"Holy shit, she's ruthless as hell?!" I excitedly exclaimed, eating a mysterious blue glowing berry from a bowl made of a million tightly weaved, wriggling streaks of lightning hovering between me and my newfound patron, Perunious.
"Indeed, her potential appears limited only by her own will to grow. Be mindful of that one, Tom. Her own Patron is the last being one should take lightly, even by my standards." Perunious replied, shaking his head with an amused grin. Curious at the idea of this towering manifestation of pulsating lightning energy being apprehensive, my question almost leaped from my tongue.
"Wait, what God would be so strong to make you feel reserved to the idea of slighting them?" I asked curiously. Perunious glared intently, furrowing his electric brow as anger sparked in his eyes.
"Haha, her name is Kirasu, Goddess of Nature. And coincidentally enough, among the most talented archers to have ever lived. She is one of the most vicious, cunning, and decorated Warrior Gods across the multiverse. That includes Khathorn, the one you claimed was 'totally feeling you' as you so crudely put." Perunious replied scoffing a deep, chest shaking exertion of air from his nostrils. Yet he maintained a stiff smile, flashing the kind of supportive look you give the hopeful friend with an aspiring rap career.
"Just give it some time, I know what I saw." I assured, dismissively. Then it occurred to me this wasn't the first god who claimed flower-power.
"But wait, I met another God claiming sovereignty over nature. I think they went by Florstrum, he was made out of bark and other grassy shit." I asked, struggling to remember the strange god, the same who claimed I already 'belonged' to someone.
"Ah, that old fool. Yes, Florstrum commands a certain nature of plant life, but not that of natural law itself."
Perunious casually replied. Apparently noticing my puzzled face, Perunious sat up from his massive bubble bath causing strobing flashes of electrified water to swish about within his tub.
"Kirasu's path is far less limited. In fact, Florstrum hadn't even been created before Kirasu's ascension. You see, plant life, sentient or not, must abide by natural law. A law written by Mother Nature. She is the lawman, all life that exists in the natural realm abides by her rule." Perunious explained, waging his blue crackling arms as he spoke.
"Oh wow…damn?!" I exclaimed after mulling over the implications. Essentially, she is Mother Nature. Frankly, I couldn't see reason to fear upsetting this God, as I've never been a massive proponent for deforestations in favor of some random billionaires latest and greatest nonsense.All the same, I made a mental note to tread with care should I ever encounter Kirasu or her Chosen again.
Speaking of, that 'Willow' woman was incredible. Somehow, she'd learned how to summon a ton of trees from her arrows with zero soil in a blink. She didn't even need water, which totally didn't upset me to an irrational degree at all. The talented archer adorned a deep green and black light armor set, leaving only her hands and face exposed. Both bow and quiver shared the same color scheme, as if she'd picked out her armor with camouflage in mind rather than protection. She relatively tall at around 5'9, and well, I'll say she's in impeccable shape and leave it at that. I'm a gentleman after all.
Her skin looked far more sun kissed than mine, though my Irish ancestors didn't set me up well for catching too much sun. The entire fight, she wore her emotions totally on her contorting face. Yet, never once did I see them hinder her movements or attacks, a feat of control I have never been able to successfully pull off. Truly, she made turning anger into focus look natural.
"Is it me, or does she scream wife material?" I said, accidentally out loud.
…I'm mostly a gentleman.
"Honestly, are there any female fighters that haven't struck you as attractive yet?" Perunious shot back with a far more judgmental scoff.
"Yes?!…I mean, none that I'd taken particular notice of." I said, sheepishly. A tinge of shame at my ape brained attention span.
"Ah, I wonder why that is." Perunious retorted through a knowing grin. In all fairness, how exactly is that my fault? It just so happened the greatest fighters of our planet were also incredibly fit, which tends to be an attractive trait. Besides, considering how happily she picked that obnoxious prince apart, I didn't intend on making any moves anytime soon. Though, the way she put that pompous asshole in his place was by far some of the hot-…
You know what? I'm just going to say I was impressed at her ability.
