Mark stepped into the Pantheonic Garden, toward the 6-sided golden cathedral spike in the center. The whole thing was covered in goldleaf, and it had goldleaf flames dancing up the edges of the spike, as per Castellan-designs, but it was a representation of the Pantheon, and it had 6 sides to it, one for each of the gods. Malaqua, Verdago, Drakarok, Hearthswell, Pluta, and Freyala. The main worshiping hub of this particular place of worship was generally shaped like a gazebo at the bottom, but it was not large enough for people to go inside. People were not meant to walk around inside the gazebo, and it would have been highly rude to allow for such a thing.

  This was the place of the gods, after all.

  Mark knelt outside of the gazebo, at the space that was Freyala’s, and Freyala knelt down beside him.

  Just like that.

  Mark looked at the golden goddess Freyala, and said, “Hello.”

  “Hello, Mark.”

  … Mark suddenly found himself without words, so he said, “I had a plan coming into this conversation but all my words are kinda… lost? I guess I expected to put my heart out there, first, and to maybe apologize for not actually, uh, talking before now.”

  Freyala grinned softly. “I know your measure, Mark. The good you have done in the last several weeks is more than most people will have done in their entire lives, and that’s not even touching the goblin situation, or your part in helping ensure that Addashield did not fall, or for the Battle for Memphi. For one so young, you already have many accolades to your name.

  “Drakarok is immensely happy with Sally.

  “Pluta is overjoyed in her own kind of way, and though she has never had a user of True Prosperity that could actually kill a kaiju, she is already working the numbers and seeing good outcomes for all.

  “Verdago is working right now, but he’s excited, though he is worried about Tartu’s ties to empire. It is a worry.

  “Hearthswell is much less worried about everything, now that True Castle-keepers will be stationed at both permanent gates between the Two Worlds.

  “As for myself, I have several backups, but I am truly joyful to see how well Isoko has taken to proper power.

  “I expected greatness from the inheritor of Addashield’s legacy, but what I got was a world-changer.

  “I want you to know that even though the start was rough, and I am forever sorry for that, I am glad that I instructed Lola to impart Union unto you over a year ago. You were brave then, and you are still brave to this day.

  “Thank you, Mark.

  “Please let me help you when you get your Second Awakening.” Freyala added, “I just need to know, exactly, what you want. I have some suggestions, but ultimately the choice is yours. Are you aware of how this works? If you are not, I would like to tell you, because thanks to you and your team the Pantheon knows how it works, now.” With a small smile, Freyala added, “Malaqua of course knows already, but he won’t tell anyone anything unless such dissemination of knowledge is approved by everyone, and you can, of course, guess how that works out.”

  Mark felt seen.

  Freyala had spoken, and Mark felt seen. Connected to the entire world. Almost giddy with joy. Mark respected Freyala a whole fucking lot, and to hear her talk about him in this way almost gave him the giggles. It was a good feeling. Mark ended up grinning way too much. He was about to say something, perhaps a ‘thank you’ and a ‘I couldn’t have done it without you’, or a ‘You do so much more than I do and thank you for the Shavallian Union trick and everything else!’ but then Freyala continued.

  “To put it succinctly, when you are bathed in prismatic mana, you get choices,” Freyala said, “It’s all rather dreamlike for everyone, but I can help settle the dream in ways you want it to be settled before we get there, thus allowing your choices to manifest for you. You do most of the work, but—”

  Malaqua’s side of the Pantheonic Spire, the portion where the gazebo had stairs leading toward the center, began to flicker with light and shadow.

  Freyala instantly paused.

  Mark glanced toward Malaqua’s part of the golden gazebo, openly wondering, “Ah? Malaqua—”

  And then Freyala was in front of him, facing the portal, hand spread backward at Mark, covering him with golden light.

  All the world burned with golden fire as other gods stepped out of Elsewhere, each of the portions of the gazebo unfolding with power and presence. The Pantheonic Garden suddenly grew too big, too fast, spreading out in every direction, whipping into a deep, green-gold forest. The Pantheonic Spire was now 25 meters tall, and more than sized for people.

