Chapter 119: AUTHORITIES

"God of Pride, Ragnir. You have been granted the Authority of Pride."

Ragnir’s eyes widened as he immediately looked around his surroundings, only to find no one there. The area remained completely silent, yet the voice continued to echo directly inside his head.

"You may impose your presence upon beings you perceive as inferior. Weaker opponents may be forced to kneel, hesitate, or lose the ability to attack. You may also bestow this Authority upon an individual of your choosing, and the stronger their devotion toward you, the greater the Authority will manifest through them."

Ragnir remained silent for several seconds before finally speaking.

"The Entity?"

"This Pantheon shall accept the Entity’s blessing."

Ragnir then floated toward the church that had been constructed in his name. The building stood upon a raised stone platform, its enormous walls made from carefully carved gray stone with symbols of lightning.

Tall pillars supported a towering ceiling, allowing the interior to stretch far above the people gathered beneath it. A long stone hall extended toward the end of the church, where a shrine dedicated to Ragnir stood beneath a massive symbol of lightning.

Several candles surrounded the shrine, their flames flickering despite the absence of wind. A few individuals knelt before it, lowering their heads as they prayed to the God of Pride.

Some were warriors who had lost battles and feared facing stronger opponents again. Others were young soldiers who had yet to experience their first real battle, praying for the courage to overcome their fear and stand against those who terrified them.

This church had been built by an elven warrior who had once attempted to proclaim himself a god. He had gathered followers, constructed the shrine, and eventually challenged Ragnir himself.

He was defeated almost immediately, and Ragnir had not even needed Auravene to overcome him. Now, that same warrior stood within the church, his head lowered as Ragnir communicated with him.

"You have been chosen to carry my Authority."

The elf slowly raised his head.

"You shall become the Apostle of Pride."

The moment the Authority entered his body, the warrior felt something change within him. It was not simply an increase in strength, but a strange sensation that the very space around him had begun acknowledging his existence.

He slowly stood before walking toward the shrine. As he moved through the hall, several warriors turned their heads toward him, their expressions immediately changing as an unfamiliar pressure began spreading throughout the church.

The elf stopped in the middle of the hall and looked across the warriors surrounding him. His eyes carried an unfamiliar confidence as he raised his chin.

"Kneel."

The moment the word left his mouth, the atmosphere became unbearably heavy. Several warriors immediately collapsed onto their knees, their bodies trembling as they struggled against the invisible pressure.

"I CAN’T MOVE!"

"MY BODY WON’T OBEY MY COMMANDS!"

"WHAT DID LAPACE DO TO US?!"

Their hands trembled against the stone floor as they desperately tried to stand, but their bodies refused to obey them. These were warriors from different races, individuals who had gathered together because they wished to follow the God of Pride.

Each of them had survived countless battles and possessed strength far beyond ordinary individuals. Yet with only a single word, Lapace had brought them all to their knees.

Lapace eventually stood before the shrine and spread his arms. The pressure surrounding him intensified as he proudly looked toward the kneeling warriors.

"Tell this to the world!"

His voice echoed throughout the entire church.

"Ragnir, the Lightning God of Pride, has chosen me as his Apostle!"

He raised his head with a confident smile.

"Tell them my name!"

"LAPACE, THE AUTHORITY OF THE GOD OF PRIDE!"

--

Deep within a dark forest where the trees absorbed nearly every ray of sunlight that passed through their branches, an eternal darkness covered the land. The trees were unnaturally tall and twisted, their enormous roots spreading across the ground like veins.

A single wooden house stood deep within the forest, surrounded by countless magical candles. Their flames had continued burning for long period of time without consuming the wax, illuminating the area with an eerie crimson glow.

Around the house, countless bodies were scattered across the ground. Their corpses had long since dried, leaving behind lifeless remains that showed no signs of moisture or decay.

Inside the house, several people dressed in dark clothing knelt upon the wooden floor. Their eyes were bloodshot from countless nights without sleep, yet none of them dared to raise their heads.

Before them rested a tiny baby upon a stone table. Blood covered the child’s entire body, and far too much of it had already spilled across the table.

There was no possible way such a small body could have contained that much blood..

The worshippers pressed their heads against the floor.

"Scarlet Goddess, we pray for you to let us see this child for the last time."

"We beg you, Goddess. Please let us see our child again."

The blood surrounding the baby suddenly began moving. It slowly lifted from the child’s body and floated into the air, twisting around the room like crimson threads.

The worshippers immediately raised their heads. A faint voice emerged from somewhere within the darkness.

"The Goddess has heard your prayers."

The baby suddenly began crying. "WAHHH! WAHHH!"

The worshippers froze as a figure slowly emerged behind the child. A dark crimson radiance surrounded its body, making its appearance almost impossible to distinguish.

"The Goddess has personally appeared!"

The father stared at the figure in disbelief.

"A child...?"

The crimson figure slowly approached him. Its head moved closer until it was directly beside his own.

"Do you wish to revive your child?"

The father swallowed heavily as his entire body trembled. He looked toward the baby before forcing the words out of his mouth.

"Y-Yes..."

"Affirmative."

The crimson radiance suddenly intensified. Two heads fell to the ground, and the father and mother collapsed beside the table as their blood spread across the floor.

The worshippers released terrified breaths, but none of them dared to move. The crimson figure slowly turned toward the surviving child.

"My dear people."

Its voice remained calm as it looked toward the baby.

"Raise this child."

The crimson figure paused for a moment before continuing.

"For she shall become the true Queen of this world."