The Outergod's Avatar-Chapter 83: The End of the Beginning

Izikel stood there with his clothes stained in blood, staring at the flawless figure standing before him. He was perfect in every way possible.

"Izikel, I have enjoyed watching your journey so far. In such a short time, you have proven to me that you have the capability to achieve great things," Oroborn’s voice echoed, smooth and imposing.

"I knew that only someone like you, who puts his desires above all things, is fit to serve me."

"Why did you bring me here?" Izikel asked, his voice shallow, filled with despair.

His eyes were hollow, and his body sagged, drained not from exhaustion but from the weight of the life he had just taken. Though he knew it had to be done, that didn’t make it any easier. The bloodstains on his hands were a constant, damning reminder.

"I already told you," Oroborn replied, his voice growing sharper. "You are still too weak to know. And you don’t expect me to explain myself to my servant, do you?"

The voice grew colder.

"And if you really want to know the truth, I didn’t bring you here. You sacrificed your life to come here... or have you forgotten?"

Izikel’s jaw tightened. His voice cracked. "Of course not. How could I? I remember everything... including that seal on the envelope. You used it to make me kill myself, didn’t you?"

Oroborn chuckled. It was graceful and ominous in the same breath. "That seal had some enchantment, yes. But in a world like the one you came from, it could hardly control your mind."

"All it did was suggest the idea. In the end, it was you who chose to take your own life. I hope you learn to live with that choice."

There was a long pause.

"And if you think of doing it again," Oroborn added, his tone now coated in menace, "just remember—your soul belongs to me. When you die, it will return to me, and I will make you suffer for all eternity. There will be no peace. So... don’t."

He let the words hang in the air like a guillotine.

"Now, if you have nothing else to say, I will be taking my leave."

"No, wait. There’s something," Izikel said quickly, his voice rising, life slipping back in. "I want to anoint a saint—and I need to know you will accept her."

Oroborn paused. "Oh? Is it that girl?"

He smirked. "Fine. But tell me—why are you going this far for her?"

Izikel didn’t answer right away. He thought about it.

"I... don’t know."

And that was the truth. He didn’t. He had no reason to kill the Legion Commander for Lyzah. She wasn’t his family. She wasn’t his responsibility. He owed her nothing. And yet, he went out of his way to protect her.

Oroborn sighed, as if disappointed. "I don’t think you’re doing this just for her. But I will allow you your choices—for now. Just don’t lose sight of your purpose. You serve me, and I expect nothing less."

With that, Oroborn vanished. His presence left a sharp chill in the air.

The violet flames of the Altar dimmed slightly in his absence. Izikel stood in silence, watching the flicker, until the sound of cautious footsteps broke the stillness.

"Izikel?" a voice called from behind.

It was Lyzah.

Her eyes widened the moment she saw the burning rock.

"Is that... an Altar?"

He nodded and raised his head, taking a quick glance at it.

"This is my Altar. To an Outergod known as Oroborn. He is neither kind nor merciful... but he will accept you as a saint. That way, when they destroy the Old Tree, you’ll be safe."

"An Outergod?" Lyzah stepped back. Her face was pale. "No... I can’t... You can’t worship a Chaos god."

Her eyes scanned the chamber, and that was when she noticed the blood on the floor. Her breath caught. Her thoughts grew darker. 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝓮𝒘𝙚𝙗𝒏𝙤𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝒐𝙢

"Where is the Legion Commander?" she asked, her voice trembling.

"It can’t be..."

She looked at him with growing horror.

Izikel didn’t flinch. "I know it’s not what you expected. But for now, you need to think about your safety. Flavius was going to kill you. And when the Inquisitors hear about what happened today, they will come after you. These people lose all sympathy the moment Chaos is involved."

"So your solution is to make me serve a Chaos god?" she snapped. "Isn’t that worse?!"

"Not if we hide it. We destroy the Old Tree before anyone finds out. Then they’ll be forced to believe you’re not the Anchor."

That was the natural order of things: when the Altar is destroyed, the Anchor is assumed dead. Only people like Sophia or the other Druids might question it since they knew about Lyzah before the whole incident, but even they wouldn’t want harm to come to Lyzah so they wouldn’t dig too deep.

Lyzah hesitated, trying to process it all.

"I—I don’t..." she murmured.

It seemed like for Lyzah, it wasn’t as easy of a decision as Izikel thought it would be, and he could easily see why. Unlike him and Oroborn, the people of this world revered and worshiped their gods. Their lives, purpose, and destiny were practically governed by these almighty beings.

Their control wasn’t direct, but it was still present. The Druids eating only plants was one such control. Their whole lives were built on these beliefs and laws that they followed to appease their gods. One could say that these laws made up the faith itself—and in a world where the gods truly existed, it wasn’t just blind faith.

It was a connection to an almighty being. And just like Oroborn appeared to him, it was possible that the Verdant Mother had also appeared to her before. And that wasn’t all.

When he ignited the Altar, before he received the Fate Scripture, he was told that his fate was now tied to the Altar. Assuming it was the same for everyone, it meant that they were using these Altars as a tool to surrender their fate to whatever god they were serving in exchange for power. They were literal contracts, binding the soul to a god.

By attempting to switch faith, you would be reclaiming your fate and offering it to another god—all after receiving their power. It wasn’t difficult to understand why most gods wouldn’t be pleased with this and would curse people who attempted it.

But Oroborn had said nothing about punishment.

And the Verdant Mother—she was known for her mercy.

"Lyzah... there’s no other way," Izikel reminded her softly.

She was still for a moment, then her shoulders dropped. Her voice came out quiet.

"Okay... let’s do it."

With that, Izikel quickly read a book that would teach him the process of anointing a saint.

He made a shallow cut across his palm and let the blood gather on his fingertip. Then he put it inside the flame of the Altar.

The blood ignited instantly, but the fire didn’t burn him. It danced on his skin like silk.

Lyzah knelt before the Altar.

Izikel stepped toward her, his hand hovering above her head. Then, gently, he touched her forehead with his burning finger.

The violet flame passed from him to her.

It remained on her head for several seconds. She shuddered as the chaotic energy of the Altar rushed into her soul. Izikel could feel it too. He sensed her connection to the Verdant Mother being devoured, piece by piece. A new bond formed—between Lyzah, himself, and Oroborn.

But the connection was personal. The way he felt Oroborn was different from the way she would.

He couldn’t guide her. She would have to understand Oroborn on her own.

The violet flame faded from her head, and Lyzah collapsed into his arms.

But she was still breathing.

’The process must have taken a toll on her soul’ he thought.

He exhaled deeply and gently lifted her.

As he looked down at her peaceful face, he knew—without doubt—that he had made the right decision.

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[End of Volume One: Altars of the Gods]

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"Altars are ancient monuments crafted from diverse materials, each capable of harnessing holy essence. They must be kept sacred, for they serve as direct conduits to godly beings. The souls of Anchors and saints are bound to these Altars, tying their fate to the will of the gods. Unless it is a Chaos Altar, no human sacrifice should ever be performed, doing so risks corrupting the sanctity of the Altar.

Altars take many forms, such as ancient trees or burning stones. They have different properties and possess the ability to convert and store various types of energy

To a Divine believer, the Altar is of utmost importance and must be protected at all costs—for the destruction of one’s Altar may well mean the destruction of one’s soul."

— Izikel Vau-Leotard