  Verdago was among the trees, creating seedpods aimed like guns at the portal, while Drakarok stood ready in sun-sparking armor, 10 meters from the portal, with a spear made of stars. Golden fire coursed down the Pantheonic spire, into Malaqua’s open portal, trying to close it off, some old woman’s voice, Hearthswell’s, echoing in the light about how he was coming anyway. Pluta stood in the back, glaring hatred at the portal.

  The Dreadnought was gone.

  Mark was somewhere he knew he should not be, but it was happening anyway and Freyala was here to protect him. Everyone else was there to fight whatever was coming.

  Drakarok, tall, golden-armored, threw a spear made of suns at Malaqua’s portal—

  A black-gauntleded hand grabbed the spear, slashing it to the side, and a man in spiky black armor stepped out, grinning, white hair flowing on the breeze, skin white as snow, eyes like blood. His mouth was full of fangs, but his voice was almost seductive as he said, “Luck is such a bullshit Power.”

  Kardi stepped out with the man, smiling brightly, waving her free hand at Mark, saying, “Hi Mark! You’re looking good!”

  Kardi’s other hand was holding the man’s free hand, and she was so happy to be doing that.

  Mark stared, unable to comprehend what he was looking at.

  Oh sure.

  That was Kardi.

  Skinny, tall, girly.

  Mark still remembered cutting her down multiple times and then one final time, when she was in a cell and talking about Thrashtalon’s angels and how she would be so much more powerful if Mark killed her, or some shit like that. Mark felt discombobulated right now. And Kardi was alive.

  And the man holding the sun-spear was obviously Malcolm Shaw, otherwise known as Thrashtalon, the Betrayer God, the Wilder, the Demon Enchanter, and a hundred other truly evil names that had been given to him over the years, since he ascended to godhood alongside the Pantheon. Mark still didn’t know how, or why Thrashtalon was a god, and he still didn’t. No one really did. The Pantheon fought him all the time, though.

  They called it the War for Life.

  Why was he here?

  Why did he step through one of the Pantheon’s archways on the Pantheonic Spire?

  Wasn’t that Malaqua’s entryway?

  But no.

  Mark looked to the gazebo —barely a glance, he didn’t want to take his eyes off of Thrashtalon or Kardi— but he saw a blue cube, or maybe a hexagon, or maybe a sphere, floating in the center of the gazebo, underneath the center of the spire. That was Malaqua.

  Malaqua was at the center of the sphere.

  The 6 entryways to the Pantheonic Spire belonged to the 5 Gods of the Pantheon and also Thrashtalon.

  Of course it made sense when you realized Thrashtalon was a Betrayer God. He didn’t just betray humanity as a whole. He betrayed the Pantheon, too.

  But he was still a god under the System.

  Barely a second had passed since Thrashtalon stood in full view of everyone, like a monolith, with Kardi at his side. The Betrayer God was wearing spiky black armor, his hair pure white and flowing. Kardi wore black leathers with a bandolier of wands at her hip. And then there was a third person.

  A wretch, smaller than everyone. Green. Maybe only as tall as—

  It was Grax the goblin, though mutated. Wilded. He had an extra eye at the top of his head. That extra eye swiveled fast and then locked onto Mark. Grax’s own eyes looked Mark’s way after the center eye did so, and Grax’s vector did a weird sort of nodding. His lips curled into a grin. But then Grax turned his eyes back toward everyone else, toward the other gods. Why the fuck was he here? Why was he happy to see Mark? He was worried about everything happening, but also full of joyful, quiet vengeance.

  … The fuck?!

  The vectors of the gods told a story too deep to be understood at the surface.

  Drakarok hated Thrashtalon in so many ways, but he wanted the guy back into the fold. Or dead. Dead also worked.

  Freyala simply wanted Thrashtalon dead and Mark protected.

  Hearthswell, Verdago, and Pluta all wanted this not to happen, but since it was happening they were here.

  Malaqua was rock-like. Unreadable. Mostly, he was here to ensure things went smoothly; whatever the fuck that meant.

  And then Verdago turned on the bullet seedpods in all the overgrown gardens all around the meeting place. The seedpods shot railgun-speed bullets of magical power that Kardi stepped through, holding Thrashtalon’s hand the whole time. They practically danced. For one weird, unreal moment, Kardi looked up at her god, and she danced with him, and he danced with her.

