Here’s something others may not understand—I knew Emma’s trait was broken, So I had to let the goddesses take her. It wasn’t an easy decision, but it was the only way to save her. Her unique trait, Red String of Fate, was damaged in the battle, likely when she used it in a way it was never meant to be used—offensively. When she bound her body and soul to that devastating punch, the strain was too much, and it fractured the connection that tethered her to her physical form.
Even with my [Soul Analyse], there was nothing I could do to fix it. It’s not just a skill; it’s part of who she is—something tied to her very essence. Fixing it was beyond me. That’s why, when the goddesses of Fate and Love offered to take her to their realms to repair it, I had no choice but to trust them.
Arcway had warned me about this moment long ago in my dreams. The God of Dreams, who had shielded me since my rebirth, said I must not stop them. He foresaw a future where letting them take her was the only path where we’d be together again after what was to come. As much as I hated relying on gods, I knew he wasn’t wrong. I couldn’t let my stubbornness be the reason I lost Emma forever.
Still, it didn’t make it easier. The thought of her being out of reach, out of my protection, gnawed at me. Here I was, a man who prided himself on standing strong, forced to admit I wasn’t enough to keep her safe.
What parents and storytellers don’t tell you about love is that it isn’t all rainbows and sunshine. It’s not just endless romance and happy endings. Love is messy, complicated, and sometimes painful. It demands sacrifices—like this one. Love makes you vulnerable, cracks you open, and leaves you raw. But it also makes you stronger because you have something, someone, worth fighting for.
That’s why I let Emma go. Not because I doubted her strength or my own, but because I couldn’t risk losing her completely. If she’d died, even if she returned as a ghost, it wouldn’t have been the same. Her ghostly form would have been a constant reminder of my failure to protect her. Our future, our dreams, would have been ashes.
Now, she’s gone to their realms, where she can’t die while they repair what was broken. I told myself I did this for her—but a part of me knows I also did it for me. Because I couldn’t bear to lose her.
What she won’t see, though, is what I’m about to do next. What I have to do. There will be blood and death, the likes of which this land has never known. And it will all be by my hand.
I allowed myself six hours of restless sleep before rising to set things in motion. With my [Life-Force Heal], I had stabilized all the injured, but the weight of our losses hung over the village like a cloud. Zotherg was gone, Argus was dead, and Emma... Emma was in the hands of the gods.
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Grillo, ever the dependable old dwarf, had already prepared every wagon for departure. Our village would journey to the Dwarven Kingdom of Grannor.
“Grillo, are you sure they’ll let everyone in?” I asked, my voice heavy with doubt.
“Of course, my boy. The king wouldn’t dare offend a mythical-grade smith,” Grillo replied with a grin, puffing up his chest. “The number of us who’ve earned that rank can be counted on one hand.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Then it’s good my ax evolving gave you that skill. Otherwise, we’d be up a creek without a paddle.”
Grillo waved off my concern, holding up the prototype Rune Armor Core we’d made together. The small orange-sized device gleamed in the morning light.
“What we offer is more than enough. This little beauty alone will make the King of Grannor salivate like a kid in a sweet shop.”
The core, though tiny, represented something revolutionary: a self-sustaining energy source for massive war machines. It was a testament to what we could achieve when combining elven and dwarven knowledge, and I trusted Grillo to use it to secure our people’s safety.
The elves, dwarves, and green elves would travel together to Grannor. As for me, my path led elsewhere—to seek the crown, allies, and vengeance.
As I turned to leave, Grillo’s firm hand clasped my shoulder.
“I see you’ve got Argus’s ax,” he said, his tone uncharacteristically gentle.
I nodded. “I do.”
“You tried to summon his soul, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” I admitted, frustration leaking into my voice. “It didn’t work.”
Grillo sighed deeply. “The boy didn’t know, but I do—there’s more of you in that ax than there was of him. You forged it, after all. You poured your heart into that weapon. It’s not your fault, no matter how much you blame yourself.”
“Then whose fault is it?” I snapped, my voice cracking under the weight of my grief.
“You know who,” Grillo replied, his voice soft yet firm. “You know exactly who.”
I clenched my fists, my nails biting into my palms. “Those damned abominable creatures that dare call themselves gods. Their brainwashed followers will wish for a slow death compared to what I’ll bring them.”
Grillo nodded, his eyes heavy with understanding. He didn’t try to stop me as I turned and walked away, the weight of my resolve pressing down with every step.
As I trekked into the wilderness, Arcway’s words lingered in my mind. The gods, he’d told me, were not truly divine. “God” was simply a title bestowed by the system upon a species of immortal, energy-based beings tasked with maintaining aspects of reality. Dreams, love, fate—it didn’t matter what their domain was. Their power was immense, yes, but they were not infallible. They were not invincible.
Only the Creator was truly divine, the one who brought everything into existence from nothing. The other gods were just caretakers, bound by their roles and their limitations. They were beings of unimaginable power—but they could be defied. They could be defeated.
If I could find the Elven Crown and the man known as the Tablet of Creation, I might uncover a way to strike back. A way to change the rules of this rigged game.
I would avenge the friends and family I’d lost. I would protect the people I still had. And one day, I would bring Emma home.
No matter what it took.
