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Chapter 26

Chapter 26

***The Crystal City***

***Ascathon***

Studio 7, the place where everything began is properly attended today. All of the odd two dozen gods of the world's pantheon are present and paying full attention to Tjenemit who is residing on the central stage like a lecturer. While trying to be unassuming, I search the ranks of our little pantheon carefully in an attempt to judge the mood.

Most of us are watching the proceedings with bored expressions, but some can't hide their hostility. A few years of semi-slavery can do that to even the most docile of gods. Among those with power, even the timid ones are used to doing what they want.

Tjenemit pays those obvious discontents no attention, assured in the knowledge that any hostile action from their side wouldn't end well for them.

“My friends!” He claps his hands together, making sure that he has everyone's attention. “I welcome you to the first proper project review. It has been a few years and I must say that I am pleased. We didn't achieve all of our milestones, but we did achieve most of them. First of all, I want to honour Zenial, our beloved goddess of the moon, and Laurin, god of harmony and love. Both of them managed to fulfil their assigned duty of identifying potential ascendants to godhood and reported them as it is proper.”

He waves his hands, obviously urging us to congratulate the pair. Then he claps for applause.

The reaction is subdued and it takes a while for the rest of the room to reluctantly join in with the clapping. In order to not be the one who stands out, I also decide to clap a few times, just to go with the flow. The two people in question look embarrassed. Zenial is playing with her hair and focusing on the far wall, while Laurin's smile is obviously faked. The god of harmony and love nods embarrassedly to those who pay him their respect, his long, brown hair falling into his face.

I am quite sure that everyone in this room is aware that snitching on those two immortals did them no favour. It's quite likely that more of us found people with potential, but decided to keep their mouths shut instead of blurting out the identities of identified immortals.

Just like I did with Willow and Karin.

Tjenemit launches into a lengthy explanation of how the two deities in question managed to identify their immortals. Which I have to admit is quite the feat without soul magic. Zenial and Laurin had to rely on their wits, identifying the other party's nature by relying on their knowledge and by judging the behaviour of the people in question.

Most immortals tend to get pretty good at hiding their true nature, thanks to an endless line of reincarnations.

After getting locked up in a nuthouse for the first time, even the most stupid of us get the lesson. A life of being fastened to a bed and kept under with sedatives tends to be worth remembering. Not that this ever happened to me, I certainly don't speak from experience, but anyone would become careful about being too lenient with giving away sensitive information without having the power to protect oneself. There are always those who wish to acquire what's yours if you can't show them that such a thing comes with a hefty price.

I assume that this phase of an immortal's existence separates the smart ones from the idiots. Those who learn to keep their mouths shut are also those who tend to have long lifespans, eventually achieving their immortality and godhood.

Tjenemit clears his throat and the room falls silent again. “As for the rest of you, I am sure that you will manage to do your part in time. After all, even with the world enchantment guiding you towards possible candidates, it's not like immortals or mortals who have the potential grow on trees. Though the world is located on a nexus point, we are searching for maybe one or two people among a whole world's population, each century! That's how rare such people are.”

He crosses his arms regally behind his back. “To be honest with you, I didn't expect this program to yield such fantastic results. I assumed that it would have to run for a millennium at the very least in order to show mentionable results.”

That causes some murmurs and stirring among the listeners. Some of those who looked displeased before seem now outright hostile. Apparently, they are slowly realizing that this assignment won't end any time soon. In fact, it is likely Tjenemit will have us remain in our current functions for as long as this project keeps running. At worst, we might remain bound to playing gods for the mortals for as long as we exist, with the death of our current consciousness being the only way to escape this situation.

Such a thing isn't unheard of. It wouldn't be the first time for a bored god to choose the obliteration of his consciousness and all memories. Some end up preferring this solution to eternal existence. They return as mortals to the great cycle of life and death, eventually climbing back to godhood.

“The project didn't run perfectly, I admit that. We had a few severe issues in the first weeks, and are still experiencing problems with adapting the world enchantment, but we are getting there.” He laughs. “It's not like we don't have all the time in the world, right? If anything, then it's time which we don't lack.”

No shit. From my point of view, it seems like Tjenemit is rushing this project. There are so many bugs in the World Enchantment that I doubt that it was ever tested before the Council unleashed it on us. I think nobody will forget what's hatefully called the '24/7-Incident' among the pantheon. Being teleported from one worshipper to the other without breaks isn't a small programming error. Such things only happen when the people in charge don't even take the time to check their numbers.

