Who knows how long this will take… Even if everything goes insane after meeting a deity, I almost prefer this darkness. At least I'm alone.
Riku's thoughts echo in the void.
Suddenly, the darkness fades. He finds himself standing in a dim room, lit only by scattered candles. The air is thick with incense.
"Where… am I now?" he murmurs, already uneasy.
More candles flicker to life, revealing walls carved with ancient bas-reliefs. From the carvings flow small waterfalls that merge into three narrow streams, all running toward the far end of the room, which has no wall at all—only an opening to a star-filled sky.
"Whoa… this place is massive."
He approaches the edge, but when he notices there's nothing beyond it—just empty space—he instinctively steps back.
"Magnificent, isn't it?"
A warm male voice speaks behind him.
Riku jumps, nearly falling forward into the abyss—until an elephant's trunk wraps around his waist and pulls him to safety.
"Hahaha! That was close!" someone laughs.
Riku exhales shakily. I really almost died…
He turns to speak—and freezes.
Towering over him is a three-meter-tall humanoid with the head of an elephant and four arms.
What… what IS that!?
The being looks at him gently, and strangely, Riku's fear begins to fade.
"Let's get to the important part," the creature says. "I am Ganesha, god of wisdom. I am the deity you will represent in your journey." He tilts his head. "You are Amano Riku, correct?"
"Y-yeah… that's me."
Realization punches him in the chest.
Wait—wait—this is Ganesha. A REAL deity. A major one at that.
"I already know enough about you," Ganesha continues. "So let's choose your weapon."
A long table materializes behind Riku, covered in weapons of every shape and size.
"They're incredible…" Riku whispers, stepping closer.
"Choose whichever draws you."
He scans each weapon carefully until a spear catches his eye. Its shaft is engraved with sacred mantras; its gold tip is shaped like a slender palm leaf.
"I like this one."
He picks it up. The spear glows briefly in his hands.
"Val's Spear! Excellent choice," Ganesha says enthusiastically. "Light, versatile… Five others chose before you, yet none even considered it."
Riku looks up.
"Right… but why give me a weapon?"
Ganesha blinks. "Why wouldn't I?"
"Because I won't last in this tournament!" Riku bursts out. "You said you know me already. Someone like me—someone who couldn't even—"
He bites his tongue. "A coward like me has no hope…"
Ganesha is silent. Then he smiles—not mockingly, but with genuine warmth.
"A man is never without hope forever. He only needs to live long enough to find it again. And who better than someone like you—someone starting from zero, searching for meaning? You are my bet, Amano Riku."
The words hit him like a strike.
Is it the divine presence…? Why do those words feel like they're changing something inside me…?
Darkness swallows the room. Before he disappears, he sees Ganesha waving.
"Fight and—"
Riku never hears the rest.
[Unknown Location]
He reappears in a dense jungle full of towering trees.
"So this is Aetherion…" he mutters, disoriented. Then, confused: "Now where do I even go?"
He lifts the spear.
"It's really light," he notes, swinging it through the air. "I need to learn how to use this fast."
A cool breeze brushes past him. There's a scent he recognizes, but can't place.
Footsteps.
Someone's here!
He hides behind a tree. The steps stop.
Maybe they didn't see me—
SNAP.
He steps on a twig.
An arrow slices past him, burying itself into the ground beside his foot.
"Shit!"
He runs. More arrows whistle by, close enough to graze him.
—
"You are my bet, Amano Riku."
—
I'm sorry, Ganesha. Your gamble was too risky!
He sprints desperately—until he smells that familiar breeze again.
That scent…
He changes direction suddenly.
If I can reach her, I can force this guy out into the open!
He pushes through the trees, dodging arrows, until he sees the ocean ahead.
"There—!"
He leaps over a fallen log—and pain explodes in his right leg. An arrow grazes him. He collapses onto the sand.
He tries to crawl away, but the archer finally emerges.
"So that's what it felt like… disgusting," the figure says in a woman's voice.
Riku's blood runs cold.
Celia.
She approaches. He tries to stab her with the spear, but she dodges effortlessly, snatches it, and throws it aside.
Crap—this is bad…
Celia grabs him by the hair, forcing him to look up.
"Yes… that's the face I made back then." Her expression twists with disgust. "At least I had the guts to fight death."
She slams him to the ground and kicks him across the face.
"Tell me your name."
Blood drips from his nose.
Another kick. "I said—your name!"
"…Riku…"
"Pleased to meet you," she says, pressing an arrow to his neck. "I'm Celia. And I'm going to kill you. Just so you know—it'll hurt."
"Why!?" Riku screams.
Celia laughs, unhinged.
"You're asking why? This is our world now! We kill or we die! And I'm going to rule it. You'll be the first."
