Chapter 66

Chapter 66. The Banquet of the Gods

The Garden of the Gods.

Between colossal marble pillars and garden trees floating in midair, a faint aroma of Nectar hung in the atmosphere.

But in stark contrast to the tranquil ambiance, the air was stretched taut.

There was one common thread.

The countless eyes boring into me.

Not a single one held a kind gaze.

'He's always been a man who marches to his own drum.'

Heimdal was notorious for being a lone wolf.

Perhaps because of that.

Not one god looked upon him favorably.

All I could see was hostility, envy, or the oppressive gaze of predators sizing up prey.

On top of that.

'......They're strong.'

I was inwardly taken aback.

Even at a glance, the Divine Power they radiated was utterly overwhelming.

The mere act of breathing made the air shimmer and space feel heavier.

Those must be the rulers of this Tower -- the Supreme Tier gods.

In my previous life, the Final Strike Force and I had fought until we coughed blood.

But we'd barely managed to overcome upper-tier gods at best.

We'd never even reached the Supreme Tier.

So this was my first time seeing them in person.

At the same time, I had no choice but to acknowledge it on an instinctive level.

'They're in a different league from the upper-tier gods.'

A different Caliber entirely.

If they had joined the destruction of Earth seriously, in full force?

Humanity would have been blown apart long before I ever completed the Philosopher's Stone.

It was only because they'd treated it as a Game -- leaving it to lower-tier gods like children playing with toys -- that we'd been able to struggle at all.

But.

Thud. Thud.

Heimdal, walking ahead of me, was unhindered.

Even here, he deferred to no one.

Amid the murderous stares of countless Supreme Tier gods, he wasn't the least bit cowed.

Always, unfailingly arrogant.

True to the name Ruler of All Things, he simply raised his chin and walked his own path.

In that case.

'I won't lose to that.'

The answer was simple.

I just had to maintain the same attitude.

I squared my shoulders.

I wasn't overwhelmed by the lavish surroundings.

Whether Supreme Tier gods glared or not, I deflected those heavy gazes as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

Eyes fixed straight ahead.

I walked with brazenness unbecoming of a lesser god.

As if this place were my own living room.

"Quite the arrogant one."

"Like god, like Apostle."

Coughs and displeased murmuring leaked from the crowd.

Gods were sipping Nectar from golden chalices and making small talk in their clusters.

But even among those groups, clear boundaries were visible.

'Factions.'

Broadly, three blocs.

The Natural Lineage, same as Heimdal's.

The Biological Lineage, dealing in plague and poison.

The Material Lineage, bending explosions and the laws of physics.

And within those three major factions, gods of like temperament clumped even tighter, seated together.

A ruthless political arena.

But.

Heimdal was different.

He was clearly a pillar of the Natural Lineage, yet he didn't approach the cluster where the Natural Lineage gods were seated.

Instead, he strode to a vacant table at the garden's most prominent seat -- far removed from everyone -- and dropped himself into a chair.

A stubbornness that bordered on performance art.

Inwardly smirking, I pulled out the chair right beside his and sat down as if it were the obvious thing to do.

"......!"

In that instant.

A subtle hush fell over the garden.

The gods' gazes flooded with shock.

The murmuring swelled.

"He dares sit beside him?"

"A mere Apostle God taking the seat of honor?"

"And Heimdal's letting it slide?"

Normally, an Apostle God would stand behind their master like a guard, or sit one tier lower.

No matter how favored an Apostle, they couldn't place themselves shoulder-to-shoulder with a Supreme Tier god.

But I didn't care.

What's the big deal about pulling out a chair and sitting?

I went further -- crossing my legs and leaning back into the seat.

Several gods' expressions curdled at the brazenness.

But.

The person in question -- Heimdal -- didn't get angry.

On the contrary.

"Heh."

Halfway through raising his chalice, he let out a short, amused laugh.

He looked at me and curved his mouth upward with satisfaction.

As though my audacity pleased him.

That's right -- if you're my Apostle God, you'd better have this much gall. A proud, approving look.

"Comfortable?"

Heimdal asked, and I shrugged.

"The chair's a bit stiff, honestly."

The backrest was harder than expected.

At my answer, Heimdal let out another hearty laugh.

"Hahaha! My thoughts exactly. They've poured everything into ceremony and tossed comfort into the gutter."

All show and no substance.

He wasn't just talking about the chair.

He was talking about the gods gathered here.

The expressions of the other gods watching the exchange curdled further.

Disbelief, displeasure, amusement.

And then.

In the gaps between all of that.

One group in particular was radiating a viscous, chilling killing intent directed squarely at me.

I turned my gaze toward them.

On the far side from the Natural Lineage faction.