I return my attention to Tjenemit, realizing that he continued to speak while I was lamenting my fate.

“...which brings us to the last point on today's list.” Tjenemit makes eye-contact with me and I straighten my back, surprised by the sudden change of topic; which apparently concerns me.

What did I do?

“I've heard that there are two large factions forming on the world. One so-called Alliance of Light and an Empire of Chaos?” The Council member enquires.

I shrug, feeling compelled to answer. “You know how these mortals are. They always find an excuse to form political and moral ideologies which they can use to draw lines in the sand. Then, they use those to justify warring against each other. It's always the same spiel. There is absolutely no reason to be surprised by it.”

“I heard that you are among those who actively support this development?” Tjenemit continues in a questioning tone.

I wave my hand dismissively and lean back in my seat in an attempt to seem calm and collected. “I am certainly not supporting my believers. These things would happen with or without my influence. I admit that I am shaping their view of me, and the development of their political structures. But my influence only goes as far as to not allow random cultists or religious leaders to shape the sheep's thoughts to further their own power and financial gain.

“If I have to play this role, then I don't want to be seen as some monster or demon lord, but as a being that can be benign to those who are deserving. Do you know how depressing it is to be summoned into a sacrificial chamber each and every day?”

Someone snorts to my left, drawing Tjenemit's attention.

“Not supporting them my ass! You even brought in a bunch of succubi for help!” Myrm complains loud and clearly. It's the petulant cry of a child who was outmanoeuvred, but it's not my fault that he failed to secure all the assistance he could get.

The Council member looks at me. “You brought in a bunch of demi-gods for assistance? I didn't know that you have such connections.”

Neither did I until I remembered that particular life and checked in on Ashley, finding her still remembering me against all the odds.

“It's hard to shape an entire nation's religious belief!” I defend myself. “Is it my fault for having connections and employees? I assure you that they are just weak beings from the infernal planes. Nothing a god would have to worry about. They certainly lack the ability to damage the world, if that's your concern.”

Tjenemit purses his lips and draws out the following three words in order to gain some time to think. “I suppose not? If they are no danger and are following your instructions, then that's fine with me as long as you take responsibility for their actions.” He furrows his forehead and studies the ceiling. “I suppose I never forbade to arrange assistance.”

“I have all of them quite firmly in hand. They are only using their abilities to shape the mortals' opinion of me,” I reassure him quickly, hoping that I am not leaning too far out of the window by vouching for Ashley and her daughters.

This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

Finally, he concludes, “It just makes me wish that all members of this project would be dedicated enough to build up an organizational structure which makes it hard for anyone of mentionable power to slip past their attention. It's recommendable that you invest so much effort.” His eyes drift over the other deities. “Most of you just go with the flow, like driftwood on a river instead of trying to actively steer the boat.”

I nod quickly and bow slightly in my seat. “I can assure you that I have my eyes on everyone who is a possible candidate for godhood. You will be informed, should they come anywhere close to ascension.”

He tilts his head and nods slowly. “Just remember to remain passive. I don't want to wake up and find out that the world went to shit and our project is busted, just because two deities had an argument.” His eyes wander over to Myrm.

“I can assure you that I won't act without provocation,” Myrm replies.

“Then stop the provocations from your side,” I snitch. “First, you attacked one of my most important followers within my own temple, and now you are sending mind-manipulated spies after my followers. Worse, you attacked me right in front of a Council member. I think they call such behaviour being a loose cannon!”

“It wasn't a temple! It was and still is a palace! You are just trying to misconstrue the truth!” Myrm replies, shaking beneath his armour. “And it's certainly not my fault if my followers are offended by yours. You said it yourself, the wheels of fate are inevitable for the mortals.”

“You did something to protect their minds against invasion!” I accuse. “I don't know how you did it, but it's quite clear that you are actively helping your believers! No mortal has access to such knowledge!”

“Doesn't that mean that you were also helping yours with the interrogation? How else would you know that I protected their minds?” Myrm quickly turns my accusation around, painting the both of us in the same light. “How would you expect me to do less than you.”

