THEOS - Chapter 60: The Old Man

Arya with her entourage from the Luminous Sky Society walked towards him and Spiros, and Luke felt like his heart had crawled up his throat. Seeing Nefkha here, inspired a sense of impending doom the likes of which he hadn’t felt since Aeolus almost ate his soul.

But stay calm Luke. The Seed hasn’t offered me a charge yet, and I’ve gotten the warning that I’m in danger a million times by now. Besides, it’s not like he’s just going t–

Host in imminent danger.

Would you like to use a Charge to escape?

Y/N

What. The. Fuck. Seed!?

It stayed silent.

Luke took a deep breath. Then, he cursed Cybele for feeding him a Hero tier giant, and leaving him catatonic for nearly two entire weeks. He didn’t need the points anyway. Not really. He cursed himself for not acting harder on his instinct, and finding some way back to Carim so that he could swear Nefkha to secrecy like he wanted to. Cyzicus would have understood. He could have been teleported there, beat the crap out of the old man, and been back in time for dinner. He was strong enough to do that at least. Hell, he even could have used the mask to look like a completely different person while he went about it. Hell, he probably could have soloed the entire Society as he was now, there was a universe of difference between the quality of Carim’s cultivators and him. They were all mortals anyway, and led by nine below average warriors. It was totally possible. A couple Hero tier talismans, and–

He took a another breath, and hit the no button on his interface. Panicking and getting angry wouldn’t help him. Neither would jumping the gun.

Like the last time he had declined the option to escape, the prompt disappeared but in some recess of his mind, he could still feel the option. Unlike last time, he wasn’t sure there was a way out of this. At the very least, advancing his cultivation wouldn’t help here. Not that he knew how it would work out with the charge should he change his mind. The Seed had told him long ago that some beings could detect the use of the charges, and he would bet anything that there were a lot of them in the crowd right now. There were four gods that he had counted, and likely many more that he hadn’t.

Nefkha took another step forward, and Luke’s resolve to stay calm instantly shattered. He cursed the Seed for giving him the Quest in the first place. Both the one for finishing second, and the one that had directed him to kill the giant.

When he was finished with that, he cursed himself for thinking that Spiros would need help and exposing his identity to him and Arya, and for doing it in such a bumbling and incompetent way. He had been so scared of Hephaestus and trying not to let him, or them for that matter, onto the fact that he had run intentionally, that he hadn’t even sworn the two to secrecy.

Now as they all strode towards him, he felt himself hoping beyond hope, that neither Arya nor Spiros had said anything to anyone and that the Seed was just freaking out. However unlikely that was.

Because surely, they read the clues on his face and his tone that day? Figured out that he was nervous for a reason beyond the fact they caught onto his identity.

Except, he knew even that was wishful thinking. Even if they didn’t tell him anything, there was no guarantee that something wouldn’t slip right now.

Nefkha might not have been a great cultivator, but he was bold and he was shrewd. Luke didn’t really know how long it had taken for him to arrive on Theos, how long it had taken for Arke to start the hunt, nor how long it had taken him to fully possess the body. But if he had a guess… an hour or less.

An hour, by which point Nefkha not only discovered him, but made the determination to not turn him into the all powerful olympian angel, and instead extort him for his help for a matter in the future. All this after poking him a handful of times to make sure of the fact that his method of possession was undetectable.

Honestly, Luke didn’t have the slightest doubt in his mind that he would never, ever, take the same risk. Had he been in Nefkha’s shoes that day and he had found a man revived from the dead knowing how strong the gods were, he would have turned the purported thief in, and slept like a baby afterwards.

Perhaps that could be attributed to the burden of his own knowledge. Luke knew too much about the gods. They were cannibals capable of capturing and eating dead souls. They could create and destroy entire worlds. Some guy who could punch hard and float really couldn’t do anything against that kind of power.

Or perhaps, Nefkha was just insane and he cared nothing for the wrath of the gods or his own life. The man was old, and not just old, but old for a warrior. Meaning he had lived centuries. More than long enough to come to terms with his own dead.

Luke took another breath, and with an effort of will placed a figurative finger on top of the button that would activate the charge. Not pressing it just yet, but maybe it was good to keep his escape route at a hair trigger.

At the very edge of his vision, he saw something move.

“LUKE! You made it!”

“Wh–”

A moment later, a tangle of arms and a pair of pearly white wings slammed into him.

“Ella?” He said, peeling the girl off of him.

“Who else?” She grinned and looked over her shoulder. “Mom, he’s the boy I was talking to you about.”

Oh boy. How is this getting worse.

Spiros snickered beside him. Arya smiled in amusement. Nefkha perked up at hearing his name, and Luke felt his gaze drift between the three of them. Luke could feel the gears spinning in the old warriors head. Len, a step behind all of them, did the same, and then his eyes bored into Luke’s. A moment later he made an O shape with his lips, and traced a circle over his face and mouthed the work ‘mask’.

Luke had never regretted saving someone’s life more than in that moment. Never before had he understood the phrase, no good deed goes unpunished, better.

Before he could process any of that though, a woman with rainbow colored wings forcefully planted herself in between him and Ella. Luke didn’t have to be a genius to recognize that she was Iris, Ella’s mom, and a goddess. One that did not look amused. Considering that her daughter was still attempting to wrap Luke in a hug… he honestly couldn’t even blame her.

“What are you playing at, huh?” She asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

Fuck if I know. Luke thought miserably. And what’s with you playing the protective mother, weren’t you supposed to be a deadbeat or something? And I’m not doing anything, she came up to me. I just gave her some Pizza and had a conversation.

