[Book 7: Reddest Rage]

Dia stared at the three notifications in silence. Like the others, her muscles had locked up, and she had to set the mug in her hand down slowly. The seven-coloured rectangle in front of her…no, the three sets of rectangles floating in her vision…

< With the scales tilting, the Trial of Aeons shall open to two lives.>

There were two other similar messages, each of them proclaiming the death of a Bearer of Destiny.

Schwarz set his bottle down on the table. “Three died. Is this a good thing? Or is there something greater that we don’t know about? Someone who can kill three Bearers of Destiny this effortlessly?”

Dia felt something run down her spine as the Moons peeked out of the shadowy disk that covered their grand visage, one day before schedule. Crescent Moon had arrived one day early, and from the announcement that had cruelly proclaimed the death of three Bearers of Destiny, she could tell that the murderer was someone who had the Moons’ blessing. At the same time, the others followed suit, their eyes peering up at the early arrival of Crescent Moon, and then turned to Caroline and Nightfall, who were sponging off free food from Moon Mansion when the disturbing notifications smacked their faces.

“Do you know what is going on?” Count Nightfall asked, reclining on his chair as he directed a question to Nero. For all his poise, however, Dia — and everyone else — could see his pale, shaken face, which detracted from the air of confidence he was trying to give off.

That, and the crumbs on his clothes, which he had coughed out just moments ago.

“The Dark, the Moons and the Coloured Gods.” Nero, whose face was shaken, took a deep breath. “What a mess.”

“Before that, though, what exactly is this Trial of Aeons?” Farah asked.

“The Trial of Aeons…” Nero shook his head. “Apparently, it marks the beginning of a new era. I do not know much about it, but the prophecies state that the qualifications to become a deca-folder lie in the Trial of Aeons. Anyone who succeeds will be, regardless of their current strength, be qualified to scale the heights to true power.”

“A deca-folder…does that even exist?” Risti asked. “The records I know of speak of ten-folders as a legend, as a fabrication of fantasy.”

“They do exist. In fact…” Nero paused. “Well, in the previous era, before the Coloured Gods existed as they are now, there were nine deca-folders. Forgive me for being this roundabout, but you’ll have to work out what I said yourself.”

Dia narrowed her eyes. The insinuation here was that the Coloured Gods only became the Coloured Gods by becoming a deca-folder. In other words…

“The qualification for divinity.”

“Yes. And once the Trial of Aeons is over, the survivors may gain the qualification to become a deca-folder,” said Nero. “As for what that entails…it’s a bit obvious, I guess. They’ll wrestle against the existing regimes and struggle for power, bringing about a new age.”

He paused. “The Fourth Godsfall, in other words. However, this Trial of Aeons is not something that occurred before. We only know this because of prophecies and revelations leading up the Fourth Godsfall.”

“Will that happen?” Farah asked. “The Fourth Godsfall.”

“Yes, but probably in a manner that won’t follow precedent.” Nero paused. “But before I can assert why, I need everyone who is not a bi-folder and above to leave the room…which just leaves Caroline, Nightfall and Dia.”

“Discrimination, I say.” Schwarz got up, before grinning. “Come on, guys. This is business.”

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

“Yeah, we know.” Risti and Farah left the seats. “Remember to tell us again when we’re bi-folders, alright?”

“Only if you get me a strong drink,” Nero replied. “Shoo. And remember, unless you want to die a horrible death — literally — don’t eavesdrop.”

He turned to Dia. “It’ll hurt for you. You might feel like dying.”

“Don’t worry.” Dia grimaced. “I’ve had the experience once. I don’t think it’ll hurt to have another set of molten iron hammers bashing at the insides of my head.”

“Alright.” Nero turned to the two rulers of Licencia. “It won’t be that bad for you two, but you know. In case one of you has a hidden side that really, really fears pain.”

He took a deep breath and raised his voice. “Schwarz, don’t even think of trying. Just get out of here. I’ll tell you lot about it once you guys become a bi-folder.”

“Damn it,” a voice replied from outside the door.

“Told you. Just move first. Nero’s stuck here anyway,” Risti replied. “And he’s not lying. Knowledge can kill. Your head will explode, and you’ll turn into gooey chunks of flesh and—”

“I just had dinner, Risti,” Farah cut in. “You two, move.”

Nero waited for a while, and then nodded. “Great, they’re gone. First, I’m going to address a few things. In recent times, you might have noted a drop in lifestones, right? Lifestone mines drying up, whatever. This usually occurs at the end of an era. However, after the Trial of Aeons, resource distribution will shift and grow, creating a generation of powerhouses. They’ll usher in a new era where snatching and killing over resources is a thing.”