Tjenemit raises a hand to stop us. “I have nothing against a little healthy competition, but I realize that I have to make the rules a little clearer than they currently are. After all, without strife in the world, those with power have no reason to reveal themselves. Just make sure not to raise hands against each other, and don't start slaughtering the other side's mortals in great numbers. There is no sport in that.”

“Understood,” I assure him quickly.

Myrm reluctantly affirms Tjenemit of his consent.

To my great relief, the Council member doesn't press the issue further and leaves the room after a few more questions, each aimed at different members of the pantheon.

There didn't seem to be any particular interest behind the random topics of Tjenemit's inquisition.

So I quickly form the opinion that Tjenemit just wanted to make sure that he addressed each member of the pantheon with a personal issue. He just wanted them to know that they are being watched.

Now that the nuisance is gone and the first large meeting between the gods officially ended, I retrieve my ghost cat familiar from beneath my cloak and rub the little kitten absent-mindedly against my cheek. I was hiding him as an assurance policy beneath my clothes and intentionally chose to wear flabby linen attire. I wasn't sure what would happen in this meeting, so in case that I would have to flee, my pet could have bought me a few moments to retreat.

The ghost cat isn't on par with a deity like Tjenemit, but after having fed on my mana for a few centuries, I am relatively sure that it could at least inconvenience a god of his calibre for a few precious seconds.

Cuddling time is over when a shadow falls on me.

I look up from where I am sitting, just to be confronted by Myrm and two other deities. Myrm is in his usual full-body armour, which isn't just useless but surely also uncomfortable. Then there are two others who I don't know much about. A woman of mixed racial ancestry. Her skin is slightly yellowish and there are some ridges along the upper part of her ears which peek out from beneath a brown mane of hair.

The fellow next to Myrm is even larger than the god of Order. His muscles ripple proudly among his bare chest. A display of manliness I never achieved. Not that I would ever want to look like a rhino on steroids. Modern technology can shape a body into almost any form, and most deities are petty enough to do that, just to caress their ego.

But seriously, why is he running around with his upper body naked? He is just in pants! Is he trying to start a new trend? Are we switching to togas in the Crystal City?

I make a show of shuddering slightly as if I were intimidated by their display. “Uuh... Ooh... guys, you are so menacing, I might have to run away. This feels like one of those classroom moments when the MC confronts the local bullies.”

Good. I managed to sound not too mocking.

The woman next to Myrm frowns. “We aren't bullies, we are just here to ask a question. In our function of representing the light in the world,” she adds quickly. “You aren't showing your face often enough to confront you in a less obvious manner. If we hadn't made ourselves known, you would have just vanished without talking to anyone.”

“Shoot,” I reply and watch them expectantly while I cuddle my pet against my chest.

“We want you to stop raising that Empire of yours,” Myrm replies.

“No,” I deny. “Are there any other pressing matters I can help you with?”

“Now, listen, asshole. It's because of your religion that people are accusing me of not helping them.” MuscleBoy stabs his finger accusingly in my direction. “And pack away that pet while you are talking to us!”

“Now, you can do many things, but don't draw little Claws into this,” I reply and shelter the kitten in my palms. “He doesn't like being called a pet by some no-name deity.”

“Didn't you call it Lucifer the other time you were here?” the yellow goddess asks.

“Possible...” I admit after a moment of hesitation. “He is a pet. His name is whatever I want it to be.”

The woman and Myrm seem stunned at being introduced to my point of view on the matter.

“What can I say? I am just not good with names... though I think that I was better with them while I was in a woman's body,” I mumble. “I think that I cared more about names while I was Nova... could be some effect of the different brain-structure, after all, I had this body grown according to specifications. Or it could be the hormones.” I shrug. Who cares. There is more important research which I can spend my time on.

“Don't ignore me!” The man stomps his foot. “I am Ardun! The God of War! Nobody makes fun of me and lives to tell the tale!”

Who does he think he is? He is... what... a mid-tier deity at most, judging by his soul's aura. This assignment seems to mess with the heads of some weak-minded individuals.

“Now, now.” I slide into an upright position. “I hope that all of you know that there is no public fighting in the Crystal City. Any damage caused by excessive use of force has to be paid for. I doubt that any of you are liquid enough to afford that.”

Even if most of the stuff in the Crystal City is made out of Mana Crystal and per definition indestructible, planet included, it doesn't change the fact that many of us brought stuff from other worlds to this place. And that's what someone should be worried about. Replacing some god's stash of ancient artefacts ain't cheap.