“Peace, sister. You’re scaring the child.” A voice rang out from behind him. One that had haunted him for as long as he had been on Theos.

“Arke.” Luke stumbled back, bumping into Spiros in the way.

The seed once again prompted Luke to use a charge. If using it didn’t mean losing every friend he had made since he arrived on Theos all over again, he would be bashing the button repeatedly. Because it would though, he held off.

This is really bad. Like, terrible. Spiros, Arya, and Len know who I am. Nefkha is in the process of figuring it out. I can see it in his beady fucking eyes. Ella’s mom thinks there’s something going on between me and her daughter when their really isn’t. Arke is glaring daggers at me. Likely not because she knows who I am, but because I freed Heracles.

Alright.

That’s not that bad. At the very least, I don’t think anyone is going to murder me right this instant. And is that… yep!

“ARKE.” Zeus yelled as he marched towards them. Lightning sparkled in his eyes and cackled over his wrist. “I won’t have you bully those under my protection. Especially not when they are competing in this tournament.”

Arke sighed. “I’m doing nothing of the like, my lord. My niece has struck up a friendship with our young friend here. I was merely introducing myself properly. As you’re aware, our last meeting was less than ideal. Afterall, his actions allowed that despicable thief to escape.”

“Your actions were unlawful, and they alone allowed this mystery thief of yours to escape. Had you followed the rules of conduct the council laid forth, perhaps that may have been different.”

Luke risked a glance at Nefkha only to see him staring back at him with a grin on his face.

Yep, he knows.

“Excuse me.” Hephaestus cleared his throat and rose into the air. “I’d hate to interrupt whatever this is, but now that everyone has arrived, as the Game Master of this tournament I’d like to get started.”

“Our apologies.” Zeus nodded towards him. “Please begin.”

“Great. I’d like to begin by announcing the finalists. Arya of Carim, representing the Luminous Sky Society.” On cue, the floor lit up underneath her, sending a beam of light shining into the sky. People clapped politely, and when the crowd quieted down, Hephaestus moved on to the next person on the list. Luke watched as one by one, each of the finalists were called out. “Moros, Son of Ares, representing Sparta. Spiros of House Paris, representing Mysiath. Theseus, Son of Poseidon, representing Atlantis. Luke of Sylcra, representing Cyzicus. Ella Daughter of Iris, representing Iliad. Icarus of Athens, representing the Institute of Advanced Learning, Magnus of…”

Soon after his name was announced, Luke zoned out. He recognized some of the names, while the rest were completely foreign. Any other time, he would be trying to piece together what he knew of each person’s mythologies, but with his greatest foe standing only a few feet behind him, and the only man in the world who knew his secret a few feet in front of him, he found it hard to focus.

He listened with half an ear as podiums erupted out of the ground, and Hephaestus started listing the prizes. Places eighth through sixteen would each get a Saint tier shield personally crafted by the god. Supposedly, because staying alive was the most important qualification for becoming a god. Rank seven would get a pair of Saint tier wings that boosted flight speed to a significant degree. Rank six would get Herald tier gloves that when worn quintupled strength. Rank five would get a robe that massively increased constitution. Rank four and three would receive a customized manual made personally for them with instructions on how to increase their Arcana all the way through to the Saint tier. Rank two, would get a deployable pocket dimension, equipped with its own garden and capable of hiding itself from anyone under the god tier.

“And finally, the winner of the tournament will receive–”

“Wait!” Spiros yelled, interrupting the god. “If I win, can I pick my own prize?”

“It’s always something.” Hephaestus mumbled under his breath. “What do you want?”

“I want to marry someone, and I was hoping you could help me.”

“Sorry kid. I won’t force someone to marry you.” Hephaestus rejected the proposal out of hand. “As I was saying, the prize for first place is–

“Now wait a minute.” Zeus suddenly spoke up. “Let’s not dismiss this without due consideration. Hephaestus is of course right, in that we won’t force someone to marry you, Spiros. If you do win however, I shall grant you this as a favo. If she, or he is willing, I will arrange a meeting and put in a good word. Then, if and only if, everything goes well and all parties are in agreement, I will personally officiate your wedding. Nothing more.”

“That’s more than enough. Thank you!” Spiros agreed right away. “Her name is Helen, she’s your daughter.” After dropping that bombshell, he bowed down to the King of the Gods.

The room was already silent, but suddenly, the silence seemed deafening as they all waited for Zeus to respond.

To his credit, Zeus remained calm. Then stiff as a board, he turned to a seemingly random section of the stage. “Helen. If this young man were to win this tournament, would you agree to a meeting with him knowing his intention to wed you.”

The crowd, still silent, parted, revealing a woman who appeared to be in her early twenties holding a half eaten pastry. Luke watched in stunned silence as she finished chewing, swallowed, and then wiped the crumbs off her face.

“Sure. Spiros is a good kid, a little young but if he’s okay waiting ten… no, twenty years, then I don’t see a problem.” She said slowly.

“That’s fine with me.” Spiros grinned.

“Consider the matter settled then. If you win the tournament, you can have a conversation with her in twenty years and I will be sure to give you my personal endorsement. Hephaestus, as you were.”

“Wait a minute! That’s my wife.” Someone yelled. “Helen! You’re my wife. What do you mean there’s no problem?”

What the fuck is going on? Like… seriously.

Next to him, Ella looked to her mother. “Is this normal?”

Iris sighed. “Yes. Yes it is.”