Chapter 80

Frosk…


The contest was going to continue tomorrow with him fighting in the match and he was trying to calm his nerves by cleaning up the armor that Marcus had made for him. He looked over every metal plate and leather strap. He made sure that no detail was out of place and that it was still in perfect shape.

However, as much as he tried his best to prepare, he could not shake the nervousness he felt as it would be the first time he had fought in battle since the end of the Mordrinite War. The very same war that had caused Azazel to leave Forrosa.

He hasn’t felt confidence in his own strength since that war and has always thought that he had only survived the end due to a fluke.

Taking on two champions wielding two of their own unholy armaments after they had already destroyed his own in an earlier battle…

In his mind, there was no logical reason he should have won that battle and yet… he did.

“Are you still holding doubts?” the voice of Azazel appeared behind him.

Frosk, startled from his sudden appearance in his room, jumped from what he was doing before he saw Azazel’s face and knelt in his presence.

Rather than his usual armor that he typically wore, he was instead wearing a black and white suit and his beard had been trimmed nicely.

“You may rise and talk with me casually. There is no need to be so formal with me,” he said.

“Lord Azazel…, I didn’t know that you would come to visit me...and dressed in something different than your usual appearance,” Frosk said shakily as he rose.

“My clothes…? It is of no concern. I have decided to assume the identity of King Razel’s retainer during the contest so I can have a good view of each battle. But aside from that, I decided to come here and offer you some words of wisdom in the hopes that it might aid you in your fight. I sense that you are still doubting your own strength since...back then,” he said as he walked over to stand next to him.

Frosk let out a sigh as he said, “I’ve just been feeling nervous about all of this. You and King Razel have both made me the single champion to represent Forrosa while also putting me in the role of witnessing the coming of our lord...and yet I don’t feel adequate.”

“Why do you feel this way? Is it perhaps because of your performance during the war and your inaction since then?”

“Y-yes...that is mainly why. By all accounts, I should not have survived or won that battle. However, I somehow managed to kill them both.”

Azazel put his chin in his hand as he was deep in thought before he asked, “You attribute your victory to being nothing more than luck? A simple fluke? Because if you truly believe that, then I must assure you, that is complete nonsense.”

Hearing Azazel dismiss his words so completely frustrated Frosk, and as much as he wanted to shout back at him, he held himself back.

“Then how would you explain it? I may have been struck by the scarlet bolt during the battle but I was a hairsbreadth away from death. I would have died without that power,” Frosk said.

“And yet, in the moment that you were about to die at their hands, you faced faced them and still refused to yield. Even after I had felt like giving up during that time much to my own shame, you continued on without me. It is my firm belief that our lord of wrath had watched your battle and seen the strength in your eyes. He watch you fight wholeheartedly and seen that you had earned the strength to win. Even without the unholy armaments that you had lost, even without the strength that our lord granted you, you were still strong enough to push back against them. It was only after you had been pushed to your limit and still willing to fight and defeat them, did he recognize your will and grant you strength.”

Hearing those words, Frosk looked into Azazel’s eyes.

The man’s eyes shone with a stern yet honest expression. He was fully sincere with his words.

Frosk swallowed his feeling of self doubt and looked down at his right hand, rough with callouses and clenched it into a fist.

Frosk’s own magic, which infused his own shadows with imaginary mass and granted him greater strength when he wrapped himself in the same shadows, clung to his skin and surged with power.

Azazel’s words and the thought that his lord had chosen him gave him a stronger sense of determination.

He squeezed his fist even further, the muscles in his arms tightening, and bolts of red lighting sparking on the surface of his skin.

He stood up straight, held his fist against his chest in salute, and said, “Whatever orders you give me, I will follow them.”

Azazel then smiled and replied, “Then I order you to achieve victory at all costs and honor our lord of wrath.


Camilla…


Queen Hylla and Princess Hilda were both staying in a room along with Geirolul who was suffering the insults coming from both of them. She knelt before them as they berated her for losing so completely against that woman Nashandra.

Camilla and Raum both were watching them from afar within Duranell’s walls.

Watching them put Geirolul down, she couldn’t help but feel sympathetic as she knew the overwhelming strength of that abomination of death magic. She also wouldn’t want to fight against her ever again.

Camilla’s attention, however, was not fixated on any of them, but rather on the spear in Princess Hilda’s right hand.

The spear that was rightfully her own.

“You seem especially focused tonight Camilla. It looks like you have already planned out your next move,” Raum said.

“I have. After I have crushed my opponent in my first match, I will face off against Princess Hilda and humiliate her in front of the false queen and everyone else. Afterwards, I will take the spear Ichor Doru from her corpse and reclaim it,” she said firmly.

She was confident in her own plan so much that she felt no amount of words would be enough to convince her to back down.

However, she was curious…

“Now that we have come to Duranell to join in the contest, what do you intend to do?” Camilla asked.

Raum was silent for a moment as he contemplated how he would answer that question.

