God From The Abyss

Chapter 18: Chapter 018: Amen.

"Yes, Duchess." He put a hand over his eyes. When he took it away, they were back to their normal gold color, a surprise that he had actually done so, quietly and without fuss.

The pressure in the room immediately disappeared, almost as if a few moments ago never happened.

Weaker individuals caught their breaths whilst clutching their chests, they being the sign that power had walked through.

The family sat down, and since the Duke nor the Duchess had signalled for the meal to start, no one reached out for their cutleries and a heavy silence hung in the air as the servants went about putting back objects that had fallen during Mikael’s ’tests’

A few minutes later, the Duke said the prayers and picked up his fork, followed by his wife, then Evander, and finally the rest of the family.

Mikael felt a mild throbbing at the depth of his core after he’d retracted his Gaze.

When he had awoken, he had built a core for Adrian’s body as he had planned the boy wouldn’t have an ordinary, mortal core as that wouldn’t be be able to bear the strains of divinity.

One of the steps Mikael had taken prior to his trial and eventual sealing away.

Weak, now, yes it was. He had almost depleted the mana from the scuffle outside from summoning his scythe—Ragnarok. A celestial masterpiece, forged from the pieces of these strange Old Gods, powerful enough to slay even the Sovereigns! With enough preparations though.

"Ahem, your food is getting cold, Sir Mikael," Sybil said in a childish voice, bringing back his attention to dinner.

He smiled as courteously as he could and continued with his meal.

And so the meal went on in a heavy silence.

Selena had her guard up, but the Duke and the stranger named Mikael seemed to be enjoying themselves. Everything might just go peacefully if nobody does anything funny or stupid, she thought. And peaceful it was—dinner, at least, until it was time for dessert.

Alan cleared his throat, getting the attention of everyone at the table. He knew that Mikael was already waiting for him to make the first move.

"Tell me, Mikael, what did you say you want?" He let a little of his aura slip out.

"Another subtle threat. And a different tactic from what I’ve seen so far.

Now, who said humans aren’t interesting? I’m having a blast here," Mikael thought.

"Well, Duke....I did say I want everything. What remains is your reaction. What will you do?"

A smirk tugged at the Duke’s lips as he looked at Mikael, his hazel eyes calculating, sharp, and filled with confidence.

"Do you know what I find interesting, young man?" the Duke mused, swirling the wine in his goblet.

"I think a lot of things are..." Kael took a sip from his cup.

"Quite interesting about tonight." He turned his face to the Duke’s last daughter, noting the slight subconscious hitch in the breath of the rest of the family. There was something a bit..... different about her. Something that brought up rage and revenge in him, although he just shrugged it off. He wasn’t fit to put more issues on his plate, at least for now.

The Duke leaned forward slightly, his aura pressing outward in sheer, undeniable presence and authority. The runes in the room shimmered in reaction to the energy now filling the space.

The Limnor children tensed. Even the Duchess’s fingers twitched a little.

Yet Mikael just sat there, observing the wine in his goblet as though he were fascinated by it. As if the Duke’s presence had no effect whatsoever on him. And truly, it didn’t.

The one effect of being a quasi celestial in Mikael’s case was the fact that the sheer aura of the mortals currently way stronger than him didn’t affect him the way it affected ordinary, low ranked mortals.

"You’d best stop releasing such a presence, Duke," Mikael noted in a half-listening voice.

"Your subordinates are going to die soon." He sighed.

Not that Mikael cared. In fact, an interesting thought came up inside himself.

These auras of the Duke, the Captain from Adrian’s city, Valerian, even the Duchhess, were basically mana or magic. Simply a very poor,diluted version of celestial essence.

That meant he could try activating his void powers to take it for himself! At least some of it, any punishment would come later.

It was more enriching than most cores he had come across. So if he could didn’t have to worry about consuming more cores he had planned to sell to keep up his bravado for the night.