Dia gritted her teeth as she processed this information. Those words seemed to carry a mind of their own, and her head throbbed as they wreaked havoc inside. For a moment, her eyesight took on a bloody hue, and viscous liquid ran down her face.

“Ugh.”

“You alright?” Nero asked.

Dia nodded. “Get it over with. This isn’t the kind of pain I want to be exposed to over any longer than necessary.”

“Alright. Just stop me if it hurts too much, okay?” Nero shook his head. “Seriously, you probably didn’t need to know these things either, but I suppose you do need to look out for your mistress. Alright. Second, the Trial of Aeons will force the Coloured Gods to descend, if their own Bearer of Destiny is dead. That’s the true purpose of the churches — to protect their master if they’re forced into a vulnerable state. Unfortunately, the same cannot be said for the Moons and the Dark, who are the challengers of this round. Given how this whole thing is shaping up—”

The burning pain in Dia’s head intensified rapidly, and she began to groan. The agony ran down her body, scorching her muscles and flesh, and it took everything Dia had to not scream. As she writhed around, a corner of her mind dimly noted that the others weren’t reacting well either, right before her vision turned white.

After an indeterminate amount of time, she got back up slowly. The floor was wet with sweat, and after glancing once at her clothes, Dia shook her head. “I don’t think I can listen to the last bit.”

Nero, who was averting his eyes from her, nodded. “Sure. Go and rest or something…well, these two can’t take it either. I guess the secret-telling session will have to end here for today.”

“I get a feeling that death awaits me if I continue on,” Count Nightfall forced out, his face pale. “You guys also get that feeling, right?”

The two of them nodded. Dia could feel a hint of danger, as well as a great deal of resistance from her subconscious, the moment she entertained the thought of listening to Nero speak once more. Was that last secret something that she couldn’t hear? Or was it the result of having been weakened multiple times by Nero’s revelation of prior secrets?

Whatever the case, it would seem that she had to space it out a bit. Making a mental note to ask Nero about it tomorrow or the day after, she got up off her chair.

“I’m going to wash up,” Dia muttered. “See you guys in a while.”

Staggering off to her room, she grabbed a new set of clothes and had a quick wash. That single story-telling session had been so painful that she had sweated out every drop of water and fizz in her body, and before long, her throat was crying out for more drinks.

Pulling on a dry set of clothes, she headed downstairs. Count and Countess Nightfall had left, citing a bloody headache and other related ills, and Dia couldn’t blame them either.

Risti supported her slowly as she appeared at the doorway, helping her to a seat. “Feeling better?”

“Yeah.” Dia paused. “Don’t worry, Nero. I’m quite fine.”

“I-is that so?” Nero had a guilty look on his face. “I overestimated your Authority, so…”

“I think you underestimated something, rather.” Dia forced a smile onto her face and turned to Schwarz. “Can I have a drink?”

“I’ll get you a classic nerve-number,” Schwarz replied. “Hang on for a moment; I’ll be right back with the magic drink. It’s one of my personal, weak brews.”

He ran off, spent ten seconds to do something, and returned with a small bottle. “Here. Have a painkiller.”

Dia downed the strawberry-flavoured drink, and her crying nerves began to shut up. “Wow. It works like magic.”

“Glad to hear that. It’s something I made on the off-chance a kid runs past the tavern and trips over something there. Stops their crying and their bleeding,” Schwarz replied. “Anyway…what should we do with this Trial of Aeons?”

“All Bearers of Destiny will enter,” said Nero, “so unless you guys are supremely confident your own skills, I suggest that we stick to the underground base plan we had going on and not meddle in the whole thing.”

“Oh.” Risti sighed. “Okay.”

“Yeah, that’s how it is.” Nero shook his head. “We can reasonably expect traitorous Chromatic Lords and monsters of the previous era to contest for entry, at least. Your Emperor Grandis will too. I’m not sure about Nihal, though. And as for Supreme Saran…haha. Maybe we might see an epic showdown between the two antiquated continents.”

“I get a feeling you’re mocking us, really.”

“Oh, no. Definitely not.”

Everyone eyed Nero as one, and he shivered.

“Anyway,” said Nero, his voice infused with artificial cheer, “what should we do about the army of Moon footsoldiers headed our way?”

“So, about that…” Schwarz took a deep breath. “Let’s head to the walls first.”