Life was just one of those things that had a way of dumping horrible events on you. If Damon had to count how many tis he’d ended up in this type of creepy, horrifying situation... it’d be less than a thousand, but definitely more than ten.
Which was a lot for a guy who was just about seventeen.
He really had to give himself a pat on the back for being such a magnet for trouble.
The fact of the matter was, the world of Aetherus was actually a post-apocalyptic dystopia.
So why was there still order?
Well, not many people noticed, but at the end of every epoch, so pieces of shit always ssed things up so bad that the world effectively reset itself.
That’s why guys like Damon had to be born into a world still recovering—surrounded by the ruins of thousands of lost civilizations.
Aetherus was actually quite safe in large settlents. But the smaller the settlent—and the farther it was from the protection of powerful individuals—the more dangerous it beca.
Monsters could pour out of dungeons that just randomly spawned out of nowhere.
So ancient abomination could awaken from a slumber in a forgotten ruin, forcing the monsters of that region to migrate.
So greedy adventurer might touch a sealed relic from Goddess-knows-what era and unleash sothing even worse.
Disasters. Man-made calamities.
The Pillar of Conflict.
Fact was—everything and anything in Aetherus was trying to kill you.
Damon could only groan at the fact that none of them had succeeded yet.
Honestly, he could use the break.
But that was fine. He was a death-seeker. Not to be mistaken for a thrill-seeker—he genuinely sought death.
Though ironically, he was deathless too, so he’d be here a while.
He was pretty sure he was that one guy in the suicide subjugation squad who makes it to the very end despite being the most reckless. Everyone places their bets like:
’This bastard’ll die in a few hours.’
But he lives. Scared. Traumatized. But very much alive.
"Maybe I should take that as a clue and get with Sylvia... Her father would love to kill . Even better if I make it public."
He smiled, picturing Kadelas Moonveil skewering him.
Damon was almost certain he’d live through it. His skill Deathless pretty much guaranteed it—as long as he still wished to die.
In great pain and broken but still alive.
Maybe soone could kill him. But that soone... probably wasn’t Kadelas Moonveil.
Though Damon had figured out one way to die—soone just had to convince him to truly want to live.
Maybe mind control could work? Except... he had a crown that granted immunity to that.
"Maybe a skill that manipulates emotions could work. I don’t have a resistance to that..."
While Damon was off in his head, walking the dark halls like he owned the place, Lilith was actually being cautious. She studied every room they passed, examining the structure.
More importantly, she had learned the Nightlight spell from Damon.
It took a few minutes—it was basic magic for soone like her.
anwhile, Damon just continued walking. Occasionally smiling or nodding his head like he’d just unlocked a masterful plot or stumbled upon buried treasure.
Lilith didn’t even want to ask how he could be so nonchalant in a place like this. But after Lysithara... she wasn’t surprised.
He’d lived in a creepy death zone for months. This was basically a new kind of normal for him.
’He’s... adaptable. I’ll give him that.’
She stopped in front of another statue. She’d seen statues like these scattered all over—each different in their own way.
More importantly, they all bore the sa symbols now adopted by the Temple.
The symbol of doom.
And yet, they were still worshipped. So bore different elental signatures, different divine traits.
She squatted down, narrowing her eyes as she examined them carefully.
"What gods are these...?"
Damon leaned over her shoulder. She could feel his warmth as he placed a hand lightly on her.
It almost made her heart skip a beat.
Lilith’s breath caught for a mont. She hated that she noticed his hand was warm. Too warm.
She shoved the thought aside like everything else she couldn’t control.
"These are probably lesser gods... yeah. I think they’re either dead or asleep. I’m not too clear on that. But apparently, waking them up would an having more battle power against the outsiders."
Lilith’s eyes flickered.
Right—Damon had ntioned sothing like that before. That the so-called lesser gods weren’t real... at least, that was what current experts said.
The lesser gods, they claid, were just powerful spirits worshipped by the goddess races during the Zero Epoch—ignorant of the true creator the Goddess.
Others argued differently.
It wasn’t that the goddess races didn’t know about the Goddess. Rather, they used these lesser gods as interdiaries—proxies to deliver prayers. Because lowly mortals shouldn’t disturb the Creator with their endless desires.
These lesser gods acted as filters. So prayers got passed up the divine chain, others didn’t. And if your prayer wasn’t answered? Well, tough luck—the lesser god didn’t deliver it.
Naturally, this led people to pour offerings and devotion toward these divine ssengers, hoping to earn favor.
Damon listened to her explanation with a bit of disdain.
"Let guess—they beca tyrannical and corrupt, right? Exploiting our ancestors?"
Lilith shrugged.
"I don’t know. It’s just a theory. We don’t even know if they were spirits or not. But since spirits are still around... I’d argue they weren’t spirits."
Damon narrowed his eyes.
"What do you think happened to them? The lesser gods."
She sighed and stepped further into the darkness.
"I don’t know. The Zero Epoch is too far back. But it’s the root of all our problems... I’m sure soone knows. The Temple definitely does. But who are we to get that info?"
Damon frowned.
"That would make sense... the Temple is basically acting just like those lesser gods. Taking wealth, offerings, power—all in the na of the Goddess. The ignorant common man believes going against the Temple is the sa as going against the Goddess who created them. They use faith to control the masses."
Lilith smiled coldly.
"And the masses control the world... even if they don’t know it."
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