In a calm, measured voice, El said, "I received a revelation from the beings."
Of course, this was not true. El smirked inwardly. There is no revelation from the Beings. Though I received Marks of Divinity from them and they became my favourers, I did not speak with them, nor did they grant me insight. Claiming a revelation is simply how I will manipulate them.
"A revelation from the beings?" The mysterious man's voice resonated through the chamber. He tilted his head slightly forward, curiosity evident, waiting for El to elaborate.
"Bring me new clothes," El commanded, his eyes fixed on his own body rather than on the mysterious man.
Immediately, three women in red-and-black robes entered through the chamber door. In their hands, they carried a loose white robe that flowed to the ground and a long black scarf.
They approached quickly. The women dressed him in the white robe, draping the black scarf around his neck with precision. One of them produced a golden chained cross from her pocket and fastened it around him before they all hurriedly withdrew. The door sealed behind them, leaving only silence.
El cleared his throat quietly.
"A war will begin twenty-eight days from now, almost a full month. The White Castle and its ruler will wage war against us," he said, his voice low but steady.
"During that time—before I received these powers—I was not even here. You slacked. The ritualists, your disciples, they all halted their runic refinements, their training. Their faith withered away like dust, their affinity and devotion crumbled upon slackened prayers," El said, his voice calm but edged with reproach.
He paused, letting the weight of his words settle.
"Have you forgotten what war is like?" he growled, then composed himself, adopting an indifferent expression. "Twenty-eight days from now, in my vision, the Black Castle lies in ruins. Our walls are used as stepping stones, while their leader plants their flag upon your head," he said softly, eyes locking with the Driver's.
His gaze shifted to the mysterious man on the throne. His voice softened, sorrowful, almost on the verge of tears.
"And I see your body lying lifeless across the red carpet, atop the bodies of countless ritualists."
"The White Castle and its leaders' triumph in this war, expanding their territory, becoming the first Ritualistic City in the Southern World…"
He paused, letting the silence deepen.
"That is," he said quietly, his tone low and measured, "if you did not have me."
The Driver and the mysterious man remained frozen, caught in awkward silence as El's revelation hung in the chamber like a heavy fog.
After several moments, the mysterious man rose from his throne and moved to stand beside the Driver.
Breaking the stillness, his voice echoed across the room. "So, what do you suppose we do?"
"There is nothing we can do…" El replied, his tone sorrowful, his head shaking slightly in quiet dissatisfaction.
He observed as anticipation drained from their faces, replaced by sorrow and dread.
A small, inward smile touched El's lips. Feeling the moment, he wove his influence with deliberate care, using the subtle power of his words to shift the mood.
"But train your men," he said, voice firm and commanding. "All ritualists must perform no fewer than five rituals per day to strengthen both their devotion and their runic refinements. As for combat, I will summon an army within their minds. A quarter of your men will face this army nightly for twenty-eight nights before sleep. By the time the war begins, they will have levelled up, each reaching Rank Z."
He let the words settle, letting the weight of expectation and hope mingle with the earlier dread.
Of course, this too was a lie—another thread in the web El wove to manipulate them. If the combat ritualists in this castle were Level Two of C Rank in the Mortal Realm, then even after twenty-eight days of his 'training,' they would barely reach Level Three of Rank CCC in the Mortal Realm. A wicked smile crept across El's face.
Seeing that neither the Driver nor the mysterious man had posed any questions or spoken further, El descended from the altar with measured, quiet steps. Each footfall pressed gently against the delicate flowers beneath him.
He approached his group, the hem of his white robe brushing softly against the petals and placed a hand on Fe Yuan's back in a brief, reassuring gesture.
In silence, they left the chamber, leaving the Driver and the mysterious man behind, their minds heavy with the weight of his words and the seeds of doubt he had sown.
| … |
A being dressed in a black suit settled onto a black throne at the head of a long table. Around the table, similar entities occupied other black thrones, their faces hidden behind a shifting white fog that obscured their identities from one another.
There were seven thrones aligned along each length of the table, forming two opposing rows. At the width of the table stood two larger seats.
One of those seats was occupied by the man in the black suit at the head of the table. His posture was composed, and his presence steady and deliberate.
Some of the remaining thrones sat empty, their dark surfaces untouched, as though awaiting beings who had chosen not to attend. The vacant seats did not diminish the gravity of the gathering. Instead, they made the chamber feel larger, colder, and more deliberate in its silence.
At the centre of the table rested a glowing orb, pulsing faintly in the stark white space. Black smoke coiled from it, drifting upward like a living shadow.
At the far end, a figure unlike the others took his place. He was dressed in an immaculate bronze suit and rested a silver cane against the table. His throne was larger, broader, and more imposing. He crossed his left leg, inclining his head forward, hands folded neatly upon the table as his gaze lingered on the orb.
"Even though we have all blessed him with numerous Marks of Divinity and have become his favourers," he said, his voice dignified yet edged with subtle annoyance and a trace of amusement, "for some unknown reason… even I, a True God," he continued, emphasizing the weight of his title, "cannot seem to unravel this boy."
"We need someone to monitor our Chosen Apostle and ensure he does not stray," the True God said, amusement faintly threading through his voice. The white fog around him pulsed once, subtly disturbing the sterile space.
