Throne of Gods | By Nero

Arthur sat behind his desk, surrounded by an imposing array of tomes and maps, each marked with notes and sketches from his extensive explorations. The ship groaned and rocked with the steady rhythm of the waves, but Arthur, accustomed to the sea's motion after years aboard, felt nothing. The dim glow of a single oil lamp cast flickering shadows across the cabin's walls. His gaze drifted to a yellowed piece of parchment depicting long, coiling tentacles emerging from the deep—a chilling clue gathered from three islands he had visited in the past year. Yet, the creature's body and head remained a mystery.

A sharp knock at the cabin door snapped him from his thoughts, echoing through the room.

"Come in," Arthur commanded, his voice steady and precise.

The door swung open, and Laid Yon, Arthur's co-captain, stepped inside hurriedly. Years of relentless exposure to the harsh sun had weathered his skin into a leathery texture, while the lone eye not concealed beneath a battered eyepatch gleamed with a sharp, urgent intensity. Beads of sweat traced lines down his forehead.

"Captain, the scouting party's boat has returned," Laid reported, a tremor betraying the tension in his voice.

"And?" Arthur's eyes narrowed as he leaned forward, his tone unyielding.

"It's empty, sir," Laid whispered, fear breaking through his attempt at composure.

Arthur's gaze hardened. Without hesitation, he stood and strode out to the deck, with Laid trailing behind him. The crew, a mix of seasoned sailors and fresh recruits, fell silent as their captain approached, their murmurs stilled by a palpable sense of unease. The scent of salt and oil from the ship's lanterns hung in the cool sea air.

"Make way," Arthur ordered.

At the ship's edge, he peered down at the small, empty vessel bobbing below, its tether creaking with the movement of the waves. Raising his hand, he murmured an incantation. A soft, yellow light unfurled from his palm, cascading over the boat and casting it in an otherworldly glow. The light shimmered momentarily but yielded no revelations—no signs of life, no evidence of struggle. It was a purification spell meant to dispel any lurking evil.

Arthur's brows drew together, frustration simmering as a cold breeze ruffled his coat.

"I'm going down," he said, his voice leaving no room for argument.

But, Captain—" Laid started, but the sharpness in Arthur's gaze cut him off mid-sentence. "Aye, aye, Captain," he muttered, retreating with a worried etched across his face. 

Arthur vaulted over the ship's side, using telekinesis to slow his descent and land soundlessly on the deck. The cool night air swept through his short golden hair, blending with the dark blue ocean below—a shade that matched his own deep blue eyes. His once-celebrated, handsome face, which often drew unwanted attention, now looked tense and uncertain. As he surveyed the boat, each creak of wood under his boots seemed amplified in the quiet night, blending with the rhythmic lapping of waves against the hull. Steeling himself, he began to prepare a spell—Lost Memory. As an A3-ranked Diviner, he knew it would let him glimpse the boat's final moments, revealing the recent past that lingered faintly in the air around him. 

The air grew cold and crackled with energy as a ghostly scene flickered to life before him.

Three men sat on the small boat. One held a lantern at the bow, casting a shaky, golden light over the dark waters, while the other two rowed in a rhythmic but weary motion.

"Do you see anything?" the man at the stern called out, his voice strained with both fatigue and the weight of anticipation.

"No… nothing," the lantern bearer replied, eyes squinting into the dense, rolling fog.

"We've searched enough; we should head back," the second man at the stern suggested. When no response came from the lantern holder, he frowned and leaned forward. "Hey, are you alright?"

The rowing ceased as both men in the back exchanged uneasy glances. The second man stood up, his balance wavering as the boat rocked beneath him, and reached out to touch the lantern bearer's shoulder. The moment his fingers brushed against the man's damp coat, the figure began to dissolve. Flesh and bone liquefied into a dark, oozing substance that dripped down his arm.

He recoiled, stumbling back with a scream. The other rower's face twisted in horror as he saw the lantern bearer's skin slough off in glistening, dark strings. He turned to look at his own trembling hands, which were now bubbling and melting into a viscous sludge.

"Aaaaaa…!" His scream tore through the night, piercing the silence.

He turned desperately to his friend, eyes wide with terror. "Help me! Please!"

But before he could reach out, the other man, driven mad with fear, threw himself overboard, disappearing into the cold, black waves.

The vision faded, leaving only the spectral silence of the boat and the chill that clung to Arthur's skin.

Arthur stood silently for a few seconds, lost in thought. Then, with a quick surge of telekinesis, he floated back onto the ship's deck. Glancing around at the crew, he saw their faces tense with fear and worry.

