She placed both hands on his shoulders, her touch sending ripples of power through his newly enhanced being. "That is why you must be stronger than them all. I can tell that you already have nurtured my power, Voidwrath, going as far as to make a blade with it."
"Now, I have given you my divine power, so you can grow faster."
The goddess began to fade again, her form becoming one with the surrounding mist.
"Remember, child—trust in your power, but never let your guard down. Even the most innocent-seeming fellow traveller from another world could be your deadliest enemy."
Her final words echoed in the chamber as her presence dissipated: "Watch. Learn. Grow strong. The fate of this realm may well rest on which of the chosen ones proves mightiest in the coming storm."
As the mist cleared and the room returned to normal, Jolthar stood in the darkness, his mind churning with this new knowledge. Every stranger he would meet could be another piece in this divine game. Every friendly face could hide powers blessed by gods both benevolent and malevolent.
He looked down at his hands, watching the divine energy pulse beneath his skin like captured starlight. Somewhere out there, others like him were doing the same, each blessed by different gods, each with their own purpose in this world.
The night suddenly felt very dark and very dangerous.
***
Jolthar's pov:
Waking up, I was still feeling the lingering effects of that, uh, intense meeting.
Last night, after the goddess had left, I found myself still tingling all over from… well, everything.
Her lips… those lips. My own fingertips brushed over my mouth again like I could somehow capture that feeling once more, still lingering like the sweetest honey imaginable.
Gods, that body of hers... I'd need several lifetimes just to properly appreciate every curve.
And let's not forget about the gift she left—a spatial ring on my finger, gleaming with a kind of magic that was beyond me. I turned it this way and that, wondering what on earth I'd even store in it. Snacks, probably. Or maybe I'd just look cool flaunting it. Ah, I know, the first things that would go in were to be my swords.
I looked at the two swords lying beside my bed. One was the proud creation Knashii, and the other was the treasure I found, Horgath.
Then came the real kicker—I actually fell asleep dreaming of her.
Oh yeah, that kind of dream.
There I was, stark naked, and she was there, draped over me in all her goddess glory… ahem.
Until, of course, things took a turn. Elara—of all people—decided to pop in uninvited. I practically jumped out of my own head, jolting awake with my heart racing.
A knock at the door announced Pascal's arrival with breakfast, including the jug of milk I'd requested. The old butler had raised an eyebrow at my specific request for cow's milk yesterday and probably wondered if I was some sort of dairy-obsessed madman. The real reason I like drinking milk, nah, I wouldn't say.
A warrior has to maintain some mysteries, after all.
Now, I'll admit, I'd been on a real milk kick lately—nothing like chugging down some fresh cow's milk to start the day, you know? But somewhere in my hazy, still half-asleep mind, I started thinking… women's milk.
I wondered if it would be, I don't know, richer? Creamier? Eh, maybe I'd find out one day… or not.
Moving on.
Pascal dropped the bomb that I'd been summoned to the front grounds at eleven—something about a mission. Yes, dear aunt said something about a mission.
"The mission briefing is at eleven, young master," Pascal informed me, his voice proper as always despite the fact that I probably looked like I'd been wrestling thunder spirits in my sleep. "Front grounds."
"Right. A mission," I muttered as I poured another mug of milk, chugging it like it was the elixir of life. Nothing beats a glass of pure, sweet milk in the early morning.
After he left, I went through my morning routine, trying not to think about my divine visitation or that particularly vivid dream. A cold bath helped with both issues, though I might have muttered a few choice curses about the water temperature that would've made even a hardened mercenary blush.
I threw on my gear and made my way out, stomach full and spirits high, although a little curious about what exactly I'd be getting into today. For safety purposes, I put only Horgath inside the ring and carried my long sword. I couldn't forget the warning the goddess was giving—not to recklessly use the ring.
When I reached the front grounds, I immediately spotted the reason Pascal had been vague.
There she was: a woman in armour, standing with the kind of stance that screamed, "I don't take nonsense."
Like some warrior goddess come to earth (and hadn't I had enough of goddesses lately?) was the most magnificent woman I'd ever seen.
Six feet of a perfectly sculpted warrior, wrapped in armour that hugged her frame like a lover's embrace. Her hair was an impossible mix of silver and black that caught the morning light like polished steel.
Behind her stood what I assumed were her men, all decked out in matching matte black armour that practically screamed, "We're very serious and dangerous people."
Real classy stuff.
I must have been staring like a love-struck farm boy because one of the men in black stepped forward with an expression that suggested he'd caught me drooling over his prized war horse.
"You're Jolthar?" he asked, though it wasn't really a question.
"Mount up. We're moving out," he said in this no-nonsense tone. Oh, I thought, we're in a rush, are we? Fine.
We mounted our horses, and as we rode through the estate gates, Mr. Serious finally introduced himself, though I was still sneaking glances at the silver-haired beauty leading our column.
"So," he began, "we're a 20 unit led by Lady Maena Kaezhlar." He gave a quick nod in her direction, which nearly had me craning my neck to catch another glimpse of her as if I could be any less subtle.
Turned out she was actually from the main family, which explained the aura of "I could kill you with my pinky finger, but I'm too dignified to bother" she had going on. Though I couldn't find her in the memories, it was my first time seeing her.
"Two objectives," Mr. Serious (I really should have paid attention to his actual name) explained as our horses picked their way down the mountain path.
"First, we clean out the bandit problem in Baron Rothgard's county. Second, we retrieve the baron's son." He said this like we were discussing a grocery list rather than what promised to be a rather exciting series of probably violent encounters.
Right. The Baron. My enthusiasm took a nosedive when I heard that. I wasn't exactly the biggest fan of noble types, but duty calls, I guess.
I nodded along, trying to look appropriately serious while still watching how Lady Maena's hair danced in the wind. Between my recent divine encounter and now riding alongside this martial goddess, I was beginning to think the universe was testing my ability to maintain professional composure around breathtaking women. At least this one probably wouldn't kiss me and fill me with divine power—though given my luck lately, I wasn't ruling anything out.
The spatial ring on my finger caught the sunlight, reminding me that yes, last night had actually happened, and yes, I was now apparently some sort of chosen warrior in a coming war of the gods.
But first, apparently, we had to go play hero in baron country.
At least the company was good, even if Mr. Serious seemed determined to drain all the fun out of what promised to be an interesting adventure.
I couldn't help but grin. From divine kisses to dashing rescues, all in the span of a day.
"So, what exactly is this mission about?" I asked, trying to sound more professional than I felt.
He explained it in two parts: first, we were supposed to deal with a bandit problem that had apparently gotten out of hand. "Typical," I thought. I mean, why bother paying your guards properly when you can just hire us to do your dirty work? And then came the second part: bringing the Baron's son back.
I nearly choked on the words. "The Baron's son? What did the kid do? Run off to play bandit?"
"Details are not your concern, Jolthar," he replied, sounding exactly like every no-fun mentor I'd ever had in my life.
"Oh, right. Wouldn't want to muddy things with too much information now, would we?" I muttered under my breath, earning me a sharp glance.