A white-skinned goddess, seated amid a frigid aura that wafted off her like mist.

'That must be Skadi.'

I didn't even need to ask.

No other god would be simultaneously glaring at both Heimdal and me with such murderous intensity.

The patron deity of Cryos, whom I had killed. The loser of a wager against Heimdal.

And the Goddess of Winter who had bound the Barbarian Brothers.

Her gaze collided squarely with mine in the air.

I didn't look away.

Behind her, the multitude of gods in her faction were eyeing me and Heimdal like beasts.

What particularly caught my attention was the figure behind Skadi.

A man standing in her shadow like a bodyguard.

'Another Apostle God.'

I could tell at a glance.

The quality of the cold he radiated was different.

A heavy, refined Mana that Cryos couldn't begin to compare to.

A genuine monster who'd reached at minimum the rank of a high-tier god.

He was leaking killing intent in my direction.

I curled the corner of my mouth.

Smirk.

I let a light scoff slip and turned my gaze away.

Staring contests and posturing are for amateurs.

Rather, not caring at all.

The attitude that his killing intent wasn't even worth a breeze.

That's the most arrogant and dignified move.

Case in point -- look at Heimdal beside me.

Arms crossed, he wasn't even glancing at Skadi's side.

As if the barking of dogs wasn't worth hearing.

I swept my gaze across the entire garden.

The number of gods gathered at the Banquet had to be at least several hundred.

Not just Supreme Tier gods, but every Apostle God they'd brought along.

'By the way.'

My eyes moved.

'Why is that table empty?'

At the center of the garden.

An immense white table stood, so long its end wasn't visible.

The smaller tables surrounding it, where gods had gathered in clusters, were laden with golden chalices of Nectar and lavish delicacies.

But on that great table in the very middle.

'......There's nothing.'

An empty table.

Not even chairs had been set.

For a simple decoration, it occupied too prominent a position.

What was it there for?

I was pondering this when.

Thud.

A man stepped onto the dais at the front of the garden.

He'd risen from the Natural Lineage faction's seating.

An enormous build.

A muscular frame draped in white robes.

The moment he took center stage, the buzzing garden fell deathly silent.

Every god's eyes converged on him.

He was likely the emcee of this Banquet and the pinnacle of the Supreme Tier gods assembled here.

"Take a good look."

Heimdal whispered low in my ear.

"That's Aigis."

Aigis.

"The one currently sitting at number one in the Supreme Tier hierarchy."

Heimdal's voice carried a peculiar edge.

As though addressing a longtime rival.

Or as though one day, he'd wring that bastard's neck and seize the seat for himself.

An aggression that verged on a growl.

Aigis opened his mouth.

"Welcome, great rulers of Asgard."

His voice was smooth, yet laden with a Divine Might heavy enough to reverberate across the entire garden.

"I wish to honor the efforts of all gathered here today and share the fruits of our collective achievements."

Aigis launched into his address.

Every word from his lips was more grotesque than the last.

"The Essence recovery rate from recently destroyed worlds has increased by 1.5% compared to the previous cycle."

Essence.

Human despair and blood, the life force of worlds hurtling toward ruin.

The term for the energy squeezed from all of that.

"Furthermore, all worlds in the 200-series dimensions have at last returned to the Tower's embrace. They have collapsed completely and been absorbed as Asgard's nourishment."

He smiled as though reporting a proud accomplishment.

"Thanks to this, Asgard has grown ever more prosperous, and our Authorities ever more robust."

Gods clinked their chalices and cheered.

They used the destruction of hundreds, thousands of worlds as table talk while downing Nectar.

My stomach twisted.

"And."

Aigis's expression turned grave.

"I shall now relay the most critical agenda item decided at this Banquet."

He gave the garden a sweeping glance.

"The level of World No. 400 -- the primary stage of our current Game -- 'Earth,' is to be adjusted."

Earth's level.

"It will be upgraded immediately from the existing B-grade to A-grade."

The garden erupted into commotion.

Raising a world's level was no trivial matter, it seemed.

"Accordingly."

Aigis raised a hand.

"The difficulty of Episodes conducted on Earth will rise. The quality of deployed monsters will change, and the world's Mana density will increase dramatically."

He added a warning to the gods currently participating in the Game.

"Those of you who have sent Avatars to Earth for the Game should take heed. A moment's carelessness could cost you the humiliation of a dead Avatar."

If an existing Avatar dies, a new one must be created and raised from scratch.

"The difficulty's going up?"

"Doesn't that mean the humans get stronger too?"

"I'll need to feed my Avatar more Nectar."

Gods murmured.

From the murmuring, I pieced together the general picture.