She raises the arrow—
—
A cold, empty stare. A robber. A friend dying.
—
"I never want to see a face like that again…"
But before she strikes, someone grabs her arm.
"That's a strange way to think," a calm male voice says.
Riku opens his eyes.
A boy stands there, holding Celia's arm effortlessly.
Celia freezes. I didn't hear him coming…
He's about 1.80, short dark hair, eyes shifting between green and brown with the light. His presence is the most striking part: calm, controlled, unreadable.
"I get your logic," he says. "We're supposed to kill each other. Fine. But the part about not wanting to see that terrified face again—that's the odd part."
"And what the hell do you mean!?"
"If someone traumatized you—if someone almost killed you—why would you want to recreate that same moment for someone else? Why become the very thing you fear? Don't you want to forget?"
Celia's breathing becomes erratic. "They brought us here to kill each other! I'm right!"
"Sure. But the gods gave us freedom. Meaning you had a choice. Seems your trauma didn't give you one."
Celia looks into his eyes—and her fury turns into fear.
"You… you have the same expression…"
—
"Don't do it… I don't want to die."
A robber's cold eyes.
"I'm sorry…"
—
"That robber killed my best friend," Celia shouts, struggling wildly. "And he almost killed me too! I'll never let that happen again! I'll be feared! I'll control my life!"
Riku slowly crawls away.
The boy sighs.
"So… there's no saving you."
Her struggles weaken—his grip is too strong.
"So you're telling me… I don't get to control my life now?"
"We never did. Not since we came here. It's not your fault. Not mine. It's the gods' fault."
Celia suddenly lets the arrow slip from her trapped hand to the free one, then lunges forward, trying to catch the boy off-guard.
"Die!"
But the boy sidesteps instantly, never loosening his grip.
Celia grits her teeth and swings again, desperate, but this time he not only dodges—he catches her other arm and twists.
A sickening crack.
Celia collapses backward with a piercing scream, her body curling up on the ground as pain overwhelms her.
"Bastard!"
The boy looks down at her, unfazed.
"Here, there are two ways to survive," he says calmly. "You either rely on luck and pray you make it to the end… or you rely on your own strength and hunt for victory."
He grabs Celia by the collar of her shirt and begins lifting her off the ground.
"And since I'm not the type who relies on luck…"
He raises her until their faces are level. Celia stares back—then her expression shifts into raw, uncontrollable terror.
I was wrong…
This isn't the same look that robber had.
This is the look of someone who truly wants to kill me.
With his free hand, the boy draws a sword: a long, slender blade, forged in bright steel with faint silver-blue reflections, patterned with flowing motifs; the hilt wrapped in black silk and threaded with gold.
He points the sword at her chest.
Celia bursts into tears.
"Not again! Please, no! I don't want to die!"
"I'm sorry…" the boy murmurs—and then drives the blade straight through her heart, killing her instantly.
He lowers her body gently onto the ground.
Riku, who had tied a strip of his torn shirt around his leg wound, had watched everything in shock.
"Hey, you," the boy calls, snapping Riku out of his stupor. "Help me give her a proper burial."
The two dig a grave together. When they finish, Riku stays behind a moment to pray.
Afterward, he stands up. "Don't you pray too?"
"No… I'm not the type who believes in that stuff," the boy says with a faint, ironic tone.
"Not even after seeing the gods with your own eyes?"
"Especially after that."
Riku hesitates, then asks, "So… what do you plan to do with me?"
The boy shrugs. "Nothing. I'm not a monster who kills people at random."
He turns and starts walking slowly toward the jungle. Riku watches him go.
"Thank you…" Riku says, bowing slightly.
"I didn't do anything worth thanking," the boy replies without turning back. "All I did was kill a frightened, confused girl."
"But you saved my life—" Riku tries to take a step but winces as the pain shoots through his leg.
"Don't push yourself. You should hide somewhere until that heals."
Riku looks at him again. "Sorry… can I ask you one more thing?"
The boy stops and glances over his shoulder. "Yeah, go ahead."
"In your opinion… if things had gone differently… could that girl have been saved?"
The boy exhales slowly. "Maybe. But don't dwell on it. That god Bragi said something useful at the beginning: we need to get used to situations like this. Even when you think you can save someone… you have to think twice. Most of the time, you have to put yourself first."
"But I'll never get used to killing people…"
"No one asked you to. But you do have to learn to live with it."
Riku listens to his words, and something in him seems to settle. He turns his gaze toward the sunset reflecting on the ocean.
"Hey," the boy calls out, "try not to die before we meet again!"
He smirks and disappears into the jungle.
"Same goes for you!" Riku shouts back.
Riku looks out over the vast, endless sea.
I'll do everything I can to live without regrets.
For me, this tournament will be the beginning of a second life… and not just for me.