Godslayer's Legacy: THE PATH TO SUPREMACY

The Observation Chamber within the Sovereign Spire was bathed in pale moonlight, its towering arched windows framing the sprawling city below. Silvery mana conduits traced faint patterns along the stone walls, their hum blending seamlessly with the faint whisper of the night wind filtering in from the open balcony.

Rui stood near the edge of the window, his silver eyes glowing faintly as he stared out into the endless night. His black tunic, embroidered with subtle threads of mana, clung lightly to his frame as the wind tugged at his silver hair. It had been a week since Rui awakened..

The city below stretched endlessly, its streets alive with restless lantern light and faint murmurs of anticipation. But Rui wasn't focused on the city.

His eyes were distant, staring past the skyline, past the mountains, toward something far away—something heavy and foreboding in the threads of mana that stretched across the continent.

Behind him, the heavy chamber doors creaked open. The sound of boots on polished stone echoed faintly before Kovar and Fenrir entered. Kovar's glass brain dome flickered with faint holographic data streams, his pale eyes sharp and focused. Fenrir walked beside him, arms crossed over his chest, his sharp predator's gaze locked onto Rui's silhouette.

Neither man spoke immediately. They stopped a few paces behind Rui, waiting.

After a long pause, Rui broke the silence without turning around.

"You've been hiding something from me."

His voice was calm, steady, but it carried an edge—a faint ripple of something sharp beneath the stillness.

Fenrir exhaled heavily through his nose, stepping forward until he stood beside Rui at the balcony railing. The cold wind brushed against both their faces as Fenrir spoke, his voice low and heavy.

"The Abyssal Ravine."

Rui turned his head slightly, his glowing eyes locking onto Fenrir's sharp gaze. The words hung in the air like a weight, heavy and undeniable.

Kovar stepped closer, his voice softer but no less intense.

"It's an ancient wound in the earth, Rui. A fissure carved so deep into the planet's crust that mana itself leaks from its edges. For centuries, it's been dormant—dangerous, yes, but dormant. But two weeks ago… something changed."

Rui's brow furrowed slightly, and his glowing eyes narrowed.

"The expedition?"

Kovar adjusted one of the floating crystalline displays hovering beside him. An image flickered into view—a map of the Abyssal Ravine, etched with glowing red fractures and fluctuating mana signatures.

"The Council sent an expedition. Some of the best adventurers in the world—S-Rank individuals with experience, power, and resilience. They descended into the Ravine to investigate the rising disturbances."

Fenrir's jaw tightened, his sharp gaze locked on the distant horizon as though he could see the Abyss from where they stood.

"They haven't returned, Rui. Not a word. Not a signal. Just silence."

The wind howled softly through the chamber, carrying the weight of those words.

Rui turned fully now, facing both men. His silver eyes glimmered faintly as the runes etched within them caught the pale light.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

Kovar hesitated, his pale eyes flickering with something almost akin to regret.

"Because you needed time, Rui. Time to stabilize, time to understand yourself and your power. You've already carried more weight than most men could bear. We wanted you focused."

Fenrir spoke next, his voice calm but edged with honesty.

"But now… now the world can't afford for you to be left in the dark. You needed to know, Rui, because the Council's plans for you aren't just about hope. They're about necessity."

Rui's hands clenched faintly at his sides as his mind processed the information. The faint hum of mana threads danced across his fingertips, reacting to his emotions despite his steady breathing.

"What do they expect me to do?" Rui's voice was quiet, but it carried weight.

Kovar's gloved hands hovered briefly over the floating crystalline panel, his pale lips pressing together in a thin line. "They expect you to be a symbol, Rui. A promise. Tomorrow, you will speak—not just to this city, but to the entire continent. Millions will see you, hear you. And when they look into your eyes, they'll need to see something more than power."

Fenrir's gravelly voice followed, carrying an edge of finality.

"They need to see resolve. They need to see someone who can stand against the unknown and not waver. The council doesn't need you to fight tomorrow, Rui—they need you to believe."

The silence that followed was heavy, broken only by the faint hum of the mana conduits lining the chamber walls.

Rui turned his back to them, his silver eyes gazing back out into the distance, toward the darkness that stretched beyond the horizon.

"You're asking me to be a shield before I'm ready."

Fenrir stepped closer, his voice softer this time, almost… gentle.

"Nobody is ever ready for moments like these, Rui. You stand because you must. You promise because someone has to."

Kovar's voice followed, quieter, tinged with faint guilt.

"You're more prepared than you think, Rui. Your connection with mana, your clarity—it's not something we can replicate. You were made for this moment, whether by fate, coincidence, or by some god."

Kovar's words hung in the air, their weight settling heavily on Rui's shoulders. "You were made for this moment, whether by fate, coincidence, or by some god." The phrase echoed in Rui's mind, bouncing around the edges of memories he hadn't allowed himself to revisit in months.

