Chapter 5

Ji-Ho awoke from his eternal slumber.

His eyes opened slowly, and all he saw was a vast pink sky reflecting on the still waters around him. He was floating, his body light as if it no longer belonged to this world.

Suddenly, sharp flashes tore through his mind like blades. Distorted scenes from a recent past invaded his consciousness—the brutal attack, the unbearable pain, the murderous gleam in Daiki's eyes as the blade pierced his chest. Ji-Ho gasped, his heart racing from the shock.

In a frantic motion, he sat up, panting. He looked down at his arms.

Nothing. No wounds. No scars.

Trembling, he raised his fingers to his face, sliding them over his flawless skin. Then, hastily, he lifted his shirt, expecting to see the gaping, bloody wound Daiki's dagger should have left. But there was nothing. Not a single mark.

His body was… intact?

Panic began to swell inside him, his brain working frantically to make sense of it.

"I was attacked… I felt the pain… I saw the blade go through me… I died!"

His eyes darted to the reflection in the water. Was that really his face? He swallowed hard and, in a swift motion, stood up.

— "Alright… Alright… This has to be a dream… A nightmare! I'll wake up in 3… 2… 1…" — He squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his fists.

Nothing.

When he opened them again, he was still there, in that surreal landscape. A chill ran down his spine.

"So… this is real? I actually died? Is this place… heaven?"

Looking around, he saw nothing but a small island ahead. It stretched towards a hill, where a cliff jutted out like a scar on the land. And at the top of the hill, a majestic structure towered.

Massive, pristine white columns held up a triangular roof, intricately carved with details that seemed to tell stories long forgotten by time. No cracks, no erosion. It was as if the entire structure had been sculpted from a single, unbroken slab of stone.

Ji-Ho had no choice. If he wanted answers, he had to enter that building.

With cautious steps, he began climbing the hill. The path was overgrown with wild plants, as if no one had walked it for centuries. When he finally reached the temple's entrance, he found himself before an immense, slightly ajar marble door. Engravings covered its surface, emanating an eerie aura. Just looking at them sent shivers down his spine.

Taking a deep breath, he stepped through the narrow opening.

The moment he set foot inside, an overwhelming emptiness swallowed him. The air was cold, his breath forming small white clouds. The vast hall was lined with colossal statues. Some bore human features, while others were monstrous, evoking nightmares of ancient deities.

The place bore the marks of time. Cracks in the floor, vegetation creeping through the gaps, moss climbing the walls and columns. The ceiling, riddled with holes, allowed pale beams of light to filter through, illuminating the suspended dust. Green flames flickered in torches along the columns, casting an eerie glow.

Ji-Ho could smell the dampness, hear the distant dripping of water. Birds flitted through the hall, their cries echoing in the lonely vastness.

Then, the silence broke.

A voice—female, serene yet melancholic—resonated through the temple. A song.

The melody was both haunting and beautiful. A voice that seemed to belong to an ancient spirit, trapped in this place for countless ages.

Ji-Ho tensed, his senses sharpening. Instinctively, he moved through the shadows of the statues, drawing closer to the source of the song. His heart pounded.

And then, he saw her.

A woman, dressed like a peasant, singing as she cleaned the feet of the grandest statue in the hall. Her voice flowed smoothly, as if she were lost in her own world.

"I shaped the sky, I forged the sea,

Molded souls in the breath of the breeze.

I raised the stars, I gave light to the day,

Yet I was betrayed by cold ambition's sway.

The hands that gave life to the land,

Now bound in chains, forever damned.

Once I was infinite, now I am none,

A fallen goddess, a shadow undone.

If my name is ever spoken anew,

It will be whispered in the wind's sorrowful tune.

For the one who makes the cosmos shine,

May one day, too, decline."

The sorrow woven into the song gripped Ji-Ho's chest. That voice carried centuries of grief and loss.

He hesitated, then, summoning his courage, took a step forward.