  The bullets missed them completely.

  Grax became red paste spread across the green-gold grasses.

  The bullets stopped.

  Small arms reached out of the red paste that was Grax and put him back together. No one said a thing. No one even cared that Grax was here and currently small, and he was self-resurrecting—

  No. Not self-resurrecting.

  He had a demon inside of him.

  The demon was resurrecting him.

  Mark had no idea how he knew, but he knew that Leash was the demon inside of Grax—

  “And so we’re here!” Thrashtalon said, letting the sunspear return to the air, as he stopped dancing with Kardi—

  The sun spear instantly reappeared in Drakarok’s gauntleted grip as he pointed it once again at Thrashtalon, saying, “Begone, Wilder. You are not welcome here.”

  “I am welcome anywhere the Pantheon is welcome, because the System cannot exist without me,” Thrashtalon said, and then he glared. His voice was an evil brilliance in the world as he intoned, “None of you are willing to deal with the darkness like I do.”

  “You are the darkness,” Freyala accused. “You are the problem with our world.”

  “The problems were here long before I was here, and they will remain long after we’re all stardust, once again,” Thrashtalon said, “Life and civilization will always be a problem. Therefore, someone must be around to take in the lost, the hurt, the dangerous, and then use them against each other and then kill them, harvesting what needs to be harvested. The System, the Two Worlds, all of life itself, was not built on kindness. It is all built on exploitation. The builders of the System realized this. I exist because the world exists how it exists, and all of your attempts to stop me only reinforce my Truth.”

  Drakarok pointed his spear at Thrashtalon’s chest, and for a moment they looked like two sides of the same coin. Both in armor, but one was golden brilliance, and the other was cold and dark. Drakarok told Thrashtalon, “Leave. You were not Called. You have no place here at all.”

  “Incorrect!” Thrashtalon said, smiling like a viper. He put a hand on Kardi’s shoulder, and said, “Mark here is doing an end-run of godly backups, and by right of Pantheon, I will have my own godly backup as well! Kardi here will be my backup.”

  Mark reacted.

  No thoughts.

  Only action.

  Mark speared forward, hand turning into a vector that connected to Kardi’s vector, straight into her heart, and then Mark was standing there, hand crushing Kardi’s heart, inside of her chest, and she didn’t care. She smiled and put a hand on Mark’s arm. Blood dripped out of her mouth.

  “Black is a good look on you,” Kardi said, reaching up and touching the side of Mark’s face.

  Mark turned to blades, slicing Kardi. Or at least he tried to.

  Kardi turned into splashed gore and Thrashtalon pulled her away, even as she laughed, the two of them still holding hands, and then Kardi reformed into a person and Thrashtalon was there in front of Mark and he kicked out.

  Mark went flying, tumbling through the golden garden of the gods, slamming through tens of trees before he came to rest several kilometers away—

  And then Mark was only 20 meters away from Thrashtalon and Kardi, and Freyala stood beside him, over him, holding a glowing golden light over his body. The pain hit Mark at that moment. Healing did that sometimes. You didn’t feel shit until you actually started to feel better. Mark looked down at his body, and he saw red blood seeping out of black flesh. He spurted blood.

  If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  Mark muttered, “Fuck?”

  Thrashtalon said, “Is that to be your answer? Are you going to reject Kardi as a part of this ritual to make yourself into a god, Mark?”

  Mark tried to sit up and everything still hurt, but he still sat up, he still glared as he looked at Kardi, and as he watched Kardi’s chest and all of her many knife wounds all seal up. She healed quickly, and she never stopped smiling at Mark. Mark said, “I’m going to kill you someday, Thrashtalon. I’m going to rip you out of the world, and denounce everything about you.”

  Kardi faked a pout, exaggerating for effect.

  Grax acknowledged Mark’s anger with a simple nod. He was proud of Mark. Why the FUCK was he proud of Mark?!

  Thrashtalon proceeded to ignore Mark, and from his quick turn around, and how he grinned at everyone else, Thrashtalon fully expected that answer. He told everyone else, “Then I’ll be tearing down this Gate.”

