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[Under-Realm]

Deep within the abyss beneath the mortal realm, where whispers of ancient lore reverberated through caverns of uncharted vastness, a gathering of great significance unfolded...

...An eerie silence fell, as an otherworldly, guttural voice called forth, demanding to be heard.

"Well?" it boomed, the very air quivering with the weight of its presence. "What news do you bring me?"

"My esteemed and ancient master," Sebastien gave praise, before emerging from the shadows with a grace reflective of his post. "The sins of the Gods are beginning to reveal themselves."

"Hm. Elaborate." the voice commanded, it's tone laced with curiosity and... displeasure?

Sebastien took a deep, deliberate breath before speaking. "Since the beginning of the second birth, Our meticulously plotted scheme has been set in motion, sire. The transgressions of the gods are rising to the surface from the murky depths in which they were cast."

...The voice, belonging to a deity known only as 'Beyond', God of Under-realm, pondered the implications of this revelation. His grandeur was palpable, though his features remained hidden in shadow. "Their misdeeds shall not be allowed to dwell in obscurity any longer," he declared, his words resonating with the power of his dominion.

"Yes sire, however," Sebastien paused, an air of solemnity filling the space, "the capabilities of these... 'sins', is far greater than we had foreseen."

The deity's expression was unreadable in the dim light, yet his tone was one of disquiet. "Explain," he demanded.

"The... 'sins' have exhibited an unexpected resilience," Sebastien replied, his voice steadfast despite the tremor of the deity's power. "They have the potential to obstruct our plan to cover the entire continent in a veil of shadow."

Beyond's eyes, twin pools of abyssal darkness, narrowed with fury. "Do these 'sins of the God's' dare stand in the way of our purpose?" His words were a crescendo of anger and disbelief.

Sebastien lowered his gaze. "Possibly, sire. Their power is formidable, even comparable to the 'Four kings of Hell'."

The deity took a moment to digest this unforeseen challenge before speaking once more. "Prepare the next phase, then," he said with a finality that brooked no argument. "The gods' sins shall be laid bare before the eyes of all."

Sebastien nodded, a silent affirmation. "As you wish, sire."

"Your dedication does not go unnoticed," Beyond said, his voice carrying the warmth of genuine praise. "Your loyalty is a testament to our cause."

"Thank you, sire," Sebastien replied, his form fading slightly as he bowed his head. "Your will be done, God of the Under-realm and Sovereign of Darkness, 'Beyond'."

"..."

-Avaricia-

[The Village, Barley]

The early morning in Barley remained cloaked in a thick veil of snowfall, the heavy flakes falling with a solemn grace that seemed to mourn the fate of the village. The once-bustling streets lay eerily quiet, the only sound the mournful sigh of the wind as it danced through the abandoned buildings. Each flake was a whisper of fate, a silent messenger of the prophecy that had brought so much pain and loss to the residents, Barley.

Arteus, his shoulders squared and his steps deliberate, began the slow ascent up a hill that stood sentinel over the village. His breaths came in short bursts, puffing out clouds of mist that clung to the air like ghosts.

As he climbed, the image of the once-thriving Barley grew clearer in his mind's eye. The village had been a bastion of warmth and color in the stark winter landscape, with chimneys puffing out plumes of smoke that painted the sky with whispers of life. The memory was a stark contrast to the scene before him now, a tableau of devastation, of cold, unyielding white that stretched as far as the eye could see.

The crunch of snow beneath his boots grew louder, a rhythmic reminder of his solitary march towards the unknown. Each step brought a new memory to the forefront of his thoughts: the warmth of Hanna's embrace, the scent of her herbs simmering on the stove, the gentle hum of her voice as she recounted the tales of their ancestors and the gods they had once revered and... her disdain for them.

"Feast upon the flesh of the gods!" the words reverberated across the hollow walls of his psyche, her voice a cacophony of malicious intent.

"Reduce to ash all that symbolizes their divinity!" The words ricocheted, with a fervor that could ignite the very stars themselves.

Arteus clenched his fists, his eyes narrowing as he murmured silently to himself, "I know, mother..."

He took a deep breath, the frigid air searing his lungs like the fire of Mount Kendo. His heart thudded in his chest, a steady drumbeat that seemed to sync with the rhythm of his thoughts. He had come so far, endured so much.

Pausing at the crest of the hill, Arteus slowly turned to face the sea of faces that stretched out before him, the villagers of Barley standing in a ragged line, their eyes filled with a mix of hope, fear, and doubt.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

"Hmm," Arteus mused to the void, his breath materializing into a fleeting cloud in the frigid air.

The villagers of Barley, once so quick to cast him out, now followed in his footsteps, a testament to the strange dance of fate that had led them here. Their eyes held a mix of hope and fear, but it was the unmistakable glint of loyalty that surprised him most. They had witnessed his power, had seen the gods' wrath turned aside by his hand, and now they placed their faith in him as if he were a beacon of salvation in the dark storm of prophecy.

Their destination? The Holy City of Sovereign, which is ironic given the city is actually known for it's levels of sin and depravity.

A little while ago, Lilly had led Gracie by the hand, her eyes scanning the horizon with a fierce determination that seemed to belie her young age. The snowfall had abated somewhat, leaving behind a landscape that was stark and hauntingly beautiful, a tableau of white that whispered secrets of the world before the prophecy had unfolded. Gracie's heart had pounded in her chest, a mix of hope and dread coiled tightly around her ribs as she followed her sister's gaze.

"I saw him," Lilly had murmured, her voice carrying a tension that was as palpable as the chill in the air. "Arteus came this way."

