Chapter 100: Banished!

The Trickster God turned his head slowly, silver eyes gleaming as they locked onto Lola. His bemused smile twisted wider, fangs glinting under the pale shimmer of his translucent skin.

"You must be the lover..." he said, his voice curling around the edges of the room like smoke.

"Ahahahah... or is it unrequited love?" he added, tilting his head, watching her reaction as if it were the highlight of his arrival.

His words sliced sharper than a dagger. Lola's face twitched—just for a second. That flicker of confusion. A glint of doubt. It wasn't much, but it was all the Trickster God needed to begin his insidious work. He didn't need to fight with fists or fire. He only needed words.

Words that bled into the soul.

Lola clenched her fists. Her breath caught in her throat. She knew what he was doing. She'd read tales—heard whispers of the Trickster God's ability to twist lies into truths, to plant doubt so deeply that even the strongest minds fractured under the weight.

And still... his laughter made her chest tighten.

Until—

Josh's voice ripped through the air.

> "I AM KING—!"

The room shook.

The walls trembled.

A burst of radiant energy exploded from the portal where Josh stood, still suspended inside the writhing circle of symbols drawn by the Golden Toad.

The "I Am King" Protocol had been activated.

A divine authority pulsed from Josh's being, slamming into everyone present like a tidal wave. Even the Trickster God recoiled—a shadow of real fear crossing his face. His silver gaze sharpened, calculating.

> A Level Two King Protocol? From a mortal? That should not be possible…

He flexed his fingers. Reality itself had quivered.

If it had been a Level Three, the Trickster God might have been forcefully dragged back into the 5th dimension. If it had been Level Four… he might have been erased entirely.

But Josh didn't know that.

"Lucky for me," the Trickster God mused, "he's still young… still clueless about the true power he holds."

His smile returned. Wider. More sinister.

"Hey big boy," he cooed mockingly, stepping back from the circle,

"say hi to my other friends in the 5th dimension..."

And just like that—

The circle flashed.

Josh Aratat was gone.

Sucked into the swirling maw of impossible space, the portal sealing behind him with a soft chime—like the closing of a coffin lid.

---

For one awful second, the room went still.

No wind.

No sound.

Only the heartbeat of despair pounding in every chest.

Then the screams came.

Ralia dropped to her knees, sadness seeped into her like water leaking into a room from a leaking container.

Conrad punched the ground, blood running down his knuckles.

Lola stood frozen, her entire body shaking—not from fear, but from sheer fury.

They could still feel him.

The death-level loyalty bond wasn't severed—Josh was alive—but far beyond reach, thrown into a realm few ever returned from.

---

And to bring him back?

They would need to master a summoning spell so powerful, it had nearly drained the entire magical reserve of the Golden Toad. A spell born from ancient, forbidden texts long sealed away.

Worse still...

They would need to find a worthy replacement soul. A willing sacrifice to take Josh's place in the twisted balance between worlds—or trick the Trickster God into returning voluntarily, an irony no one dared speak aloud.

A near-impossible task.

But for Lola… for all of them… giving up was never on the table.

Because Josh Aratat may have been gone—

But he wasn't lost.

Not yet.

The Trickster God's silver eyes gleamed as the last flicker of Josh Aratat vanished into the rift, swallowed by the shifting veil of the 5th Dimension.

Then, with an elegant, fluid motion, he began to transform.

The monstrous visage melted away like wax beneath a black sun. The clawed limbs, the translucent skin, the obsidian bones—they all reshaped, contorted, and smoothed into something... deceptively human.

Before them now stood a man of arresting beauty. Tall, lean, with the posture of royalty and the grin of a demon. He wore a tailored cloak with expensive fabrics so pristine, the lapels seemed cut from shadow. Hair as dark as midnight flowed down to his shoulders, glistening like it had been freshly conditioned in the finest shampoo of gods. A silk pocket square the colour of dried blood peeked from his coat.

He adjusted his cuffs.

Smirked.

The clothing style definitely didn't match that of the present era, making everyone who gazed upon the cloth to be inquisitive.

He then looked upon the shocked generals with eyes like polished glass, reflective and soulless.

"Well…" he said, voice now smoother than sin, rich with mockery, "I must admit… I didn't expect him to fall for it that fast. But oh, what fun!"

He spun on a heel with the grace of a man who had danced at the end of both worlds.

"I'll be seeing you lot soon," he added, flashing teeth too white to be natural. "For now, do mull over the loss of your leader... I have an empire to topple."

Then, that grin grew wider—inhumanly so.

> "Heheheheh… HAAHAHAHAHAHAH—!"

His maniacal laughter exploded through the broken chamber like a thousand mocking crows taking flight. It echoed in the bones of every soul present, soaked into the cracked stones, into the very soil beneath their feet.

And just like that—he vanished.

No portal. No flash.

One blink, and he was gone.

---

Lola's rage ignited.

"No!" she screamed, already surging forward, her whip crackling with lightning—ready to chase him into any realm, to tear the heavens apart if it meant bringing Josh back.

But before she could take a single step—

Conrad Stan was there.

He grabbed her arms, holding her firmly but gently. The pain in his eyes mirrored her own.

> "Don't," he whispered, his voice raw with grief. "We are no match for him. Not now. Only the master could've stopped him… and he's gone."

His words struck harder than any blow.

The others stood still. Some looked away. Others clenched fists, eyes wet with fury.

Even Ralia Amia, silent and cold as ever, couldn't stop her orb of memories from flickering dimly, as though mourning their king in its own way.

> "Our only hope…" Conrad continued, voice trembling, "…is that the master finds his way back."

The silence that followed was unbearable.

A gaping emptiness.

As if the very air refused to breathe without him.

Lola slowly fell to her knees, the surge of her power now crashing like a wave that had lost its moon. Her shoulders trembled—not from weakness, but from a storm of fury she could no longer release.

And above it all, the faint echoes of the Trickster God's laughter still haunted the scorched walls.