Approximately 10 years and 9 months ago

  Calling the room Akkiev was sitting in ‘luxurious’ would have been the understatement of the millennium. Precious metals had been treated as basic building materials by the builders, and even the flooring was full of complex geometrical patterns made with gold inlays and precious gemstones. Though considering where he was sitting, that level of luxury was no surprise. Gods were not known for being frugal souls, after all.

  Akkiev was not at the peak of divinity by any means. While other gods sitting in the room were at the apex of their chosen field, many having mastered powerful magics or martial styles, the lackadaisical elf had chosen a different path. He was the mighty god of running away, a fact the others in their prestigious circle had been laughing at for the past centuries.

  It wasn’t all bad though. Being the god of running away meant that he was really, really good at running away. Reaching godhood essentially meant that you were the absolute best at your chosen discipline, even the world itself considering you worthy of divinity. Akkiev had not been caught once in his own life, making the lesser god possibly the slipperiest motherfucker in existence. In his humble opinion if someone was worthy of divinity, it was him.

  The lesser god sat in the south corner of the hall of divinity, occupying the same area as many others of his echelon. They had been divided by their underlying concepts, weaker and esoteric ones relegated to the south side of the hall. That made the area a bit cramped with hundreds, if not thousands, of gods just hanging around.

  The number of gods might’ve seemed ridiculous to mortal eyes, but it made total sense to Akkiev. To become a god, one just needed to be diamond rank and achieve absolute command over their chosen concept. This was of course incredibly difficult if one wanted to be a god of fire or ice, as the current gods would be hard to overthrow. In Akkiev’s opinion, a prospect just needed to pick a smaller concept and run with that—pun intended.

  Akkiev himself had ascended many millennia ago, and of course understood that it was significantly harder nowadays. Most concepts that could ever reasonably lead to divinity had already been filled, and most gods and goddesses had had millennia, or even eons, to hone their skills. Overthrowing even the lowliest god—someone like Ro’Ibos, the god of herbal tea—would be exceedingly difficult when he had made and perfected that herbal tea for all of his life. Good luck with that, mortal brats…

  One could ask why a great and mighty god like Akkiev was hanging around the halls of divinity when he could be doing much more important things elsewhere. The answer was simple: A bigger fish had ordered him to come. Apparently, Akkiev hadn’t been the only god invited either, as basically every god of Aldun was attending the hall.

  That didn’t happen often… Not often at all.

  So he was here, lounging around and just waiting for something to happen. The dark haired elf sat on a luxurious leather chair, picking his teeth with a pick made out of an iridescent metal. The abyssal beast he had just dined on had been unfortunately stringy meat. I’ll have to move back to divine fare soon. I’ll just need a good heist first, so that I can afford the cooking gods’ services. A really good heist…

  He didn’t know what the room full of gods was waiting for, but it probably wouldn’t be anything that important. Whatever happened, Akkiev could just run away and come back after the action. Really, only a full scale divine war…

  “A war is coming!” a booming voice rang across the massive hall.

  In his shock, Akkiev dropped his toothpick. The sharp object dropped straight through the floor and continued its rapid descent until even he couldn’t see it anymore.

  Fuck, that was a good toothpick! No matter, it will probably be lost in the void or something. It’s not like it was a divine object or anything… Wait, was it?

  Akkiev’s ruminations were interrupted by the continuing speech. Apparently, Aldun’s divine pantheon was going to war, and the almighty god of running away was drafted too.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  He had lost his toothpick and the day was ruined. Truly, the divine being was the most unfortunate soul in the whole wide world…

  The small iridescent object streaked through the void of space, ignoring every obstacle in its way. Celestial objects, magical phenomena and everything in between was pierced with absolute ease. By all reasonable estimations, Akkiev’s presumption that the object would be lost in the void was the most probable outcome. Space was massive, after all, and actually stopping the toothpick’s flight would have been practically impossible. Only another divine object, a sufficiently aware diamond ranker, or a direct impact against a soul could stop the object.

  However, against all the odds, the toothpick was falling on course to hit a lone planet nestled in the vast nothingness of space. Not to worry, even then the most likely outcome would be that the toothpick flew straight through, leaving a tiny hole through the celestial object. That could have some small effects on the ambient mana, but honestly who cared? As long as the divine item didn’t remain on the planet, everything would be fine.

  The tiny toothpick flew through the void for a long time. It pierced barren asteroids, white hot stars and even a small black hole, but no mortal force could stop it. Its flight was as steady as the passage of time, and eventually, it reached its final destination. A tiny streak of bright light streaked across the night sky, but no impact came. The ground was not pierced open, nor was there a diamond ranker to claim it for themselves.

  Instead, a countryside village awoke to the cry of a small child. The three-year-old boy had crawled out of the window of his room, trying to catch a star in the night sky. In some ways, the boy’s wish had come true.

  This would have been problematic enough, as the toothpick of Akkiev—a divine object—had hit a child. The boy would most likely live a short life of constant pain and suffering. Nothing could be done. The soul could not be healed, that much was sure.

  The boy’s fate was sad, but the more pressing issue was the aura signature the divine object had left in its wake.

  No less than three diamond rankers sensed the passing aura, each one rising from their places of work or rest in an instant. Seven more noticed the fall but could only curse their luck. The three closest would reach it in seconds, so the others were left without even a chance of getting the treasure. Perhaps they would have better luck next time. Time was all they had, after all.

  The first of the three arrived in a single second. His distance to the town was the longest by far, but the man made of light moved faster than his peers. However, when he arrived, the wizened man sensed nothing. The light mage conducted every scan he could conduct in such a short time, but he could not stay for long. The others were coming, and he could not stay any longer. The empty-handed emperor left with a frustrated growl and a flash of light.

  As a parting gift, the man of light left the village in flames, his mere presence enough to set the dry wood aflame. Needless to say, the powerless people living in the farming village near the city of Lyndale were as weak against the intense light as the wooden houses…

  The two others arrived soon after, flying above the burning village only seconds after the emperor’s retreat. Both of them knew what that meant: Their enemy had acquired a divine treasure or there was none to claim. Either way, they were too late, and didn’t take the news well.

  The two diamond rankers were ostensibly allies, so they didn’t attack each other directly. The showcases of raw conceptual power were more a sign that they were displeased than actual targeted attacks.

  To the innocent villagers already dying because of the raging fires, it was all the same. To the common villager, at iron or bronze rank at most, gravity exceeding the one on the sun’s surface meant instant death, and many villagers perished to the hand of their own king. Perhaps fortunately, the boy’s parents had already died in the raging fires. He wouldn’t have to grow up blaming his own king for his parents’ demise…

  The village had been reduced to smoldering rubble, every single inhabitant dead… except for one. Even the unnatural cold originating from the third diamond ranker didn’t bother the three-year-old boy. The smallest ounce of divinity, dissipating by the second, had been enough to protect him, leaving the boy spotless but unconscious.

  The king and the old woman departed wordlessly in different directions—the king back to the palace and the woman to the north—leaving a flattened town behind them. Both of them were too irate to notice the child curled up at the very edge of his hometown. Perhaps if one of them had noticed, the annals of history would tell a different story.

  But they didn’t.

  Two days later, a patrolling adventuring party found the remains of a village they knew was supposed to be there and a boy that had miraculously survived. After trying to ask the child what happened, the good men and women took him to the orphanage, reporting the incident to the adventurer guild of the nearest city, Lyndale.

  The only things they managed to glean from the child were a ridiculous story about a man made of light, and his first name.

  Valar.