Rise of the Rejected Deity from Chaos-Chapter 63 - 62: Journey Out into the World

The others were already uneasy about the way Riena approached and confronted Seiya. Her aggression made them fear how he might react.

Hearing Seiya’s words to Riena, Hayne’s body tensed in alarm, and he instinctively moved to step between them. But he wasn’t the only one on edge. Before he could act, the bulky senior had already stepped forward.

"Riena, enough already," the senior said firmly. His voice carried weight, and Riena averted her gaze, scowling.

Swallowing hard, the senior turned to Seiya, his expression resolute.

"You’re asking us to follow your lead," he said, his voice steady, his face rigid. "How much of our trust can we place in you?"

A heavy silence followed. Seiya offered no response—only a cold, unblinking stare.

The senior’s eyes drifted shut, his lips curving into a tense smile, waiting for an answer that never came. Frustration flickered across his face, his patience wearing thin.

"I can vouch for him," Hayne interjected, raising a hand. "If Seiya says there’s a river ahead, then there is. He doesn’t lie—he has no reason to." His voice was calm, resolute.

Turning to Riena, he continued, "And if he truly wanted to get rid of us, he would have done it back at the facility. He wouldn’t need to lure us anywhere. We’ve all seen what he’s capable of."

"Hmph!" Riena scoffed, turning away sharply, refusing to meet Hayne’s gaze.

The others exchanged glances, realizing the truth in Hayne’s words. If Seiya had intended to dispose of them, he wouldn’t have needed such a roundabout method.

"Let’s move," the bulky senior urged, motioning for the others upfront to advance in the direction given by Seiya.

But just as they were about to leave, two imposing figures emerged, blocking their path.

The group instinctively looked up. Standing before them were two tall young boys, their long black coats billowing in the cool wind. One was bald, his hands tucked into his coat pockets, exuding an air of quiet menace. The other, his black hair shifting with the breeze, held a sleek dagger, its blade catching what little light the area offered.

The dim surroundings obscured their features, but their presence alone sent a clear message.

"Hehhh," the dagger-wielding one mused, a smirk curling his lips. "So these are the rats that wrecked the facility and escaped." His voice dripped with amusement, but his eyes remained sharp. Beside him, the bald one said nothing, his gaze locked onto Seiya and the others.

"What do you think?" the one with the dagger asked, turning to his companion. "Should we bring them back? Or just eliminate them?"

"Eliminate them," The bald one answered without hesitation.

A wave of tension rippled through the group. Hearts pounding. Muscles tensed. Several among them instinctively fell into defensive stances, preparing for a fight.

"Damn it!" The pale senior with red hair spat, his voice thick with frustration. "Did that bastard already break his end of the deal? Sending elites after us the moment we got out?"

"I don’t think so," Hayne interjected, his voice calm despite the situation. "As much of a bastard as he is, he’s a man of his word. These elites were probably called in by some facility workers during the chaos."

Seiya exhaled sharply, irritation flickering across his face. Yet another obstacle had arrived which meant another delay. His expression darkened as he stepped forward, placing himself between his group and the elites.

Turning his head slightly toward Hayne, he spoke with quiet authority.

"Go straight ahead, the way I pointed out. You’ll come across a small building—beside it, there’s an alleyway. Pass through it, and you’ll reach the river." His voice was calm, but firm. "Go on ahead."

With that, he turned back to the elites, his gaze cold and unnerving.

Seiya’s tone left no room for argument, but before Hayne could voice his protest, the dagger-wielding elite lunged toward him, dagger poised to strike, flashing in the dim light.

In a flash of movement before the dagger could descend on Hayne—Seiya appeared behind the elite instantly. With a merciless grip, he seized the elite by the hair and, with sheer force, flung him aside.

The others instinctively leapt back, keeping themselves out of harm’s way. A silent wave of relief passed through them—if Seiya hadn’t intervened, they might have lost yet another person.

