CHAPTER 59: A TALE OF TWO GODS.

Nero emerged from the temple into the gathering darkness.

A few days had passed since he had come to this place.

In the end, he had scoured the entirety of this strange town slapped right in the center of this lush field within a world covered in darkness.

He had spent most of his time within the strange temple.

Most of the information he could get his hands on were scribbled onto ancient scrolls and stone tablets. Although most of them were destroyed beyond repair, he had a good time analyzing and digesting the readable stuff he found.

During that time, he found a relatively nice house located close to the temple, but eventually just moved into the temple.

Sealed in the ancient text was wisdom he was mostly unable to understand.

However from what he could tell— the Ancient Elkerlings were a community of scribes and hunters.

Because of the nature of the terrain at that time, farming has been difficult to pull off. However thanks to the godtree, Sariel, they were able to thrive thanks to the power of its divine influence.

And in the wake of all that, they had discovered another god— Orion, the brother of Sariel.

According to the ancient texts, Orion had come from the heavens after a hunter had gazed at the stars.

Overwhelmed by the mysteries of it, he had set himself ablaze as an offering to call down the god that dwelt within them.

As such, Orion, the keeper of the Stars had come.

The more he thought about it, the more he figured Sariel and Orion could very well have been two sides of a single Divine being.

Leaning against a wall, Nero slurped down the last piece of Abomination meat.

Licking the bitter oils off his fingers, he put away the last scroll and set it aside,

"Again just a bunch of records."

Nero had always been curious. Back when he had been tasked with the cleaning of the church’s inner chamber at Gor, he had been fond of sneaking into the Priest’s stash of hidden knowledge.

Because of this, he was far more learned and curious than the average person.

He let out a sigh.

This has been an unexpected boon. He had gained so much in such a short time, it felt like a dream.

His understanding of the world he lived in had increased significantly as well.

Not only did the ancient Elkerlings study the stars, they were also sure to make detailed records of their other observations.

And combined with the knowledge their traveling Deity brought them from all over the world, they were a pretty learned bunch.

"The sky is a boundless canvas. And the stars are points on the canvas that tell the story and the divide between the past, present and future." Was the most stated ideology of the ancient human scribes.

And while that had been quite difficult to understand, eventually, he had gotten it.

In the end, he hadn’t realized how much time had passed inside, lost in the murals and inscriptions.

Stepping out of the temple, he could see the grey sky had deepened to charcoal, and the verdant field seemed to have lost all color, becoming a study in shades of grey and black.

The dead Godtree was barely visible in the distance, a darker shadow against the darkness.

The night wind was luscious and breathtaking. Almost lethally so...

The night sky was dotted in the crystal stars, their light guiding beacons.

He stretched his stiff body and let out a yawn.

This moment of respite he found, had healed some wounds he didn’t even know he had.

The constant grip of survival around his throat had been suffocating. This serenity he felt, was rather addicting because of it. So much, he didn’t think he wanted to leave anymore.

He pursed his lips and looked into the skies.

That’s when he heard it.

A groan. A sound of deep resonance, coming from the direction of the Godtree. Nero furrowed his brows and turned his gaze.

The large godtree swayed in the evening wind eeriely. However, the groaning sound only continued to grow in intensity.

Then came the snapping.

Nero’s eyes widened. It was the sharp crack of ancient wood breaking.

’Fucking hell...’

Nero stopped walking.

The groaning intensified, becoming a chorus of sounds that seemed to emanate from the very earth beneath his feet.

Then more snapping and tearing. The dead tree was coming alive with motion.

But it was not the good kind of motion.

Perhaps after the centuries of strain, the dried, dead branches had finally had enough and could no longer bear the burden of their own weight.

Against every instinct screaming at him to run, Nero changed direction and began walking toward the godtree.

As he drew closer, he could see it more clearly. The corpse of the godtree was moving. Not swaying or settling, but actively moving. Chunks of blackened bark were falling away, revealing the hollow interior. The trunk, which had been sealed and solid for millennia, was opening.

Nero approached cautiously, keeping his distance. The tree groaned again, and with it came a sickening sound—something massive shifting within the hollow core, something that had been brooding within the dead wood.

Nero watched, his eyes wide in horror as swirling in the depths of the darkness...

Something shot out.

An arm of blackened stone.

Around it, viscous dark fog swirled.

The fat arm of stone rose first, pulling the profane horror that was itself out of the godtree’s hollow like a grotesque birth. Its massive form was covered in the tree’s rotten bark, in sap that had turned black and viscous. In its right hand was a goblet filled to the brim with a dark, viscous fluid.

Nero felt the world come to a halt.

As though a switch had been flipped and all sound ceased to exist. The grass stopped moving. The wind died. Even Nero’s breathing became muted, as though the earth itself was refusing every whisper.