At least the girl hesitates, but Myrm and MuscleForBrains don't seem all that impressed.

He huffs. “Then let's settle this in the closet!”

The woman's eyes widen and she quickly walks over to her friend's side. “Ardun, are you insane!? You know his reputation! We said that we would just have a talk. I won't be a part of this if things get physical.”

He wants the closet, eh? I know that the term comes across as a little stupid, but it's a little insider-joke among the inhabitants of the Crystal City. If two gods want to settle their differences with a brawl, they lock themselves inside a room which is completely enclosed in mana crystal, making it impossible for the damage to affect the rest of the planet.

“Fine,” I reply and get up. “I think there is an empty storeroom just across the hallway, which should suffice for our level of disagreement, or do you want to make it public? To be honest, I don't have the time for an official appointment in the arena...”

The idiot nods and starts towards the door.

“Ardun! I said no!” the girl hisses, followed by a slightly hesitant Myrm who seems to be torn between joining the foolish brawl and staying back. Probably he still remembers the incident when I messed him up.

The commotion draws attention from the rest of the room and Seria is quick to come over. “What's going on?”

“This big and manly fellow challenged me,” I gesture towards the idiot.

Seria just throws a short look at MuscleForBrains and then glares at me. “No.”

“What, no?” I ask. “Why am I not allowed to accept a challenge? And who are you to tell me what I can do?”

“It would be unfair.” Seria judges and crosses her arms. “I won't be the one who explains to Tjenemit that he is down one test-subject because you took a soul.”

“But Seria!” MuscleForBrain interrupts, but the goddess stops him with a raised hand. “You are just a mid-level deity. Why are you even picking a fight with him? Are you stupid? Who egged you on to do this?”

His eyes search the room, landing shortly on his girlfriend, then on Myrm, but his manly pride doesn't seem to allow him to confess. “Nobody! He just pisses me off with his Empire! There is no war, so nobody is praying to me. I only get summoned to some boring wasteland, where goblin-tribes quarrel with each other.”

I smirk and return my attention to Seria. “What if I promise not to hurt him? I won't even touch his soul.”

He snorts. “How do you want to fight if you can't hurt me?”

“Let that be my problem.” I reply without looking at him. “So, Seria, how is it?”

She looks indecisive. “No soul magic?”

“No soul magic.” I nod.

She hesitates, narrowing her eyes at me, but in the end she allows us to settle our differences.

A few steps outside of Studio 7 and across the hallway is the empty storage room. MuscleForBrain and I take position in front of the door after having checked that the room is empty and without windows. We are followed by Seria, Myrm and the girlfriend, accompanied by a crowd of interested onlookers.

Smiling, I gesture towards the open door made out of mana crystal, an original installation of the creators of the city. “Please, have the honour of going first.” I bow. “I want to make sure that I am between you and the door. Just don't forget, whoever teleports out of that room loses per default.”

Raising his head, he huffs and strolls into the room. “As if I would have a reason to flee. Can't hurt me... laughable!”

Quickly, I toss in my familiar after him and close the door. By leaning against it, I make sure that nobody can escape the room. Now facing the crowd, I watch their surprised expressions.

That is, until there is a girlish scream and a mighty roar from the other side of the door.

Something bangs against the panel, almost throwing open the door despite my efforts to hold it closed. The people around me take a surprised step backwards while there are more roars and screams from the other side. Then there is frantic banging as if someone is hammering his fists against the closed exit.

Another mighty roar and the door shakes again, almost throwing me over.

And then there is only silence.

“Did, did you just toss your familiar into that room to fight for you!?” Seria gasps, realizing her mistake. I promised that I wouldn't harm the idiot. Nobody mentioned that my pet couldn't fight for me.

“Yes,” I reply, but raise a finger to stop any complaints. “Shush! Do you hear that?”

Scratch. Scratch. Scratch.

And then again.

Scratch. Scratch. Scratch.

Oh, that's music in my ears. It's coming from the other side of the door, so I open what must have seemed to Lucifer like one of his feeding pens.

Purring, the little kitten strolls out of the room like a king, leaving behind little red footprints.

Cooing, I pick him up and taste the blood on his paws with a fingertip. “Urgh! That guy tastes awful! Much too many steroids! Remind me to get you some natural beef later on.”