No More Pain For This Villain.

361  Gathering Of The Chosen Ones -2

"Hello, everyone," he said, his voice low but resonant. "Meet your fellow Chosen Ones."

There was a pause as everyone took in the gravity of his words. Adam glanced at the others, his expression unreadable. Amelia crossed her arms, studying Falco with sharp eyes. Vexa's hand instinctively moved to the pendant around her neck, her gaze narrowing.

Devon, leaned back in his chair, his blood-streaked face emotionless. His eyes glowed faintly, betraying a hint of curiosity as he regarded Falco.

"What do you mean by other 'Chosen Ones'?" Adam finally asked, breaking the silence.

Adam, in his last meeting with Falco, was only told that he is a Chosen One by Ellora. But then, what is this about multiple Chosen Ones and gods?

Falco's smile widened. "It means that each of you has been marked by destiny. The gods themselves have selected you for something greater. Something far beyond your current understanding."

"Geb, Neptune, Hera, Aine—" he pointed at each of them one by one, "Ellora and Falkor." After Adam, he ended by pointing at himself.

"These are the gods that created this world and now need you."

Vexa raised an eyebrow, skeptical. "And what exactly does that entail?"

She was just informed by her patron god that she has to follow Adam Stales in his quest, so there being multiple Chosen Ones would've been a shocker if not for what happened this morning.

Falco stepped closer to the group, his hands clasped behind his back. "It means you're no longer mere mortals. You are the ones who will shape the future of this world—whether through destruction or salvation, that is up to you."

There was a murmur of uncertainty among the group, but Falco's voice cut through it like a blade. "You've already felt the power growing within you, haven't you? The changes. The strength. The visions."

Adam exchanged a glance with Amelia, who nodded almost imperceptibly.

Falco continued, pacing slowly in front of them. "Each of you is tied to something far older than any of you realize. Ancient forces. Lost histories. The very balance of the world is now intertwined with your fates."

Devon spoke up, his voice gruff and cold. "And what if we don't want to play your little game? Like, what if I don't want to use the powers bestowed to me by Geb for your purpose, but mine?"

Falco stopped and turned to face him, unflinching. "This isn't a game, Devon. It's a reality you can't escape. Whether you like it or not, the powers within you will continue to grow, and sooner or later, you'll have to make a choice. Fight it, and you may find yourself consumed by it.... Gods aren't the ones you want to fight."

Devon's eyes flickered, but he said nothing.

Falco smiled once more, his eyes gleaming with an almost predatory intensity. "The gods have high expectations of you. But you're not alone. You'll have each other—and me—to guide you."

Vexa, still clutching her pendant, narrowed her eyes. "And what's in it for you?"

Falco's smile faltered for a brief moment, but then he chuckled softly. "What's in it for me? Nothing.... I don't even care what happens to this mortal realm, but my father does, so I have to follow orders."

The room fell into silence again, the weight of his words settling heavily on everyone. The uncertainty, the power, the responsibility—all of it hung in the air, and none of them could shake the feeling that their lives had just changed in ways they couldn't yet comprehend.

Finally, Adam stood, his gaze firm. "What's the next step?"

Falco's smile returned, sharper this time. "The next step, Adam, is to prepare you all for what's to come." He pointed at Adam, "I'll begin by explaining what you all are going to face, and after that, we have a quest."

"And what are we going to face?" Adam asked.

"Demons," Falco said casually. This was the first time the monstrosities that had been attacking cities across the globe were given a name.

Falco began explaining who the nine gods were and what was happening—covering the Demon Continents and other topics—while answering a few questions along the way.

"And why are the demons attacking us? Like, why can't they just revive their god on their own hidden continent and never let us know until he comes down? Like, wouldn't that be better?" Vexa, who had been silent throughout the whole conversation, asked. Nôv(el)B\\jnn

"Because they cannot do that on the Demon Continent. For them to revive Azra, they have to have his body, and the body is not on the Demon Continent... and it cannot be moved. So, he must be revived in the same place where he died," Falco explained.

"And who killed Azra before? Like, before all this..." Adam questioned.

"Erebus, God of Shadows," Falco cleared the doubt but didn't elaborate further.

"Anyway, they are first going to conquer this land and then revive Azra," Falco spoke. "Once Azra comes back, the world is as good as dead."

There was a prolonged silence from everyone before Aron, looking annoyed, opened his mouth.

"Then can't these eight gods kill him? Like, they already outnumber him," Aron questioned.

In response, he was met with a thoughtful gaze from Falco, who opened his mouth and uttered the words, "No, they cannot."

"A god cannot be killed," he said.

Was that true? Or had no one tried hard enough?

Falco's voice broke through the silence. "For the next month, you will be under my inspection," he said, his gaze sweeping over the group. "We leave tonight for Hestia's Deepest Dungeon. Your training will take place there."

He paused, his eyes narrowing slightly as they landed on Adam. "You," he pointed, "are the only one who has not yet received the blessings of Ellora. Your elusive trial is going to take place in the same dungeon."

There was a beat of tense silence before Falco added something unexpected. "However, there's one more thing."

The group looked at him with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion.

"I want each of you to suggest someone—a strong mage. A friend, an ally, anyone you know who is capable. We need strength for what's to come."

A murmur spread through the group. People exchanged glances, thinking deeply. Amelia was the first to speak. "There's a knight from my homeland. A five-star warrior, highly skilled."

Falco didn't even flinch before dismissing it. "Weak," he said coldly, his tone final. "Not strong enough."

Vexa stayed quiet for a moment, her gaze distant. "I don't have anyone," she finally said, but then paused, as if reminded of someone. Before she could continue, Aron interrupted.

"Cecelia," Aron suggested, his voice confident. "She's my personal knight—"

"Rejected," Falco cut in. "She's not what we need."

Devon leaned back, folding his arms. "I know a guy, but he'll refuse. He's working in Viceburg, and there's no way he'll abandon that."

Falco glanced at him but didn't seem interested in following up. Instead, his eyes shifted toward Adam, who had been thinking in silence.

"Mary Klein," Adam finally said, glancing around the group. "And... Isolde."

There was an awkward pause. Falco seemed to completely ignore the mention of Isolde, as if the suggestion hadn't been made at all. His focus sharpened on the first name.

"Mary Klein... the silver-haired girl?" Falco asked, his voice carrying a rare hint of intrigue.

Adam nodded.

Without a word, Falco flicked his fingers, and a shimmering portal appeared in the center of the room, swirling with light. On the other side, they could see Mary, swinging a sword in a training room, beads of sweat running down her face as she focused on her movements.

Falco's voice carried through the portal. "Mary Klein. Step in."

Mary stopped mid-swing, her silver hair damp from sweat, and she turned to face the portal. Without hesitation, she sheathed her sword and stepped through, her expression unreadable as she found herself standing before Falco and the group.

The air in the room grew heavy once more, as they all waited to see what Falco had planned next.