"Pay attention, Tom." Perunious thundered, snapping me from my stupor.
"My wife's Chosen is up next, and I have a sneaking hunch you two will get along 'swimmingly'."
Looking up at the projection shooting from a hovering crystal, a woman stood gripping a trident with the pommel dug into the arena floor. Though, I couldn't help but cringe at my Patrons terrible joke.
Ugh, is that what all my water puns sound like?
Afraid to razz the God of Wrath to his face, I let the rather questionable joke slide. Focusing at the screen, I decided to finally listen to my new Patron and focus.
"So, what's her name?" I asked, analyzing her blue and silver trident and attire.
"This one goes by Veronica. My wife discovered her prowess in her 65th fight, bouncing between the fire arena your last opponent refused to leave, and the water arena you claimed your wrathful ownership over. The fact she fought neither of you is a mere matter of statistical chance. Who that was fortunate for is still undetermined, however." Perunious explained, growing less and less enthusiastic as his eyes locked onto Veronica. Unsure how to feel about that comment, I shrugged and sat back into my chair, crossing my legs on the small blue table hovering at my feet. Whether Perunious liked her better or not meant next nothing to me, especially if I'm to be seeing this Veronica with her own goddess in passing for the foreseeable future. Besides, water and fire? I'm sure she's great but, talk about 'two-faced'.
Standing at around 5 '11 of lean muscle, Veronica's thin cloth material and leather armor covering vital organs exclusively felt as silly as my own light armor selection. Especially clutching such a long, fancy silver trident shimmering in the light. Her bright red hair fell about an inch below her shoulders, pulled straight back as if she'd just got out of the pool. Her eyes glimmered bright blue even with the distance camera angle. Well, 'camera' or, whatever they use to record these.
Contrarily, her opponent was a slightly shorter, much broader build. They stood bent low, his thick, dark metallic armor covering him head to toe. He clutched the classic short sword and shield, and dropped into a defensive stance as soon as he was blipped into the arena. Sighing ad if annoyed, Veronica walked forward with a confident swagger as casually spoke.
"Why's it I always get the most boring fighters? You people realize you could've chose ANY weapon, right?" She scoffed, pleading both to her current foe and the remaining fighters watching from outside the arena. The shielded warrior silently remained, not moving an inch regardless of her slow but obvious advancing. Veronica held up a few paces short, scanning the man thoroughly.
"Hm, 'stoic and broody', how original. Tell me, do you have another shield, or just the one in front of you?"
The man's head lifted above the shield cocking to the side confusedly. Immediately, Veronica slammed her tridents pommel to the floor causing a stream of mist jetting from the end of her trident. Within seconds the fog acted almost sentiently began rolling all around the warrior, completely consuming his figure from view. Veronica took a single step backward, shuffling around the cloud twisting around the shielded warrior. His swiping blade and shield occasionally peaked through gaps in the fog trying to brush away the fog before it reformed, hiding the man yet again.
Veronica practically skipped around her massive mist while stabbing into the fog with the prongs of her trident. Each time, a loud yelp or metallic pang rang out. Slowly, the ends of her prongs grew progressively more red with blood. Veronica's cackling laughter slowly crescendoed as she jabbed at the cloud before waving her hand, lifting the fog into the air revealing bloodied and battered opponent.
"Im starting to feel bad, did you want to try fighting while you can see?" The redhead jeered, with a raised brow. The warrior began charging her in response, earning the first serious stance from the mist wielder. His moved with surprising quickness, lifting his blade over his tightly tucked shield. Just before reaching a collision however, the man stopped just short striking distance, landing down and shelling once more behind his shield. With an exaggerated sigh, Veronica's shoulders slumped down as she turned toward the other fighters yet again, disregarding her foes close range.
"Ughhh, really? This isn't even fun anymo-"
The warriors blade lunged forward, cutting off the trident users rant and slicing across her free hand. Veronica shuffled back, narrowly evading a fatal stab to the chest before voicing her disgruntlement.
