<u>Inside the Holy Palace, One floor beneath the celebration</u>


    “What the hell took you so long?! The celebration has already begun!”


    “I-I’m s-sorry. It was really heavy so it t-took longer than e-expected.”


    “Huh? I did not hear a word of what you said. Honestly, I don’t even care. Just hand me the damn heart already. The longer you make me wait the angrier I’ll be.”


    “R-Right away.”


    The frail boy slowly handed over a clear glass container to his brother. Fearing what would happen if he so much as twitched his finger, he made sure to be as careful as possible. His younger brother, Deiphobus, laughed franticly as he glared at the object inside of that container. It was a display of life. An oval shaped drum, spewing pools of liquid with each beat. “Excellent!” he roared out. “I’ve dreamed about this day since I was a little boy. But now it is no longer a dream. Soon I will have attained the power of an Olympian! And receive my own Infinite.”


    “I-I’m h-happy for you brother.”


    “Shut your mouth, worm. I’m shocked you still have the gall to show your face in this Palace. You are the third oldest of the Trojan Prince’s yet I, the fourth oldest, was chosen to become an Olympian before you. Do you feel no shame?”


    “W-Well. N-No. You were always better than me, brother. It-It’s only right.”


    “‘It’s only right’ he says…” The boy gazed down at his frail brother with eyes of detest, and while dramatically turning to head to the celebration he finished, “…At least you know your place. People like you were born to worship the very ground I walk on.” As he walked away from his pathetic excuse of a brother, one thought faded into his mind,


    (Hector. Paris. With this, I will finally catch up to you two.)


    <h2>***</h2>


    Within this sacred palace, there was a room located on the highest floor. A room decorated with bright lights and beautiful treasures. As well as a few fine trinkets here and there to further elevate it''s feeling of superiority.


    Rulers from every nation of Kukizer sat comfortably as they ate food even distinguished noble men would drool over. Laughing, as they guzzled down the finest alcohol in the lands.


    To their right, eye candy in the form of beautiful dancing maidens.


    To their left, cloaked magicians, prepped to be summoned at any moment’s notice.


    And to their front, a device that rested on expensive cloth just on top of 7 small steps.


    A tool that has kept the Troy family in power for the last four decades. As well as the only reason they can stand equally with the mighty nations of Tang, Bushin and Camelot.


    Starting off the toast was a rather chubby man that reeked of greed and gluttony. “We gather today, to celebrate Prince Deiphobus becoming an Olympian! To Prince Deiphobus and the prosperity of Kukizer!”


    “To Prince Deiphobus!” The others cheered as they raised their goblets.


    With that, the party had begun.


    Whether it was the alcohol talking or a classic political strategy, the chubby man proposed to the king, “Say Priam. My daughter here just turned fifteen years old. I brought her here, so you could see her beauty yourself. Surely, she would make a fine gift for today’s star.”Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.


    The equally chubby King caressed his lengthy white beard, a hearty laugh escaping his lips as he remarked, “Well. She does look quite appetizing…” His insatiable gaze roamed over the girl’s unsuspecting form, taking note of how she instinctively placed her hand between her small chest and how she awkwardly averted her eyes. “…Perhaps I should take her for myself.”


    “Oh, that would be fine too!” he responded, both erupting into a fit of almost maniacal laughter. If humanity is indeed as wicked as often portrayed, then these two could only be described as “honest to good humans.”


    Their raucous laughter was abruptly halted by a mage stationed nearby, who leaned in to whisper urgently to the King. “Polyxena has been killed you say…?” King Priam echoed, his brow furrowing. “But she did deliver the AntiGod as planned, right…? Then that’s all that matters.”


    “Is something troubling you, Priam?” inquired a fellow ruler seated to his left.


    “Oooh nothing important.”


    *Creak! The sound of the door swinging open drew the attention of all who were present.


