CHAPTER 35: TRUE NATURE OF GODS

"What did you learn in the first place that even made gods feel threatened?"

Her gaze sharpened like a blade. "Immortality."

Oliver almost jumped. "Immortality?!!"

"Yes. Immortality," she said calmly, as though it were the simplest thing in the world. "When I delved deeper into body-modification runes, I reached the pinnacle of creation. The point where the soul, body, and mana could be forced into an eternal circuit."

Oliver blinked in disbelief.

"I created a penta-layered array carved into both soul and flesh," she continued, her voice taking on a rhythm like a scholar lecturing. "It consisted of five fundamental runes. Together, they formed what I called the Immortality Circuit."

She raised her hand as if tracing invisible glyphs in the air.

"First, the [Rune of Eternum]. It binds the soul permanently to the body. Even if flesh is destroyed, the soul acts as a blueprint to rebuild it."

"Second, the [Rune of Vitae], meaning endless vitality. It forces the body to regenerate endlessly, fueled by mana. Wounds close. Organs regrow. Diseases are burned out."

"Third, [Rune of Aeternus], meaning ageless form. It halts cellular decay, stops the erosion of time, and locks the body in its prime."

"Fourth, [Rune of Nexus]. It anchors the bearer to the world’s mana flow. Even if they run dry, the rune pulls a trickle of energy from the environment to keep the circuit alive."

"And lastly, the [Rune of Rebirth]. The final safeguard. If the body and soul are utterly destroyed, the rune reconstructs everything from pure mana, resurrecting the bearer."

She lowered her hand, her eyes gleaming with pride. "True immortality. Unkillable, unless the runes themselves are erased. That was my creation."

Oliver’s jaw nearly hit the floor. "Wait—wait, wait. That’s insane. You’re saying a few... squiggly lines carved into a body can make someone live forever?!"

Her glare silenced him instantly. "Not ’squiggly lines,’ boy. Runes are not mere symbols. They are the essence of existence itself. The laws of the universe, written in a language mortals were never meant to read. When properly understood, they are more fundamental than magic, more absolute than divine decree."

Oliver swallowed. "...Okay. Fair. But still, immortality? That sounds like the kind of fairy tale."

Her lips curled into a smirk. "And yet, I am the proof. I have been sealed for centuries—without food, without water, without air—and I stand before you now, unaged, untouched. I look twenty, and I will always look twenty." She tilted her chin up proudly.

"Damn..." Oliver muttered, then grinned. "So you’re basically my great-great-great-great-grandma times a hundred, huh?"

BAM!

Her fist smashed down on his head with enough force to rattle his teeth.

"AGHHH!" Oliver clutched his skull.

"It’s very rude to tell a woman she is old," she said, turning her face away with a huff, cheeks puffed in annoyance.

"Okay, okay, I’m sorry!" Oliver quickly raised his hands. "Who would ever call you old? You’re twenty, and you’ll always be twenty. That’s every woman’s dream."

Isolde’s lips twitched, the corners of her mouth betraying a smile. "Hmph. You’ve got a silver tongue when you need one."

Oliver chuckled nervously, rubbing his sore head. But the curiosity burning inside him refused to settle. He leaned forward again.

"But then... why did the gods massacre your race? How does you achieving immortality threaten them? Wouldn’t they just... ignore it?"

"Those gods are not as benevolent as they pretend to be," Isolde said, her tone sharp. "They are more selfish than any mortal race. Don’t be fooled by the titles—’holy,’ ’divine,’ ’saviors.’ They are not some untouchable beings of light. They are simply another race. The only difference is that they come from a higher realm called Elysium."

Oliver frowned. "Elysium?"

"A world layered above this one. Their energy system is different—purer, stronger. They call it divine mana. That’s all that sets them apart." She leaned back, arms crossed. "But the one thing that truly elevated them wasn’t divine mana. It was their immortality. As long as they couldn’t die, they stood unchallenged. High and mighty. Untouchable."

Oliver’s eyes narrowed as he pieced it together. "...But if someone else gained immortality—"

"It would threaten their hegemony," she cut in, her eyes gleaming.

Oliver let out a slow breath. "So that’s why."

"Exactly." Her voice dripped with bitterness. "I had the power to make my entire race immortal. Do you think gods would allow that? No. They branded us heretics, monsters, ’a great evil sealed away.’ Lies to justify their fear. In the end, my people’s thriving kingdom became nothing more than a graveyard. And me—the one who had achieved what they feared most—was sealed within it as a prisoner."

