Chương 14: Chapter 13 (Part 1)— Questions for a God

Chelsea froze. The words glowed in front of her eyes, unmistakable. It took a beat before the meaning sank in. She groaned, long and frustrated, dragging her hand down her face.

"What is it?" Adriane asked, her voice polite and smooth. Then, remembering Charles the elevator operator, she added quickly, "Miss."

"I have to go back to the room," she replied, still frustrated, dragging a hand down her face as if trying to physically wipe away the day.

"I'm being told to go to sleep now." Adriane gave her a confused look, her brows pulling together.

"Who's telling you to..." The realization hit mid-sentence. Her expression sharpened instantly, the confusion replaced with something far more serious.

"Oh." A beat. Then, more firmly, "Ok... yeah. Back to the guest wing, Charles." The elevator operator didn't question it. He gave a short nod and smoothly reversed their path. The ride back felt longer than before. The quiet pressed in around them, broken only by the faint hum of the mechanism. Chelsea shifted her weight from foot to foot, restless, her mind already racing ahead, questions forming, reforming, tangling over each other faster than she could organize them.

She barely waited for the doors to open before stepping out. They moved quickly through the halls, and the moment they reached the room, Chelsea didn't slow. She darted straight for the bathroom, pushing the door open.

"C'mon." Adriane followed immediately, already lifting a hand in preparation. Chelsea pointed at the wall and made a quick circling motion with her finger. The wall thing. No need for words. A shimmer of yellow spread across the stone as Adriane cast the barrier, sealing them in.

"OK," Chelsea said, spinning back around before the glow had even fully settled.

"What do I need to ask her? I need things to grill her about."

"Grill her?" Adriane repeated, caught slightly off guard. Chelsea waved it away impatiently.

"Ignore that. Focus. If you were me, what do I ask? What don't I even know to ask that could actually matter?" Adriane studied her for half a second, then nodded, stepping into that role without hesitation.

"First... she said she'd explain why you're a demon and why you can't level. That's not optional. Get that answer." Her tone was sharper now, more direct than Chelsea had heard it before.

"Then ask if there's anything she can do about the ailment itself. If she caused it, or even partially caused it, she might be able to fix it." Chelsea nodded quickly, committing it to memory.

"And titles," Adriane continued, pacing once as she thought.

"Ask about titles. If she can grant or modify one, even slightly, it could change everything. If you could equip gear up to level five..." She shook her head slightly.

"That would be a massive jump for you."

"Ok. Got it. Anything else?" Chelsea asked, the words coming faster now, urgency creeping into her voice. This wasn't just curiosity anymore. This was survival. Adriane hesitated this time. When she spoke again, her voice was quieter. More deliberate.

"Ask what happens to you if you die here." Chelsea stilled. The question hung in the air, heavier than the others. She had wondered. Of course she had. But she'd always shoved it aside, assuming the answer was simple. Final. Death was death. But now... if dying here meant going back, back to her world, her life, would that be so terrible? Would that... be better? Her chest tightened slightly.

"Ok," she said, softer now. Her heart had started racing again, but this time it wasn't just fear of failing. It was fear of the answer. Adriane stepped forward and took both of her hands, grounding her in place. Chelsea blinked, pulled back from the spiral of thoughts.

"You've got this," Adriane said, holding her gaze steady.

"Be assertive. Ask what you need to ask. Don't let her dodge anything." Her fingers tightened slightly around Chelsea's.

"She made a mistake. Make sure she knows you're aware of it." This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work. Chelsea swallowed, then nodded firmly.

"Right." Adriane released her hands and flicked her wrist. The yellow barrier dissolved instantly, vanishing like it had never been there. Chelsea straightened slightly, shifting her posture, slipping back into the role.

"I'm so very tired from today," she announced clearly into the room, just loud enough to carry.

"I am going to go lay down." She glanced back at Adriane, a small, conspiratorial smirk tugging at her lips. We're doing this. Crossing the room, she kicked off her slippers and climbed onto the bed. For a moment, she hesitated, adjusting awkwardly before finally giving in and letting her wings unfurl across the mattress. They stretched wide, settling instinctively, more comfortable than keeping them tucked. Her tail gave a small, restless flick before going still. She exhaled slowly, staring up at the ceiling.

Her earlier worry about whether she'd even be able to fall asleep felt almost silly now. She didn't have to figure it out. She had someone waiting on the other side. And, apparently, after Adriane mumbled some words, someone who could put her to sleep. Chelsea opened her eyes to find herself once again standing in the misty, half-formed world. The ground beneath her feet was solid enough to stand on, but everything else felt... incomplete.

Pale fog stretched endlessly in every direction, drifting in slow, lazy currents. Above, the sun pushed weakly through the haze, its light diffused and sickly, casting no real shadows. It felt quieter this time. Too quiet.

"Magalesa?" she called out, her voice sounding strangely muted, as if the fog itself swallowed the edges of it.

"You received my message," the voice replied from behind her. Chelsea turned quickly. Magalesa was already beginning to form, her shape pulling itself together from strands of mist like something being woven into existence. First her outline, then her features, until she stood fully present, just as composed as before, though something about her posture felt... tighter.

"I was worried you might have missed it," the god added.

"I did," Chelsea said flatly, folding her arms slightly. She didn't move closer.