"Send the Crow."
"That Crow?" a god seated along the left length of the table asked. Doubt edged his tone. He wore a golden suit that radiated a soft aura, a small hat resting neatly upon his head, white gloves fitted over his hands.
"Yes," the True God replied, his voice cooling. "We will monitor our dear apostle. And we will protect him."
The golden-clad god inclined his head and clapped twice. The sound was dense, resonant, echoing across the white expanse.
In an instant, a figure appeared.
He wore a black trench coat that reached his knees, a fitted waistcoat, and a crisp shirt beneath. Black trousers and polished boots completed his attire. A top hat shadowed his features, and a slender curved cane rested in his white-gloved hand. Black smoke seeped from his form as white fog obscured his eyes.
He stepped behind the True God's throne, removed his hat, and offered a gentleman's bow.
"I greet my fellow Beings," he said smoothly. "How may I serve?"
"El is our apostle, our most cherished," the True God commanded in a low, resonant tone. "Observe him from the shadows. If possible, align yourself with him. Become his ally. Protect him with all your strength. Be his watcher. Be the one in whom he may confide. If he stands at death's door, save him. If he does not, worship and offer your praise."
He paused.
"Your task is to serve and befriend. Though he is still a mortal, he shows great potential. As I have said, become his friend…
Nuez."
The man in black lowered his head slightly.
"Yes."
As soon as the crow left, the True God continued speaking.
"Then let us turn his Flaw against him. The Destined cannot remain untouched. Whether blessing or calamity, the threads of many things are fated to gather around him in the end. This time, let the thread that descends be one the heavens themselves would refuse to name."
"If this is what you mean," one of the gods said, lowering his voice, "are you suggesting we initiate… 'that'?"
"Yes," the True God replied. "From time to time, great things must happen. Tribulations must be born, and our creations must be tested. The Great Depression. The Great Starvation. The Great Wars. The Great Hardship. The Great Deaths… All of these are examples of the turbulent eras. And this time, this Great event will happen because of you." He smiled as his gaze fell on the orb resting on the long black table.
He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in. Then, in a low, commanding voice, he declared, tapping the table lightly,
"Initiate the Ragnarok."
| … |
El and the others walked through the brightened hall, the same hall through which they had entered the chamber.
Fei Yuan walked forward and joined his side. "You really are a ritualist now, and a powerful one."
El smirked faintly. "Not really. I have not even tested my powers, nor have I understood them. I am still a small ant surrounded by humans who can crush me with their foot. The only weapon I have is my tongue and my mind," he replied indifferently, looking ahead.
Fei Yuan smiled faintly. "I have a question."
"What is it?" El asked, his tone carrying a hint of curiosity.
"First of all, why did he call you father if I'm older than you? Although, because of our identity, we are now zero years old, in our true form, I'm twenty-three, and you are merely seventeen."
"Well, I am the leader of this group, and I do wear their attire. Because of this, they see me as their own son, and they see you as foolish children tagging along," El replied with a faint laugh.
Fei Yuan gave a forced smile in return, shrugged off his words, and nudged him slightly. "Is the revelation really true?" he asked.
El immediately went silent upon hearing his question.
"No, of course it isn't," El replied through internal communication, cautiously trying to avoid anyone overhearing him. "It's just our way of controlling and manipulating the organisation. Twenty-eight days from now might become their deathbed."
Arroz, hearing their conversation, walked forward in quiet steps and took the other side of El. "So then, what's the plan for the revelation? You know you can't just lie to them," Arroz warned. Although El was speaking to Fei Yuan through internal communication, the link was established with everyone's mind. If Fei Yuan spoke to Seraph, for example, Shingen would hear them.
"Well, there are many other ritualists besides the ones in the chamber. There exists an academy beneath the Black Castle called the Black Academy. The academy has hundreds of ritualists, teachers to govern and instruct them, and a Headmaster who is directly associated with both the driver and the mysterious man," El replied.
"Because of the revelation, the Headmaster of the Black Academy would have been notified by now."
"So?" Arroz asked in anticipation, wanting to hear the full plan.
"We need to claim our position in this situation. We must take charge of the ritualists of the Black Academy and bring them under our control. If we do nothing after declaring that lie, they will know we deceived them, and we might be executed. After that, I need to lead them into the light while also guiding them to their doom."
As soon as El finished speaking, no one responded. It seemed they had all understood perfectly.
Silence regained its authority and settled smoothly between them. No questions were asked. Nothing more needed to be said. Only quiet footsteps echoed through the hall, accompanied by the steady rhythm of their hearts.
As they exited the hall, a boy stood before them; no older than eighteen, blocked their path. He wore a black robe that flowed freely to the ground, and a golden necklace hung around his neck. His long white hair fell down his back like a calm river, and his blue eyes were as deep as the sea.
With a warm yet timid smile, he introduced himself.
"My name is Elias," he began in a soft voice. He lifted a hand to rub the back of his head. "I heard you are quite new to the Descent of the God's Domain. I was instructed by the Man to assist you with anything you need, accompany you to your chambers, and ensure you are settled."
El smiled faintly at the boy. "Yes. Please lead us, Elias."