Ascension (Part 2)
Behind the gods' actions, which seemed oblivious to the consequences, lay a massive impatience. The destruction foretold by the Life Goddess was drawing ever closer by the moment. To cope with that impending doom, the gods had each made different choices. Some begged for forgiveness and sacrificed themselves, others waged war against fellow gods, and some tried to flee elsewhere... but in the end, no other paths existed.
Thus, for gods living on borrowed time, there was no room to choose means or methods. Yet, with no sharp solution beyond turning Lyclean into a god, they pinned their last hopes on it, determined to make him a god by any means necessary—no matter how many sacrifices it demanded.
It was a desperate struggle to avert annihilation. And in that dire situation, their sole lifeline, Lyclean, was now trying to abandon godhood of his own accord. From the gods' perspective, it was enough to drive them mad.
"What a pity. Such a tragedy. If you, hailed as the hero of heroes, had simply accepted becoming a god, none of this would have been necessary. Remember this: it's the result of your own folly."
"Urgh...!"
Seized by the gods, Lyclean could barely twitch a finger as he glared at Zeus. Undeterred by his venomous gaze, the faith infused by the gods began forcibly reshaping his body into something not human—something incomprehensible.
At the same time, through the chains of devotion, he sensed the deaths of countless others. Futile deaths, offered up to sate the gods' desires.
This can't go on. Other lives shouldn't be sacrificed for these fools.
"Come now, hero. Become a god. Become a puppet king of the gods, sitting idly on your throne doing nothing. Thus shall the surviving gods—and we of Olympus—escape our fated end and bask in even greater glory. Our faith shall spread across all worlds."
"Urgh...!"
The faith warped Lyclean's body. Agony like muscles being flayed and bones being shaved tore through him. His bones turned to steel-like metal, his skin and flesh to marble-like stone. Each change was a blade of endless torment, ripping him apart.
But more crushing than the pain was his own powerlessness under these gods. He, once celebrated as a hero among humans, was now helplessly transformed by divine hands. And at this very moment, countless lives were being offered to remake him into a god.
This has to stop. I have to do something.
Lyclean strained with all his might to move. To resist, even a little. To defy their will. If he let this continue, so many would die. He couldn't stand by while these gods treated their faithful like livestock.
So.
"Raaargh!!"
Lyclean squeezed out every ounce of strength. Rejecting the changes that ground his bones, swapped his muscles, and flooded his veins with faith instead of blood. His body, once immobile, began to stir—ever so slightly. Like a stone statue creaking to life, like the sculpture binding him cracking and shattering.
Even as his flesh tore apart alive, he moved his arm. And that hand grasped the weapon at his waist.
Lyclean's most trusted armament. A club forged from unbreakable wood.
Seeing him grip it, the gods sneered.
"Think that puny wooden club can do anything?"
One of the gods holding him spoke. Poseidon, one of Olympus's deities.
Ignoring the mockery, Lyclean swung the club.
Whoosh!
The swing held enough force to pulverize any living creature in one blow, yet the gods watched his feeble rebellion as if it wasn't worth dodging.
"As if that twig could harm a god's—"
Crack!
But Poseidon's words cut off. Lyclean's wooden club had smashed his head.
The gods froze at the impossible sight, as if witnessing the forbidden.
"Po... Poseidon...?"
Zeus stared at his brother god collapsing, head utterly crushed, faith spewing from the wreckage. It was a horrific scene, unrecognizable as the Poseidon who had shone in wars among gods.
"How... no, impossible...?"
Before Zeus could finish, Lyclean swung again.
"Gah!"
The god gripping him hastily released him and dodged the club, tumbling across the ground. The same god who had been so smug moments ago—Dionysus—now fled in terror at Poseidon's fate.
At the same instant, the other gods holding Lyclean scattered, judging that the club which crushed Poseidon—Zeus's famed brother and god of the sea—could fell them too.
Lyclean had shaken them off, but the situation remained dire. The influx of faith had halted with their retreat—a small mercy—but enough had already seeped in to fuel the transformation. His body kept changing.
At this rate, he'd become exactly what they wanted.
"Nngh...!"
Lyclean shook his head. No. It can't end like this. Not their way. As long as gods like these existed, the problem wouldn't vanish. Gods who saw believers as cattle, as resources—they couldn't be allowed.
So.
Lyclean resolved himself.
"A wooden club that wounds gods... Don't tell me... It's made from the World Tree's branch?!"
Zeus's shout rippled murmurs through the encircling gods.
World Tree. Yggdrasil. One of the seven ancient gods predating the Pantheon, the elves' tribal deity and god of forests and trees.
A club from that god's branch...
Shock mingled with greed among the gods. A weapon wielded by a mere hero—still human, mid-transformation—that could gravely injure a god. Its value was incalculable.
"How could a mere human possess such a...?"
"Urgh... I don't know! My master gave it to me!"
"Master...?"
Zeus tilted his head at Lyclean's words. Who could that be? Lyclean had countless mentors; it was hard to pinpoint.
Then.
"No way..."
Something flashed in Zeus's mind. Who else could provide a World Tree branch?
Only one god.
"The Life Goddess...?"
Why would the Life Goddess give Lyclean a weapon? For what purpose? After prophesying his ascension as king of the gods?
Chaos tangled and unraveled in Zeus's head.
What if... just what if. It was all a trap?
What if she planned to destroy the gods regardless of any "king"? Stirring discord, pitting them against each other, culling their numbers?
What if everything was in the Life Goddess's palm?
Then...
"Nngh!"
Zeus's thoughts scattered at Lyclean's grunt. Forcing his unresponsive body, Lyclean drew a small dagger from his waist.
A keen dagger, perfect for slicing meat—but trivial compared to the World Tree club. Barely a threat.
He bit the dagger's hilt and pulled a small pouch from his bosom. It jingled faintly.
A pouch of snake venom. Venom that tormented even gods.
"Hah!"
Dagger in mouth, club in one hand, pouch in the other, Lyclean hurled the club at Zeus. All eyes followed it.
Seizing the opening, he gripped the dagger and slathered it thick with venom from the pouch.
"What...?"
Zeus snatched the flying club and looked at Lyclean—dagger to his own throat, dripping with viscous poison. The very venom gods feared, capable of slaying them, now pressed against his flesh by his own hand.
"You...!"
"If I die, your plans crumble...!"
Lyclean smiled. Death held no terror. He'd already visited the underworld once. Fear stemmed from ignorance, and he knew what awaited.
If his death could shatter these foolish gods' schemes...
He'd go gladly.
So.
"The Life Goddess will judge you in my stead."
Lyclean plunged the venom-coated dagger into his throat.