— "Excuse me…" — His voice was soft, uncertain. He scratched the back of his head, trying to appear less intrusive. — "My name is Ji-Ho. I'm… a bit lost. Could you help me?"

The woman kept singing, as if she hadn't heard him. Ji-Ho frowned and stepped closer. Gently, he touched her shoulder.

The reaction was immediate.

She choked on her own song, eyes widening in shock. Her body stiffened as if she had just seen a ghost.

— "Sorry to bother you…" — Ji-Ho tried again, glancing around. — "I'm lost…"

She said nothing. Just stared at him, her eyes swimming with emotions—shock, relief… despair.

— "Who… Who are you?" — Her voice trembled as she pointed at him.

— "Lee Ji-Ho." — He extended his hand, hoping to ease the tension.

The woman hesitated but accepted the handshake. Her touch was cold and fragile.

Ji-Ho studied her more closely. Her eyes were large, a deep ocean blue. Her blonde hair was tied back with a worn, dirty cloth. Her frame was slender, almost sculpted, more perfect than the statues surrounding them. She wore a simple peasant's dress, frayed by time. Beside her, a wooden bucket and a moss-covered brush.

But what truly caught Ji-Ho's attention were the marks.

Faded bruises on her face. Deep scars on her wrists, as if she had been shackled for a long time.

— "What is this place?" — He finally asked.

— "The last temple of the gods…" — The woman answered, casting a glance at the statues. — "No one has set foot here for centuries."

Ji-Ho's heart pounded. The thought of being dead and crossing into the afterlife crept back into his mind.

— Are we… far from Japan?

The woman's eyes widened even more.

— The nearest nation is a month's journey away… But there are no boats or planes that can reach this place. — She locked eyes with him. — Ji-Ho… How did you end up here?

He told her everything.

The moment he mentioned the dagger and the golden tree, the woman shuddered.

Then, to his shock, she knelt before him and kissed his hand.

Ji-Ho barely had time to react.

— I've been waiting for you for so long.

Her voice echoed through the abandoned temple, heavy with a strange melancholy.

Ji-Ho didn't understand. He grabbed her arm, demanding answers.

— What's going on? Who are you?

Before he could say anything else, the woman covered his mouth with her cold, trembling hand.

— Shhh… Not here. They're watching us. Soon, they'll know you're here. — Her eyes gleamed in the dim light. — Come with me.

She pulled him by the arm, leading him into the shadows of the temple.

A shiver ran down Ji-Ho's spine. Something felt… off.

Every step echoed through the empty hall.

And he could swear… the massive statue at the temple's center was watching them.

— We don't have much time… — the woman panted, gripping Ji-Ho's arm with urgency.

— In the beginning, I created the heavens and everything beneath them. I created humans, animals, flowers…

A deep rumble shook the temple, cutting her off.

Dust rained from the ceiling.

A warning. Something worse was coming.

— Because I gave humans the only weapon capable of defying the gods… I was banished.

Her voice hardened.

— Tortured by my own children. Violated by those who once worshiped me.

A bitter laugh.

— And then… all I had left was to wait. Wait for Tesseron's prophecy.

Ji-Ho felt a sinking weight in his gut.

A god.

He was standing before a god.

Shouldn't he be afraid? Shouldn't he fight back?

But… she was nothing like the gods in the stories.

She wasn't some distant, merciless ruler.

She carried pain.

Suffering.

A suffering that felt… human.

— What prophecy? — His voice barely rose to a whisper.

The woman closed her eyes, as if reciting something carved into her very soul.

"When the silver moon turns to blood,

And the wind chimes sing no more,

From the shadows shall come the one with no gift,

Whose name the gods whisper in dread.

No mark, no sign,

Only the echo of a fateful design.

For he who was never meant to be,

Shall make the divine empire tremble.

The throne of the heavens, once immortal,

Shall crumble at the touch of the mortal son.

And those who built chains and pain,

Shall drink from the chalice of their own fear."

Another tremor.