  “You will not,” Malaqua said, his robotic voice undulating from his blue cubic body.

  “Oh but I will, Malaqua,” Thrashtalon said, turning his full attention on the Stone God, ignoring everyone else. “Because the alternative is worse. If I’m not allowed to participate in the System, if you try to oust me, then that means I won’t be there to see Aluatha and Okuana and Xerkona all perish in fire and kaijus, and I won’t tolerate that. I will rip it all down instead. I will rip open the walls. I will tear down the moon. I will inundate the world with demonic dragons and bring a true apocalypse to us all.”

  “You will not,” Malaqua repeated, and then he continued, “Because you have your champion, in Kardi, and Grax can take her and go out and pick a tree themselves, and that is where this foolishness ends. Mark will not be overseeing Kardi’s healing. Mark will not interfere. In exchange, Mark will stand up and tell Kardi to go pick a tree, and that is all he will do. That will be enough for the ritual. That will be enough for you.”

  Thrashtalon told Malaqua, “And none of the other backups or people on Mark’s team will interfere.”

  As though he had been seen through, and it was to be expected, Malaqua said, “The bargain is set. Will you agree, Mark?”

  “Fuck you, fuck no,” Mark said, standing up despite the pain.

  And then Grax spoke up, “As his adoptive father, I agree for him.”

  “Splendid!” Thrashtalon said, and then he sneered at Malaqua. “That works, right?”

  “What!” Mark exclaimed. “The fuck! He can’t— You can’t—”

  Malaqua responded, “Grax is an elf. Elves are legally allowed to adopt any stray elves they find, as long as those elves are under 150 years of age. Mark is a human. If Mark becomes an elf, then the adoption will go through. But he cannot become an elf, as there are ancient laws against new elf creation, and I have not received the appropriate paperwork to allow for such a breach of law. Therefore, Grax’s adoption is not recognized.”

  Mark didn’t have time to enjoy Malaqua denying Thrashtalon.

  Thrashtalon produced a stack of papers that dripped with long tassels of green and gold and glowed with a great many seals in different waxes. The dark, black script, drank in the light, exactly like Mark’s adamantium did. Thrashtalon proclaimed, “Here are the documents to claim Mark as the adopted elven son of Grax!”

  Grax nodded, though he mostly looked at the other gods in the golden grove.

  His third eye never stopped looking at Mark.

  Mark said about all of this shit, “Now wait a fucking second—”

  “Your paperwork for elven adoption is accepted,” Malaqua said, and the paperwork vanished from Thrashtalon’s hands. “However, Mark is not an elf. So while I will hold these papers and keep them on file, Grax cannot make decisions for a person who is not his son.”

  “I claim that Mark is an elf!” Thrashtalon said, like he was standing triumphant, “Based on his Xerkonan cultural heritage, stemming from his human grandfather’s line, stretching back all the way to the Settlement of Xerkona, and based on his current actions and directions! Mark is an elf, for all necessary purposes of System Law.”

  “Now he’s just making shit up,” Mark said, to anyone who would listen.

  No one was listening.

  Mark yelled, “Grandpa was just in the army! He was from Earth! All of my family was from Earth!”

  Thrashtalon looked like he was a cat with a mouse as he said to Mark, “But they served in the wars in the Reveal, same as most everyone of that age. They bought into the Xerkonan shit, and they brought that culture to your youth. You were raised on Xerkonan etiquette. It’s your primary ideal! That humans should help humans. That’s all it takes! But more than that. More than that nothing of a connection—” He grinned. “The Fates of Xerkona tried to assassinate you as a potential Inheritor of their Old Empire. And then you survived the assassination attempt, thus cementing yourself as an Inheritor of Xerkona.

  “You are, under the System, now an elf in all the ways that matter.

  “That is the ONLY REASON you were able to oust the goblins from Goblinhome! Because you are one of them! They even made you into one of them, temporarily!

  “So it counts.

  “And ohhhh, Mark! I can’t wait to see how you kill them all when you come into your full power, and when they decide they cannot allow you to flourish!” Thrashtalon finished with a devilish grin, saying, “The only one who will hate the Empires more than me, is you. OHHHH, the things they will do to you! Ahhh, yes. It’s all coming together, Mark.” And then Thrashtalon roared at Malaqua, “Accept it!”