When he finally did answer, he said, “I will simply continue to show my devotion to Moyako through my effort in battle, and defeat every enemy I face, even if I do have to fight the God of Wrath.”

Camilla nodded as if that was the kind of response she was expecting before she returned her attention back to Hylla and Hilda.

She felt that she was content with that answer until she realized the answers of what she had just heard.

“Wait…, did you say the God of Wrath? I thought that he was just a myth. The coming of the three gods of the final age, it can’t be true…can it?” Camilla asked.

She had heard the stories of the three unnamed gods that would be born into this world and usher in the so called ‘final age’. Yet, she never thought about it beyond it being more than just a story.

Raum smiled as he said, “Yes. The God of Wrath, unnamed as he is, will appear and fight in the contest of champions; and you will meet him yourself.”

Camilla went silent for a moment when she heard this and pulled away from her perch and out of sight to sit down.

“Raum…, what do you know of the three unnamed gods?” she asked.

He sat down and joined her, his yellow eyes illuminating the beautiful face of the female vessel he inhabited.

He took a deep breath and looked straight into Camilla’s eyes with an unnerving expression on her face.

“Before this world that we know as Erebus came into existence, there existed another world called Terra. This world existed in a universe separate from this own and was the progenitor of all other universes,” he said.

Camilla’s face was set in shock at the idea of other universes existing aside from their own. Of course, she knew that there were other worlds from what Moyako had told them, but as far as other universes and realities were concerned, that was a whole other shock on its own.

That aside, she wasn’t sure what Raum was alluding to with the talk of other universes but decided not to interrupt.

“In Terra’s universe there was a war that predated the gods, the beasts that roam the world, and all of humanity that rules the lands. This war was between a race of beings so powerful that they violated any sense of reason or logic. Their existence represented the most primal of concepts, yet their strength was even greater than what those concepts represented. Truly omniscient, omnipresent, and all powerful creatures known as Primordials. When the war began, there were seven. Their names were Styx, Thanatos, Aurgelmir, Apophis, Nyx, God, and the first being to exist in all of creation throughout all time, Erebus,” Raum said, sending chills down Camilla’s spine.

“B-but...Erebus is the name of our world...how could he-?” she tried to say but Raum cut her off.

“After the war had ended with God being the sole victor, Erebus came to this universe, crafted a world out of his own corpse, and hid his presence within this world. Only three primordials survived the end of the Primordial War, with the others staying in hiding even after death. Those of which that still live are Thanatos, the personification of death, Styx, the personification of dreams, and God, the personification of existence itself.”

Listening to this made her head hurt trying to absorb all the information but what confused her the most is to how it was related to the three unnamed gods.

“How is all of this mess connected to the three unnamed gods?” she asked.

“Well...the Primordial war isn’t truly over as God is still alive and even in death, Erebus has not conceded. Erebus attempted to create new primordials by meshing his corpse with that of Aurgelmir’s to create Ordovis while also meshing the corpses of Nyx and Apophis to create Nøkkra. However, that failed as King Dagon, a human with such an impossibly powerful will, subjugated both gods and later turned himself into a god many times more powerful than both of them combined. Humanity’s will must have been far more powerful than Erebus realized as it he did not expect a man to kill a god and replace him with his own power. Such a circumstance would be seen as illogical, impossible, and beyond any sense of reason, yet it happened. Then, shortly after the end of the Amaskian War, a message was delivered that foretold the coming of three unnamed gods that would become the new primordials to deliver us beyond the final age,” Raum said, to which Camilla could not completely understand.

Hearing this information made her feel insignificant and her goals of regaining her kingdom meaningless in the scope of what she had heard.

“W-What does this mean for me then? If these three primordials are to be born into this world during our lifetime, then what of my goals? What of everyone’s goals? Does it even matter anymore?” she asked.

Hearing this and wearing a scowl on his face, Raum angrily replied, “Of course it matters. Every action we take has some weight to it as everything happens for a reason. Simply learning this information does not invalidate your goals or change the fate of this world, but rather it solidifies it. You wanted me to tell you what I knew of the three unnamed gods, and so I told you. It is up to you what to do with that information. Deepen your understanding of the world and of the presence of these gods, harness their strength if you can, and use it to achieve your goals. Knowledge is power. Use it.”


Artemis…


With tomorrow being the day of her first battle in the contest, she wanted to enjoy a nice long soak in her bath and relax. She didn’t want any stress to distract her from winning.

Of course, she didn’t have any real motivation for participating in the contest but she couldn’t just refuse the challenge and opportunity to test her strength. Her pride as a warrior and as a god was enough for her to fight and enjoy the competition.

Also, it served as a distraction from having to think about how she was going to explain herself to Selene that she is her mother.

The appropriate time would surely present itself to her as she felt that she was in no rush to tell her.

But just as she was stepping out of the bath and wrapping a towel around her body, she heard a knock at the door.

