Noah stepped out of the small pre-fab house and immediately met another massive Treant. This one wasn't plowing; it was standing sentinel, its enormous, gnarled hand extended down like a slow-moving elevator. The wood was dark and rich, moss growing thick in the crevices of its knuckles.
Noah looked up at the patient, silent giant, shook his head, and let out a soft sigh. "Obviously, Mom is absolutely loving this whole living mythology thing," he muttered to himself.
He stepped onto the Treant's flat palm and crossed his arms, waiting. The giant began to move, turning slowly towards a sprawling structure in the distance—a colossal, gazebo-like tree that had been magically grown into a meeting place. The young Dryad appeared behind him, her eyes like polished amber.
"Is it time for that again?" Noah asked the Dryad, indicating the training grounds with his chin. "It seems too early in the morning for me to be training."
"Yes, Sir Noah," Misha said, her voice like rustling leaves. "Lady Iris will be out to town this afternoon with her friends."
"Alright, she beat me to it," Noah said, frowning slightly. "I was supposed to go to the UNPA today to attend some class sessions. But that's fine, I guess. My day of freedom is now canceled." The Dryad didn't react, simply watching him with silent composure.
The Treant's hand gently lowered, becoming a temporary wooden bridge to the gazebo. Noah's mother, Lanilla, greeted him warmly. She looked radiant, dressed in simple linen that somehow looked divine, her aura giving her the healthy glow of a preserved forest.
"Hey honey, I'm sorry if it's too early for your training," she said, her smile genuine. "Lady Demeter and I are going out. I might not be home until seven."
Noah glanced pointedly at a small, beautiful bird perched calmly on the branch railing beside her. "Don't you think Demeter is too busy of a goddess to be your friend, Mom? Last week she was stabilizing the mana flow in the Mediterranean."
Lanilla chuckled, placing a hand on his arm. "Don't be like that, Lewis is also a friend of Lord Hephaestus. Everyone can be everyone's friend. Besides, we're just two mothers going out to have fun and discuss farming techniques. Even goddesses need a girls' day."
"Right. I was going to the city to attend some class sessions today," Noah admitted, trying to sound put-upon, "but that's fine, I guess."
"Thank you, honey. Be careful, though. There might be more Goblins than usual today, since they started running away from me."
Noah laughed, a genuine, chest-deep sound. "Yeah? I'd be scared too if I got chased by an army of psycho Dryads and Treants."
Lanilla held out her hand, and instantly, a small, vibrant branch extended from the wood of the gazebo railing. It grew, twisted, and hardened in a puff of green mana, solidifying into a perfectly balanced wooden staff. "Here you go, honey."
Noah sighed, scratching his head with his free hand as he took the staff. The wood felt rough, dense, and oddly conductive. "Let's get this started." He started walking toward the winding wooden staircase that led down to the clearing.
"Honey, guns aren't allowed, you know," Lanilla said gently.
Noah stopped, scratching his head again. He pulled a compact Glock-18—a relic of pre-Rift warfare—from his side-pocket and handed it over. "Well, how am I gonna defend myself if those bastards start coming at me in groups of three? The staff is only good for one at a time."
Lanilla smiled, tucking the firearm into a pocket woven into her dress. "Misha here will watch over you." She gestured toward the Dryad. "Besides, you're supposed to push yourself to the limits. Who knows? Maybe you'll awaken this time if you have to fight for your life."
Noah scoffed as he quickly stripped off his top shirt, revealing a torso cut and hardened through two decades of physical labor and desperate training. "Heh. I'll take your word for it, Mom." He walked down the staircase, the staff already feeling light and familiar in his grip.
Lanilla simply gestured again, and a branch grew instantly from the railing, shaping itself into a small table and two chairs. She sat down, and the bird that Noah had noticed flew from the railing to the opposite chair. A shimmering distortion of light and energy flowed around it, and the bird transformed into a cloaked female figure. The figure removed her hood, revealing beautiful, slightly curly blonde hair and eyes that glowed faintly with primordial energy. It was Demeter.