"We're returning to the last island," he announced.

Relief replaced the fear in their expressions, and everyone hurried to their posts, grateful for the change in orders. Liad, Arthur's trusted aide, followed him closely to his cabin. Once Arthur settled into his chair, Liad finally mustered the courage to ask.

"Sir, what's the plan?"

"For now, we head back to the last island. Once we're there, I'll decide our next steps," Arthur replied calmly. "And remember, it's Sunday. I don't want anyone disturbing me in my cabin today."

"Understood, sir," Liad replied, giving a respectful nod before slipping out.

Arthur leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, letting the quiet of the cabin settle over him.

…

After a few moments, Arthur found himself in a strange place, enveloped in swirling white mist and patches of darkness. He sat in a stone chair, its cool rough surface grounding him in the eerie setting. As he looked around, he saw several other figures seated around him, each partially obscured by shadows yet unmistakable. He recognized them all by their code names, allies bound by secrecy.

"Welcome, my friends, to another conclave of our order," a voice intoned resonating through the mist, it was Mr. sage. "Since no promises were left unresolved from our last meeting, we can proceed directly to the heart of our agenda."

Ms. Shadow began, her voice calm yet filled with urgency.

"The latest reports indicate that the combined forces of the Northern Kingdom and the Magic Empire are unable to advance any further into the darkness. It's as if the darkness itself is favoring the group on the other side. The number of A-rank beasts there has increased rapidly."

Mr. Crow leaned forward. "And what of the Kingdom of Light? Have they committed any resources?"

Ms. Shadow nodded slightly. "Following negotiations with the Pope, they agreed to send a group, including three high-ranking paladins. But if they're hoping to push deeper into that territory, they'll need an S-rank at the very least."

Mr. Immortal scoffed, a smirk flickering on his face. "There are only a handful of S-ranks in each kingdom, and dispatching one could leave them vulnerable to an attack from the other kingdoms. None of them would risk it."

"And failing to dispatch one could lead to the world's destruction," Mr. King said, his voice grave, each word weighted with urgency.

"Maybe we should all just run to the ocean and hide," Mr. Immortal quipped, his tone laced with mocking nonchalance. He turned to Arthur, a sly grin playing on his lips. "Now that the stakes have been laid bare, tell us, Mr. Light—what news do you bring from the sea? Have you found this fabled beast?"

Arthur drew in a deep breath, suppressing the surge of irritation that always flared when dealing with Mr. Immortal. The man's flippant attitude grated on him.

"Two of our scouting parties never returned," Arthur said, his voice steady, though a hint of bitterness lingered. "Based on the evidence I recovered, I estimate that Osara, whatever it truly is, ranks as an S-class threat."

Mr. Immortal raised an eyebrow, a smirk still hovering on his face. "Are you even sure this creature exists? Your so-called 'evidence' came from a morlock cave, and out there, the sea itself can claim a C-rank man's life with ease."

Arthur's jaw tightened. The way Mr. Immortal dismissed the deaths of his men so callously set his blood boiling. He fixed the man with a cold stare.

"That's correct, Mr. Immortal. I found the information in a morlock cave. But unlike certain intelligent beings who find amusement in doubt, morlocks have no need for deceit."

"So, what is this information? Can you share it with us? I'm willing to pay," Mr. Crow interjected, unfazed by the tension crackling between Arthur and Mr. Immortal.

Arthur's eyes shifted to Mr. Crow, considering him for a moment before responding. "There's no need. I'll share everything I know."

He straightened himself in his chair, taking a deep breath before continuing.

"After our last expedition, we discovered that beyond the farthest island, no matter how far we sailed, there were no more islands to be found. Beyond that point, we encountered a dense, impenetrable mist. I believe it to be a manifestation of Osara's power—an unnatural barrier. It holds the capability to obliterate entire islands, which would explain why no land exists within its claimed territory."

"A power capable of destroying an entire island?" The disbelief in Ms. Eyes' voice was mirrored in the wide-eyed expressions of the other members around the table.

Arthur's brow furrowed, and he lowered his head slightly, the weight of his findings pressing on him like a leaden cloak.

"Is there more, Mr. Light?" The voice came from Mr. Clone, who had grown uncharacteristically silent over the past year. Arthur had kept a watchful eye on him, wary of the sudden change, but Mr. Clone had yet to show any reason for distrust.

Arthur lifted his gaze and met the man's eyes. "Yes, there is. The mist is expanding."

A murmur swept through the room, and Mr. Crow's voice rose, sharp with alarm. "What?"