"OW?! You cut me, you fucking asshole?!" Veronica shouted, shaking her hand and checking the shallow cut across her palm. Her eyebrows narrowed as she pointed her trident at her attacker.
"Fine, no fun it is."
The familiar fog fired from her trident, once more surrounding the large warrior. It was heavier this time, the sound of him choking on the vapors beginning to crescendo. Flicking her wrist, and the cloud of vapor flashed a bright orange. Blood curdling screams filled the arena as the light vanished, along with the mist cloud. What stood behind was a man, his skin melted like plastic being dropping through the gaps in his armor in near liquid form. His agonizing gurgles filled the silence for 8 full seconds before finally succumbing to his burns and disappearing.
Utterly stunned, my jaw fell completely ajar as my mind raced trying to understand what just happened. Turning to meet the eyes of my Patron, Perunious was simply smiling shaking his head.
"Hahaha, you really are a rather degenerate bunch of humans. Even for a race so notoriously impulsive, such nature has been especially true for those of planet 147."
Perunious paused, apparently spotting the confusion in my face.
"…your planet, Tom. 'Earth'. He clarified.
"Ohhhhhh…haha, fair enough. Is that really a bad thing? I mean, she did absolutely molly-whop him?!" I asked.
"A fight so uncompetitive as that won't bode well for her ranking if she doesn't win it all. It's too hard to discern whether one is truly so incredibly powerful, or has had impeccable fortune in lackluster opposition until a winner is crowned. Perunious replied.
"Ah, that actually makes sense. You're basically saying that Gods don't want to jump too early on someone they don't know for sure is exceptional or just exceptionally lucky?" I asked as a follow up. Perunious nodded in confirmation.
"Okay, that checks out, thanks." I said to my informative Patron.
"Thank me with your growth in both power and prowess, Chosen. Now silence, the final match is about to begin." He commanded in reply. Now, I know I'm no mathematician, but there's only been 4 fights thus far, leaving another matchup available.
"Won't these fights still leave 5 people left afterwards? How would they decide who sits out a fight during the next rounds?" I asked, hoping I worded this well enough not to incite anymore angry flairs in the Wrath Gods eye. Instead, he chuckled, narrowing his eyes once more as he spoke through a smile.
"Indeed, your incredibly basic math is not wrong. Now quiet your curiosity, it's starting." Perunious dismissively replied. My attention returned to the projection to find another set of fighters. First to get their pre-match close up was a lithe fellow, standing rather tall and lanky. He held a large wooden staff with a few runes etched onto the length of it, along with and a red stone at the end of it.
The tall man's exposed patches of skin were somehow already covered in cuts and scars, which was odd considering all of our injuries healed themselves after each match. He wore a large black overcoat, patterned in red streaks. He wore a determined expression, staring at his opponent across the arena. The angle switched to said opponent, a shorter figure in loose hanging white wraps that hung from his hands and feet. His legs were covered in the same loose hanging wraps, along with eggshell boots that looked extremely thin, with no laces.
Peaking under his wraps from the knees up were an all white pair of thin, loose fitted pants. A even thinner clothed cloak flowed loosely pulled over his head, stretching down the man's back. Finally, the figure wore a strange, rather creepy looking mask with big teeth. A long katana grip peaked at his hip through his flowing cloth attire, concealed in a white sheath with sand-grey, diamond-shaped designs.
To put it mildly, this guy looks well and truly badass. For the first time in my entire life, I felt regret for not having meddled further into the available wardrobe options. The other tall, lithe man's foot began impatiently bouncing as they stood in front of each other for some 10 massive seconds in silence. Finally, dark cloaked fighter blurted out angrily.
"COME ON?! What the hell are you waiting for?" The silent, masked swordsman simply remained still with his hands resting on his blade hilt, standing crouched low.
"Haha, alright buddy. I tried to let you have your time to shine." The angry dark robed, assumed mage hissed in a shrill tone toward the apparent pacifistic warrior. waving his in several twisting patterns, hundreds of red droplets formed in the air above the ends crystal. Slowly, they pooled and began washing in a big circle, creating a swirling cyclone of blood. Peering down from his creation, the Mage quipped for a final time.