His glowing silver eyes drifted downward, his breath catching faintly in his chest. The threads of mana surrounding him seemed to quiet, their faint hum softening into something almost reverent.

Fenrir and Kovar exchanged a glance, but neither spoke. They sensed the shift in Rui's aura—a stillness that felt almost fragile.

Rui's voice, when it came, was quiet, hesitant.

"Some god…"

His mind drifted back—to that day, so long ago now, back at the Kirean Estate. The stillness of the forest, the golden light filtering through the leaves, and the feeling of something immense pressing against his soul.

It wasn't the raw dominance of mana or the oppressive weight of a predator's presence—it was something else entirely. Something ancient. Something… divine.

He remembered the voice—not loud, not sharp, but clear. Like sunlight cutting through the morning mist.

"You will walk a path others cannot tread. You will carry burdens heavier than mountains. And when the world trembles, you will stand where others fall."

His chest tightened as he remembered those words. At the time, he hadn't understood them. They felt distant, like fragments of a dream clinging to the edges of his waking mind. But now, standing here—on the eve of a moment that would etch his name into the annals of history—they felt different.

They felt real.

Kovar's pale eyes studied Rui carefully, the glow of his glass brain dome flickering softly.

"Rui? What is it?"

Rui looked up, his glowing eyes locking onto Kovar's. His voice was steady, but there was something raw beneath the calm exterior.

"I met someone… or something, back at the estate. It wasn't just a presence—it was a being. A god, or something close to one."

Fenrir's brow furrowed, his sharp gaze narrowing.

"A god? Are you certain it wasn't a mana anomaly? A hallucination brought on by exhaustion?"

Rui shook his head slowly.

"No. It was clear. It wasn't chaotic like an anomaly, and it wasn't fleeting like a vision. It was… purposeful. It spoke to me. It said things I didn't understand at the time, things I thought were just… nonsense. But now—"

He paused, his glowing silver eyes flickering as if catching some distant light.

"Now I understand. It wasn't just speaking in riddles. It was preparing me. Warning me."

Kovar's gloved hand hovered over his crystalline interface as he processed Rui's words. His voice, though analytical, carried an edge of reverence." A divine encounter… if true, that changes everything. The gods have been silent for centuries—longer than recorded history. Rui, then it means you are not just an anomaly. If one spoke to you—it means something greater is at play."

The word hung in the air, heavy and sharp.

Fenrir's voice cut through the stillness, rough but steady.

"Do you believe it, Rui? Do you believe that god—or whatever it was—chose you for this path?"

Rui turned back to the window, his glowing silver eyes staring into the endless night. When he spoke, his voice carried the weight of something unshakable.

"Yes. I believe it."

The air seemed to still. The faint hum of mana threads rose softly, vibrating in harmony with Rui's calm breathing.

Finally, Fenrir nodded.

"Then carry that belief into tomorrow. Speak it so they can hear it. Let them believe it, too."

The threads of mana around him stirred faintly, their soft hum rising into a gentle chorus—a resonance that neither Fenrir nor Kovar could hear, but both could feel. It was as if the world itself paused, acknowledging the weight of Rui's realization.

Fenrir grunted faintly, his sharp gaze still locked on Rui.

"Whether it's a god or the madness of mana—it doesn't matter anymore. You carry the weight now, boy. And the world will feel it."

Rui closed his eyes briefly, letting the hum of mana threads wrap around him, embracing the stillness within his chest.

Rui's voice, steady yet fragile, carried into the stillness.

"Why me? Of all people… why me?"

For a brief moment, neither Fenrir nor Kovar spoke. The silence stretched thin, fragile, like glass about to shatter.

Rui's silver eyes dimmed slightly as his voice dropped to a whisper.

"Was it fate? Was it necessity? Did that being choose me because it saw potential… or because I was simply there?"

The faint threads of mana danced gently around Rui, weaving intricate patterns in the air. Fenrir's voice, low and firm, broke the silence.

"It doesn't matter why, boy. What matters is that you were chosen. Whether by fate or by accident, you now stand in a place no one else can."

Kovar nodded faintly, his pale eyes glimmering behind the glass dome.

"There are questions without answers, Rui. Perhaps you'll find them someday. But not today. Today, all that matters is how you carry this burden."

Rui closed his eyes briefly, drawing a deep breath as the faint hum of mana threads rose softly, vibrating in harmony with his heartbeat. When he opened them again, his silver eyes shone with unyielding clarity.

"I'll bear it then," he said softly. "Whatever it takes."

For a heartbeat, the room felt still—frozen in the weight of those words. The mana threads pulsed faintly, shimmering like starlight caught in motion. The wind stirred once more, carrying the faint scent of rain and ozone through the open balcony.

Somewhere, far beyond the mountains and the horizon, something ancient stirred. But in this moment, Rui stood still—his feet firmly planted, his heart steady, and his purpose clear.