"Lanilla, I've received the answers from the Sisters of Fate inquiries about your son," Demeter said, her voice carrying the deep resonance of the earth.
Lanilla instantly brightened, leaning forward. "Really? I wasn't really expecting anything, because of your busy schedule, but thank you for hearing my request, Lady Demeter. I know they rarely deal with mortals."
"It's no problem, Lanilla. As a fellow mother graced with nature herself, we should help each other," Demeter replied kindly. "Regarding about your son, it would seem, Fate can't see anything about him."
Lanilla's face tightened with worry. "What does that mean, Lady Demeter? Is he going to—?"
"No, Lanilla, it's not like that," Demeter cut in quickly. "If the Sisters of Fate can't see anything about Noah, it doesn't mean he's going to die. It just means his thread is unspun. It's the same strange case as the one that surrounds Iacchus—no one can read their ultimate destiny in advance."
Lanilla exhaled, calming slightly.
Demeter thinking out loud. "I'm just interested about the fact that even the Sisters of Fate, who weave the existence of every god and mortal, can't see anything about Noah. Normally, they could see anyone's fate in advance. Though that would change anytime because of certain variables."
Demeter's glowing eyes stared down into the clearing where Noah had just engaged two Goblins. "It must mean that the Towers of Ascendance have a different, unknown purpose for him. A purpose that bypasses the normal flow of destiny."
Down in the clearing, Noah was already moving with the brutal efficiency of an un-Awakened professional.
Noah spun his staff. The force of the impact deflected the first Goblin's crudely made spear toward his right side, throwing the monster off balance. He countered instantly with a left-handed swing, the dense wood connecting with the Goblin's nape with a sharp crack.
The second Goblin launched itself with a rusty axe, a high-pitched snarl escaping its throat. Noah sidestepped, the axe narrowly missing him, and landed on his feet. Using the momentum, he released a horizontal downward swing that shattered the second Goblin's shield. Before the creature could recover, the first Goblin lunged again with its spear. Noah leaned back, grabbing the spear mid-lunge and spinning, using the spear as a lever to trip the second Goblin while simultaneously driving the spear into the first Goblin's face.
Demeter, sipping a cup of tea that Lanilla had conjured, nodded approvingly. "Your son has an amazing battle sense, Lanilla. Pure instinct and mastery of his physical form."
Lanilla smiled, her pride obvious. "Thank you, Lady Demeter. He must have inherited my husband's genes."
Demeter raised an eyebrow. "I didn't know Lewis could fight that well, given his focus on the forge."
Lanilla chuckled. "He doesn't. He just likes to beat someone up. Noah's technique is his own."
Demeter smiled back. "That goes for you, Lanilla. I've been quite influenced by your rare nature. The ease with which you adapt to this chaotic world."
Lanilla blushed slightly. "Oh, please don't, Lady Demeter. I'm just a mere mortal."
Demeter scoffed. "So are we, Lanilla. Everyone dies, eventually. We're still made of flesh, made of mana. No one truly escapes entropy, and the Reset Protocol proves that. Don't belittle yourself. We may be powerful, but I've seen what your people can do."
Demeter recalled seeing a grainy, preserved footage reel of the Tsar Bomba—a power that surpassed Apollo's light in a single blast. "It's scary to think that your civilization created a world-ending power far beyond anything our divine pantheons possessed, and yet you still managed to live relatively peacefully for decades. Modern civilization just defines the word 'power' differently. During our time, we entertained ourselves with war and slaughter. It may sound barbaric, but experiencing thousands of years of life, one would get bored eventually. Even Hermes is now cooped up in his room playing computer games. Many gods love this new world. I would get why everyone prefers peace over war. Though the same can't be said for the greedy, power-hungry ones."