    “Ah, if it isn’t the star of the show himself!” Welcomed King Priam. So glad you could join us-!”


    “Star, huh? I think I like the ring of that.”


    “……………” For reasons unknown to the boy, the rulers quaked at his presence. Some appeared as though they wished to speak, yet the words remained trapped in their throats, while others looked as if they might faint from the mere sight of him.


    “Hmm? Why is everyone so quiet?” the young prince inquired. At that moment, a searing gust of wind coiled around his neck, sending an icy shiver racing down his spine. He swallowed hard, steeling himself to turn his head slowly. When he finally did, the vomit of Satan pierced straight into his very soul. In a moment of shock, he dropped the glass container, shattering it and the heart within.


    (What the hell is that…) he pondered.


    A shame really. That was a question he’d never get an answer to.


    “GET BACK, PRINCE DEIPHOBUS!!!” The mages yelled as they fired a rainbow of bright lights. There was no time to wait for him to run, they simply hoped he possessed the wit to already have been escaping.


    *PSEWWW!! *PSEWWW!! *PSEWWW!!


    As the dust settled, an eerie stillness enveloped the chamber. The haunting image of the prince, punctured by gaping wounds, seared into their minds.


    Unbeknownst to them, the prince had indeed attempted to flee. Yet, in that moment, an unseen force gripped his throat, using his own body as a barrier against the onslaught. Perhaps, "Barrier" is the correct term for it. In truth, each strike not only tore through the prince but also struck down the beast looming behind him.


    He just didn’t care.


    A mere glance to the left sent the mages reeling in terror, some soiling their garments, while others chose the take their own lives. A second glance to the right caused the trembling young women to faint in fear. Upon reaching him, he crouched to meet his gaze and inquired slowly, “Where is God?”


    Before, anyone who heard him ask that question remained quiet in hopes of survival. They simply couldn’t understand the words that left his lips. But not this time. King Priam understood his words. He was the only one in this room that could.


    “Y-You. S-Speak the language of the gods.”


    The creature bared its teeth in a sinister grin and replied, “But of course I do. I am a God.”


    The trembling King pointed shakily at the golden Trumpet behind him.


    “I see... Yes… I do sense his power oozing from that device. Good work, human.” As it approached the trumpet, it murmured, “Yes… I can feel it! This. Is God.”


    He reached him hand out to grab it, getting ever so close with each passing moment. But right before he could so much as poke it, an unseen force halted its advance.


    A woman’s hand. She couldn’t get a solid grip with how much larger his forearm was, but she didn’t need one. Even with just this, he couldn’t budge his arm a single inch.


    He turned to face her, taking in her imposing stature, standing just over 190 cm. A flowing white coat draped from her shoulders, and an outfit that covered all but her toned, chocolate-skinned midriff. Like the strange being, she too bore the hair of the gods, styled in a large afro that obscured her eyes. Removing the cigar from her full lips, she proposed,


    “I think it’d be a better idea if I blew it…What do you say…? Gilgamesh.”


    “Gilgamesh… That name sounds familiar. Is that my name?” he asked, confusion lacing his voice.


    “Oh my. Lost your memories have you. You must’ve combined with a rather weak-willed human… You always did have a soft spot for weaklings. Always coddling Enkidu.”


    “Let go of me.”


    “Step away from the trumpet and I will.”


    Recognizing the strength of her grip, he decided to unleash the full force of his power. “LET GO OF ME!!” A powerful wave of despair filled the room, causing any still conscious soul to lose their minds. Their eyes crossed in opposite directions, and they’d gone so mad that they laughed themselves to near death.


    All but one.


    She tightened her hold on his arm, crushing it until it seemed to vanish within her palm. “Step away from the trumpet.” Her overwhelming power eclipsed his, forcing him into submission. That display hammered in a forgotten memory.


    He severed his crushed arm and crept back as a way of saying “Understood.”


    “Good boy… Now as for this…”


    *BLOW!!!