Chapter 105: Ch 105 : A teacher
"I have chosen my path," Light’s voice was a quiet but resolute whisper that seemed to echo in the grand halls of his family’s palace.
He immediately contacted Rem through the system, his message concise and filled with a newfound certainty.
That very night, she would come for him, and take him to the divine library.
His decision, once a tornado of conflicting duties, royal expectations, and the haunting whispers of a past life, was now as clear and sharp as a shard of glass. He would become a teacher.
The weight of his past life as Aerion, a demigod of spirit race and bloodshed, was a ghost that no longer haunted him but instead served as a solemn guide.
The grace shown to him by God Cosmos was a cleansing light, a second chance at redemption that he would not spoil.
He would repay that grace not with tribute or monuments, but by nurturing the seeds of greatness in others.
Armed with his profound S-Grade Comprehension, he would forge geniuses.
He would craft methods and techniques so elegant and intuitive that even the most ordinary lifeform could rise to become an expert, ensuring the future of the empire was built on a foundation of shared strength, not just the power of a select few.
That night, as promised, a cool, unseen breeze drifted through his chambers.
Light felt a gentle but irresistible pull, not on his body, but on his very soul.
He looked down to see his physical form resting peacefully on the bed as his ethereal, shimmering self was drawn upward.
Before him stood Rem, the Host Seer, a gentle smile on her face.
Without a word, the world dissolved around him, replaced by the silent, star-dusted majesty of the Divine Library.
He was led to a quiet chamber deep within the celestial archives, where a figure sat in quiet contemplation.
"So, you have chosen the path of a teacher," the senior said, his voice echoing the wisdom of ages. "It is your own choice, and I am pleased you have chosen a path of creation in this life, not destruction." It was Isiah, the demigod of knowledge.
Light knowing who this senior was, bowed and greeted him gently.
Isiah nodded and With a slow, deliberate movement, the he reached up and opened his blindfold.
Light braced himself, but what he saw was not terrifying, but awe-inspiring. Isiah’s eye sockets were voids of pure, milky-white light, containing no pupils, no irises, only the serene glow of infinite knowledge.
A brilliant ray of this light emanated from those eyes, piercing Light’s ethereal form.
It was not a physical sensation, but a torrent of pure information flooding his soul, a blessing of unparalleled value that felt like having the entire library’s index downloaded directly into his consciousness.
"From this day forward, you only need to think of the knowledge you seek within this library, and it shall be yours," Isiah explained, describing the downgraded but still potent version of his own ’Preserver of Knowledge’ talent.
"It will, of course, consume some of your mana, a small price for infinite wisdom."
"I thank you, Demigod of Knowledge, for this wonderful gift," Light said, his gratitude genuine and overwhelming.
This blessing was not just a tool; it was the key to his very soul’s desire, the ultimate instrument to fulfill his newfound purpose.
While one soul found its noble purpose in the pursuit of knowledge, another, billions of light-years away in a different corner of the multiverse, wrestled with the very nature of his divine existence.
"What can I do? My very talent is a monument to evil," a God sighed, the sound heavy with a weariness that transcended time.
He was Asura, one of the few whose power Thea had not yet fully analyzed, for his talent was as secretive as it was potent.
She had, however, marked him as an SS-Grade holder, a classification deduced from his unusual and inexplicable faith generation.
In Thea’s vast analytical matrix, talents below SS-Grade were largely mortal in scope—they enhanced physical performance or accelerated progress.
But SS-Grade talents were a different beast entirely.
They were engines that produce faith at an alarming pace, powers that altered the fundamental mechanics of faith generation itself.
Joker’s ’Roaster’ talent, which turned mockery into faith, was a prime example.
Asura’s faith gain showed a similar secondary source that Thea’s logic could not yet place.
His talent was called ’Evildoer’. As an SS-Grade ability, it was terrifyingly simple: it generated faith points from the evil deeds committed by his lifeforms.
A murder, a betrayal, a simple act of cruelty—each was a drop of fuel for his divine engine. He could have become one of the most powerful Gods in existence.
But Asura, despite his ferocious name, was a gentle soul.
Just yesterday, he had watched two of the clans in his world prepare for a bloody war over a fertile piece of land.
The ensuing conflict would have filled his coffers with faith, but he couldn’t bear it.
He sent a subtle divine revelation, a dream of a shared harvest, that steered them toward peace and cooperation.
He was a soft-hearted being who chose to teach his creations morals, a paradox of divine existence.
"Should I join Cosmos?" he thought, the idea a constant, tempting whisper.
His primary concern was not power, but the protection of his people.
The looming threat of demon invasions was a shadow that fell over every independent God.
The worlds nestled within Sunny’s subspace, however, were a sanctuary.
They were disconnected from the demonic realm, a safe harbor in a cosmic storm.
This single perk had turned Sunny’s small universe into the most sought-after destination in the multiverse.
The two billion requests still pending in Sunny’s private messages were a testament to that.
Sunny himself was currently preoccupied, his faith reserves nearly depleted and as his clones tirelessly worked to comprehend the profound laws of manifestation.
All these requests for sanctuary remained, for the moment, unanswered.
In the end, finding no other path that guaranteed the safety of his people, Asura made his choice.
He, too, sent a request to God Cosmos, a plea to become his subordinate.
He was not alone. Countless other Gods, seeing the initiative of more than half of the Gods, were doing the same.
Being a subordinate to Cosmos offered two things no other alliance could: absolute protection and continued sovereignty over their own worlds. It was a deal too good to refuse.
In Sunny’s God space, a shimmering projection of Thea watched the influx of a billion new requests.
A small, knowing smile graced her ethereal lips. "In a few more days," she mused to herself, "most of these remaining Gods will become subordinates of my master. The pantheon that he wished for will be complete before the tenth day ends."
Her projection then dissolved, melting back into the vast, silent expanse of the God space, leaving only the quiet hum of the Sunny, comprehending the law of manifestation.