Chapter 4: Talentless
Kage fixed the Sovereigns with a steely, decisive gaze—well, metaphorically fixed them.
They stared back, wearing different expressions he couldn’t see, save for those conveyed through the messages that flickered before him.
He waited for a response.
The silence stretched... and stretched too long... too thin.
Just as he felt ready to snap, a gentle voice stirred, and letters shifted across the floating obsidian panel.
[The Wolf of the North is laughing profusely and beating the floor like a mad dog]
[The Witch of Mirrors majestically stifles laughter]
[The Weaver of Sorrows shakes their head sorrowfully at you]
[The Oathbreaker sighs in silent dejection]
[The Heretic Inquisitor of Eternal Truth is laughing wildly]
[The rest of the Sovereign Gods are ignoring you]
Kage’s confidence crumbled. He felt like a cosmic joke—talking to figments he’d convinced himself existed, only to become the punchline for beings who might be real after all.
’Actually, I’m just batshit crazy. I’ve always been crazy. These are just extensions of my madness manifested into real-time derangement. After all the evil I’ve wrought, twelfth-degree dementia makes perfect sense.’
He smiled grimly.
’Good to know I’m not alone in my madness.’
[The Wolf of North slowly kills their laughter, looks at you with a raised eyebrow]
[The Heretic Inquisitor of Eternal Truth laughs even more wildly]
[The Oathbreaker folds their massive iron arms and stares grimly at you]
[The Weaver of Sorrow smiles bitterly—they feel complimented by you]
Kage blanched at the Weaver of Sorrow’s reaction. They had to be some beautiful, despondent creature to consider madness a compliment.
He shook his head slightly.
’What have I gotten myself into...’
Silence descended upon his mind’s landscape. He drew a long breath and addressed them again.
"So, what was funny, Sovereigns?"
[The Sovereign Gods can’t believe you don’t know]
[The Heretic Inquisitor of Eternal Truth has volunteered to explain]
[His words are: You, boy, are a level of failure we have never witnessed. I can at least speak for myself. I lived through the Era of Humanity’s early Prosperity, the aftermath of the Great Vassal Wars—a period teeming with Purists and Weavers who have since gone cold. Yet never have I laid eyes on a being as utterly talentless as you. No unique body formation techniques, not even Essentia or Severance arts could flourish in your pathetic grasp. Even your hands are too pale, too fragile to nurture anything worthwhile.
[You are simply a walking vessel of failure, destined to shatter and break from the slightest exertion. Perhaps you should consider becoming a Scholar. Now, people may say Scholars are wretched things to be, but I tell you—knowledge is vast and profound. You’ll find yourself a hobby soon enough and savor the brief, fleeting satisfaction of knowing something, even though you’ll realize moments later that you actually know nothing.]
The message didn’t voice their words aloud like it did with their expressions so Kage had to read every damning syllable. The further he read, the more his face contorted with rage.
When he finished, he glared at the screen with pure venom. If he could see this Inquisitor of Eternal Truth right now, he’d be drilling daggers straight through the bastard’s skull.
The words stung—stung deeply—and it wasn’t like Kage hadn’t heard them before. In fact, he’d grown sick of listening to this shit for over thirty years of his life.
He grimaced.
"I already found a hobby in reading books, no thanks. Reading won’t protect my family."
His violet eyes gleamed razor-sharp.
"With or without your help, I will find a way to grow stronger. If you help me, great boon to you all. And if you don’t, may your rotten arses burn in the hell of my soul. Mind you, my soul is actually the worst place you could decide to dwell in."
[The Wolf of the North stares silently with a corner of their lips raised]
[The Weaver of Sorrow sobs a little—they feel a pang of pity for your hopelessness and bleak future]
Kage buried his face in both palms, sinking into the darkness for a moment.
’These crazy old bastards apparently aren’t ready to help me.’
[The Oathbreaker frowns at your words]
"I really don’t give a damn right now."
Kage pulled his hands away and exhaled. He had to figure out a way to protect his family—to stop the assassination first.
The best way was to step into the limelight. If he emerged from obscurity, he’d at least be under the Clan Patriarch’s radar. There were more disadvantages than advantages to that approach, but the sole advantage outweighed everything else—Kage was willing to ignore the risks.
The cruel part was that, as simple as it sounded, it was damn near impossible.
Stepping into the limelight meant being interesting enough to capture an Immortal’s attention—the Clan Patriarch’s attention.
For that to happen, Kage had to be far more compelling than all sixteen of his older siblings.
Of course, he could manage that, but he would need years and a lot of resources. Years was something he couldn’t afford, especially while staying within the confines of the Fortress.
He needed to leave and most importantly, he needed an excuse to leave.
A small frown creased his brows as his gaze sharpened with a fearsome determination. It was the cocky look of a reckless teen but there was also something unsettling about it.
Half of Kage’s body collapsed onto the bed, his eyes growing vacant as he stared at the lantern chandelier’s dim warm glow.
As golden light slowly poured from the vast horizon beyond the mountain and treetop line, a gentle, rhythmic ringing of metal—distant and faint—drifted into Kage’s ears.
Lost in thought, he didn’t immediately process the sound. But as its awareness crept in, a small frown creased his brow.
Then he sat back up.
’That’s right... this sound...’
A sly smile crept across Kage’s lips.
’I know what to do.’