The dinsional shift felt like being dragged through a sea of crushed glass. When the golden light shattered, Ren Hanshin’s boots hit a floor made of starlight. He slowly opened his eyes. He was no longer in Tokyo. He was standing in a hall so large it defied human comprehension.
Skewering pillars of marble stretched upwards, disappearing into a ceiling that was nothing but a vortex of a living galaxy. Hovering in the air were thousands of golden tables, laden with food and wine that shimred with divine mana.
[System Notice: You have entered the Divine Neutral Zone.]
[Current Location: The Hall of Sovereigns.]
[Combat is strictly prohibited. Violation will result in imdiate soul obliteration.]
Ren stood in the back of the hall, the Embrace of the Weaver coat resting on his shoulders. The room was filled with the top one hundred Avatars on Earth. They were the Guild Masters, the national heroes, the elite S-Rank hunters who ruled the mortal world. They wore shining platinum armor, robes woven from starlight, and carried weapons that humd with legendary power, but what made the hall truly terrifying wasn’t the humans. It was the presence behind them.
Looming high above the Avatars, there were the ethereal projections of the Sovereign Gods. Ren saw a terrifying, golden figure emitting light, the God of Light. In another corner, a towering giant armored in blood stained iron, the God of War.
"Look. Over there." The whispers started almost imdiately.
Heads turned. Elite Avatars, veterans of countless S-Rank dungeons, stopped drinking and stared at the young man standing alone near the entrance. They looked at his dark clothes, overshadowed only by the terrifying crimson coat he wore.
"Is that him? The anomaly from Tokyo?"
"He has no Guild badge, and I can’t feel his mana at all. Is he really an S-Rank?"
"Idiot, he’s suppressing it. That’s the monster who killed Kaelen and soloed the Blood Moon Labyrinth in two hours."
Ren ignored the whispers. Thanks to Jubei’s training, his ’Aura Suppression (Advanced)’ passive skill was masking his terrifying mana core. To them, he looked like a ghost.
Suddenly, the temperature in the hall plumted. A suffocating pressure descended onto Ren. The galactic ceiling above him darkened, whirling with purple mana. A pair of gigantic, furious purple eyes opened in the starry sky, glaring down at him with enough hatred to vaporize a city.
[Warning: The God of Magic is projecting lethal hostility toward you.]
"You..." the voice echoed, vibrating within the minds of everyone in the hall. "The rat who stole my Labyrinth. You dare to show your face here?"
The elite avatars quickly backed away from Ren, not wanting to be caught in the crossfire of a Sovereign’s wrath. Ren didn’t flinch. He looked straight up into the giant purple eyes of the God of Magic. He rembered the brand on his chest. He belonged to a Sovereign, and he refused to cower before a lesser one.
Before the God of Magic could exert any physical pressure, the entire Hall of Sovereigns shuddered. The golden system screens in the air shattered, replaced by a crimson light. The purple mana in the sky was torn apart, as if an invisible claw had ripped the sky of the dinsion itself.
[The God of Fate has forcefully breached the Neutral Zone.]
[God of Fate]: Keep your filthy eyes off my King, you pathetic trickster.
The crimson light swallowed Ren. The murmurs of the Avatars and the glaring eyes of the God of Magic vanished. When the light faded, Ren was no longer in the grand banquet hall.
He was in a small quiet room. There were no marble pillars or galaxies. The entire room, the floor, the walls, the ceiling was woven from millions of glimring crimson threads. It looked like the inside of a living, beating heart.
[System Notice: You have been summoned to the private domain of your Sponsor.]
[Location: The Hall of Strings.]
"You made wait so long, my sweet Ren."
The voice didn’t co from a chat box. It was spoken aloud. It was a voice so beautiful, so lodious, that it ached to hear it. It sounded like a lullaby and a death sentence woven into one. Ren turned around.
Standing ten feet away was a woman. She was not a massive, ethereal projection. She had manifested into a human-sized vessel. She wore a wavering dress made of the sa crimson silk as Ren’s coat. Her skin was as pale as moonlight, flawless. Long, cascading silver hair flowed down her back, weaving seamlessly into the crimson threads of the room around her. But her eyes were what froze Ren’s blood. They were shining crimson. They stared at him with an intensity that was utterly inhuman, suffocating obsession.
She took a step forward, her bare feet making no sound on the thread floor. Ren’s instincts, honed by Jubei to detect killing intent, scread at him to run. The sheer power contained in her small form was enough to shatter planets. If she wanted to, she could erase him with a single blink. But he couldn’t move, her gaze firmly looking at his muscles.
She walked right up to him. She was shorter than him, forcing her to look up slightly. She reached out a pale hand and gently rested her fingertips against his chest, right over the spot where she had branded him hours ago.
"My beautiful anomaly," the God of Fate whispered, her crimson eyes skimming every inch of his face. "You look so tired. Did the teleportation hurt you?"
