(Alistair's POV)
The soft hum of the television filled the dimly lit apartment, the only source of movement in an otherwise still room.
I sat on the leather sofa, one arm resting on the armrest, a glass of water in my other hand.
The screen flickered, displaying a breaking news report—one that had dominated the headlines for the last several hours.
"Alistair Vaelthorne, the former heir of House Vaelthorne, officially disowned!"
"Breaking: Noble prodigy rejects the Moon Huntress and accepts an abyssal blessing!"
"Is this the rise of a new abyssal warlord or just another fool consumed by the dark?"
I let out a slow breath, my expression calm as I listened.
It wasn't surprising.
From the moment I had rejected Artemis's blessing and accepted the Ever-Hungry Maw, the world had been bound to react.
I picked up my tablet, scrolling through various forums and news articles.
Abyssal blessings weren't illegal.
They weren't even that uncommon.
But they were still… feared.
Even if choosing an abyssal god wasn't a crime, it wasn't respected either.
And for someone like me—someone from an esteemed noble family—it was practically scandalous.
I skimmed through the headlines, my fingers tapping absently against the glass.
---
Social Media Posts:
❖ @AurelianKnight: "Good riddance. Alistair was never worthy of House Vaelthorne to begin with. A traitor to his lineage." [13.2k Likes]
❖ @EldoriaMageForum: "This is the biggest noble scandal in years. How do you go from being an elite heir to an abyssal outcast in one night?" [4.9k Comments]
❖ @ShadeRunner: "Honestly? Who cares? The strong make their own rules. If he thrives, people will start worshipping him instead." [7.1k Retweets]
---
I almost chuckled at that last one.
They weren't wrong.
Power determined everything.
If I remained D-rank trash, then yeah, my rejection of the Moon Huntress would be a permanent stain on my name.
But if I rose to power?
People would change their tune real quick.
That's how it always worked.
I flicked back to the live news broadcast.
The studio showed a panel of three "experts", all discussing me.
"Alistair's decision is reckless," an older nobleman with a sharp mustache said, adjusting his monocle. "House Vaelthorne has served the Moon Huntress for generations. His actions are not only disgraceful, but dangerous."
"I disagree," a female professor countered. "Abyssal beings are not inherently evil. They simply grant power to those willing to accept the risks. The real question is—why did he make this choice?"
"Because he's power-hungry," the third guest scoffed, shaking his head. "Look at his history. He was already known for being ruthless. He simply chose the fastest way to get stronger."
I tilted my head, smirking.
They weren't completely wrong.
But they also weren't completely right.
I switched to an anonymous online discussion board, where opinions were more… unfiltered.
❖ User001: "I'd do the same if it meant getting stronger. People act all righteous, but they'd take an abyssal blessing if they had the guts."
❖ User002: "He should've stayed with the Moon Huntress. Abyssal entities always demand a price."
❖ User003: "Dude, imagine waking up and realizing the gods are literally playing favorites. I respect him for rejecting their script."
❖ User004: "If he's strong, none of this matters. If he's weak, he'll die. Simple as that."
❖ User005: "His sister got chosen as Artemis's avatar right after. If that's not a divine middle finger, I don't know what is."
I paused at that last comment.
That part… still irritated me.
Elaine, my sister, had received Artemis's full blessing the moment I rejected mine.
It wasn't just a coincidence.
It was a statement.
A message from the gods.
"Fine. If you refuse our path, then we'll just pick someone else."
I clenched my jaw, forcing myself to relax.
Elaine was her own person.
She wasn't at fault.
But that didn't change the fact that the gods were playing games with our lives.
And I hated it.
***
I set the tablet down, my fingers tapping against the armrest of the sofa.
The assassin would arrive soon.
In the game, this was the moment Alistair died.
He would have been unprepared.
A single knife to the throat—quick, clean, efficient.
But this time?
This time, things were different.
I wasn't that naive, arrogant noble boy anymore.
I was Ethan Kael—a warrior who had fought and killed for years.
I was Alistair Vaelthorne—a noble swordsman trained in mana-infused combat.
I had prepared.
The rune ritual had succeeded.
I had gained Void Step.
And now, I had something waiting for my would-be killer.
I exhaled, leaning back into the couch, my eyes drifting toward the window.
The city lights shimmered in the distance.
The world outside continued as if nothing was about to happen.
But I knew better.
Tonight, the assassin would come.
And tonight, they would learn that the script had changed.
I smirked, my fingers tightening around the hilt of my blade.
Let's see who dies tonight.
TO BE CONTINUE...