Inside the Holy Palace, One floor beneath the celebration
“What the hell took you so long?! The celebration has already begun!”
“I-I’m s-sorry. It was really heavy so it t-took longer than e-expected.”
“Huh? I did not hear a word of what you said. Honestly, I don’t even care. Just hand me the damn heart already. The longer you make me wait the angrier I’ll be.”
“R-Right away.”
The frail boy slowly handed over a clear glass container to his brother. Fearing what would happen if he so much as twitched his finger, he made sure to be as carful as possible.
Deiphobus laughed franticly as he glared at the object inside of that container.
It was a display of life. An oval shaped drum, spewing pools of liquid with each beat.
“Excellent!” he yelled out. “I’ve dreamed about this day since I was a little boy. But now it is no longer a dream. Soon I will have attained the power of an Olympian! And receive my own Infinite.”
“I-I’m h-happy for you brother.”
“Shut your mouth, worm. I’m shocked you still have the gall to show your face in this Palace. You are the third oldest of the Trojan Prince’s yet I -the fourth oldest- was chosen to become an Olympian before you. Do you feel no shame?”
“W-Well. N-No. You were always better than me, brother. I-It’s only right.”
“’It’s only right’ he says…” The boy gazed down at his frail brother with eyes of detest. And while dramatically turning to head to the celebration he finished:
“At least you know your place… People like you were born to worship the very ground I walk on.”
As he walked away from his pathetic excuse of a brother, one thought faded into his mind:
(Hector. Paris. With this, I will finally catch up to you two.)
***
Within this sacred palace, there was a room located on the highest floor. A room decorated with bright lights and beautiful treasures. As well as a few fine trinkets here and there to further elevate it's feeling of superiority.
Rulers from every nation of Kukizer sat comfortably as they ate food even distinguished noble men would drool over. Laughing, as they guzzled down the finest alcohol in the lands.
To their right, eye candy in the form of beautiful dancing maidens.
To their left, cloaked magicians, prepped to be summoned at any moment’s notice.
And to their front, a device that rested on expensive cloth just on top of 7 small steps.
A tool that has kept the Troy family in power for the last four decades. As well as the only reason they can stand equally with the mighty nations of Tang, Bushin and Camelot.
Starting off the toast was a rather chubby man that reeked of greed and gluttony:
“We gather today, to celebrate Prince Deiphobus becoming an Olympian! To Prince Deiphobus and the prosperity of Kukizer!”
“To Prince Deiphobus!” The others cheered as they raised their goblets.
With that, the party had begun.
Whether it was the alcohol talking or a classic political strategy, the chubby man proposed to the king:
“Say Priam. My daughter here just turned fifteen years old. I brought her here, so you could see her beauty yourself. Surely, she would make a fine gift for today’s star.”
The equally chubby King stroked his long white beard as he laughed:
“*Hohoho. Well. She does look quite appetizing…”
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
His ravenous eyes danced around the girl’s innocent body. He noticed the way she kept her hand in between her small chest, as well as the way she embarrassingly tried to dodge eye contact.
“…Maybe I should take her for myself.” he grinned.
“That would be fine too.”
The two burst into an almost maniacal laughter. If man is truly as evil as the are made out to be, then I guess the only way to describe these two, is human.
Their maniacal laughter was soon interrupted by one of the stationed mages, whispering something into the King’s ear.
“Polyxena has been killed you say…? But she did deliver the AntiGod as planned, right…? Then that’s all that matters.”
“Is something the matter, Priam?” a ruler to his left questioned.
“Oooh nothing important.”
*Creak!
“!”
The sound of the entrance opening caught everyone’s attention.
“Ahh. If it isn’t the star himself. Glad you could make it-!”
“Star, huh? I think I like the ring of that.”
“…”
For some odd reason, the rulers trembled at the sight of him. Some looked as if they wanted to say something, but the words just couldn’t squeeze out. They others looked as if they’d pass out from the sight alone.
“Hmm? Why is everyone so quiet?”
Just then the young prince felt a hot gust of wind strangle his neck.
Ironically, it sent a cold shiver down his spine.
The boy gulped down as he prepared himself to slowly turn his head. When he did, the vomit of Satan stared straight into his soul.
Without realizing, he dropped the glass container, destroying the heart inside.
(What the hell is that…) he thought.
A shame really. That was a question he’d never get an answer to.
“GET BACK, PRINCE DEIPHOBUS!!!” The mages yelled as they fired a rainbow of bright lights.
There was no time to wait for him to run, so they simply trusted he was smart enough to do so.
*PSEWWW!! *PSEWWW!! *PSEWWW!!
When the dust cleared, a frightening silence took over the room.
The image of him riddled with large holes burned into their retinas.
Unknown to them, the prince did try to run. But as he did, his neck was suddenly clenched, and his body was used to shield the incoming attacks.
Actually “shield” isn’t quite right. Every single attack not only pierced through the prince, but also the monster behind him.
He just didn’t care.
With a single glance to the left, the mages hurled from the fright alone. Some soiled their cloaks. Some even decided best to take their own life.
With a second glance to the right, the trembling, young women all passed out.
Tossing the useless shield of a prince, he marched onward to the Ruler seated at the very center of the room.
Getting there, he squatted down to meet his gaze and slowly, he asked:
“Where is God?”
Before, anyone who heard him ask that question, remained quiet in hopes of survival. They simply couldn’t understand the words that left his lips.
But not this time.
King Priam understood his words. He was the only one in this room that could.
“Y-You. S-Speak the language of the gods.”
The creature skinned his teeth and answered:
“But of course I do. I am a God.”
The frightened King shakingly pointed towards the golden Trumpet.
“I see... Yes… I do sense his power oozing from that device. Good work, human.”
As he walked over to the trumpet, he mumbled:
“Yes… I can feel it! This. Is God.”
He reached him hand out to grab it, getting ever so close with each passing moment. But right before he could so much as poke it, something stopped his hand from getting any closer.
A woman’s hand.
She couldn’t get a solid grip with how much larger his forearm was, but she didn’t need one. Even with just this, he couldn’t budge his arm a single inch.
He turned his head to face the woman in question.
She was rather tall. A little over 190 cm give or take.
A long, white coat hung down from her shoulders and she wore clothes that left her toned chocolate-skinned gut on full display. Like the strange creature, she too had the hair of the gods. Except she kept hers in a large afro. Large enough to cover her eyes.
Grabbing the cigar from her plump lips she said:
“I think it’d be a better idea if I blew it…What do you say…? Gilgamesh.”
“Gilgamesh… That name sounds familiar. Is that my name?”
“Oh my. Lost your memories have you. You must’ve combined with a rather weak-willed human… You always did have a soft spot for weaklings. Always coddling Enkidu.”
“Let go of me.”
“Step away from the trumpet and I will.”
Realizing her grip was too fierce he chose to exert the full extent of his power.
“LET GO OF ME!!”
A powerful wave of despair filled the room, causing everyone in it who was still alive and conscious to lose their minds. Their eyes crossed in opposite directions, and they’d gone so mad that they laughed themselves to near death.
All but one.
She crushed his arm to the point that it could fit inside her closed palm.
“Step away from the trumpet.”
The power pouring out of her completely overpowered his, to the point of submission.
That display hammered in a forgotten memory.
He severed his crushed arm and crept back as a way of saying “Understood.”
“Good boy… Now as for this…”
*BLOW!!!