CHAPTER 263: CHAPTER 262 - TALK NONSENSE UNTIL IT WORKS.

For a long beat, Raven didn’t move.

His hand hovered near the white stone slab, his eyes fixed on the goddess’s sleeping form. On the outside, he looked calm, even serene, like a man standing on the edge of a decision, measuring the leap.

Inside?

Absolute chaos.

"BROOOO!" Omni’s voice boomed inside his head like a stadium mic. "That’s a god-corpse, dawg! You don’t just walk up to that and be like ’Yeah, lemme pledge my soul to it’! What is this, a cult for attractive dead ladies?!"

’Keep it down!’ Raven hissed mentally, wincing. ’You’re gonna make me look crazy.’

"You are crazy if you’re even considerin’ it! Look at that divine residue! That’s not holy light—it’s shadow sludge with glitter!"

Raven frowned just a little.

Out loud, Ivelia’s voice floated gently from the chamber’s walls.

"...What’s wrong, Raven?" She asked, her tone soft, patient—almost motherly. "Is something troubling you?"

Raven didn’t reply. Not because he was being mysterious.

But because Omni had gone full sermon mode.

"Bro, that ain’t clean divinity. That’s that grimy, back-alley, knockoff god-juice. You know what that kind of divinity’s made of? PAIN. FEAR. REGRET. That woman’s entire godhood is stitched together from the prayers of the broken!"

’Wait, what?’ Raven blinked, still internally.

"You heard me. She ain’t powered by worship from joy and gratitude. Naw, she feeds on the cries of her followers, on the desperation of the hopeless—her power’s thick with grief, man. You ever sniff a prayer? I have. Hers smells like burnt rain and funerals."

Raven didn’t know how to respond to that.

Out loud, Ivelia spoke again, sounding interested this time.

"You’ve gone silent... Are you hesitating? Is the oath too difficult?"

Raven just stood there, mouth in a line, hand still inches from the stone.

Inside, Omni kept going.

"Let me lay it out for you, homes. She’s not a normal goddess. That’s not some clean, light-spun divinity. That’s old fear power. That’s ’I lost my whole village and prayed with my last breath’ power. That’s the kind of god who answers prayers in exchange for nightmares."

’She didn’t seem like a bad girl, though,’ Raven muttered, even though his eyes had narrowed in suspicion.

"That’s the gig, bro. She’s gotta look divine to sell the brand. You think she’s gonna show up in rags and say, ’Hi, I’m powered by existential horror’? Naw. She wraps herself in silver hair and moonlight and acts like she’s so above it all. But I see it. I feel it. That divine stink is rotten."

Raven slowly, very slowly, withdrew his hand from the slab.

"Smart move,"

Omni muttered. "Any closer and she might’ve tagged you with that shady gospel. And if that happened, well..."

Omni paused.

’What?’

"...Omni goes snip-snap. I’m out. Dead. Bye-bye."

Raven already knew that, and that was why he hesitated before. Now, he had many more reasons not to become this so-called goddess’s apostle.

Raven sighed inwardly, his internal voice dry. ’So you’re telling me that I was this close to considering accidentally soul-binding myself to an emotional vampire?’

"Worse. A political emotional vampire. Don’t let the sleepy face fool you. That’s the kind of goddess who writes tragedies and calls ’em sermons. She’s an evil god, bro."

Raven straightened up at last, brushing imaginary dust from his sleeves.

"Sorry," he said aloud, his voice perfectly casual. "Had a moment of divine indigestion."

Ivelia’s voice echoed again, tinged with amusement. "You are a strange man, Raven Vaise."

"Yeah," he muttered, turning away from the platform. "That’s what they tell me."

He began strolling around the chamber, not heading for the exit—but not approaching the altar again, either.

’What do I do now?’ He whispered to Omni. ’I can’t just reject her outright or she’ll lock me in here forever.’

"Then stall," Omni said. "I gotta look into what kind of divinity she might have, ’cause although I can cut through anything, this body right here could be a clone made of her divinity. If that’s the case... slicing it might just piss her off without doing jack."

’Stall?’ Raven groaned. ’How do I stall a goddess?’

"Well, I don’t know, man," Omni shrugged. "Do your thing."

’Which is?’

"Talk nonsense until something explodes."

Raven exhaled. Yep. That sounded about right.

He turned slightly, giving the altar a casual glance. "So, Ivelia... Before I do anything rash, mind telling me what kind of prayers you answer?"

There was a pause.

Then, she replied, "All of them."

Raven’s eye twitched. ’Oh yeah. Definitely evil.’

Omni snorted.

"Told you, bro. That’s the customer service line of the damned."

With that, Raven Von Vaise was officially doing what he did best: Talking complete nonsense.

"So you’re telling me," Raven said, arms folded as he slowly paced around the edge of the chamber, "that if someone prays for a cheeseburger with extra pickles and a side of divine justice, you deliver?"