"Goodbye, you overly dressed fuck." The apparent blood mage hissed. Thrusting with one hand, a portion of the flowing blood leapt from the swell of blood, flying toward his masked opponent. The blood morphed mid-air, shaping into over a dozen tiny shards. The scarlet blades of blood glistened spiraling through the air, hurtling quicker than an arrow. Yet even still, the masked man remained unmoving. Finally, as all hope of the badass swordsman waking up looked lost, his arm shot forward revealing a platinum colored blade. The air itself audibly whipped as his razor sharp sword was unsheathed. The warrior swiped his sword upwards, stepping back in a blink and swinging diagonally once more within a single second.
The swordsman's slicing strikes moved unbelievably fast. So much so that they were early, as the shards barreling towards the blade wielder were yet to reach their target. They were a within an arms length from piercing their target when the air roared two high pitched pops. A pair of swiping lines manifested in the air, creating an 'X' formation of swings.
The lithe mages shower of shards exploded as they contacted the apparent cuts across the air instantly. The rest fell around the warrior, creating a puddle of blood surrounding his still clean-white attire. The blood mage's jaw clenched tight, muttering angrily before elevating his voice back to a toned down version of his authoritative energy.
"H-..how d-did yo-…n-no matter." The mage said, spinning his staff yet again. In truth, those blood shards would cause me serious issue if he sent too many out at once, at the least keeping me at a distance. Then again, mages up to this point had been some of my easier fights, barring that Derrick guy.
The mage continued twirling his staff, this time much quicker as another barrage of shards flew toward the masked swordsman. With a final lunging stab motion, the mage launched a massive blood spear behind the raining red shards. The swordsman's feet blurred shuffling forward, switching his semi-bladed stance over while raising his Katana to a neutral point.
Move dude, move!?
Yet again all the mages ruby-ranged attacks looked noticed by all except their intended target, until the bladesman's back foot twisted. Almost instantly, he propelled his body in the air, releasing a gust of wind over the crowd of contestants watching. The masked warrior flipped upside down nearly 3 feet in the air, swiping his katana towards the ground. A visible tidal of air rippled with his slash, blasting off the ground below with a sharp whistle.
The gust propelled the flipping swordsman even higher, arcing the man feet-first toward the blood mage. Wide-eyed, the mage spun his staff creating a giant scarlet shield with a massive blood spike extending from its face, readying his stance for impact. The wind wielder slashed down at an angle cutting straight through the blood spike, then again at an inhuman speed breaking through the entire blood shield.
Pulling his head back, the dark cloaked mage brandished a dagger from his side, stabbing up towards his descending attacker. The wind warrior kicked his leg forward, exhibiting incredible body control in the process as he had to flip to adjust for it. Somehow, he landed on the mages arm. Not as in 'crushing his arm under the weight of another human', as in he stood balancing on his opponents arm with one foot like a fucking bird.
The lithe man's head lurched up, his jaw hanging low in shock. The weightless wind warrior flipped forward after a pause, landing on his feet. The mage had time to track his acrobatic display until its flawless finish, before two giant swipes of air manifested tearing his body to pieces. Each visible cut through the air took a shape copying the masked swordsmen's prior katana swipes from above, down to the final detail. Then, both fighters disappeared just as the warrior finished sheathing his Katana and bowing to the mangled victim at his feet.
"…anything on that fucking guy?"
Perunious sat still, his hand to his beard with his first finger over his mustache, pondering. After a few seconds, he moved his hand and spoke.
"His patron is…an odd one. A notoriously reclusive God, Oshu. He commands the powers of air itself, and another fellow Aboriginals. All affinities and records that function within air as a medium are at his control. H grades and Gods alike bow to him, yet Oshu chose to never form an official faction or church to accept said worship." Perunious relied, narrowing his eyes in thought as he spoke.
"You mentioned 'fellow Aboriginals', and 'another' implying you've mentioned one thus far. Which ones are your…God family?" Again, Perunious chuckled nonchalantly at my question.