Even at B-grade, Earth was a world that yielded solid entertainment on the road to ruin.

An upgrade to A-grade meant it had become the highest-difficulty playground.

Then, one of the gods finally shot to his feet, unable to hold back.

"A question!"

A god from the Material Lineage faction.

"What is the reason for this sudden upgrade? Could it be because of that deranged Avatar dominating the Hall of Fame -- 'NONAME'?"

A question that struck at the heart of the matter.

All eyes turned to Aigis.

NONAME.

The out-of-spec Avatar that had crushed every Episode on Earth with overwhelming scores and even broken through the Incomprehensible difficulty.

Aigis nodded calmly.

"Half correct, half not."

"What does that mean?"

"The precise cause is known only to the system."

Aigis stroked his chin.

"Our analysis suggests it is the result of a large number of 'upper-tier gods' entering this particular Game for World No. 400."

His gaze swept across the garden.

"Compared to Games on other worlds, the volume of Nectar being invested into Avatars on Earth is remarkably -- overwhelmingly -- high."

An Avatar arms race.

Yamamoto and other gods had been pouring in obscene amounts of Nectar -- some to reclaim 1st place, others to hunt NONAME.

That massive influx of Divine Power had overloaded Earth's system, causing the world's very vessel to expand.

"There is no downside."

Aigis smiled.

"It simply means Earth has absorbed more Nectar and grown more fertile. The Essence we reap when it is finally destroyed will be proportionally greater."

Gods nodded.

He wasn't wrong.

Greater risk, greater reward.

But questions lingered.

"Then let me ask one thing."

The same god raised his voice again.

"The top-ranked players, including 'NONAME.'"

The garden held its breath.

"Could their true bodies be...... the Twelve Sovereign Gods?"

"The Twelve Sovereign Gods?"

"Those lords, playing the Game?"

Uproar.

The silence shattered as an enormous shockwave rippled through.

The Twelve Sovereign Gods.

They ordinarily had zero interest in the Games of the lower realms.

Even when destroying other worlds, they rarely bothered creating Avatars, content to merely observe.

There was only one circumstance in which they personally entered a Game.

An exceptionally fertile world.

Or a supreme-grade world born at A-grade or above.

That's why the suspicion had taken root.

Why, in a world that had started at a mere B-grade, were the Twelve Sovereign Gods suspected of involvement?

"Answer us!"

Questions flew like a barrage.

If the Twelve Sovereign Gods were participating in the Game, then for lesser and mid-tier gods, it wasn't just slim pickings -- it was a dangerous gamble where their Avatars could be torn apart and destroyed.

Aigis wore a pained expression.

"......That is a matter I cannot answer."

He averted his gaze.

"How could I presume to fathom the Twelve Sovereign Gods' intentions?"

That evasion only amplified the gods' suspicions.

The garden swelled with murmuring.

Doubt and discontent were on the verge of erupting.

That was when it happened.

RUMMMBLE--!

Without warning, the garden's sky boomed as though splitting apart.

The marble floor shuddered. Nectar chalices rattled.

"......!"

Every murmur ceased in an instant.

All gazes converged on a single point.

Space began to warp and blacken.

Hsssssh.

Darkness coalesced, and a single form emerged.

A being whose mere presence seemed to extinguish every light in the garden. An entity of overwhelming abyss.

One of the Twelve Sovereign Gods.

"L-Lord Hod......!"

Hod, the Dark God.

The moment he appeared.

SHING.

Every one of the hundreds of Supreme Tier gods seated throughout the garden rose to their feet simultaneously, as if by prior arrangement.

Even Aigis bowed his head deeply.

Heimdal, too, uncrossed his arms and stood.

That was the stature the Twelve Sovereign Gods commanded.

But.

The shock didn't end there.

FLASH!

The space beside Hod tore open, and a towering giant clad in crimson Fighting Spirit descended.

The God of War.

Next came the sovereign of the seas, treading upon azure waves.

Then the sovereign of thunder, wreathed in golden lightning.

One by one, they began to fill the empty table.

"Th-this can't be......"

Someone groaned as though in disbelief.

The Twelve Sovereign Gods.

All twelve of them had appeared, every last one.

An event without precedent.

In the entire history of the Tower, the Twelve Sovereign Gods descending upon a Banquet could be counted on one hand.

And never once had all twelve appeared together.

A suffocating silence passed.

The one who broke it was Hod, the Dark God.

"There is nothing to doubt."

Hod declared, gazing down at the frozen gods.

"Your suspicions are correct."

The corners of his mouth twisted upward.

"All twelve of us Sovereign Gods."

The God of War drove a bloodstained blade into the floor and added.

"Have resolved to create Avatars on Earth."