The Hammer and the Fly (2/5)

As it turns out, Haalfrin hasn't visited his Soul Realm ever since he became a god, so he never personally saw the changes taking place inside.

Before, his Realm was a barren, brown plane with a weapon embedded in the ground for each of the Wills tied to him. Dotting the landscape were pillars of black necrocrystal.

Now, the ground has taken on a more ashy-grey hue with white embellishments streaking through in strange, geometric patterns. Hanging in the sky is an eerie black sun, and at the center of his Realm is a white tree laying on its side. The boundaries of his soul Realm also seem impossibly farther away.

In every way, his Soul Realm resembles the Realm of Everywhere, during the last battle with Drakavar.

…

Other than the Realm's uncanny resemblance to the 4th Dimension, he also notices the countless fissures in the ground, which are constantly spewing more Death Aura.

'Where's this Death Aura coming from?' Haalfrin wonders. There are no battles around me…?'

Haalfrin doesn't figure out the truth for now, but he does learn later, when he has time to do some more research.

As he'll find out, his Divinity is present in every battlefield in every world, due to his Contract with Freyya. After all, SHE exists on every battlefield.

Since his Contractor's Divinity is there, then Haalfrin absorbs some of that battlefield's Aura by proxy.

As it stands, though, Haalfrin can only look at these black fissures and speculate.

…

After tearing his attention away from his constant income of Death aura, he sees countless weapons all buried hallway in the ground – all blade first.

Tied over each of their hilts is a wisp of Spirit Threads, and imbued in the blades is a glowing, silver Will.

Seeing the numberless garden of swords in this plane, Haalfrin doesn't even have to count them to know that there's far more than his 500,000 Wills here. There must be millions? Billions? Trillions? Even more? Who knows?

On top of that, he sees countless more weapons constantly falling from the sky like meteors and landing blade-first into the ground.

Haalfrin doesn't have to wonder why his Soul Realm contains so many Wills. The Ar (7th) Name is what defines the greatness of your Divinity. He knows immediately that all the Wills that land here are here because his Divinity encompassed them when they died.

'I wonder what portion of the Death Realm have their Wills donated to me? Is it the entire Death Realm, or just a portion?'

'No, no, now's not the time to be curious. I clearly have far more Wills, so I'll use them properly...'

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Far, far away, in another corner of this sandy world, we see an emaciated, gaunt man holding a staff. The staff itself isn't made of wood or stone, but it appears to be made out of a spine, with a skull resting on top.

Right now, the arch necromancer is hiding deep in a dark cavern, and there are thousands of men and women in black tunics – all looking at him with zealous worship glowing in their Spirits.

One of the robed cultists walks up and hands the arch-necromancer a key. "Lord Bal-Shazi, this is our spatial storage key. Take this, and inside are the 1,000 sacrifices we've collected for you, lord Bal-shazar!"

Another necromancer walks up with another key and says, "Me and my Brine Clan have gotten nearly 2,000 in our latest hunt."

Lord Bal'shazi waves his hand away and says magnanimously, "It's not a competition, my children. So long as you bring tokens worthy of me, then I will bless you with my teachings. I don't care if you came from a rich or a poor background, whether you're male or female. All who contribute will be blessed!"

There is intense cheering rising from the crowd of acolytes, and everyone's hearts radiate gratitude.

Many of these clans who've come under Bal'Shazi's sway used to be peaceful clans (relatively peaceful). Why would they all come to this Black Mage and swear their loyalty to him so happily?

There's a pretty big reason why.

In this barren world, where magic is incredibly rare, mages are incredibly picky about who they choose as apprentices. Most of the time, only the fat nobility can pay them enough, while the rest of the masses can only forget about it.

For the most part, everyone grew up in cultures believing that the nobles are some kind of different, higher species that deserve to be taught magic, while everyone else can only curse the gods for making them be born into such poor families.

However, Bal'Shazi came along one day and essentially said, "Magic is the gods' gift for all living beings. Follow me, and I'll teach you, regardless of birth or wealth. In return, you must listen and serve."

Needless to say, there are plenty of people unhappy enough with their lives to slaughter millions and serve a necromancer in exchange for a chance at learning magic.

---------------------

And so, Lord Bal'shazi looks over his crowd of acolytes, and he barely represses a smile.