Oliver clenched his fists. "But... why massacre everyone? They could have just sealed you away, killed anyone who knew, destroyed all records. That should’ve been enough, right?"

Isolde stared at him for a long moment. Then, suddenly, she laughed. A sharp, humorless laugh that echoed through the cavern. "Hahaha... Oh, Oli. You’re so naïve." Her laughter carried both amusement and scorn. "You still don’t understand the sinisterness of this world."

Oliver flinched slightly at the sound, but stayed quiet.

"They didn’t just want to eliminate the threat," she said coldly. "They wanted to make an example. To show every kingdom, every race, every scholar what happens when you dare to touch what belongs to the gods."

Her hands clenched on her lap. "And above all, they feared the Umbrals themselves. Runes flowed in our blood, came as naturally to us as breathing. Even if I were gone, someone else from my people could eventually rediscover what I had achieved. So they cut us down to the roots, burned every branch, and salted the earth."

Oliver’s jaw tightened, his fists balling at his sides. "Those... hypocritical bastards." His voice trembled with fury. "I never liked her since the day she gave me that trash class, but now—just remembering her makes my blood boil."

"No..no my boii. I think you are misunderstanding something here." Isolde interrupted Oliver, "As I said Gods are just some other race from upper realm. Not some divine beings. SO they don’t have the ability to bestow something like class or skills to anyone."

"No, no, my boii," Isolde interrupted sharply, raising a finger. "You’re misunderstanding something here. Didn’t I already say it? Gods aren’t divine beings. They’re just another race from an upper realm. Stronger, yes. Arrogant, yes. But not all-powerful. They don’t have the ability to grant classes or skills."

Oliver blinked. "What?"

"The skills are something granted by the world itself," Isolde explained with certainty. "They’re bound into the very fabric of the world itself. People are born with them. They are not gifts anyone can hand out, not even the gods."

"What do you mean?" Oliver’s confusion deepened. "Then what’s this whole sham about gods granting blessings? About them choosing heroes? What about me and my whole class awakening? You mean to say everyone was just born with it? That bastard Daniel was born a hero, Jason was born a knight... and I was born trash?"

"Calm down, Oli." Isolde’s tone softened, though her words remained firm. "It might hurt, but yes—that’s the truth."

"Nonsense!" Oliver snapped back, shaking his head. "My world didn’t even have this system. No classes, no skills. Everyone was just... human. Normal. We only awakened after we were summoned. You expect me to believe we were ’born’ with this crap?"

Isolde let out a long sigh, then leaned forward, her crimson eyes locking onto his. "Put aside your ego and think, boy. If the gods could simply hand out skills, why would they bother dragging people from other worlds? Why not bless their own loyal believers instead of relying on foreigners with strange faiths and different ideologies?"

Oliver froze. Her words slithered into his mind like poison, forcing him to confront the cracks in his beliefs. Slowly, his anger cooled, replaced with thought.

Seeing his expression soften, Isolde smiled faintly and continued, "Your world must be superior to this one. People from higher realms are born with stronger latent skills. But those skills remain sealed unless awakened by mana. Without mana, they’ll stay hidden forever."

Oliver’s eyes widened as the pieces began to fall into place. "And when we were summoned... that goddess must’ve injected us with divine mana which is much purer than the mana of the world. That’s what triggered our latent classes."

"Exactly." Isolde gave a satisfied nod.

"And all this time..." Oliver muttered bitterly, "we thought we were chosen, blessed by her hand. When in reality—"

"—you were just tricked into believing a lie," Isolde finished. Her lips curled into a mocking smile.

Oliver let out a humorless laugh. "Ha... ha... We were so damn naïve."

"Well," Isolde shrugged playfully, "you are naïve. But at least you’re learning."

She leaned back, folding her arms, then tilted her head curiously. "By the way... you keep ranting about having a trash class, but you never actually told me what it is. What exactly did you get, hmm?"

"Oh? Did I not mention it?" Oliver smirked faintly, his mood shifting. "Alright then. Let me show you."

With a wave of his hand, the familiar translucent blue screen shimmered into existence. He shared his status window.

Isolde’s crimson eyes scanned it—then widened. Her jaw tightened, and before she could stop herself, a sharp gasp escaped her lips.

"What...!"

The exclamation echoed in the chamber, heavy with shock.