Against The True Gods-Chapter 152: Promised of Fate

It was said that after one’s Will reached a certain stage, one’s actions gained weight and became tangible, in a way that directly and drastically enhanced their power.

At this stage, one’s actions could birth Titled Runes, symbols that would brand themselves into one’s Will. These runes were called Titles.

However, only after reaching this threshold of Will could one access these Titles. Otherwise, they would merely accumulate in the ether, never taking form.

And today, Caine’s True Will had reached that stage. The eye in the skies rewarded him.

It rewarded him not only with the Titled Runes he had accumulated across his many lives but also with the Titled Runes of his fallen summons along with Oldest, Mirror, and Failure’s Titled Runes.

All of them were etched into his crown, and all his future achievements would join them automatically.

A sea of runes majestically cascaded down from the heavens, each one sinking into his crown. The silver fabric of the crown gained rune after rune, each one blazing with power.

Endless power coursed through Caine’s body, flooding him to the point where it felt as though it would shatter him. Yet, the mark of Lady Gaia shone through, sealing and methodically putting this terrifying power to sleep.

< [God Slayer], [Defiant], [Promised of Fate], [Mad Savant], [Progenitor], [Samsara Overlord]… >

The runes continued to accumulate upon his crown.

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From the skies above, threads of gold descended, fusing into his hands and arms. A complex series of tattoos began etching themselves onto his back, but Caine paid it no mind, allowing the process to proceed undisturbed.

Caine glanced down at Uriel’s lifeless body.

He stood still and unmoving, as if nothing of importance were happening—as if this moment was utterly worthless.

What was supposed to be a moment of incredible joy and pride felt like nothing but a lull of silence and heavy indifference.

It was bitter. So bitter that Caine couldn’t help but chuckle amidst it all.

’It’s finally over.’

***

Though Caine himself was indifferent to the moment, the wider world was not.

Far, far away, in the void of all things, a floating platform stood. Made of emerald rocks and entwined vines, it served as the base for a grand and looming tree at its center.

The tree’s leaves were colorless, reflecting infinity and unity at once—a duality of all things and nothingness.

Its trunk was a swirl of every color, with veins of black twisting into beautiful, intricate runes that snaked across it.

The vines of the tree intertwined around the rocks, holding the platform together as its core.

At the foot of this majestic tree stood an old man before a stone tablet embedded in the trunk.

The man was ancient, his back hunched, his bronze skin wrinkled and sagging. Layers of flesh covered his face, leaving only his brilliant brown eyes visible.

He was nothing but skin and bones. The large orange robes he wore hung loosely over his frail frame, exaggerating his thinness.

Yet, despite his appearance, the man’s hands moved faster than any youth’s, writing countless words onto a parchment in his hands.

Suddenly, he froze.

His gaze lifted to the stone tablet before him.

WHOOSH!

An overwhelming aura erupted from him, enough to flatten a world. In an instant, the man regained his youth, transforming into a beautiful, bald figure with bronze skin kissed by the sun and eyes as bright as the stars over a desert night.

His gaze widened, and his hands trembled.

~~

{Noble Ladder of Origin—Youth Ladder}

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[1. Herald of Chaos, Lord Tyrr]

[2. Scion of Heaven, Lord Sarahadah]

[3. Darling of Samsara, Lord Styxia]

[4. Void Childe, Lord Void]

[5. Architect of Perfection, Lord Enumah]

.

.

.

These were the previous rankings of the top five.

But now…

~~~

{Noble Ladder of Origin—Youth Ladder}

[1. Herald of Chaos, Lord Tyrr]

[2. Scion of Heaven, Lord Sarahadah]

[3. Darling of Samsara, Lord Styxia]

[4. Promised of Fate, Lord Lerouge]

[5. Void Childe, Lord Void]

.

.

.

In fifty years, the list had already changed ten times. Yet this shift was monumental.

For longer than the man could remember, the top five had remained unchanged—until ten years ago, when Lord Styxia entered the ranks.

But now, another had ascended into the top five.

This was monumental.

The man fell to his knees, trembling.

"All praise to Lord Lerouge, Promised of Fate!"

Across existence, this scene repeated countless times.

Over and over again, Caine’s name was sung to the heavens:

"All praise to Lord Lerouge, Promised of Fate!"

"All praise to Lord Lerouge, Promised of Fate!"

"All praise to Lord Lerouge, Promised of Fate!"

Yet, far from the celebrations, the news reached the ears of… a certain young Lord.

***

[???—Abode of the Flawless]

In an impossibly vast open hall, seemingly suspended in the skies, a throne of crackling lightning and fire stood.

Upon it sat a figure cloaked in a mantle of thick white aura, unaffected by the throne’s chaotic elements.

Lord Enumah.

"…Hm…" He tapped the armrest of his throne rhythmically, his demeanor a reflection of deep-seated indifference.

And yet, anyone who understood the significance of the Noble Origin Ladder would know: he was furious.

But his anger ran deeper.

The fact that he knew nothing of this so-called "Lord Lerouge" could only mean one thing:

The newcomer was from a lesser realm. A much, much lesser realm.

And yet, he had been dethroned.

First, Enumah had been knocked down by Lord Void—a humiliation he had grudgingly accepted.

Then came Lord Styxia, an unknown figure who had similarly surpassed him.

And now… this.

Enumah had fallen from second to sixth, cast out of the top five entirely.

With his fall, he had lost an opportunity of incalculable importance.

"Interesting. Interesting. Interesting," he muttered, his tapping fingers quickening. The lightning around him grew more chaotic, and the flames surrounding his throne burned with terrifying intensity.

As the Chosen of Perfection, Enumah had long hated not being number one. He had tempered this frustration under his father’s instructions, but now…

"I apologize, father."

Lord Enumah rose from his throne.

He took a single step forward—

And vanished.