Stronger this time.

Ji-Ho swallowed hard.

— Ji-Ho, you were chosen long before the cosmos took form. Humanity depends on you.

The woman gently ran her fingers through his hair.

Ji-Ho jerked back, knocking her hands away.

— Me? Chosen? — His voice cracked. — I'm weak. I couldn't protect my family. My friends. I couldn't even protect myself…

A bitter laugh escaped his lips.

— How could I be part of a prophecy that defies the gods?

He shook his head.

— You're mistaken, lady. I'm not that guy.

The woman smiled.

A sad smile.

— The Tree that bound you… never makes mistakes.

A chill ran through Ji-Ho's veins.

— Didn't you hear it?

Her voice dropped to a whisper.

— The sound of its heart… connecting to yours?

Ji-Ho's breath hitched.

— That Tree was born upon the corpse of a Titan.

Her gaze bore into his.

— And now… the Titan's soul lives inside you.

Too much.

Too fast.

— My name is Freya. — Her voice softened. — Goddess of Creation.

She took a step forward.

— And I choose you… as my champion.

Then—

The ground roared.

Ji-Ho's entire body tensed.

Freya turned to the statue at the temple's center.

The once-lifeless eyes…

Glowed.

A sinister fire flickered in the darkness.

Stone groaned as the massive figure moved.

It rose from its colossal throne, its limbs grinding with ancient power.

— They've found us.

Freya's voice was sharp.

She sprinted to a wooden bucket filled with water.

Ji-Ho watched as she wet her finger with saliva—

— and dipped it into the liquid.

The water bubbled, turning a deep golden hue.

Freya grabbed the bucket and shoved it toward Ji-Ho.

— Drink. Every last drop.

— What?!

Ji-Ho froze.

He hesitated.

The ground trembled again.

The statue turned its head toward them.

Heavy footsteps echoed through the temple.

No time for doubts.

Ji-Ho grabbed the bucket—

And drank.

The liquid burned down his throat.

His heart exploded in pain.

A sharp, blinding agony shot through his chest.

He collapsed to his knees, clutching at his body.

Each heartbeat felt like it was detonating inside him.

Freya held his arms.

— Run! Go back to the sea where you came from!

With her thumb, she marked Ji-Ho's forehead with a glowing symbol.

— I'll hold him off. Go!

She shoved him forward.

Ji-Ho stumbled—

But forced himself to run.

Behind him—

The statue's mouth opened.

A guttural roar in an ancient tongue shook the air.

— Zûrn kael, morr ûn dar Freya? (Where is the human, Freya?)

Freya's voice turned cold.

She responded in the same dark tone.

— Thûrn ael'va, tarra în suul. Fhatos. (There is no one here, Fhatos.)

Ji-Ho reached the door.

Just a few more steps—

But the statue's head snapped in his direction.

Glowing red eyes locked onto him.

— Freya veth'aa ilin mor'kaan… (Freya, you will pay dearly for this.)

The Titan moved.

Each step was a quake.

The temple collapsed around them.

Ji-Ho ran with everything he had.

— Why am I always running for my life?! — he shouted, frustration mixing with terror.

The door!

So close!

A colossal hand reached for him—

The colossal hand of the statue reached out to grab him… but before it could, something grasped the statue's foot.

Freya.

With the last of her power, Freya cast a spell that pushed Ji-Ho beyond the exit.Ji-Ho crashed onto the sand.

He turned just in time to see Freya looking at him—

One last time.

A gentle smile on her lips.

Then—

The temple doors slammed shut.

A furious roar erupted from within.

The clouds turned into a sky of blood.

Thunder tore through the heavens.

A divine bolt of lightning struck down—

And the temple was reduced to ruins.

From the wreckage…

The statue rose.

Searching for him.

Ji-Ho's heart pounded.

No hesitation.

He dived into the sea.

The saltwater burned against his skin.

The mark on his forehead glowed like a pale beacon.

And then—

Everything went black.