  Mark yelled, incoherent and almost insane with rage as he launched at Thrashtalon again.

  He didn’t make it.

  “Stop him from interfering,” Thrashtalon said. “Before I do it again.”

  Suddenly the space between Mark and his targets got way too big. Golden forest rushed by him, keeping him so very, very far from That Which Needs To Die. The space only grew larger as Mark flew faster, but he never got closer to the Betrayer God, who ignored him as one would ignore a bug. Kardi stared at him while she held Thrashtalon’s free hand, grinning all the while. Grax was proud again.

  Mark had no idea what was going on, but it was too much.

  And then soft arms wrapped around Mark, and Mark let himself be settled down.

  It was Freyala, and Mark didn’t want to hurt her at all.

  The moving forest settled down and Mark still stood 20 meters from the Great Enemy and his pawns.

  “The fuck is this shit?” Mark breathed out.

  Freyala whispered into his very soul, “Elves can fight gods a lot more successfully than humans can, Mark.”

  Mark had no idea what to make of that… so he just stood there.

  Everyone stood where they were.

  “Fuck this,” Drakarok said, throwing his spear right at Thrashtalon’s back.

  Space expanded for him, too. His spear never made it more than 5 meters away. Soon, his spear floated back to him, and he reluctantly gripped it again… And then he looked at Mark.

  “Here,” Drakarok said, lobbing the spear toward Mark.

  Mark shot his hand out and grabbed the spear. It was bright and shining, but it turned black as midnight, and then darker, as it did something and became part of Mark, somehow. It twinkled with glints of starlight deep in the black. And then it became a small knife that floated to his side, under his Adamantiumkineiss control.

  Mark would figure that out later.

  Thrashtalon didn’t even look at that happening, for he was still staring at Malaqua, waiting and sneering.

  Everyone waited.

  Malaqua’s blue cubic body flexed. His voice struggled, “I… I cannot… I cannot acce—” He went silent, cutting himself off with garbled noise.

  Thrashtalon told Malaqua, “You have to judge eventually, and nothing will change the outcome of this judgment, Malaqua. Soon the laws against delayed judgment will begin to affect even you.”

  Hearthswell spoke up, “You would break a Worldgate if you don’t get what you want, Thrashtalon? Really? Knowing what it would bring?”

  “I would, and I will,” Thrashtalon said, “So either Mark accepts Kardi into his Second Tutorial here as a valid participant, or I designate him as an elf to the System and make it happen anyway, through Grax, or I start tearing down the System that is trying to oust me, even when I’m following the rules.”

  Mark said, “I will never accept Kardi as anything other than an Enemy of Humanity.”

  Kardi swooned, saying, “God, you’re so fucking hot.” She pulled off the front of her leathers, exposing her breasts, saying, “Stick your fist in my chest again! Rip out my heart again!”

  Her flesh writhed a little.

  Mark glared and tried to walk forward to do exactly that, but Malaqua or someone was making space weird again, and all he succeeded in doing was walk a few steps on a spatial treadmill. He glared. “I’ll behead you later, Kardi.”

  “That’s a promise!” Kardi said, grinning fanatically—

  “I—I—I—” Malaqua cut himself off again, sputtering, twisting, and then he calmed completely. He said, “With much regret, I must accept Grax’s adoption of Mark as an elf, and thus Mark is subject to the rules and regulations of elves, but seeing as how Grax has displayed egregious disregard for the safety of his son, through several attempts at murdering him, I am rescinding his rights as an adoptive parent. Therefore, I cannot accept Grax’s agreement to force Kardi into the Second Tutorial ritual as performed by Isoko Kanno, Andria Metallicmore, Eliot Cybersong, Sally Wuthers, and Tartu Solari, with the ultimate goal of helping Mark Careed attain a Second Awakening.”