Why is he smiling? Believe it or not, it's not because of his sacrifices; the sacrifices are secondary.

No, he's smiling because he can FEEL his followers' devotion and worship for him. Considering what he's really after…

'Now, for the final step…,' Bal'Shazi thinks with giddy excitement.

Before the throng of cultists, the ambitious necromancer throws his hands out wide, and his magic fills the cave.

Subtly at first, then violently, an intense pressure envelops the entire cavern, and the mountain shakes. Everyone collapses on the ground with fear and awe in their eyes.

"Even the archmage Tulda couldn't do that! Is our master a god?" many in the crowd shout in dismay.

"There's something I haven't been telling you all!" he announces in a firm voice that's amplified by his magic, "You all know that Archmage Tulda is a second gate mage. These are heights most of you will never be able to reach in your lifetimes!"

Everyone nods at this. Indeed, the path of magic is long and hard. Tulda was so exceptional that everyone here looked up to her when they were children.

Bal'shazi then summons his soul gate, displaying all seven circles on it. "Behold! I'm a 7th gate mage! I've reached the zenith of magic. I've become a god!"

Of course, he actually isn't a god yet, but he needed to be acknowledged as one to make the last step...

Hearing their master's announcement, many of the cultists start frothing at the mouth and faint, while the rest of them have more normal reactions, like bowing and praising their new god.

Bal'shazi keeps his arms held out, and he silently accepts the Sylvar magic flowing into him (Sylvar, being the power of Faith).

'Their Faith in me is strong... I can feel my soul evolving… I'll be a god-king soon. A real god!'

---------------------

As suddenly as a window breaking in a silent church, there's a loud explosion setting off from Lord Bal'shazi's Soul Gate, and the 7 Circles on it rapidly enlarge. – all to reflect his growing power and his ascent to godhood.

Seeing his Soul Gate reacting this way, Lord Bal'shazi can't contain himself anymore, and he starts cackling, "Ahahaha! Yes, YES!"

The man is so emotional that he even feels a few tears running down his cheeks.

The old necromancer still remembers a scene from his childhood that sparked the fires of ambition in his soul. Long ago, back in a day when he had a commoner's name of "Shazi", he met an actual god by chance.

Upon meeting that higher being, the sense of oppression coming from the goddess was strong enough to crush his bones, and the apathy she had in her eyes when she looked at him... it was infuriating.

Shazi was the second greatest mage at the time; before his meeting with the goddess of his tribe, he was perfectly content being revered and respected by the commoners for his talent and skill…

… but after feeling a real god's strength and being held in contempt by them…

It all made a crack in his soul that bred insecurity in his psyche. Being ambitious and perhaps a little traumatized, the young, promising mage embarked on the path of the necromancer – one of the easiest paths to power.

'Now, at last, I've become a real god! Now, I don't have to fear anyone! I can stand before my goddess and crush her beneath my heel! No, I'm only a new god. I need to bide my time and build up my strength first. It's best to gather more followers and accrue more devotion in secret – all while pretending that I'm still a mere Ascendant.'

With plans forming in his head, the Arch necromancer stares maniacally up at the surface.

'Now that my secluded training is over with,' he thinks, 'I can focus on growing my divinity. I'll need to make the rest of the world worship me though...'

---------------------

While Lord Bal'Shazi is plotting centuries in advance, Haalfrin is looking up at the clear, blue sky and contemplating exactly how he's going to summon his helpers.

'Hmm... I don't want to summon all my Wills right on top of me. I'll just spread my Death Aura out as far as I can, summon them everywhere, then instruct them to search for the Necromancer Bal'shazi.'

With his plan set, Haalfrin pulls his Death Aura out of his soul and stretches it out further and further...

… He's about to be surprised at how much Death Aura he has now, but he remembers again that he's a god now. By all accounts, having near-unlimited access to Death Aura is expected for a Death god.

Probably the only difference between Haalfrin and the other Death gods is that his Yiir Name lets him bring his Death Aura with him. Thus, most Death gods can only exert their full strength in the Death Realm, while Haalfrin can venture into the Mortal Realm without being any weaker.

After he easily stretches his Death Aura out to fill the entire world, he opens the gates of his soul.... and like a breaking dam, countless souls began flooding the entire world...