Chapter 134: Divine Rejection
Bone fragments scattered like snow. Myrkul's grip faltered, causing his scythe to tumble through the air, which Mortarion caught.
Voices flooded his mind the moment his fingers closed around the haft. Thousands of souls screamed directly at him. Each voice carried pain and anger that would drive most beings mad.
Mortarion grimaced, his jaw clenched as he exerted iron will against the psychic assault.
"I am Mortarion. I am the inevitable end. Submit."
His words carried force. The screaming voices stopped. His will crushed their rebellion. The scythe stopped shaking and became still in his grasp.
A link formed between the primarch and the weapon. No longer separate, they joined as one destructive will. The scythe had become part of him.
"No! Return my blade!" Myrkul unhinged his skeletal jaw and roared.
"It serves a worthier master now, false god," Mortarion replied. He spread his golden wings and launched himself at the death deity.
The battle ended swiftly. Mortarion's scythe carved through Myrkul's skull. It found the divine spark that burned within like a pilot light. Perturabo and Lorgar coordinated their assault. They shattered the god's arms and legs with hammer blows and staff strikes.
The Lord of Bones fell. His large frame crumbled into ordinary bones. Streams of pure power rose from the scattered remains. They formed into a burning sphere.
Mortarion approached the divine essence. He allowed the death scythe to absorb its power. The weapon shook with what looked like joy. Its bond to its new wielder grew stronger. Its power expanded.
Myrkul's destruction ended Ketheric Thorm's immortality. The death scythe's enhanced edge bisected him permanently. It consumed his soul and prevented any resurrection.
The three netherstones now rested in primarch hands, artefacts waiting to serve humanity.
"A formidable instrument," Mortarion murmured. He examined his prize.
"Powerful weapons demand powerful minds," Raven cautioned from his perch on the Death Lord's shoulder. "Do not let its whispers cloud your judgment."
"I value your counsel," Mortarion replied. Even he recognised wisdom in Master Raven's words.
"What of the elder brain?" Gale asked. He gestured toward the floating monstrosity above them.
"Destroy it," The Emperor commanded. "Use the netherstones. Compel the creature and every thrall under its dominion to self-annihilation."
"Destroy it?" Gale's voice cracked.
The assembled forces stared in shock. Harpers, druids, Tiefling warriors, all watched. An elder brain controlled by Karsus' Crown represented continental power. To obliterate such a weapon seemed wasteful.
The Master of Mankind showed no hesitation.
"Do not consider this plea," a voice whispered into the Emperor's consciousness.
Reality dissolved around Him like morning mist. An infinite starscape replaced it. A mind flayer the size of a world hung suspended in a cosmic void. Its planet-sized cranium pulsed with malevolent intelligence.
"I offer power beyond imagination," the elder brain projected. Its psychic voice echoed through dimensions. "Help me achieve ascension. Together we shall reshape this realm to your vision."
"Deception," Raven materialised beside The Emperor. His form crackled with cosmic awareness. "It seeks only to delay us while using the crown to evolve into a netherbrain, a god among aberrations."
The corvid's sight had pierced the creature's true intentions long ago. Even its capture by the Dead Three's servants had been orchestrated. A calculated gambit to claim Karsus' Crown for itself. The information about the prism, the revelation that led to the Monarch's rebellion, all carefully planted seeds. The elder brain created chaos while pursuing its own apotheosis.
Both schemes crumbled before the Emperor's intervention.
"Destroying me serves no purpose," the elder brain insisted. "You have earned the gods' enmity. I can aid you against them."
"Mere gods," The Emperor replied with indifference. His form began glowing with golden fire. It burned away the illusion.
"Humanity's enemies must be destroyed. No other reason needed."
Psychic flames erupted from His being. They consumed the mental landscape and reduced the elder brain's consciousness to screaming fragments.
He returned to reality. The Emperor gestured to His sons. The three Primarchs raised their netherstones in synchronisation.
"All entities under your dominion will destroy themselves immediately," they commanded in unison.
