chap2,The Weight of a God

Chapter 2: The Weight of a God

The knight's breath came in ragged gasps. His trembling hands clenched the dirt beneath him as he struggled to process what had just happened. One moment, he was leading his men to secure the ruins. The next, he was kneeling before a man whose power defied all logic.

"I—I'll tell you everything!" The knight barely hesitated. Pride meant nothing when faced with something beyond comprehension.

He smirked, leaning back against a broken pillar. "Good choice. Start with the basics. Where am I?"

The knight swallowed hard. "These are the Ruins of Altherion, once the seat of an ancient mage-king. You stand within the borders of the Holy Empire of Velkaris."

Holy Empire. Sounded important. "And the year?"

"The 1346th year of the Celestial Era."

That meant nothing to him, but he nodded like it did. "Alright. Who's in charge around here?"

"Emperor Darius III rules Velkaris, but the continent is divided among many great powers—the Arcadian Federation to the west, the Norrvian Dominion in the north, and the Evernight Abyss in the east, ruled by…" He hesitated.

"By?"

The knight's face darkened. "By the Immortal Witch-Queen, Seraphis."

A powerful ruler with an ominous title? He made a mental note of that. "Got it. So, tell me—why were you so desperate to claim these ruins?"

The knight hesitated again. Clearly, he wasn't supposed to reveal this information.

With a lazy wave of his hand, he exerted his will. The knight felt an unbearable weight pressing down on him, as if the very air around him had become lead. His bones creaked under the invisible force.

"Guh—!" The knight gasped, sweat pouring down his face. "A hidden relic! The Empire believed a lost artifact of Altherion lay buried here—one that could grant immense power!"

Now that was interesting. He eased the pressure, allowing the knight to breathe. "And? Did you find it?"

The knight shook his head furiously. "No! We arrived only minutes before you did! We hadn't begun searching!"

So, an ancient relic, untouched for centuries. His grin widened.

"Well then," he said, stretching. "Looks like I just got my first treasure hunt."

The Power to Shape the World

The knight was dismissed with a wave of his hand. The man scurried away, still too afraid to even think of retaliation.

He turned toward the heart of the ruins. Towering stone spires jutted out from the earth like the ribs of a long-dead god. Faint magical energy lingered in the air, pulsing in a rhythm too ancient to decipher.

With a single step, he crossed the distance, moving faster than any mortal eye could follow.

At the center of the ruins stood a grand archway, its surface etched with glowing golden runes. The language was foreign, yet as he gazed upon it, the meaning flowed into his mind as if the world itself whispered to him.

"Beyond this gate lies the legacy of Altherion. Only the worthy may claim his power."

"Worthy?" He scoffed. "Buddy, I define worthy."

He reached out and placed a single finger on the archway.

Power exploded outward.

The sky darkened as ancient magic stirred, reacting to his presence. The ruins trembled, loose stones lifting into the air as if gravity itself had begun to unravel.

Then, the gate opened.

Legacy of the Mage-King

The blinding light faded, revealing a vast chamber beneath the ruins—an underground sanctum untouched by time.

He descended the steps with a confident stride. The chamber's walls shimmered with arcane sigils, their magic still active despite the centuries. In the center of the chamber rested a pedestal, atop which lay a single object.

A sword.

It was unlike any he had ever seen—sleek, pitch-black, pulsing with a deep, crimson glow. The air around it hummed with energy. This was no ordinary relic. It was alive, waiting, hungering.

He approached, extending a hand.

The moment his fingers brushed the hilt, the world shifted.

Visions flooded his mind—battles that shook continents, a kingdom reduced to ashes by a lone figure wielding this very blade. Altherion, the Mage-King, had not died. His will had been sealed within the sword, waiting for someone strong enough to claim it.

Power surged into him, a tide of raw energy that dwarfed everything he had felt before. He clenched his fist, feeling reality itself tremble in response.

When the visions faded, he was still standing. But something was different.

The ruins had changed. What was once broken and lifeless now pulsed with energy, as if time had reversed itself. The shattered pillars were whole again, the air thick with power.

He lifted the sword. Its crimson glow intensified, as if recognizing its new master.

He grinned. "Well then… I guess that makes me the new Mage-King."

A New Ruler Rises

Far beyond the ruins, in the grand halls of Velkaris' Imperial Palace, a seer gasped, clutching her chest.

The Emperor turned to her, frowning. "What is it?"

Her eyes, now glowing with arcane sight, widened in terror. "A new power has awakened… one that surpasses even the gods."

And so, the world trembled, for an invincible force had risen. And he was just getting started.