I'm sure glad he finds my helpless ignorance so damn amusing.
"'God Family', I certainly hope your family does not treat each other as we have, Tom. Unless they're good at it, then send them my way."
Perunious continued finding thorough amusement in himself, before finally expanding on my question seeing my stern look.
"Alright, fine. If you must know, Kirasu is the only other fellow Aboriginal we've discussed. She became one before me, just before me."
His eyes trailed away from me, igniting another burst of blue flames from his eyes for a beat before returning to meet my gaze.
"Oshu was second ever to achieve Godhood, yet he did so unlike any other of us had. He remained alone, never once taking a companion on his quests. Not even a partner, for a sense of companionship. Daily, he'd spend hours meditating, hovering high in the mountains where the air was thin. It mattered not where he had to be, for it seemed he was wherever he needed to be at any given moment. Truly, a bizarre man, and not one to take up a Chosen at any grade. Needless to say, this man interests me greatly."
Having to take a second to attempt wrapping my mind around the heavenly trauma dump disguised as information I'd received, my brow furrowed realizing how scary this sword wielding air walker may truly be. An Aboriginal seclusionary God who never takes on any Chosen, selecting a level 1 H-grade human from a newly integrating planet that hasn't even started its tutorial yet to be his very first in assumingely trillions of years.
Fuck, I can't decide if him or that blonde are scarier. Hopefully, Korbin was paying close attention.
Mulling over all the incredible individuals I'd seen thus far, a nagging thought prodded at the corner of my thoughts. A conversation me and Perunious had regarding the variety of races that existed. He mentioned a myriad of them, a few being devils, giants, elementals, even beasts that grow strong enough to achieve sentience. He also mentioned humans existing long before our world joined the party, and that they've been a historically mediocre race in terms of power.
Yet, 3 Aboriginals have all found Chosen in this planet's Placement Tournament alone, one popping their metaphorical cherry in doing so. How could these both be true?
"Perunious, you said before us humans are relatively middling in terms of power across the multiverse. Why is it there's so many absolute monsters exist here then? I can't imagine of the 3 selected by Aboriginals will become a Go-"
"Four." I paused.
"…what? Four what's?"
"Four Aboriginals have selected their Chosen here. At least, to my immediate knowledge." He replied, my eyes lit up at the idea so many highly revered gods had found worthy chosen.
"What?! Who's the fourth God?" I asked, curiously. For only a moment, one easily missed had I blinked at the exact same time, he avoided my eye contact. Unwilling to call out the gods behavior, I silently waited as he finally spoke in his usual powerful tone.
"Anutir."
Oh, well why's that so bad?
"Okay, good thing she's our ally, got to love having the Wrath God on my side. Perunious' posture relaxed a bit, and he smiled proudly as he spoke.
"You are correct in that assessment, Tom. And to answer your question regarding your planet's strength, you're correct. Your world is in fact a special case, one we've all taken notice of. That's not to say man has not become some of the most powerful Gods across the galaxies themselves." Perunious quickly answered. I felt my face contorting in confusion at the idea of humans from another planet, let alone ones that became gods.
"You see, your species has a habit of being much, much more…'resourceful' than other awakened races. Mainly due to a severe lack in inherent specializations. This being equally true in your history of particularly impressive individuals, allowing them to expedite their objectively longer road to Godhood."
"But you kind of look like a person. What were you before you became a god?" I interjected, curiously looking him up and down.
"Lightning, boy." Perunious thundered back. I nodded, more embarrassed at not guessing that than in understanding.
"As I was saying, you humans are historically resourceful, boasting some of the highest population of chosen. For billions of years, humans have known to seek blessings from deities who long learned the secrets to glorious power and freedom." Perunious said, quickly replacing his annoyed scowl with an amused grin. Leaning over his tub, the god wrapped his utterly massive arm around my shoulder, making me look like a toy under a child's care as incredibly sharp energy licked off my back.
"Gods, my young Chosen, are man's best friend."