The elder brain's colossal form convulsed. It fought against the compulsion, but Karsus' Crown's power proved absolute. Psychic energy turned inward. It tore through neural pathways.
Massive tentacles withered and fell like autumn leaves. The nightmare that had terrorised countless civilisations simply ended.
[Fate Node Shift: +5%. Acquired: Netherese Scroll (Volume One), Mystra's Core - Manufacturing Principles and Theory]
The elder brain's death throes faded. Arcane knowledge flooded The Emperor's consciousness like a burst dam. The Netherese Scroll materialised as fifty golden pages inscribed with wisdom beyond mortal comprehension, comprising advanced magical theory.
The ancient Netherese had discovered these scrolls in primordial ruins. They used their knowledge to forge a civilisation of impossible beauty. Gravity-defying architecture soared through their cities. Floating enclaves drifted through the skies like captured stars.
Even such magnificence contained the seeds of its own destruction. At their height, the Netherese grew complacent. Their empire fragmented until the scrolls vanished into legend.
Now, half of that lost wisdom belonged to the Emperor.
"With the second volume in my possession, I could construct something superior to the Weave itself," He mused. "A psychic network to dwarf even Mystra's creation."
The second reward was just as valuable: Mystra's Core, a mystical device capable of channeling raw magic directly from the Weave's foundation. Unlike traditional enchantments that forced arcanists to sacrifice parts of their life force for permanence, this device removed that restriction. It enabled the creation of enduring enchantments without any personal sacrifice.
Such technology had enabled the floating cities of Netheril's golden age.
The Emperor absorbed the scroll's contents and looked at Karsus' Crown with increased understanding. The artifact had fulfilled its purpose. Boasting greater knowledge now, the crown was merely an outdated tool.
His eyes shifted to Gale as he observed the events unfold with amazement.
"This belongs to you," The Emperor said simply. He offered the crown to the wizard. "Merge it with the Netherese Orb within your chest. The fusion will resolve your condition."
Gale's hands trembled as he accepted the artefact. A crown capable of enslaving elder brains, given away like a common trinket.
Zevlor and Jaheira exchanged incredulous glances. Such generosity with divine artifacts exceeded their wildest expectations.
Elminster's expression darkened with shock and anger. The stranger had not merely ignored Mystra's claim to the crown. He had demonstrated complete contempt for divine authority itself.
"The crown belongs to the goddess," Elminster declared. "Return it, and perhaps her wrath might be stayed."
"No," Gale replied quietly. His voice carried newfound resolution. "I have spent my entire life seeking her approval, her attention, her love. Now I see clearly, that path leads only to servitude."
"She and I are finished. From this moment forward, I live for myself alone."
Gale raised the crown above his head. He triggered the Netherese Orb's activation sequence. The artefact dissolved into streams of pure magical energy. It flowed into his body to merge with the orb's volatile matrix.
The fusion began immediately.
Power erupted from Gale's transformed physiology. Divine essence crystallised within his mortal frame. Threads of godhood wove themselves into his being. They ignited the spark of true divinity deep within his soul.
Sacred symbols blazed across his skin in flowing script. His eyes became twin stars of brilliant white fire. From the heavens above came the sound of celestial choirs. Reality itself acknowledged his ascension.
The divine realms materialised overhead, translucent and magnificent. Shafts of pure light descended to bathe the newly born god in radiance.
Every deity in the pantheon observed this moment of transformation. Their expressions ranged from curiosity to concern to outright hostility.
Then Gale spoke words that stunned both mortal and divine observers:
"I reject this ascension. I choose to remain as I am."
The promise of godhood lingered like a discarded crown in the air. Someone who had attained what mortals yearned for for millennia had rejected it like trash.
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[TL:- That's Why is the GOAT. THE GOAT.]
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Also, um, guys, how are you all doing? Hope you're well and happy.
I wanted to ask if you have liked the story so far. Would you mind giving a review on the book page? Honestly, I would really appreciate it.
Thank you.