CHAPTER 343: CHAPTER343-THE LETTER FROM THE LUCK GODDESS

For the ceremony of appointing the next Human Emperor, the current Emperor had actually asked Daniel for his opinion.

At first, Daniel’s thought was to let it proceed quietly, with little pomp or fanfare. He preferred things low-key whenever possible.

But almost immediately, another idea occurred to him. Now was the era of the Millennium Apocalypse, and most of the beings of the myriad races were shrouded in gloom and despair. Perhaps, he thought, it would be better to create a celebration. Something bright and festive could lift spirits, ease the suffocating atmosphere, and let the world see hope again.

Once he had the idea, Daniel spoke out directly.

"I believe we should hold a celebration," he said firmly. "Let it take place in Winterhold Castle."

"These days everyone has been far too oppressed, too weary. This is the perfect chance to let them breathe, to relax, and to find joy again."

As he spoke, he simultaneously willed his avatar in the Undead Lands to act. Through that body, he used his evolved resurrection arts to bring back the fallen demigod-rank powerhouses who had died in past battles.

In earlier times, this would have been impossible. With his former strength, Daniel could never have revived a demigod. But since completing the Star Upgrade Quest and raising his level to 200, his resurrection had transformed. The spell had gained new authority, and now even demigod-level beings could be returned to life.

Before long, those demigods were restored to the Myriad Races Continent. Souls reknit, bodies reformed, they opened their eyes once again. Though mountains and rivers lay between them and Daniel, instinctively their gazes turned toward him.

Their voices rang out together, carrying awe and loyalty.

"Thank you, great Lord Daniel."

"It is you who gave us life again. You who granted us freedom. We shall follow your steps forever."

...

Far away, in the depths of the abyss, the Dark Star Jarvan was still steadily drawing strength from the corpse of the Sun-god Apollo.

At the same time, he worked carefully to contain the Filth of God that Apollo had borne.

Even for him, such filth could never be touched directly. To touch it was to invite endless corruption. So Jarvan created a pocket of space within his own body, tearing open a dimensional cavity where he cast the filth inside.

Once sealed there, the worst of its malignant influence vanished, leaving him able to function without drowning in its corruption.

And yet, even so, he could still sense faint streams of that foul essence sliding quietly through his own body. Small, but undeniable.

There was nothing he could do about it. Apollo had carried far too much of the Filth of God. That alone proved his intent—he had come to this battle already prepared to die.

He was carrying so much filth that his strategy had been suicide from the very beginning. Even Jarvan, master of darkness, dared not absorb it all.

The remainder, which could not be contained, still lingered. And it seemed to harbor the faint tendency to gather together, slowly, inexorably.

But thanks to the interference of Daniel and Jarvan, the pace of that gathering had been slowed to a crawl. For now, at least, it posed no immediate threat.

At that moment, Daniel’s figure flickered into being, and he once again appeared in the abyss.

He turned his eyes toward Jarvan and spoke.

"Jarvan, how are things progressing?"

The Dark Star lifted his gaze. Out of habit, he activated his Insight ability, trying to peer into Daniel’s strength.

But the result stunned him.

All he saw was mist. Endless mist.

It was as if Daniel was both fully concealed and fully revealed at once. A paradox that defied sense.

Not long after, another figure appeared. Milla had arrived.

But as soon as she felt the aura radiating from Daniel, her body shuddered uncontrollably.

She tried to steady herself, tried to trust her intuition. Her instincts had always been sharp, always correct. She had relied on them countless times. But facing Daniel now, her confidence shattered.

From her perspective, what she saw simply should not exist. Daniel’s presence was a contradiction. In one breath, he appeared no different from an ordinary man, fragile and powerless. And yet, she knew very well he could not be ordinary.

After all, what common mortal could cross unstable portals without harm, ignoring spatial turbulence? What ordinary human could slay Aurelia, the leader of the Angels of Gold and Silver? Such feats were impossible for any man.

Milla touched her nose lightly, steadied her breath, and asked with uncharacteristic hesitation.

"Lord Daniel... have you become a god?"

Daniel only smiled faintly, nodding.

"Yes. Pure luck, nothing more."

Hearing this, Milla’s face lit with excitement, a wide grin spreading.

"Hah! Then this is cause for great celebration indeed! Congratulations, Lord Daniel, on stepping onto the path of the gods!"

Her tone shifted, more serious now. She reached into her robes and drew out an envelope wrapped in plain brown parchment.

"By order of Her Majesty, the Luck Goddess, I was told to deliver this into your hands."

Daniel accepted it, curiosity stirring. He broke the seal and drew out a sheet of pure white paper.

His brow furrowed immediately. There was nothing written. Not a single mark.

Milla noticed his expression and raised her hands with a helpless shrug.

"This isn’t a prank. It’s a condition set by Her Majesty herself. The words are hidden in such a way that only you can see them. To me, it is forever blank."

Daniel’s mouth twitched slightly.

So to her eyes it was empty. Did she expect his to be any different?

Just what game was the Luck Goddess playing at?

But then he felt it. A subtle stirring on the page.

Strange lines of text began to form, words written in a script he had never seen before.

And yet, somehow, he understood them perfectly.

[Upon reaching the rank of Demigod, you will face a most important choice. Which divine seat will you take as your next step? This decision must follow your heart.]

[If you desire to become a god, there are three possible ways. But the first path has vanished completely. Only two remain.]

[I can tell you clearly: aside from the very first gods, all of us ascended by the same method. Of course, the Mist is an exception.]

[But even so, let me speak plainly—this path is the worst of the three.]

Daniel froze as he read. A thought stirred in his mind.

The Mist Goddess.

Just what was she? What kind of existence could she be, that even among gods she remained cloaked in unfathomable mystery?

Even the Luck Goddess, who wrote these words, admitted to knowing little about her.

And as that thought settled, the letters on the page began to shift again, changing into new lines of meaning before his eyes.