  Thrashtalon looked furious—

  Grax was looking at everyone else, except for Malaqua, as he said, “I request a 1-time, special circumstances allowance, as Mark’s father, to give Kardi Shale full rights as the 6th person in Mark’s Second Awakening, to officially grant Mark the status of Inheritor Of Xerkona. All other rights are relinquished, and I will be working on making him into a proper elf, as one does for those they care about. Him and Goofy. Please accept my sincere wishes in this matter. I am doing this for the good of Mark, to make his final outcome that much better and accepted by the System.” Grax added, “There is nothing untoward with me desiring the best for my son, and I do this with full knowledge that he will likely use the power I wish to give him to kill me someday. But it is what I must do as his father.”

  Mark felt like he was having an out of body experience.

  Malaqua flinched, his entire blue stone/crystal body jerking a little, and then he said, “Your desire is accepted by the System and codified into a Ruling. In exchange for giving up your rights as adopted father, Mark and his team will not be allowed to interfere in Kardi Shale’s Second Awakening, and her Second Awakening will be accepted as the 6th person in Mark Careed’s quest to become Inheritor of Xerkona.”

  The golden garden flashed away like a dream returning to reality.

  The golden trees and railgun-seedpods flowed down into their planter boxes, becoming flower bushes once again. The deck of the Dreadnought returned. A lot of things happened, but mostly Mark watched as Thrashtalon stood there, smiling at Mark, as Grax grabbed Kardi and ran fast as a speedster made of light, right past the edge of the ship.

  And then the edge of the ship turned to stars and darkness, and some great stoney-blue hand grabbed the entire ship, and picked it up. Then the hand moved. A layer or three had whipped by out there, beyond the Castellan shield, in less than a moment, the auroras of the stable layers passing by the Dreadnought—

  And suddenly the Dreadnought was in a different layer, somewhere else.

  The sky was blue, the land below was a desert, and Thrashtalon was still there, standing in front of Mark. Kardi and Grax were gone. Most of the other gods were all gone, too. Was Thrashtalon even here? Or was he just a figment?

  Mark stood with Freyala, and Freyala seemed so much more real than Thrashtalon.

  Thrashtalon smirked. “Kill ‘em all, Mark.”

  Thrashtalon stepped away, vanishing in a flicker of black sparks, like a man soaking into a break in the world that Mark had not noticed.

  And then Mark was simply standing with Freyala.

  Everyone on the Dreadnought was understandably freaking out.

  Mark asked Freyala, “The fuck?”

  Freyala had the smallest, quietest grin on her face. And then she wiped that away as though it had never happened. She told Mark, “This was a big win. It would be best if you could pretend like it’s not.”

  Mark was furious at everything, and maybe even Freyala, too, as he yelled, “WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT SHIT?! GRAX CAN’T ADOPT ME! I REFUSE!”

  Freyala nodded. “Just like that, yes.”

  Mark wanted to yell more.

  But Freyala hugged Mark, disintegrating into Elsewhere even as she did so, saying, “I have a plan to kill him and this is one of the worst mistakes I have ever seen him make. Talk to me again when you want to discuss everything, but take a day. Relax and ruminate.”

  And then she was gone.

  Lola rushed in from the side, all worried and terrified, saying things about Thrashtalon and Freyala, while David stepped in for a moment, checking on them and seeing they were fine, before he speedster’d away to check on the others. Eliot said something about needing lookouts on the desert to check for kaiju and Isoko said something about helping. Sally and Derek and Andria were talking about something, too. Something big.

  Mark sent out the recording that Quark had made about all of that back there, because Mark sent out those recordings as a matter of course. But not the last part. Not the one with Freyala saying it had all been a part of a plot. Everyone was talking about all of what had just happened.

  Tartu was still asleep, of course, and though Verdago had left him for a moment, Verdago was back, like golden sap in Tartu’s veins.

  Mark found himself sitting by Tartu, saying, “Gods... I can’t believe Kardi is back. Well… I can, actually… But...”

  And then Mark looked at a fragment of his adamantium that was different from the rest. A spearhead; that's all Drakarok’s spear of suns was right now. It didn’t work against Thrashtalon, but maybe it would work against Kardi.

  Mark told Tartu’s sleeping body, “Maybe this time you can kill her if you can get there before I can, but I think she’s got some sort of Gore Body now. So we’ll figure something out when you wake up.”

  Chapters 382 to 386 on RR correspond to Adblood 65 on Patreon.