"It's moving slowly, but the growth is undeniable," Arthur continued, his tone steady but grim. "Osara is amassing strength, pushing its reach further and further. The beast is claiming more territory."

Ms. Shadow exhaled heavily, the tension in the room obvious. "First the Land of Darkness, and now the sea," she muttered, a note of resignation in her voice.

"Do you have any plan, Mr. Light?" Mr. King asked, his eyes sharp with the calculating gaze of a ruler always seeking a strategic solution.

Arthur inclined his head. "I do have one. I propose using false information to lure the pirates to the area, baiting them with tales of the creature and a legendary treasure it guards."

Mr. Immortal's brow furrowed, his previously mocking tone replaced by a rare seriousness. "And what can a band of pirates hope to achieve against a monster like that?"

Ms. Eyes leaned forward, her expression intent. "Some of those pirate crews include A-rank fighters, and while it may sound exaggerated, there are rumors that a few groups even boast S-rank members."

"S-rank? That's absurd. You don't just find S-rank fighters in every den of thieves," Mr. Immortal retorted, skepticism dripping from his words.

"That's why I called them rumors," Ms. Eyes replied coolly.

"Enough," Mr. King interjected, his voice carrying the weight of command, silencing the brewing argument.

Mr. Clone, who rarely voiced his opinions, broke his silence with a measured tone. "I actually believe it's a solid plan." 

Mr. Immortal turned to him, eyes narrowed. "You care to elaborate?"

Mr. Clone, paused for a moment, head bowed as if lost in thought. When he lifted his gaze, it was steady and unwavering. "With the three kingdoms preoccupied with their war against the Land of Darkness, the lawless territories pose a danger. Distracting these rogue elements by sending them after Osara serves a dual purpose. It could weaken their threat to us and, if fortune favors us, eliminate the creature—or at least some of the pirate factions."

The room fell silent as Mr. Immortal's expression shifted from anger to contemplation. The others mirrored his thoughtful look.

"Framed like that, it does make sense," Mr. King said, nodding. He turned to Arthur. "Proceed with your plan, Mr. Light. I'll assist in spreading the false intelligence and laying the groundwork before you return."

Arthur inclined his head, a rare hint of relief evident in his posture. "Thank you." 

…

Leo noticed Mr. Light relaxing in his seat and a subtle smile spread across his face.

Following the conversation about Osara, silence settled over the room. For a few moments, it seemed the meeting had come to a natural close—until Mr. Crow cleared his throat, drawing everyone's attention.

"I have two items for sale," he announced, his voice slipping into the polished tone of a practiced seller, the familiar gleam of business in his eyes.

He held up an illusion of the first item, pausing for effect. "The first item is the Arcane Gambit, an A-rank bow with an unusual twist," he said. "Its strengths are immense… and its risks equally high. To put it simply, with each shot you might release enough power to kill a dragon. But there's no guarantee; this weapon's as likely to explode in your hand as it is to succeed." Mr. Crow's voice dropped to an ominous whisper. "Its power is undeniable but the gamble it entails is reflected in its name. Bidding begins at 400 gold coins."

Silence filled the room as everyone mulled over the high risk and cost of the weapon. No one raised a hand.

"As expected," Mr. Crow murmured to himself, though a smile hinted at the corners of his mouth. He create an illusion of the second item, holding it up between his fingers—a small, plain ring glinting under the dim light. "The next item is the Ring of Clarity, a B rank item" he continued. "This one enhances the wearer's focus to a remarkable degree and has a unique function: it can store a single spell for later use. But," he added, glancing around the table, "The mana required to release the stored spell is three times the usual amount, and if you wear it too long, expect a persistent headache." He paused. "It's priced at 20 gold coins."

Leo waited a beat, ensuring he didn't react too quickly, before nodding. "I'll take it."

Mr. Crow met his gaze with an approving nod. "Very well," he said. "You'll receive it at our next meeting." The brief exchange over, Mr. Crow turned toward Mr. Sage and gave a small gesture indicating he had finished.

Finally, Mr. Sage, who had remained a silent sentinel throughout, lifted his head and addressed the room. His voice was calm and his tone authoritative. "This meeting is adjourned. See you all next Sunday."

One by one, the others nodded in agreement and, one after the other, began to disappear, fading into the misty ether that surrounded them. Leo took a deep breath and closed his eyes. When he opened them again he found himself back in his dimly lit room, the familiar shadows and muted colors of his space grounding him once more.

Exhaustion hit him all at once, and without bothering to think about the meeting, he closed his eyes and let sleep take him almost instantly.

…