The elite who had been thrown aside, maneuvered swiftly, steadying himself in a three-point landing. A knee on the ground, one leg bent with foot planted firmly with a hand pressed on the ground for balance.

He got up, straightening his posture as he approached with an unhurried pace.

"Asking them to go on ahead like we’ll just standby and let any of you leave here alive, heh-heh," he sneered, an eerie grin spreading across his face.

Sensing the gravity of the situation, the bulky senior quickly passed Eiro over to someone else. He moved as if to step forward, ready to join the fight—but the moment Seiya’s blank stare fell upon him, he froze in place.

A nervous smile tugged at his lips as he met Seiya’s unsettling gaze, an unspoken message clear in those cold eyes.

He’s definitely telling me to stay out of this, he thought, maintaining his forced smile at Seiya.

Extending his hand to his side, Seiya grasped his bloodied staff. With a swift motion, he whipped it through the air before letting it rest at his side.

Stepping forward, Seiya positioned himself in front of the two elites, blocking their path with resolute resolve.

"Leave," he commanded coldly to the others behind him, his voice carrying an edge that made it clear he was the one who would face the elites while the others moved on to the river to complete the ritual.

At Seiya’s order, the group, including Hayne, began to leave. Seeing this, the bald elite, who had remained silent until now, crouched low and darted toward Seiya, attempting to slip past him to reach the others. His speed was impressive, but in front of Seiya’s eyes, it was irrelevant. With a precise motion, Seiya planted his staff on the ground and slid the tip between the elite’s legs, expertly forcing one aside.

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Thrown off balance, the elite staggered, falling toward the ground but quickly caught himself, pressing a palm to the ground to steady his weight and regain his balance.

Registering Seiya’s effortless interception that stopped him—even at such high speed—he leapt back, wariness creeping into his nerves.

The two elites, now fully aware of the challenge Seiya posed, attempted to overwhelm him together, but he blocked their advance with ease, just as he had done with one of them before.

Though the two elites were taller and loomed over Seiya, he didn’t so much as lift his gaze to meet their eyes. Keeping his eyes level, he spoke with cold finality. "I told you—I’m not letting any of you through."

Seeing Seiya effortlessly hold the two elites at bay, Hayne and the others, hastened their departure as instructed, trusting Seiya to hold their ground.

The elites made no further attempt to breach Seiya’s defense, recognizing the formidable foe before them—one they knew would be a challenge they couldn’t easily overcome.

As they stood back, scrutinizing Seiya with measured gazes, their eyes eventually locked onto the elite now serving under Seiya.

"Oh? I was so focused on trying to wipe out the small rats that I failed to notice the biggest one among them," The dagger-wielding elite mused mockingly, a smirk tugging at his lips.

He hunched forward with a taunting grin, voice dripping with amusement. "Tell me, what exactly are you doing with the vermin you were supposed to exterminate? Playing tag, perhaps?" His shoulders shook with laughter, his posture loose and taunting.

The elite under Seiya remained silent, as did Seiya himself. Instead, he stepped closer to Seiya, lowering his head slightly to meet his height.

"Strong," he murmured to Seiya.. "They’re strong."

Seiya found the statement irrelevant. To him, it made no difference whether his opponents were men, monsters, or gods—if they stood in his way, they would fall all the same.

Seiya shifted his gaze to his elite, his eyes delivering a wordless command—’fight.’

Understanding the unspoken command, the elite glanced down at his hands, prompting Seiya to follow his gaze. Seiya had not merely broken his wrists but shattered them beyond simple fractures—so they were useless. The pain was immense, but pain had been a constant companion in the facility; enduring it was like second nature.

In response to him strategically telling Seiya he couldn’t fight because his wrists were ruined, Seiya’s gaze went lower—settling on his legs.

"I didn’t break your legs though," Seiya stated coldly, an obvious hint telling him to use his legs that still remained intact.