"This is a bad idea," Millie's voice was tight with anxiety as she clung to Lilly's back.

"Yeah?" Lilly responded, "Then tell me one that doesn't end with us getting chewed out by some freaking yeti in some cave somewhere."

The group exchanged nervous chuckles, a rare moment of levity in the face of the grim reality that surrounded them. But as they crested the hill, their laughter died in their throats, swallowed by the cold embrace of the prophecy's aftermath. The village lay before them, a frozen tomb that had once been a beacon of life and warmth.

"When the world turned to shit," Lilly said, her eyes scanning the lifeless horizon, "Arteus was the one who saved us."

"I'm banking on him being the one who can get us outta this mess." Lilly murmured, her voice barely audible over the mournful whispers of the wind.

It was then that she saw him—a flicker of movement in the distance, a figure perched in the skeletal embrace of a leafless tree. Her heart skipped a beat, a sudden warmth flushing through her frozen veins. "Arteus!" she shouted, her voice cracking like a whip through the stillness.

The figure on the hilltop didn't turn, but she knew he heard her. He had to have heard her.

"You came." Arteus voice came, a mix of curiosity and surprise as he jumped down from the tree branch, his eyes gleaming in the early light.

"Of course!" Lilly exclaimed, her tone upbeat and unchecked.

Millie, offered a wry smile, her eyes glinting with a mischief that seemed almost out of place amidst the devastation. "Well, after what we faced yesterday," she quipped, her voice carrying the warmth of a roaring hearth, "I say we put this 'god-slayer' of ours to good use. Maybe as a human shield?"

Her words hung in the air, a tension-breaking jest that brought a smile to the others' faces. Even Gracie, whose eyes remained fixed on the distant figure of Arteus, couldn't help but laugh.

"Oh, and we're not alone," Lilly added, turning to gesture back at the slowly dispersing mist.

And from the shroud emerged a line of villagers, their figures silhouetted by the pale light of dawn. Each one of them, once frozen in fear and despair, now moved with a newfound resolve. Their breaths puffed out in the cold, misty air as they approached, their eyes fixed on Arteus. They bore their meager possessions in sacks and bundles slung over their shoulders, each step a declaration of their trust and faith in the young man who stood before them, the one who had brought them hope in the heart of a frozen wasteland.

Now, as the group approached the outskirts of the village, Arteus found himself walking alongside two unlikely companions. To his left was Castrol, the village chief whose stern gaze had once held nothing but suspicion. To his right was Wyatt, the man whose fear had driven him to betrayal. Yet here they were, their footsteps falling in sync as they marched out of the frozen abyss that was once their home.

"Thank you," Castrol said, his voice gruff but earnest, his eyes never leaving the path ahead. "For saving my family, and for giving us a chance to fight back."

"It's all good," Arteus responded, his voice steady and reassuring. "We're all in this together. All of Barley."

Castrol nodded, his eyes lingering on the horizon. "Indeed, we are," he agreed, his expression a mask of solemnity. "But there's something I need to make clear."

Arteus tensed, his eyes flickering to Castrol. "..?"

Castrol took a deep breath, his hand tightening on the strap of his pack. "While I am in your debt," he began, his voice gruff but measured, "and while I respect your strength and resolve, I am a man of Avarician faith. The laws of All-Sky are clear about those born of... such circumstances."

He paused, his gaze drifting over to the survivors who had gathered around the fire, their faces etched with hope and fear. "But," he continued, "the prophecy has turned our world upside down. Our village is in ruins, and our gods... silent. In these times of desperation, we must put aside our fears and focus on survival. I can offer you what little food we have, and the protection of our numbers. In return, we ask for your guidance and protection on this long trek."

"Do these terms suit you, Arteus?" Castrol's question hung in the air, thick with the weight of the offer he had just laid before them. His gaze searched the young man's face, looking for any sign of disagreement or contempt.

"... do what you want," Arteus responded, his eyes never leaving the path ahead. The words hung in the air, a declaration of his willingness to let go of the past, to embrace the future that lay before them.

He turned to face Wyatt curiously, his gaze piercing the older man's soul. The silence between them was as deep and vast as the chasm of doubt that had opened within him. Arteus had never been one for words, preferring the quiet solace of the natural world, but he was curious. "What, boy?" Wyatt asked, his voice carrying the weight of his own uncertainties.

"Nothing." Arteus' response was as cold as the very air that surrounded them.

"Tch," Wyatt snorted, his tongue flicking out to lash the air with his contempt, "all the way to Sovereign you...unclean beast."

The venom in his voice was unmistakable, and yet Arteus met it with a knowing smile. "Well, look who's finally decided to become open with their feelings," he said, "Regardless, i'll do everything in my power to make sure everyone gets to Sovereign in one piece."

"Though, that doesn't make me responsible for your lives. Hope those terms are acceptable?" Arteus's voice was like the crunch of fresh snow underfoot, a blend of innocence and challenge. His smirk was a silent declaration of his acceptance, yet it held the promise of his unpredictability.

"Well then, with that out of the way. To Sovereign we go," he concluded, his voice a clarion call that seemed to resonate with the very fabric of the world.

The group, now a motley assembly of survivors, watched him intently. Some nodded solemnly, others looked away, the weight of his words a stark reminder of the trials that lay ahead. Arteus looked up to the sky, the clouds parting to reveal the distant gleam of the city of Sovereign. It was a beacon in the frozen wasteland, a bastion of warmth and civilization amidst the endless sea of white...

...or at least thats what they wanted it to be.

-To Be Continued-