“Holy crap!”

Vremya turned his head. The stinky dog was staring at her screen, her eyes bulging. Vremya looked at the stinky dog for a while longer before turning back to his display. The stinky dog couldn’t control her emotions very well, so her exclamation wasn’t a surprise for him. She probably saw the money in her bank account or something. It wouldn’t be the first time she was stunned by the amount.

“Hey! Old man! You can’t just stare at me and then look away!” Karta slapped her paw against Vremya’s thigh, but it was stopped by an invisible barrier. “What if it was something important?”

Vremya snorted. “The last three times I asked you what you were crying out about, you showed me these weird videos of dogs riding skateboards and doing tricks. I told you I don’t want to see those anymore!”

“Those dogs are impressive, okay?” Karta growled. “You don’t understand how hard life is without thumbs sometimes.”

“You’re a god,” Vremya said. “Just grow some.”

“That’d ruin my whole aesthetic!” Karta snarled and snapped her jaws shut. She snorted. “This isn’t a dog video, alright? Look! Mazokhizm completed a seventh godly avatar run!”

Vremya furrowed his brow and turned his head to look at Karta’s screen. “The god of masochism? Let me Poiskle the meaning of that word….” Vremya swiped through his display, and when he got the result, his face turned blank. He stared at Karta. “So, he’s one of those personality gods, eh? What’s so impressive about a godly avatar run?”

“You remember that time I told you to reach the peak as a lower lifeform?”

“Nope.”

Karta narrowed her eyes. “That time where you said you’d call me Master if you died?”

“Nope.”

“You’re shameless, old man,” Karta said and rolled her eyes. “Anyway, Mazokhizm’s done it seven times now. He holds the record for the most godly avatars created.”

“I could do that easily,” Vremya said, waving his hand. Mazokhizm wasn’t even a primordial god. If a personality god could do it, then a primordial god could do it.

“For the record, the second highest number of godly avatars created is held by Istoriya,” Karta said, raising an eyebrow at Vremya, seeing if he’d react. “He’s made four.”

Vremya inhaled through his nose, creating a whistling sound. “A primordial god lost to a personality god?” His brow furrowed. “That’s not right. What’s the purpose of a godly avatar?” If it was useful, surely more primordial gods would create them. “Does Kosmos have any?”

“Kosmos is a little similar to you,” Karta said with a smirk. “Her avatar got killed, so she went down there and obliterated the dimension. After her hundred thousand years of isolation, the rest of the gods begged her not to try anymore because they missed using her portals while she was gone. Instead, they pay her tributes in the form of golems.”

“How can you call her similar to me?” Vremya asked. “I only killed those who killed me. I didn’t obliterate the dimension.” He shook his head. “So, is the godly avatar only good for combat?”

“It’s basically a clone of yourself,” Karta said. “Godly avatars are as strong as gods.”

Question marks appeared above Vremya’s head. “The peak of power in the lower dimension is godhood?”

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

“Didn’t you Poiskle this, old man? Why are you confused?” Karta blinked. “I mean, it’s basically impossible for a lower lifeform to become a god since the gods know to watch out for it.”

“Hang on,” Vremya said, raising a hand. “Let me Poiskle this.”

“I’m telling you the truth!” Karta snorted. “Fine, if you don’t believe me, search it up yourself.”

“It’s not that I don’t believe you,” Vremya said and opened up his search app. “It’s just that I don’t believe you’re that smart, so the words coming out of your mouth can’t be trusted.” He ignored Karta’s attempts at biting his leg and read through the results. Apparently, the current sword god was a human. He was the first human to reach the peak as a lower lifeform, and when he ascended, he killed the previous sword god in a duel and claimed his divinity. After that happened, the rest of the gods kept an eye out for anyone cultivating techniques within their domains. Once the cultivators got too strong, the gods would either kill them or accept them as an apostle. This led to the formation of temples. And apparently, there was a temple of time created by Kosmos. Vremya scratched his head. Perhaps he had misunderstood the woman. Or perhaps the crazy lady was trying to create a new god of time to fuse with. “Hey, stinky dog, do you have a temple?”

Karta stopped biting Vremya and glared at him. “Who the hell wants to be a snack god? You think we need temples?”

“You have a point there,” Vremya said. “I wouldn’t want to be a stinky dog either.” Now, there were more things on his to-do list. He had to create an army through his system, defeat and kidnap Istoriya’s users, locate the temple of time and hash things out with the people inside, and he also had to kill Istoriya’s godly avatars too. Unfortunately, Istoriya couldn’t be dealt with in the usual manner of waiting eons for the problem to disappear. If anything, as more time passed, Istoriya’s encroachment on Vremya’s domain would get larger and larger. Vremya rubbed his head. “If godly avatars are as strong as gods, why don’t more gods make them?”

“There’s a reason why the god of masochism has the highest number of avatars,” Karta said. “It’s absurdly difficult to reach the peak. First off, you need a god-grade spirit root made from a titan core. That prevents ninety-nine percent of the gods from starting in the first place. Afterwards, there’s a tradition in the lower dimension where the people there examine the spirit roots of their children to determine how well they’d do in the future. If there’s an infant with a god-grade spirit root, someone will hear about it and steal the spirit root. God-grade spirit roots can create pills that let people advance a whole cultivation level with no side effects, and people down there are power-thirsty as heck.”

Vremya rubbed his chin. “Sounds like a problem that can easily be solved by sending a golem down as a protector.”

“You wish,” Karta said and sneered. “To become a god, you need the heaven-defier status, and to get that, you can’t have any heavenly help. The only thing you can bring down as an avatar is knowledge.”

“What if I grow my avatar past its infancy stages in a relatively safe dimension?”

“Transferring your avatar over from the safe dimension to the main dimension counts as heavenly help.” Karta opened up a map on her display and pointed. “You can only create a godly avatar in this specific lower dimension. Other dimensions aren’t large enough to create a god.”

“Didn’t you say Kosmos obliterated the lower dimension when she went down to make an avatar?”

“That’s why this dimension’s the only option left. There used to be more, but they got destroyed over time by frustrated gods. It takes eons upon eons for a good-sized dimension to be formed.”

“Eons, eh?” Vremya asked, raising an eyebrow. He glanced down at his bellybutton. Was it possible to grow a godly avatar inside of it? It had certainly been a long time since the galaxy was stuffed in there. Did it count as a dimension?

***

An old woman was on a riverbank, washing her clothes in the running water. She dunked her apron into the water, and when she pulled it back up, it was much heavier than usual. Her brow furrowed, and she unfurled the apron. A wrinkled baby fell out of it, landing by her feet. “Fuck me!” she shouted and leapt back. Had she accidently dunked a baby into the river!? When did it crawl into her apron!? Was it … dead? She glanced around, but there was no one else in sight. She picked up the baby and found that it was still alive. She had always wanted a child, but her fiancé had died the day before their marriage. Afterwards, her next fiancé died the day after they were engaged. Her third fiancé died when a sword fell out of nowhere and impaled him. After that, she gave up on love, but it seemed like the heavens didn’t want her to be childless forever. “I’ll name you—”

“Vremya.”

“Fuck!” the old woman shouted. She looked around, trying to find the person who had crept on her. There was no one but her and the baby. She glanced down at the wrinkled thing in her arms. “Did you…? No, that’s impossible.” She shook her head. “I suppose Vremya is a fine name….”