"I’m fine," Ren said, his voice sounding rough and foreign in the quiet room.
He looked down at her. He had to ask the question that had been burning in his mind since the day he nearly died in the A-Rank dungeon. The question that defined his nightmare.
"Why ?" Ren asked, keeping his voice level.
The Goddess tilted her head, her silver hair spilling over her shoulder. "Why you?"
"I was an F-Rank porter," Ren said, his crimson eyes darting onto hers. "I had no talent. I had no wealth. Six other Gods looked at my channel when I was bleeding to death, and they left. But you stayed. You gave Mythic weapons. You gave millions of points. You threaten to burn down cities for ."
Ren gulped, the heavy air of the domain pressing against his lungs. "Why are you so obsessed with a piece of trash?"
The God of Fate’s smile faded. A look of profound sadness flashed in her eyes, replaced by a dark possessiveness. She stepped closer, closing the distance. She wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing her face against his chest. Ren went rigid, but he didn’t push her away. He knew better.
"The other gods are blind," she whispered, her voice vibrating against his chest. "They only see power. They look at mortals and see numbers in strength, agility, mana. They see tools."
She slowly looked up at him. "But I am the Weaver. I do not see numbers. I see the threads of destiny."
She raised her hand, her fingertips tracing the line of his jaw.
"For millions of years, I have watched the universe. It is so boring, Ren. Everything is scripted. I look at a king, and I already know the day he will be poisoned. I look at a hero, and I know which monster will tear his throat out. Everyone follows the path laid out for them. Everyone is a puppet."
Her crimson eyes began to shine brighter, the obsession in them burning like a wildfire.
"When you were lying on the floor of that dungeon, bleeding out... I looked at your thread. Your destiny value was zero. The script said you were going to die in ten seconds. You were ant to be a forgotten bastard in Ryuichi’s story."
She leaned in, her lips hovering inches from his ear. "But then... you got angry."
Ren’s breath hitched. He rembered the pure hatred he had felt for Ryuichi, for the Guilds, for the world that had treated him like waste.
"Your soul scread," the Goddess whispered. "Your sheer willpower, your hatred for your own weakness... it made the impossible possible. Your soul gripped the thread of your destiny, and it snapped it."
She pulled back slightly, looking at him with an expression of worship. "For a fraction of a second, before you even accepted my contract, you defied the script of the universe. You stepped off the path. To the other gods, you were just a dying F-Rank. But to ? You were the only free creature in existence. You were a glitch in my boring tapestry."
She stroked his cheek, her touch freezing cold. "I don’t want a puppet, Ren. I want the anomaly. I want the only man who can cut destiny itself."
Her smile returned, sharp and beautiful. "But a free soul is dangerous. It might wander away. It might look at other people. That is why I must hold you so tightly. That is why I give you everything. I will give you the power to conquer the universe, as long as you conquer it for ."
Ren stared at her. The explanation was horrifyingly logical. She didn’t love him for his looks or his personality. She loved him because his existence entertained her in an eternal, boring cosmos. He was her favorite toy, the one toy that could move on its own, so long as it stayed inside her toy box.
"The Sovereign’s Draft is coming," the God of Fate said, her tone changing into seriousness. She let go of his waist and stepped back.
"The God of Magic, the God of War... they know you are an anomaly now. They cannot kill you here in the Neutral Zone, but the draft is different. It is a war. They will send their chosen avatars to hunt you down and erase you."
[System Notice: The God of Fate has issued a Main Scenario Quest!]
[Quest Title: The Weaver’s Champion]
[Objective: Survive the Sovereign’s Draft and eliminate the Avatars of the hostile gods.]
[Reward: The Path to Ascension (Demigod Status).]
"I know," Ren said, his grip tightening. "I’ll kill them."
"You must," she whispered, the red threads of the room beginning to swirl around her body, preparing to send him back.
"Because if you die, Ren..." The Goddess’s crimson eyes narrowed, and a wave of killing intent so it made the dinsion tremble washed over him. "If anyone else takes your life... I will unweave the fabric of this dinsion. I will pull the stars out of the sky and slaughter every living thing on Earth, just to punish them for touching what is mine."
The crimson light flashed blindly. Ren’s vision went white. When he opened his eyes, he was back in the Hall of Sovereigns. The Avatars were still drinking. The giant projections of the gods were still looming. Only a second had passed in real ti, but Ren Hanshin felt different. He looked down at his hands, understanding the rules of the ga now. He wasn’t just fighting for his life, or for revenge anymore.
He was fighting to prevent a psychotic goddess from destroying the world in a fit of grief. He had two months to prepare for the Draft. He had to perfect Jubei’s martial arts, master his Mana Core, and find a way to ascend. He had to beco a God himself, because that was the only way to stand equal to his patron. Ren turned his back on the glowing projections of the hostile gods, his crimson eyes flashing.
’Let them co,’ he thought.
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