Duke Alen exhaled, almost disappointed. "Most men in your position would be trembling right now."

Kael tilted his head with a smile—a slow and lazy smile.

"Who said anything about me being a man?"

Heavy silence.

Then...

The Duke laughed.

A deep, rich, genuine laugh. He was clearly enjoying this young man’s ways.

He was amused. He then leaned back in his seat.

"Seems you are not like an average mercenary or some desperate noble. And most definitely not a man trying to claw his way up through power,"the Duke said, eyes narrowing in measured understanding. He lifted his goblet in mock toast.

"You are something else entirely, Mikael."

Selena remained wary, however. Her instincts were sharp. This monster was definitely no prince. More like an unpredictable mercenary.

She turned to her husband. Surely, the House Lord of the Limmor Saint Bloodline family was a force to be reckoned with—one who possessed the power to level armies. She had seen him in battles before. But now... now he was doing something a bit more dangerous.

He was being carefree about this abnormality. Left to her, she’d have probably ended his life a while ago and moved on from it.

And the realization had also hit the rest of the family like an arrow to the chest. What was the Father of the House doing?

"Father...?" Evander began.

The Duke then turned his attention to his son.

"Relax, boy. Like I said earlier, if he wanted you dead, I fear you might have already been. Since that hasn’t happened, it shows that he’s not all that hostile."

Mikael was impressed. He had thought of it, not to lie. But he knew that killing one of the Duke’s spawn would most likely have put him into a berserker mood as he had observed from Adrian’s memories on human relationships. And that would have spelt immediate death for anyone in his current state. Not to mention the sharp eyed mother falcon drilling holes into him with her eyes!

Evander gritted his teeth, his face contorted in anger. But he did not argue, because he understood. The white-haired, young man from before them might be able to stand toe-to-toe with his father—which meant he was no joke. And for the first time, he cursed being weak.

* * *

The dimly lit room was filled with the scent of smoke and alcohol and the air, thick with desperation and something even closer to disgust.

Down below, noises of buffed men and the laughter of charming women fused with music and the entire mood was depraved.

She sat against the cold stone wall, knees pulled to her chest, her body trembling from the chill—and something deeper.

Her pale white hair cascaded down like a waterfall of snow, unkempt and tangled. Her red eyes were hollow, two empty pools of emotion, as if they had seen too much to still carry any light.

She could remember a time when they had been brighter—when a man’s smile had filled a house with warmth. When the laughter of a woman whose face she couldn’t remember anymore, reverberated through the walls. Whether it was a memory of a time now past or dream, she couldn’t even tell.

It was all scraps of a life, fragments that slipped through her fingers every time she tried to reach for them. The memories never came in order. They were always disjointed and always left her wondering whether she dreamt of a past life.

Tiny hands gripping the hem of a dress—too large for her. Hiding behind her mother’s skirt as she heard screams from outside. A promise that never came. Her mother’s bloodied corpse at the door. Her face flushed with fear as tears streaked down her face. She had looked back one last time before she disappeared forever, a smile on her face.

The silence that followed afterward. The smell of charred bodies. The thatched roof collapsing and bursting into flames and embers. The dangerous-looking men. The screaming as she was dragged away.

The cold streets of an unfamiliar city.

The weight of her thoughts was unbearable. Each memory felt like a boulder pressing down on her chest, suffocating her.

If only I could remember...

The brothel’s walls weren’t just physical barriers that limited her freedom and will- No, they were chains that kept her trapped in a life she had never chosen, each link tearing hope away from her very soul.

She had been brought here as a child, the daughter of no one, forgotten by the world. All she had left were these unbearable memories of the past. Images that never quite made sense to her as well as feelings that she couldn’t understand.

It was as though the world had left her untouched, a ghost among the living.

She clasped her hands in a fervent prayer, the tears now unwilling to come.

"Dear Goddess, Ruler of Heaven. I once more commend my being into your loving palm. Save this lowly child, Amen."