It was a void. Nothing could be seen or heard. Clarsen was standing on nothing but he wasn't falling.
He couldn't utilize his magic, nor could he freely move his body. It was like several restraints were weighing down on him. And he knew that if not the deity beside him, he would have fallen down by now.
This was the effect of this place. A jail made just for this personage, chained up across from him.
Her head was hanging low. Hands cuffed and chained to two stone pillars on which it was written in bold letters;
'Traitor'
She was the only living Titan Goddess, the others died in the war eons ago.
[I will ask once again: are you really sure, my child? This deity is more complicated than the stories offer.]
Clarsen shrugged, "I'd like to take the chance."
He willed his body to move forward, and he levitated forward.
Once he was a few meters away he called out, "Nice to meet you, Lady Tiamuth."
"Who?" The answer arrived unexpectedly soon.
"Someone who took your revenge by betraying Argrouth."
The personage flinched. That name...
She finally raised her head.
Deep aquamarine eyes met jet-black eyes.
For a moment, Clarsen was utterly mesmerized by her beauty.
Her face was a masterpiece of symmetry, every delicate feature carved to perfection, framed by cascades of silver hair that shimmered like moonlight on a tranquil lake.
Her deep, luminous eyes held an eternity of emotions—smoldering anger from ages past, now intertwined with the intoxicating glow of newfound elation. Each subtle expression she wore felt like the unveiling of a divine secret, a sight so breathtaking it left him momentarily breathless.
"You...aren't lying. You actually backstabbed that mothe*fuc*er, eh? Ah, I wish I could have seen his face."
Clarsen grinned, leaning in with a wicked glint in his eyes. "I can tell you how he looked. You know, he—" he contorted his face into an exaggerated mask of shock, widening his eyes comically and slackening his jaw. "'Wha—You... how dare—' Pfft!" He snickered, shaking his head. "I swear, if his brain hadn't been busy shutting down, he might've actually tried to process the betrayal. But nah, all he managed was some garbled nonsense before he hit the floor like a sack of rotten meat."
"Hahahahahah!" A laughter which, despite being loud, sounded extremely melodious, resonated as Tiamuth laughed to her heart's content.
For a moment, the Goddess of Fate thought if she really did the right thing letting two loose screws meet?
Soon Clarsen calmed down, as he said, "But he will be back, though."
"I know...I told him the recipe for dividing his soul."
Clarsen hummed. How can he forget that all those years ago, when the Demon Lord was defeated for the first time, Tiamuth was on his side?
Who told Clarsen about the whole story?
Well, the fool named Argrouth.
Clarsen's expression turned sober as he said, "So? You gonna help me defeat that thing? You will get your revenge through me."
Tiamuth was the Goddess of Spirits, and if he got her blessings, Clarsen wouldn't be under the other Goddess' control. After all, unless they don't bless him, they won't be able to control him.
He sought Tiamuth as his patron not just because she was a strong fallen Goddess but also because he didn't want to be a puppet once again.
"Why should I help you? I am a Divine entity who grows bored easily. I have already gotten over Argrouth, so, why should I help you?"
Clarsen crossed his arms, "Do you want me to beg?"
"Oh, I'd love to see that."
"Not even death can make me beg."
"Cringe. Well, tell me what you can offer, then I might think."
Clarsen heaved a sigh, "You can see the world through me. Won't that be enough as entertainment? I mean, rather than staring at eternal darkness, I will show you the colors of life."
There was nothing more Clarsen could offer. And proposing to liberate her from here would be an utter lie.
The place where Tiamuth is imprisoned is inside a moving dragon that is roaming around the world. So forget about defeating the beast, he wouldn't be able to reach it.
Tiamuth remained silent for a few moments before she tilted her head, "I will grant you my blessing...but you have to promise me one thing."
Clarsen raised his brows, "And what is that?"
"I want to see Masacree-"
[Tiamuth?!] The Goddess raised her voice.
"--of the demons, of course." The Titan Goddess immediately added...however, Clarsen felt that she added the last part only because the Goddess called out.
In response to her request, Clarsen grinned, "Consider your wish fulfilled." He was pretty much frustrated as well, so surely this would be more like self-wish fulfillment.
Tiamuth smiled before she said, "Okay then, go on, kiss me."
Clarsen was taken aback, "Is that the way to bless someone?"
[Not really...]
The Goddess behind them voiced in a tone that said she didn't like what Tiamuth suggested.
Seeing that reaction, Tiamuth grinned before her hair extended and wrapped around Clarsen's waist.
"Ah!" Clarsen was pulled toward the lady before he found his lips covered with unfamiliar warmth.
That kiss overwhelmed his mind and a blinding light rendered him blind.
Just as he was about to lose his consciousness, he heard a few sweet words,
'Don't disappoint me~'
°°°°°°°
"Huh?"
His head was ringing as Clarsen suddenly rose from wherever he was lying.
He looked around and found unfamiliar surroundings.
It had brown walls all around. Damp smell. High ceilings. And a soft bed.
"Where am I..." Clarsen muttered as he rose from the bed.
He felt himself slightly closer to the ground...he was shorter in height.
Previously, he was about 6'4 in height. But now, he feels a lot shorter.
He looked around and found it was a basic room with not many things around. But because of the simplicity, he was able to find a mirror hanging on the wall, not so far away.
Clarsen slowly walked towards the mirror, slightly eager to see what he looked like.
He held no obsession with his face or beauty. He was simply curious.
However, peeking into the mirror was a bad decision.
The moment his eyes landed on the black-haired boy, a throbbing pain shot down his head.
"Ahhhh!" A yelp escaped his throat as he staggered back while clutching his head.
It felt like his head had been banged on concrete several times. This much pain was unbearable even for an ex-militant.
"Arthur?"
He turned toward the source of the voice, instincts flaring to life as he tried taking a battle stance. However, the pain rendered him useless.
His blurry vision caught a blond woman approaching him. However, before he could have said or done anything,
*Thud*
He fell to the ground and fainted.
*********
A/N:- Add the book to your collection.