"So?" There was no small talk this time. No curiosity. Just expectation. Magalesa hesitated for the briefest moment before continuing.

"I have your answer." She lifted one hand slightly.

"Let me bring him here." Him? Before Chelsea could question it, Magalesa made a small, almost casual motion with her fingers. The air shifted. The mist in front of them twisted inward, compressing unnaturally, and then... A figure stepped out of it. A tall man. He appeared fully formed, as if he had simply walked through a door no one else could see. His clothing was plain, practical, nothing ornate or divine.

His build was fit but not exaggerated, the kind of strength that came from work rather than training for show. Chelsea's eyes lingered on his face. There was something striking about him, strong jaw, sharp cheekbones, slightly hollowed cheeks. He looked like someone who could have been a rugged ranch hand... or someone who chose to look like one.

"A demon," he said, matter-of-fact. No surprise. No confusion. Just observation. Chelsea stiffened slightly.

"Here he is," Magalesa said, her tone sharpening as she gestured toward him.

"He is the source of all your troubles." The man didn't react immediately. Instead, he glanced sideways at Magalesa, his expression shifting into something openly skeptical, almost unimpressed. Chelsea blinked between them. What?

"You see," Magalesa continued, straightening slightly as she slipped into explanation, "someone in Dryscape, on the same continent as you, attempted a summoning ritual. Their materials were far inferior to what was used for your summoning, yet they managed to perform it simultaneously..." She made a small, irritated motion with her hand.

"... siphoning a portion of your summoning energy to bring... this man." The disdain in her voice was unmistakable.

"This," she added, gesturing more sharply now, "is what turned you from human to demon." Chelsea's gaze snapped back to him. This guy? The man's eyes flicked to Magalesa again, slower this time. Measured.

"Are you the rebirth god of this pantheon, Magalesa?" he asked. His voice was calm. Deep. Controlled. But there was something under it, something heavy enough that Chelsea felt it in her chest more than she heard it.

"I am," Magalesa replied, drawing herself up slightly.

"And shame on you for marring this poor girl's summoning." The man didn't respond immediately. Instead, he turned his head and looked directly at Chelsea. The moment their eyes met, her stomach dropped. There was no hostility in his expression. No anger. But the pressure behind that gaze... It was worse than Adriane. Sharper. Older. Like standing too close to something that could crush her without trying.

"Wait, okay, hold on," Chelsea cut in quickly, raising both hands as if physically stopping the conversation.

"Let's not start assigning blame here." Her eyes flicked between them.

"Who is this guy, and why are you acting like he personally did this to me?" The man's gaze shifted off her just as smoothly as it had landed. Back to Magalesa.

"Magalesa," he said, his tone tightening just slightly.

"What did you do?"

"What do you mean?" she replied, clearly thrown off balance. He turned fully toward her now, his posture straightening. One finger raised.

"Your first mistake," he said evenly, "was reaching beyond your pantheon." Chelsea blinked. Pantheon? Like... different sets of gods? A second finger rose.

"Secondly, you neglected to monitor the process as the summoning became corrupted, yet you allowed it to proceed." Chelsea's eyes snapped to Magalesa. The god's expression... faltered. Her composure cracked just enough to reveal something underneath. He's right. A third finger. His voice sharpened, not louder, but heavier.

"Third, you attempted to shift blame onto me," he continued, "when, as the god of rebirth, you should have been overseeing the process instead of allowing this innocent girl to be transformed into a demon." The words landed hard. He dragged a hand down his face, exhaling slowly, as if reining himself back in.

"How," he muttered, quieter now, "could you make such a colossal mistake?" He pause. Then, more controlled, "There must be a reason." Magalesa looked like she'd just been struck. Her lips parted, but no words came at first. Her eyes darted slightly, like she was searching for something, an answer, an excuse, anything.

"I... I..." she stammered. Chelsea had never seen her look like this, uncertain. Small.

"How..." Magalesa started again, then stopped herself. She inhaled deeply, forcing some level of composure back into place before exhaling slowly.

"This is only my third summoning," she admitted.

"I am a reincarnation god, but an emergency arose, and I had to permit a summoning. There wasn't enough time for someone to grow through a proper reincarnation." Even as she said it, she seemed to realize how it sounded. Her gaze narrowed slightly.

"... Who are you exactly?"

"My pantheon calls us 'magnets.' My name is Gerard," he replied. Magalesa's eyes lit up immediately, far more animated than Chelsea had seen her before.

"You're the merc!?" she almost shouted, excitement breaking through her earlier unease. Gerard gave a small, noncommittal shrug, like the title didn't mean much to him.

"What exactly..." Chelsea started, lifting a hand slightly, but both of them turned to look at her at the same time. She froze mid-gesture.

"Right. My apologies," Gerard said, shifting his attention fully to her. His tone softened, not warm, exactly, but at least directed.

"In basic terms, I am what you might call... a magnet for summonings." He gestured vaguely to the space around them.

"This is my forty-third world. And my forty-fourth summon." Chelsea blinked.

"Whoa. How old are you?" she asked before she could stop herself. Gerard didn't seem offended. If anything, he looked mildly amused.

"After every world, I tally my time," he said.

"Across all of them, I've spent a total of two hundred and six years in other worlds." He paused, then added almost casually, "Back on Earth, I'm only twenty-seven."