Rising god
Chapter 47: Long enough

Chapter 47: Long enough

But after a while, Baines didn’t overthink it.

One of those said gods had recently appeared on his list. If he were destined to stand against the gods in the future, he might as well begin by arming himself with their weapons. That was only fair.

For the second time that day, he reached inward, opening his heart’s core. A stream of Ashenfall energy surged from within him, and the violent torrent of power poured out like a wave of water.

He then directed and poured it into the armband shackled around his arm.

The band was made of blackened steel laced with mysterious, archaic runes and connected by twin chains running from wrist to shoulder.

The metal trembled the moment the energy touched it. The armband pulsed hungrily and began devouring the Ashenfall, swallowing it like a ravenous beast.

It drank deeply, far beyond what Baines expected. His eyes widened in disbelief.

Even Wick, the powerful lich who had once used him as a catalyst to break through, hadn’t taken twice as much. Yet this artifact consumed even more. It startled him. The quantity of Ashenfall within him was enormous, almost monstrous in scale, but the artifact nearly emptied it.

After absorbing his energy, the shackles trembled and awakened. In that moment, Baines understood its function instinctively, as if the artifact whispered secrets to him.

The shackle had two primary forms. First, there was the physical chain, which could conjure iron-like chains at will, countless in number and unlimited in size. This alone was astonishing. The sheer quantity, the length, and the density, everything about them could be molded depending on the user’s strength and will.

Then came the second form, the ethereal chain, far more mysterious and dangerous. Unlike the physical chains that could bind the body, these were chains of the soul. They latched onto the soul itself, restraining one’s will, and dragged the soul into the strange realm he had previously been.

As he stood there, the forest around him was eerily silent, and his mind trembled.

No—expanded. It was like a floodgate had opened, and knowledge poured in.

Understanding bloomed like a lotus in spring.

He had gained insights far beyond his previous grasp.

The concept of ascendance over mortality surged within him.

Just in this forest alone, he had made more progress in it than all the time he spent combined in other places. And what progress did he just make?

Now, he could see the outlines of the soul.

He turned his gaze toward Wick, but strangely, he could perceive nothing from the lich. Perhaps it was due to Wick’s unusual nature as an undead.

But in Smalltooth, he saw it, a foggy glowing white outline, nestled deep within her essence. It was the same for him.

However, it ended there; he could only see the outlines, the rest was just foggy.

He exhaled slowly, calming his elated nerves, and closed his heart’s core once more.

Then faced the temple.

The temple stood silently before him, weathered by time yet unmoved, untouched by the decay that plagued the rest of the forest or the monstrous attacks that flew about.

This place was the real reason he had ventured into the Mortuary Forest. The shackles were a bonus, Wick was a plus, but the true prize lay beyond the marble pillars and cracked stairs.

He stepped forward.

As he neared the temple entrance, a divine pressure slammed into him. It pressed down like an invisible mountain. His knees threatened to buckle. But then, Wick raised its skeletal hand from behind, and with a simple wave, the pressure dispersed like mist before sunlight.

Baines continued inward.

The source of the lingering divine power was not hard to find. Lying atop a stone slab in the heart of the temple was a set of white, polished bones.

The remains of the Slave God.

"So, you truly wished to be remembered," Baines whispered as he reminisced on the preparations he had made.

It was only now that Baines had uncovered the truth. This entire forest was a tomb designed not to preserve the god’s legacy but to resurrect him.

"How would he have returned?" Baines asked aloud, looking at Wick.

"Anyone strong enough to defeat me would’ve been marked," Wick replied, his voice dry as crumbling parchment. "Their soul would be sealed. That soul would fill the dark space that you saw, reigniting the divine vessel. From there, the body would begin reforming."

Baines frowned. "So the slave god would use them as a host?"

Wick nodded. "In the beginning, strong challengers came, but none could defeat me. Eventually, only the weak dared enter. And so, the gods’ plan stagnated. I remained, and the forest fell, eventually becoming a ruin."

’I wouldn’t be surprised if it was a saint then,’ Baines then understood that the lich had gotten weaker over time.

The divine power from the temple was used to keep this forest active and power the lich; however, now left only a residue.

And what did he need the body of the slave god for?

It was among the requirements for the Emperor’s body

Baines picked it without being affected by its divine power and threw it into his pocket space.

RUMBLE...

The temple trembled, then began to collapse. With the god’s remains and residue gone, its purpose ended.

All around the Mortuary Ruin, death knights, duhallans, and skeletal creatures began to disintegrate.

The curse on the land was lifted.

Black fog evaporated from the ruins. The challengers outside, unaware of what had occurred, saw the change and knew instinctively, the ruin had been cleared.

But by whom? It had never been done before, making it all the more shocking.

At the gathering point outside the forest, everyone gathered, waiting for the clearer of the ruins to appear, especially one.

Todd paced nervously. His dragon had disappeared, along with Baines. Hours had passed since then.

Just when he was about to panic—

WHOOSH.

A thunderous flap of wings echoed. A dragon descended from the sky, and atop it rode Baines, covered in dried blood, eyes weary but triumphant.

Gasps rang out.

It became painfully obvious at that moment, Baines had conquered the ruin. As Baines landed, they saw the dried blood around his face, imagining what kind of battle he must’ve experienced.

Todd ran forward and embraced his dragon, checking for injuries while Baines dismounted silently, lost in thought.

It was then,

—Master, I sense intruders.

’Intruders?’ Baines’s eyes sharpened.

—Wait. Don’t attack.

He held Wick back just in time.

DUUUMMM...

Suddenly, the air grew heavy. A massive pressure descended on them all. Even Baines staggered.

The ground cracked beneath his knees.

"T-this... Arghhh..."

Everyone around him collapsed, clutching their chests.

From the edge of the clearing, a massive man stepped forward. He radiated the crushing aura of someone far beyond mortal.

"Jin," the man said coldly. "You’ve caused us a lot of trouble."

Baines looked up through gritted teeth.

However,

’Took you long enough,’ he muttered in annoyance.

This was the second reason he had taken that holiday: to draw these people out.

He had taken out 60% of the underground forces. Obviously, the remaining 40% were bound to be angry.

Naturally, they were now his enemies, and what that also meant was, they were the elites of the underground organizations.

Now, those people were his goal.

’Eye, do it.’

[CAUSING INTERNAL INJURY]

A torrent of blood burst from Baines’s mouth as his body collapsed. Even the intruder froze at the sudden sight.

Thud.

Baines’s vision went dark as he collapsed to the ground.

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