Final Book

5

They each held a shield and a spear in their hands, white cloaks with a symbol resembling the features of a tiger’s visage fluttered behind them, steel boots shone on their feet, their heads were covered by open-face helmets, and in their eyes... There were oceans of power in them.

They were probably many times weaker than the Guardian, but still, it was unlikely that anyone from the Land of the Immortals, with the exception of its ten strongest Masters, would have been able to even breathe in the presence of these creatures.

And yet… Something told Hadjar that the reason these two were standing guard here was because they were weak and occupied low positions in the local hierarchy. As with everywhere else in the Nameless World, power determined your station, and how much respect you were truly afforded.

And after a few more moments of adjustment, all that remained of the previous fleeting and indistinct image of the two men were the sparse, barely discernible flashes around their bodies. It was probably a stretch to even call it an aura.

“He’s a bit strange for a Younger God,” the one on the right muttered.

“Have you seen many of them before?” The one on the left grinned. “Only two have Ascended in the last epoch, and neither of them on your watch.”

“And yet-”

“A Younger God,” Hadjar interrupted. “What does that mean?”

He’d decided that it was best to bide his time until he could finally adjust to this strange world of the gods. He had already heard a bit from Helmer about the gradations of power — he’d not been shocked to learn they existed here, too — between the inhabitants of the Seventh Heaven, but it never hurt to double-check and consolidate one’s information.

Nevertheless, his question caused a slight tension in the expressions of the two guards. They looked at each other, and the one on the left answered him after a while.

“Our land does not have the strict power limits you are used to as a mortal,” he said hesitantly. “The Younger Gods are those who have only recently Ascended, or those who have not been chosen by any of the Legions yet.”

Hadjar nodded, pretending like he was remembering all of this. In reality, he was pushing waves of Therna through his body, getting used to the way it responded to his call in this strange world.

“Then there are the Junior Gods — those who have either found their way into one of the Legions or who serve the Elder Gods directly. The Elder Gods are those whose Law is strong enough to withstand the test of any of the Primordial Gods. Actually, the Younger Gods, the Junior Gods, and the Elder Gods are all just like you and me — they ascended or were born here. And the Primordial Gods are those who were created alongside the Nameless World. That’s the whole framework.”

Hadjar nodded. That was more or less what Helmer had told him as well. What he’d found most strange was the fact that the Seventh Heaven was still a very militarized society, even though their war against the creatures of the Verge had ended so long ago that he couldn’t even remember when exactly that had happened.

Chapter 1905

The vast majority here were part of the Legions. There were about twenty of them in total, with thirty-five thousand gods in each Legion. About seven hundred thousand gods in total were in the Legions, which meant only a bit less than a third weren’t part of one, since, according to Helmer, the Seventh Heaven was inhabited by about a million gods. There were only a little over a hundred Primordial Gods, and the rest had Ascended or been born here. One million. The entire history of the Nameless World, with all its countless inhabitants, had only produced that many gods.

And yes, the Lands of Spirits and Demons should be placed in a separate group, for they were beings comparable in power to the gods. And they also had their own path of development, and they had their own process of Ascension, where they could choose whether they wanted to become gods or stay in their homeland and still attain a level of power similar to what the denizens of the Seventh Heaven possessed.

Still, one million Ascended over hundreds of eras was a rather frightening number. Not because it was huge, but on the contrary, it was terrifying because of how insignificant it seemed against the backdrop of those countless souls being born, dying, and then being reborn once more under the light of Irmaril.

Hadjar looked up at the sky again and smiled faintly at his musings. Only here and now did he finally understand why Helmer had always teased him whenever the General had mentioned the Evening Stars, or whenever he’d used any other similar expressions.

Here, where there was nothing but a vast eternity above your head, and the stars, like the sun itself, not only had a ‘physical’ form, but could also talk to you, it was a very strange thing to think of them as something abstract. That was probably why the demon, like many other Ancients, always mentioned Eternity in similar situations instead.

“Have you recovered yet?” The one on the right asked with that same, slight suspicion from before. “We can take you to the Village. You can stay there for a few centuries until you decide what to do next.”

Hadjar almost choked on air — though he doubted there was any actual air to even choke on — due to what he’d just heard. The Village of the Gods. The legionnaire had said it with an intonation that had made it clear he’d meant the Village. Otherwise, there would have been a mixture of condescension and some arrogance in his tone, surely.

To be honest, Hadjar couldn’t wrap his head around it. After traversing an incredible path, overcoming unimaginable obstacles, acquiring monstrous strength, defying death a thousand times over, enduring the crucible of countless battles, you would get... to live in the Village and have a ‘common’ legionnaire treat you with patient lenience.

Although, come to think of it, that was exactly what happened in every other region of the Nameless World. Every time you entered a new region where the energy density was higher due to the greater saturation of the World River, you would end up at the bottom of the food chain once more. Or, if you possessed really impressive power, you would find yourself in the middle of it, perhaps, but no higher than that.

Apparently, that same rule could be applied here as well. It was kind of sad. Hadjar had hoped that the Seventh Heaven wouldn’t turn out to be so predictable. Unlike some, he had started out as a mere mortal. Not even a practitioner. So, he’d seen enough of this pattern. The Sea of Sand, the Empires, the Strange Lands, the Northern Mountains, the Land of the North, the Land of the Immortals, and now the Seventh Heaven. And everywhere, every time, it had been the same exact thing.

“Your sword,” the same legionnaire on the right pointed to Hadjar’s sheathed blade. “You were lucky enough to find a Soul Weapon in the lower worlds?”

Hadjar had also heard about Weapons with a Soul, Predatory Weapons, and Soul Weapons. A Weapon (or suit of armor or whatever) with a Soul was the final level of artifacts in the mortal world. Such an item strengthened its wielder many times over with its own powers, mysteries, and the like. Therefore, they were extremely rare even in the Land of the Immortals.