From the glowing white chamber walls, Ivelia’s soft, melodious voice rang out like a lullaby dipped in silver. "I answer the prayers that matter. Those born from heartache. From desperation. From truth."

Raven raised an eyebrow. "So no burgers."

"I do not manifest fast food."

"Shame," Raven muttered. "You could’ve cornered the market."

Inside his mind, Omni was silent for now, deep in analysis mode. Raven could feel the divine tool’s thoughts flickering like pages flipping rapidly in a cosmic book.

Meanwhile, Ivelia continued, gentle and persistent. "Raven. The oath is but a formality. Take the step. Become my apostle. Then, all questions will be answered."

Raven chuckled. "That sounds like what a cult leader would say. Next, you’ll be handing me a silver robe and a cup of suspiciously sparkly tea."

She laughed lightly at that. It was warm. Endearing.

Yet...

Raven’s eyes narrowed just a bit more.

The longer he talked to her, the more his gut screamed that something was off. She was pressing too hard and smiling too much.

Her insistence on the apostle thing was less divine calling and more aggressive marketing.

He could now tell why she wasn’t able to sense Graye’s divine tale and the divinity bombs his group had on them.

That was because her divinity didn’t resonate with them. Her divinity, evil and murky, avoided the good divinity like it were a plague.

Therefore, she couldn’t understand what was going on.

Yeah, sure. Graye’s case would be easy to understand since only tales could give that kind of power-up, but would an evil goddess with a corrupt mindset believe that a mortal had a tale?

Never.

Despite all that, she was pretending to be a goddess of Light and Hope?

If she were that, then Raven was a nun.

’Wait, nun? Shouldn’t I be a saint?’

Still, he kept talking. Distracting. Prodding.

"So, do your followers get a benefits package? You know, healing powers, shiny robes, immortal health insurance?"

"Devotion is its own reward," she replied calmly.

He snorted. "Spoken like someone who’s never paid taxes."

Omni stirred.

"Yo."

Raven almost stumbled mid-step. ’Yeah?’

"That’s her."

’...What?’

"That’s her real body on the slab. No projections. No doppelgangers. No remote-control goddess-bot."

Raven blinked, slowing his walk. His pulse picked up.

’You’re sure?’

"One hundred percent. I scanned the divinity threads. It’s all converging there. No backup body. No divine echo. That’s her."

Raven’s eyes gleamed for a moment, his heartbeat quickening—not in fear, but in opportunity.

’So I just have to—’

"Wait, wait, hold your excitement," Omni interrupted.

’Oh no.’

"She sacrificed all her tales."

’...What?’

"Yeah, gone. Vaporized. She fed ’em into the ruin itself to become invincible here. No stories, no timelines. Just raw, uncut divine paranoia. She’s not immortal—she’s untouchable. In here, at least."

Raven’s glowing gaze dimmed immediately. He groaned internally.

’So she’s... invincible? That’s it?’

"Bro. Did you forget who you’re talking to? I’m your sword. I’m Omni, the All-Slicer. Divinity or not, evil or pure, makes no difference to me. That divine shield she’s wrapped in? I eat that for breakfast."

Raven stopped in his tracks, letting his fingers lazily trail across the edge of a glowing pillar, masking the tension growing in his frame.

’So what you’re saying is... I can kill a goddess.’

"If you can get close enough to slice her neck, yes."

’You make it sound so easy.’

"You’re the one always bragging about your assassination skills. Live up to the hype, Mr. Edgelord."

Raven’s eyes flicked back to the slab, where Ivelia’s form still lay—beautiful, glowing, peaceful.

But he knew that she was utterly deadly.

’She’ll sense it if I so much as breathe wrong near her,’ he thought grimly.

Omni replied, "Exactly. That’s the catch. You have to make her want you close. Relaxed. Unaware. You get one shot, one swing. But if she catches even a whisper of intent—poof. You’re pudding."

’And what am I supposed to do? Walk up there with finger guns and a charming smile?’

"Yes. Charm her. Distract her. Play the game. Just don’t think about slicing her too loud, or she’ll hear you. Gods have freaky ears."

Out loud, Raven plastered on a relaxed grin. "You know, Ivelia, I’ve been thinking. Becoming an apostle? It’s a big step. Maybe if we got to know each other first. What’s your favorite color? Favorite book? What’s your stance on pineapple pizza?"

She giggled softly. "You are unlike any follower I’ve ever met."

"Not a follower. More of a... divine pen pal." Raven winked.

She said nothing.

He took a few steps closer.

’Okay, step one: get within range,’ he thought. ’Step two: make her trust me. Step three: slice and pray Omni doesn’t miss.’

Which brought him to the real question:

’How the hell am I supposed to get my sword to her neck without dying first?!’