{One month ago}
Inside a large meeting hall, the room was mostly taken up by a grandiose table, intricate carvings covering every inch of it other than the top, even the bottom of the table wasn’t left bare. People were sitting in chairs that matched the table, each having a distinct appearance. With the glowing auras around them, there was no mistaking it, these were gods.
“On the authority of I, Morath the god of Law, I declare this meeting officially started!”
Slamming a gavel, the man at the head of the table, and owner a magnificent beard, stated with a booming voice.
“The objective of this meeting is to decide who should champion this generation’s Summoned Hero”
One of the other people in the room, a woman with a kind smile, spoke up.
“Why not give it to the embryo? That should be more than enough to push it over the edge.”
“Embryo? You are referring to Technology correct Tya?”
Tya merely smiled before talking once more.
“Yes, having another god would boost humanity’s domain another step, and I believe we all know that this one will quickly become a major god.”
Most of the people nodded, mumbling in agreement. However, a few frowned one of which, a Red-haired man wearing armor rather than clothes, slammed his hands as he stood up from his chair.
“Ridiculous! ‘Technology’ will destroy humanity! Making them lazy!-”
Cutting off was a man with a well-kept mustache, a pair of thin-rimmed glasses hanging on the bridge of his nose.
“Taruk, don’t think I don’t know your church has several Airships all armed with cannons, so don’t act like you hate technology”
This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.
Taruk’s face turned beet red, scrunching his face up like a pufferfish, he held himself back from jumping the table to tackle the man. But in the end, he took a large strained breath through his nose and sat down, at which point Morath continued.
“While I would love the addition of a new member to this table, it is imperative that this hero is the strongest in all recorded history”
After taking a moment to let his words sink in, he turned to another god and nodded. The one who he nodded to was a curvaceous goddess, who looked like a stereotypical gypsy, standing she spoke.
“As we all know, fifty years ago, I divined that the next Demon King would arise one year from today. However, at the time I felt a great sense of woe. So recently I decided that with the allotted time quickly approaching, that I should do a more thorough divination”
She took a deep breath before continuing
“And what I saw in my divination was… that the next Demon King would be… a dragon”
Immediately the room was in an uproar, all the gods in the room were either trying to scold her for lying, or laugh it off as a joke. Though, all of them had, as clear as day, fear in their eyes.
“Impossible! We all know those self-centered loners would never get enough followers to become a demon king!”
Taruk yelled, this time the hands he had slammed on the table trembling with fear. Morath was the one to speak this time.
“I’m afraid it’s true, that is why you can all understand how critical it is for this hero to be strong.”
An old man, covered in wrinkles wearing a yukata and katana on his hip, spoke.
“Then I will do it, I’m willing to impart the class ‘Sword God’ on them”
Taruk, now speaking with a tone of respect and sorrow said.
“Kenjin if you do that then…”
“If I wanted to become a major god, then I would have done so centuries ago. A dip in power would mean little to me if it would save humanity.”
The room that had been chaotic a few moments ago, was now deadly silent a sense of solemness in the air, sighing, Morath spoke.
“Than it is decided, the Summoned Hero will be a champion of Kenjin the god of swords. However, as you lack a pope, Taruk will you send yours to train the new hero?”
Shaking his head, Taruk, who now appeared to be a completely different person than before refuted Morthan, with a calm and calculating tone of voice.
“You may be wise, but you are no god of war. It will take more than a year to train a suitable hero. I will send my pope to the front line, buying us some time. Instead, I will send two of my Arch-bishops, one skilled in armor, and one in the sword. They should do well enough for now.”
“I will trust your opinion. If there are no other objections, let us continue on to the matter of who should be the hero’s companion...”