Chapter 1085 Mortals Against Gods
Chapter 1085 Mortals Against Gods
Artemis descended from the sky, her sealing power reasserting its dominance. The spatial fissures created by her two arrows could not repair themselves within this tower. Her human form reemerged as figures surrounded her, gazing at her with fear.
Freud led the group of hunters, and they all prostrated themselves before the goddess, having witnessed her immense might. Artemis, with a blank expression on her face, as if she had just lost a friend but gained an enemy among the gods, looked down upon them.
"Raise your heads, humans," Artemis instructed, turning her attention toward the dungeon at the bottom of the lake. "The real enemy lies within that dungeon, biding his time to grow stronger. Follow me on a quest to end this ridiculous prophecy."
The hunters nodded and readied their weapons, with Freud at the forefront. Ever since Artemis had revealed herself, they had willingly followed her every command. If the situation demanded it, each of them would lay down their lives for this goddess.
"Your meager strength is useless here, but act as shields to block his escape routes," Artemis commanded with apathetic eyes as she peered through the lingering fog. Her brows furrowed with annoyance. "Even in death, you are so persistent."
Artemis knew the fog would persist for days before dissipating. The moisture clung to her hair, so she used her divine mana to repel it. As her small army of followers marched toward the lakes, a shrouded figure appeared in their path.
"How can the blue dragon still be alive?" Freud asked in confusion, preparing to pounce on the newcomer. However, Artemis took the lead and walked forward, causing him to step back in reverence.
"No creature can withstand an attack blessed by my king," the goddess declared, her gaze fixed on the figure. "You have been watching our battle for some time. Why do you only intervene now?"
"A wise man should always study his enemies," the figure replied in a low-pitched and confident voice. "What brings you to this realm, Artemis?"
"Your tongue will be the cost of this disrespect," Artemis retorted with a smirk, raising her hand to summon her bow once more. But this time, it did not appear. "...what is happening?"
"Even a god can fear the unknown," the shrouded figure commented as he advanced toward her. As the fog parted, not much was revealed, as his cloak concealed his features. "How does it feel to be mortal and helpless?"
Artemis attempted to use her divine powers again, but it was as if her connection to Devaheim had vanished. She couldn't even summon her divine bow, which alarmed her regarding the identity of this mysterious figure.
"What do you want?" Artemis demanded.
"I am not here to fight," the figure stated with a mocking tone as he raised his hand. Strange lights gathered in his fingertips, causing her to feel threatened. "You came to kill someone, and that will not happen."
"Another defender of this so-called demon king?" Artemis asked with a smirk. "His followers are certainly zealous, and he advocates for freedom. It seems he wouldn't mind losing two of his followers just to stall for time."
"Instead of seeking information, how about you turn and leave?" the figure suggested, showing no interest in her banter. His fingers appeared to orchestrate something as a smirk played on his lips. "Perhaps you'd like to experience pain for the first time?"
"I shall ask again... who are you?" Artemis inquired with a frown, her hand clenching into a fist. "How can a mere mortal sever the connection to Devaheim?"
"Your senses have also been obstructed for you to judge me as a mere mortal," the figure replied, snapping his fingers. The lights shot from his fingertips, grazing the goddess's cheek, and blood fell to the ground as her eyes widened in pain. "Consider this a warning that will not be repeated."
Artemis quivered in pain, experiencing a sensation she had long forgotten. The rule that gods do not bleed had been etched into her being, yet in the presence of this mortal, her body seemed as fragile as glass. Her immense pride, however, remained unshaken, preventing her from fleeing.
"Even with just this body, I can..." Artemis began, but before she could finish her thought:
Snap!
Splash!
Her hand fell from her arm, blood gushing like a fountain. Her pride kept her from screaming in agony, but Artemis came close to fainting. She stared at her amputated hand in a state of confusion and terror, raising her eyes to the enigmatic figure before her.
"Just who are you?!" she screamed, her voice hoarse, her features twisted in wrath. However, the figure maintained the same smirk as he brought his two fingers together.
A figure leaped from behind Artemis, charging toward the cloaked man. But before he could snap his fingers again, Freud lunged at him with two axes, driven by his bloodthirst to protect his goddess. With a simple snap, Freud was sent flying.
Boom!
Freud resembled a broken kite as he cut a sorry figure through the air before crashing to the ground, taking several of his comrades down with him. The figure, unscathed, did not pursue the hunter but turned back to Artemis.
"The loss of a body would never kill a god, but what would your king think of you?" the cloaked figure asked, causing Artemis to tremble with fear. "Your pride may be as vast as the moon, but your devotion should know no bounds."
Artemis, her severed hand lying on the ground, gritted her teeth and turned to flee. The hunters followed suit, carrying their unconscious leader.
Within the fog that enveloped the land, the solitary figure of the man seemed to ripple like a mirage. He turned his gaze toward the revealed dungeon, his emotions inscrutable. Then, something began materializing beside him.
"It seems the gods already know about him now," a voice giggled from the materialized creature. The man in the hood turned to the one riding a bicycle and wearing a cloak. "I told you the story had already been written."
"Do you not mourn the death of your equal?" the cloaked man asked the floating spirit. As he cycled around the area, the spirit contemplated an answer.
"Azkahar was a dragon, and I am a spirit. My purpose is to write stories, nothing more. Why should I be attached to one of the characters?"
"This is what the Bookkeeper should be like," the man sighed as he turned toward the dungeon again. "We failed to prevent their meeting, and now the gods know about his existence. Azkahar was too impulsive in this matter."
"Azkahar was all-knowing, and you're the one overly protective of his son," the spirit retorted as it parked the bicycle beside the cloaked figure. "You've been running around for as long as time has existed. When are you going to die, Seref Silvera?"
"No one is allowed to kill me except for him," Seref replied, his eyes shimmering with golden light as he gazed at the hidden dungeon while drinking from the lake. "My death will come, but he must never know the truth."
"Is that a request?"
"This is an order," Seref asserted as he turned to the Bookkeeper Spirit, determination in his eyes. "I know how loose your lips are. If Arthur Silvera ever learns the truth, I will end you."
"This is why you rank at the bottom of the Best Fathers List," the Bookkeeper taunted, pulling out a book from his bag and flipping through it. "You're even worse than those who threw their children into a trench. At least, their children didn't suffer!"
"Suffering is inevitable," Seref sighed as he began walking away. "Arthur is destined to bring down the gods, but... I will find a way to save him before he does."
"You and your father-son duo are truly the most intriguing characters in this universe!" the Bookkeeper exclaimed with glee as he followed Seref, riding his bicycle through the air. "Of course, you are far more complicated than him. That's why I chose to follow you! What's our plan now?"
"I tried to prevent Arthur from meeting the blue dragon, but I failed. The gods now know of his existence, and it won't be long before they discover his true identity. When that happens, Devaheim will descend into chaos. We must prepare for that."
"This is so exciting! Mortals against gods, and a father working in the shadows for his son! You are really the best, Seref Silvera!"