And a normal human head that was so tiny in comparison to the body that it looked like a pimple slapped on in the middle of the other 2 heads.
Despite the smell of decay and being "lifeless", the black-haired boy was listening to the head - Nadal-dug - tell his story.
He yawned.
"My... My name was originally Phoenix, son of Agenor. Please... My flesh and blood... P-please; you must fulfil my wish - my only wish in this life!" The cold-blooded perpetrator of many a genocide implored, his voice breaking.
He was weeping as he spoke; his raw heart and emotions unearthed after nearly a millenia. Nadal-dug was begging his "son".
The black-haired boy nodded in understanding and empathy.
"No."
Then he stepped on the head and crushed it like a pumpkin.
He turned to look at the peak of the NDLDG's tower peak; against the backdrop of the bleak grey sky in the Realm of the now-Dead God Nadal-dug. In fact, everything was grey in this world filled with death, decay and demonic denizens.
At the top of the tower above him was a crystal filled with swirling grey matter. It was so grey that at first glance it looked black.
If he stared into its depths, every now and he would see a face or a thousand pairs of eyes staring back; swimming and howling in the murky grey void. The resentment and despair emanating from the crystal was enough to swallow a weaker mind.
The boy disinterestedly looked away.
Beside the gargantuan corpse of Nadal-dug was an altar of dirt and earth. The brown earth looked out of place compared to the grey surroundings.
As he surveyed the God-realm that now belonged to him, the black-haired boy had an expression of absolute indifference.
He raised up his hand and casually moved only his fingers in a downward wave.
Krr-Krr!!! Crrrrrrreeeeeaak!
The crystal filled with the souls of millions began to crack; the spiderweb-like lines instantaneously spreading across its surface. Winds from god-knows-where began to move in a cyclone around the crystal, preventing the escape of any grey masses.
The larger grey masses belonged to talents, geniuses, kings, legends, myths. While the smaller were peasants, knaves, knights. Yet the largest ones were the most evident - the souls of not a few lesser gods.
And as the crown jewel to top it off, the dense, crystalline soul of a greater god - Santa.
As the sacrifice neared the altar to Fate; the black-haired boy showed his first expression. A smile so faint that the upturning of the corners of his mouth could only be measured in micrometers.
The world and the Endless Worlds beyond it would soon learn there is something far more dangerous than an evil god, a demon prince, or an astral beast.
Yes, far more dangerous is a person with the unlimited power; but with no meaning, no direction and no purpose for existence.