She rolled her eyes in annoyance and began cursing in ancient Greek as she walked to the front door of her room.

When she pulled open the door and came face to face with Ruvick.

Upon seeing him, she was surprised at first but it then turned to anger as she asked, “It is late. Why are you here?”

Ruvick looked her up and down as he took note of the fact that she was naked save for the towel wrapped around her body. Her breasts were barely kept out of view by the piece of cloth she lazily held up with one hand as she held the door open. The towel itself was also not that large as it barely reached below her waistline and left little to the imagination. Her well defined thighs were still slick with bathwater.

Artemis didn’t put much effort in trying to discourage the perverted eyes of horny men as most people were warded off by the constant release of spiritual energy emanating from her soul.

Ruvick however, took in every detail.

“Modesty is not your strong suit is it?” he asked.

She didn’t entertain the question as she walked away from the door, silently inviting him inside.

As he entered her home and closed the door behind him, he watched as she sat down on her couch and threaded her fingers through her white hair. As she swept her fingers through, drops of water flicked off of her head and dripped down her back.

When Ruvick found a chair to sit down in, he added another comment, “Not only is your sense of modesty lacking, but your casual use of profanity is unbecoming of a woman. Were you raised in a barn, because where are your manners?”

“What do you want Ruvick? I am trying to prepare for tomorrow. I don’t want any unnecessary stress, and I’m sure that the next words to come out of your mouth will be more than troubling,” she said stiffly.

He folded his arms in front of his chest as he stared at her with a disapproving look on his face.

“I am losing my respect for you while you are speaking to me with hardly a piece of cloth covering your extremities,” he said as he snapped his fingers.

In an instant, her entire body was dried of water, hair neatly combed, and dressed in undergarments, a shirt that hid her cleavage and shorts.

Artemis simply looked at him with a glare.

“I sleep naked dammit! Don’t dress me without my permission!” she spat at him angrily.

He let out a sigh of exasperation as he said, “Very well, but show some form of modesty around me. My sexual organs may no longer be functional, so it is not as if you are at risk of my advancements. However you are not setting a good example for others to follow by acting like this.”

Artemis simply folded her arms underneath her breasts while angling her head back as if to look down on him. Doing this caused her arms to tug on her shirt and angling her neck back caused her breasts to be pulled upwards. As if in defiance of his request for modesty, she insultingly displayed her cleavage in front of him.

“You are in my home now. I will act how I wish,” she said.

“You are hopeless.”

“You are a...a prude,” she said as she had to think for a moment to find the proper insult to use before smiling triumphantly.

“I fail to remember the last time you acted this childish,” Ruvick said, admitting defeat.

“Get to the point of why you came here,” she ordered as she crossed her legs and reclined on her couch.

“I only thought that you would like to know that your daughter has now returned to Duranell yesterday,” he said without a hint of emotion on his face.

Not only was it the statement itself, but it was also the phrasing that caused her to flinch.

“W-wait, returned to Duranell? What do you mean?” she asked, curious and annoyed at the vague words he had used.

A faint smile played on his lips as he said, “Well, Selene went on her first date with a man. I wasn’t there to observe as I did not want to ruin the moment, but I’m sure you would like to know anyways.”

Leaping towards him at slightly slower than the speed of light, Artemis cleared the distance between them in an instant and grabbed Ruvick’s shoulders, shaking him.

“WHO?! Who did she go with?!” she asked in a demanding tone.

Ruvick then made a show of slowly turning his head away from her and averting his eyes, almost as if on purpose to agitate her. His failure to hid the smirk on his face only served to confirm the fact that he was staying silent to make her mad.

“Tell me dammit!” she shouted as she shook him harder and spouted off dozens of Greek words of profanity.

After a few minutes of being shaken and having loud swear words screamed in his ears, he finally turned his head to look her in the eyes.

“Would it hurt you to say please?” he asked.

“Please tell me,” she said, with the equal amount of respect in her voice as a rusty sword being shoved in one’s face.

“She had a nice pleasant date with Marcus in Forrosa,” he said, maintaining an infuriatingly calm tone.

Hearing that, she went as stiff as a block of wood. It seemed that she was struggling to process the information that just traveled from her ears to her brain.

He decided not to wait for her to pull herself away from him as he grabbed hold of her waist and lifted her off of him before gently setting her back down on the ground.

“I will leave you to sort that out on your own. Once you do, perhaps you can give Selene some dating advice, mother to daughter. Goodbye now,” he said gleefully as he walked out of the door.

She stayed frozen like that for about fifteen minutes before she eventually made her way to bed without stripping in the nude.

She did not even pull the sheets and blankets over her body as she flopped down onto her bed like a dead fish, face planting the comforter and struggling to fall asleep as the thought of her daughter dating Marcus wracked her brain.


Hours later, when midnight had long passed, the only words that left her mouth as she had spent all that time thinking over the fact that her daughter was dating Marcus Wright was, “I’m going to kill him.”