Chapter 143 | Removal

Chapter 143: 143 | Removal

An item forged from the souls of nine gods.

Nine ’true’ gods.

The weight of that revelation pressed down on him like a physical force. His mind raced, trying to process things.

How could such an item, a thing forged from the essence of nine deities, be found here? In a beginner village? In a cave that the system itself couldn’t see? It was insane.

Andrew hadn’t even taken his class advancement quest yet. He hadn’t advanced past level 10. He was a nobody. A speck. A level 10 brat who had barely begun to scratch the surface of what the world had to offer. And here he was, standing in a dead god’s domain, branded with an artifact forged from the souls of nine deities, talking to an item spirit who had just told him that the gods themselves would want him dead if they knew what he carried.

Even the system couldn’t relay the lamp’s functions to him. The question marks weren’t a glitch. They weren’t an error. The system—whatever it was, however vast its reach—genuinely could not process what this item was. It existed on a level that the system simply didn’t have the capacity to understand.

His heart beat quickened.

This was something he should not have touched. Not if he wanted to live. Not if he wanted to survive long enough to become anything. He had walked into a trap, touched the one thing in this palace that was more dangerous than the sword, and now it was permanently seared into his flesh and also his soul.

However—

Andrew wasn’t entirely panicked.

He had the Demon Face Illusion Mask. He could alter his appearance. Change his identity. Hide himself from anyone who might come looking. As long as no one discovered who he truly was, the nine lamps would remain a secret buried beneath his skin.

So he wasn’t truly worried.

Not about being found, at least.

What he ’was’ worried about was what the system was now showing him.

He pulled up the system interface and checked.

The information that appeared before his eyes was sparse—almost insultingly so—but it was more than the blank question marks he had received before.

[ Name: ??? ]

[ ??? ]

[ ??? ]

[ Function: ??? ]

[ ??? ]

[ ??? ]

Still question marks. Still unreadable. But then—a new line appeared. One that hadn’t been there before.

[ Equippable Divinity: 1/9 ]

Andrew blinked.

Then more lines appeared. One by one, the system laid out the structure of the nine lamps like a blueprint being unrolled.

[ Lamp 1: Equipped (Current Divinity) ]

[ Lamp 2: Empty — Can equip any divinity of any grade ]

[ Lamp 3: Empty — Can equip any divinity of any grade ]

[ Lamp 4: Empty — Can equip any divinity of any grade ]

[ Lamp 5: Empty — Can equip any divinity of any grade ]

[ Lamp 6: Empty — Can equip any divinity of any grade ]

[ Lamp 7: Empty — Can equip any divinity of any grade ]

[ Lamp 8: Empty — Can equip any divinity of any grade ]

[ Lamp 9: Empty — Can equip any divinity of any grade ]

Andrew read through the list once. Then twice. Then a third time, slowly, making sure he understood what he was seeing.

One lamp was lit. His own divinity—the divine power he had already attained—had automatically filled the first lamp. The remaining eight were empty. Waiting. Each one capable of accepting any divinity of any grade.

Any divinity.

Any grade.

If he could find eight more—if he could fill all nine lamps with divine power—what would happen?

As if reading his thoughts, Aurora smiled.

"Master," she said, her voice warm with excitement. "This item is quite godly."

She flew closer, her tiny hands clasped together in front of her chest, her silver-white eyes blazing with enthusiasm.

"You only need to find eight more divinities," she said, "and you shall become a god among gods yourself. If you equip all nine divinities into the lamps—lighting all of them up—you would be stronger than a regular god. Far stronger. And unless they gather together—unless multiple gods unite to kill you—you would be unstoppable."

Andrew was shocked.

Deeply, profoundly, fundamentally shocked. The kind of shock that starts in your stomach and radiates outward until every cell in your body is buzzing with it. Stronger than a god. Unstoppable. A god among gods.

