Lyuvanor never desired freedom for his people.
And why would he? Long before becoming a false healer, Lyuvanor was a revered figure, praised and idolized.
His handsome face and skill in magic allowed him to climb the rigid social hierarchy of the Hope race.
Though some conservative factions regarded his kind as no better than filth, many more saw them as divine incarnations.
Wealth, power, women—Lyuvanor had it all.
What he never expected was to meet the very god said to descend into his bloodline.
It happened during a common scuffle. A Hope soldier insulted his father crudely, and Lyuvanor, unable to restrain himself, struck him.
As no one intervened, the fight turned ugly and brutal. The soldier died when Lyuvanor resorted to magic.
Still dazed and consumed with guilt, Lyuvanor saw a light materialize—and there she stood.
Her hair fell to her back in a black cascade, her small figure radiated with luminous skin, and her lips ...
Lyuvanor remembered them vividly—their color deeper than pomegranate, sweeter than honey.
"Next, it's your turn."
She planted a soft kiss on him before vanishing into the dust.
With that, Lyuvanor experienced an overwhelming sensation.
It was as if every scent, every taste, every touch converged into him at once.
Knowledge, insights, the memories of the entire world poured into him.
And Lyuvanor felt like his head would explode.
When the torment subsided, bliss replaced it.
It was as if divine enlightenment had been granted; he understood everything.
"This world is cursed."
"These Kaovren are cursed."
"There is only one who deserves to rule."
Thus, Lyuvanor orchestrated vile schemes and spread slander.
Which led to him being a prisoner.
And for what? Justice for the Half-Bloods? Liberation for the Alhamera? The destruction of the Hope race?
"No."
Lyuvanor simply wanted to meet that woman again. To admire her beauty once more. To feel that euphoria again.
Even as fire consumed much of his face and pain pierced his soul, Lyuvanor never stopped hoping.
Sadly, hope is poison, and Lyuvanor realized it at the very end.
"There is only one who deserves to rule."
And it wasn't him. It wasn't the Half-Bloods.
Lyuvanor died in disgrace, realizing the god he loved had never chosen him from the start.
*#*
[The Chosen One: Lyuvanor has perished]
[Please select another candidate …]
It ended more spectacularly than I anticipated.
Lucas, observing from above, couldn't help but marvel at how a divine encounter could create such a terrifying domino effect.
Well, at least it ended as he intended. This time, the Hope race's progress would stagnate, giving the Alhamera a chance to catch up.
Although the Half-Bloods might pose an unpredictable threat someday.
Lucas glanced at a woman sitting in the corner of the room, sighed, and approached her.
By all appearances, she was human—at least, the image of humanity's final evolution before their extinction.
Yet, though her eyes were open, Lucas couldn't sense even a spark of life within her.
"Tell me, is this being alive or just an empty vessel?"
In selecting <The Chosen One>, Lucas was free to customize how it was done.
Of course, the options were overwhelming, so he consulted the system again.
The system began recounting tales of past chosen ones who encountered a figure claiming to be God during meditation or while exploring caves, then suggested this as inspiration.
Lucas thought he himself would descend, but the system had a better idea.
[It exists somewhere between the two]
[The body has functioning organs. Heart, lungs, a brain. Even cellular regeneration that can slow and age over time]
[However, it lacks consciousness, a soul, or any motivation to act]
[It doesn't possess an 'ego']
"So, like a robot?"
[A more accurate term would be… a doll]
Lucas's researcher instincts flared up. If the organs were intact, did that mean the nervous system was too? Would it scream in pain if he mutilated it?
"So, it only comes to life when I designate it as a messenger?"
[You can give it permanent consciousness—]
"Let me guess, for one Divine Intervention token?"
The system remained silent.
Which meant yes, huh.
Since acquiring <All-Hearing>, Lucas could now hear the system's voice, and it had become more interactive.
But the idea of having another human to talk to was also tempting.
That's why Lucas seriously considered it.
[Be aware that granting ego can make it more unpredictable]
[It will also not be an immortal being like you!]
[Giving it permanent consciousness and an ego is a waste]
Lucas found it amusing how the system suddenly offered 'financially sound' advice. Before, it had been pushy about unlocking a feature.
But Lucas also thought it made sense. After all, he only had one token.
[Milestone Achieved: Competitor's Downfall]
[You've gained 1 Divine Intervention token.]
Now he had two.
So, did this mean choosing a
Lucas wondered what would happen if he selected ten people at once.
[There's a reason why <The Chosen One> includes the word 'one']
[The chosen are meant to lead and guide their people's progress. To be the sun for their kind]
[And the world… does not need more than one sun]
[At least, not in this world]
So, the chaos would be unimaginable, huh?
Lucas returned to his observation desk and refocused on the next target.
The Alhamera colony.
He smacked his forehead and sighed.
If the Hope race was being forcibly stagnated—and might even improve if they could rise from this downfall—the Alhamera were the opposite.
They had evolved into a small kingdom.
Their population was exploding, reaching thousands. Far too many for their magically protected sanctuary to sustain.
Yet instead of seeking progressive solutions, they resorted to …
Sacrificial rituals?
From here, Lucas could see a hundred of their ugliest, unluckiest, and oldest individuals being thrown into a ravine to die.
The sacrifices were ensured to be powerless, bound with anti-magic ropes.
Wait, anti-magic?
That was a technology Lucas never expected. There were countermeasures developed by the Hope race to temporarily negate magic.
But the ropes used on these sacrifices 'naturally' blocked the flow of magic, no matter how hard they tried.
The creator of this tool was a genius, adaptable and resourceful.
"Find the person who made this!"