[ Etheome ]
Adeu woke up with a start, his breath ragged as he fell back, gripping the ground beneath him. His body trembled, his mind racing to process what he had just seen.
"What the hell was that?" The memories burned vividly, The Trials, the Ten Chosen, Dune's sacrifice, Darius' death. He had witnessed everything.
"So… this is the Blessing Ceremony?" The words tasted bitter on his tongue.
The sheer number of humans who had died flashed through his mind. Why are we gods so cruel? He understood their history, how humans had hunted them, slaughtered them for generations, how the Great War had left scars on both sides. But these people… they had nothing to do with that war. What is the real purpose of this ceremony?
Adeu stood up, shaking off the lingering shock, and glanced around. The room was empty. Without hesitation, he stepped outside.
The moment he did, the overwhelming noise of the massive arena crashed into him. People stood everywhere, walking, chatting, murmuring about what they had just witnessed. Among them were students, fellow gods who still reeled from the ceremony's revelations.
Then, his eyes landed on someone standing alone amidst the shifting crowd.
Charmy.
She looked different from how he had always known her. The golden-white academy uniform she wore gleamed under the arena lights, and her hair, neatly braided and tied back, framed her face. But her usual warmth, her ever-present smile, was gone. Instead, her blue eyes held something fragile, fear.
Adeu frowned. Charmy was the kind of person who wouldn't even harm a bug, always full of life, always gentle. But now, she stood frozen, shaken by what she had seen in the Trials. And Adeu hated seeing her like this.
He approached and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Charmy…" His voice was softer than he expected. "Are you okay?"
She blinked as if snapping out of a trance, then turned to him. For a moment, she hesitated before speaking, her voice measured but brittle. "You saw it too, didn't you?"
Adeu sighed. "Yeah… I don't even know what to think."
Charmy let out a shaky breath, looking down. "It was horrible… all of it."
He watched her, unsure of what to say. He didn't know blessings ceremony would be so brutal.
Before he could respond, a powerful voice thundered through the arena.
Adeu and Charmy turned toward the massive castle gates, where a figure stood at the center of the arena. A presence so overwhelming that even the gods themselves froze in place.
Gasps spread through the crowd. Whispers of disbelief. Awe.
It's him…
The God of Fame Rudang. A True God.
His mere presence sent a ripple through the gathered gods, his aura suffocating yet mesmerizing. True Gods rarely revealed themselves like this, and yet, here he was.
[ The Blessing Ceremony has reached its climax! ]
His voice carried with ease, rich with amusement and authority. He smirked, his gaze sweeping over the crowd.
[ Let the gods decide the fate of every soul still breathing. ]
Suddenly, a booming voice echoed through the grand hall, slicing the crowd instantly. Adeu froze as he looked up. Thousands of gods hovered above, their immense forms shimmering like celestial giants.
At the front, ten true gods sat upon colossal thrones, their gazes cold and imperious. Everyone else below trembled under their scrutiny, the sheer weight of their presence suffocating.
[ The Blessings Ceremony is reaching its conclusion, ] the god proclaimed, his tone calm but commanding. [ Ten survivors will soon stand before us. Their resilience and courage have earned them this moment, and the gods shall decide their fates. ]
With a wave of his hand, ten humans materialized on the stage. Each knelt on the ground, blindfolded and bound by golden locks that shimmered faintly in the divine light.
The gods watched them intently, their expressions a mix of curiosity, disdain, and detached amusement. Whispers filled the air as gods exchanged comments, some mocking, others pitying.
Adeu's gaze fell on the kneeling figures. His heart tightened when he saw one of them, Dune.
Though Adeu had never met Dune before, he saw what he did in Trials. A strange and inexplicable familiarity washed over him, as if they had crossed paths in another life. The connection unsettled him. *What's going on? Why does it feel like I know him?*
The golden-clad god continued, [ These mortals have endured trials beyond mortal comprehension. Their strength has brought them here, but it is by our grace alone that they shall rise… or fall. ]
[ We, the gods, hold their fate in our hands. Let us now decide who among them shall be blessed by the divine touch, their lives forever altered by our mercy. ]
The hall grew tense, every god bracing themselves for what would come next.
[ The first god to choose their blessed will be ] The announcement hung in the air, each word dripping with suspense.
Most eyes turned to Atlas, a boy known for his purple Zeten. Whispers surged through the hall. Surely, Enren would be the first choice.
[ …Bethel, the god of knowledge and wisdom. ]
The name sent a ripple of murmurs and gasps through the crowd. Discontent spread quickly, the air thick with disappointment.
Adeu frowned, confused by the reaction. *Why do they hate him? How could anyone even dare to hate a true god?*
The other gods sneered openly, their disdain for Bethel clear. Even among the ten true gods seated on their thrones, mocking smiles spread across their faces.
Bethel, however, remained unfazed. His serene, angelic face was framed by flowing white hair, and his calm demeanor was unshaken by the ridicule. He moved with quiet determination, his white robe gliding effortlessly as he approached the kneeling humans.
The tension in the hall thickened as Bethel stopped before the first candidate: Enren.
The crowd held its breath, expecting Bethel to choose the obvious favorite. But to their shock, Bethel merely glanced at Enren and moved on.
He continued down the line, passing Atlas, Omen, Gambielo, Twins, and Elijah without so much as a pause.
The hall erupted into an uproar.
"What is he doing?" someone shouted, their voice laced with disbelief.
Laughter rippled through the assembly, mocking Bethel's actions.
Still, Bethel remained composed. His steps were deliberate, his gaze unwavering, until he reached the last figure in the line: a boy with black hair.
The gods immediately recognized him. This was the one who had swum through the Zeten water, risking his life to save the girl.
But they also saw him as the weakest of the group, a boy with no significant powers.
Bethel paused before him, ignoring the sneers and laughter of his peers.
Atreus, the god of war, on one of the thrones leaned forward, his voice dripping with scorn. "The weakest true god choosing the weakest Zeten? This is pathetic, Bethel. We gave you the first choice because you're the weakest among us, and this is what you do with it?"
The hall erupted into laughter once more, but Bethel remained unshaken. He raised his hand, pointing directly at the black haired boy.
"I've made my choice," he declared, his calm voice cutting through the ridicule. He turned and walked back to his throne, his expression calm as he rested his head on his fist.
The crowd quieted, their mockery replaced by murmurs of confusion and curiosity.
Adeu stared at Dune, still struggling to comprehend Bethel's decision.
*Why him? Why choose someone so weak?*