He tried his best not to show it. He kept his face flat, his expression neutral, his eyes steady. If Aurora saw how stunned he was, she would talk more. She would explain more. And the more she explained, the more she might reveal things he wasn’t ready to hear—or things that might change how he thought about this item. He needed to stay calm. Stay in control.

But inside, his mind was reeling.

Then the system updated again.

A new window appeared. Red text. Bold. The kind of formatting the system used when it was delivering information that was not optional, not negotiable, and definitely not good news.

[ CURSE DETECTED: Ancient Nine Lamp Curse ]

[ Effect: EXP required to level up increased by 200%. ]

[ This effect is permanent. ]

Andrew stared at the red text.

He read it once. Twice. Three times.

His face changed rapidly—the neutral mask cracking, shifting, cycling through disbelief, confusion, horror, and finally settling on pure, unfiltered outrage.

"What the fuck?" he shouted.

His voice echoed through the empty diamond palace like a cannon shot.

"Two hundred percent?! Two hundred percent more EXP to level up? Just because of this lamp?"

He stared at the system window, waiting for it to change. For a footnote. For an exception. For some kind of "just kidding" that would make this less catastrophic.

None came.

200%. Permanent. Non-negotiable.

Every single point of EXP he earned from this moment forward would be worth a third of what it should be. Every monster he killed, every quest he completed, every domain he cleared—it would all count for a fraction of its actual value. While other people at his level were advancing steadily, climbing the ranks, getting stronger with each battle, he would be crawling. Moving at a third of their speed. Working three times as hard for the same results.

It would take him twice—no, three times—as long to level up as anyone else. Every level would require the EXP of three. Every milestone would demand triple the effort. Every step forward would feel like dragging a boulder uphill through mud.

Andrew’s face changed rapidly again—the reality of the curse settling over him like a lead weight, crushing whatever excitement the nine lamps had generated.

He immediately tried to unequip it.

He grabbed at his arm, at the brand on his forearm, at the invisible interface that connected him to the nine lamps. He pulled at the system, mentally commanding it to remove the item, to strip the lamps from his body, to undo what had been done.

Nothing happened.

He grabbed Aurora—his fingers closing around her tiny form, lifting her to eye level with a grip that was none too gentle.

"How do I unequip it?" he demanded.

Aurora didn’t flinch. She smiled at him—that same gentle, knowing, slightly pitying smile she had been wearing since she emerged from his chest.

"Once the Nine Ancient Lamps have been equipped," she said softly, "they cannot be unequipped."

Andrew’s grip tightened.

"Ever," she added. "It can never be unequipped. Not by you. Not by the system. Not by anyone."

"Then how—" Andrew started.

"Even if you die," Aurora continued, her voice dropping to something almost gentle, "it will not unequip. Even if your body is destroyed and your soul is shattered, the lamps will remain bound to whatever is left of you. The only way—the ’only’ way—for the Nine Ancient Lamps to be forcibly unequipped is if your body has scattered completely and your soul has been dissolved to the point where there is no hope of reincarnation. No hope of rebirth. No hope of return. Only then—only when you are truly, permanently, irreversibly dead—will the lamps release their hold."

Andrew’s heart trembled.

Not from excitement. Not from anger. From fear. Genuine, bone-deep, primal fear—the kind that comes from realizing you have made a mistake so enormous that there is no undoing it.

He should not have touched the Nine Ancient Lamps.

He should have left them behind the throne. Untouched. Unnoticed. Hidden in their narrow space where no one had looked for eight thousand years. He should have taken the god domain, taken the sword, taken the treasures, and walked away. He should have been satisfied with what he had.

But he hadn’t.

He had reached out. He had touched the lamp. And now the lamp was part of him—burned into his flesh, seared into his soul, permanently and irrevocably bound to his existence.

Three times the EXP to level up.

Nine gods’ bones and souls forged into an artifact that the gods themselves would destroy him for carrying.

A curse that would follow him to the grave—and beyond.

And no way to remove it.

Andrew stood in the empty diamond palace, surrounded by gold and gems and treasures beyond counting, and felt poorer than he ever had in his life.