For one month, Ren Hanshin vanished from the public eye. He didn't enter a single dungeon. While the Awakened Association frantically searched the country for the mysterious F-Rank who had shattered an S-Rank labyrinth, and while the Azure Dragon Guild slowly bled to death from the loss of their S-Rank core and elite assassins, Ren was getting his bones broken on a muddy mountain.
SWISH!
The wooden bokken cut through the morning mist, aiming for Ren's temple. Ren simply exhaled, letting his shoulders drop, and tilted his head backward slightly. The wooden blade grazed the tips of his dark hair.
Before Jubei could take back the strike, Ren stepped inside the old man's guard. He didn't flood his muscles with his monstrous strength. He didn't leak a single drop of his A-Rank mana. He moved with the eerie silence of a falling leaf.
Ren brought the handle of his scythe up, stopping it half an inch from Jubei's scarred throat. The courtyard fell silent. The only sound was the rustling of the pine trees in the wind.
[System Notice!]
[Your hidden stat 'Combat Proficiency' has leveled up!]
[Combat Proficiency: B-Rank.]
[You have learned the passive skill: 'Aura Suppression (Advanced)'.]
Jubei lowered his wooden sword. A genuine smile spread across his scarred face.
"Flawless," the Sword Saint murmured. "You masked your killing intent. For a fraction of a second, you simply ceased to exist in my perception. You have finally learned how to hide the Reaper, Ren Hanshin."
Ren lowered the scythe, breathing vehemently, his clothes soaked in cold sweat. It had been four weeks of agonizing torture. Jubei had stripped away Ren's reliance on the system's automatic targeting and stat boosts. He had forced Ren to memorize the movements in weight, the sound of breathing, and the angles of leverage required to break a man's balance. Now, Ren didn't just swing a Mythic weapon. He wielded it.
"Thank you, Master," Ren said, bowing his head respectfully to the blind old man.
The air in the courtyard plummeted below freezing. The omni-view camera, which had hovered silently by the shrine's roof for a month, zipped forward, stopping inches from Ren's face. The red light burned like a miniature sun.
[The God of Fate is vibrating with immense jealousy.]
[God of Fate]: Do not call him Master. Do not bow your head to a mortal dog.
[God of Fate]: I am your Master. I am your God. I let you play in the mud for a month, Ren. My patience has run dry.
Ren sighed, straightening his posture. He dismissed the scythe, letting it vanish into crimson mist into his palm. She had been like this all week. The more competent Ren became, the more suffocating her obsession grew. She hated that he was learning to rely on himself.
"You are ready," Jubei said, turning his back and walking toward the ruined shrine. "The Sovereign's Draft is approaching. The monsters of the other gods will come for your head. Do not let them take it, and boy..."
Jubei paused at the steps, looking back over his shoulder with his empty eyes. "Be careful. The chains are not forged from iron. They are forged from love."
Ren watched the old man disappear into the shadows of the shrine. He knew exactly what Jubei meant.
****
Two Hours Later - Roppongi Penthouse.
Ren stepped out of his private elevator, tossing his jacket onto the floor. The large, flat screen television in the living room was already on, tuned to the Awakened Association News Network. Ren paused, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, and listened to the anchor's frantic voice.
"...breaking news regarding the Azure Dragon Guild. Following the catastrophic plummet of their stock prices last week, Guild Master Kaito has officially been summoned by the Awakened Council for a disciplinary hearing regarding the unauthorized use of unregistered lethal operatives. Furthermore, A-Rank Healer Mei and A-Rank Swordsman Ryuichi have publicly resigned from the Guild, citing a toxic and dangerous internal hierarchy..."
Ren took a slow sip of water, a cold smile touching his lips. He hadn't needed to lift a finger to destroy them. The severed arm delivered to Kaito's desk had shattered the Guild Master's confidence, causing him to act erratically toward his own members. The fear of Ren coming back to tear the building down had eaten Kaito alive. The Azure Dragon Guild was officially dead.
Revenge was a dish best served on national television. Suddenly, the television screen glitched. The news anchor's face distorted into a mess of digital static, before the screen turned into a suffocating crimson.
The temperature in the penthouse spiked. The air grew so heavy that the glass of the water bottle in Ren's hand spider webbed with cracks.
[The God of Fate has locked the domain.]
[System communication restricted. Real-world communication restricted.]
Ren frowned, dropping the cracked bottle into the sink. "What are you doing?"
Every single omni-view camera in the penthouse flew into the kitchen and surrounded Ren, their unblinking red eyes locking onto him from every angle.
The crimson chat box appeared, larger and more aggressive than ever before.
[God of Fate]: I waited.
[God of Fate]: For one month, I sat in my silent throne room and watched another man touch you. I watched him hit you with a stick. I watched you bleed, and I did nothing because you asked me to let you grow.
[God of Fate]: But the training is over, Ren. It is my turn now.
A vortex of crimson divine energy opened in the center of the kitchen.
[The God of Fate is enforcing the contract.]
[God of Fate]: Take your shirt off.
Ren's jaw tightened. "I just got home. I need to—"
[WARNING: DIVINE WRATH IMMINENT.]
[God of Fate]: I SAID, TAKE IT OFF.
The crushing pressure of her voice crawling through the system interface forced Ren to his knees. The marble floor cracked beneath his weight. It was the undeniable will of a Sovereign God imposing itself on a mortal vessel. Gritting his teeth against the suffocating pressure, Ren reached up and grabbed the hem of his dark shirt, pulling it over his head and tossing it aside. His torso was a canvas of fresh, purple bruises and shallow cuts from his month of training with the Sword Saint.
The four cameras hummed, hovering closer, framing his battered chest and back.
[The God of Fate is weeping.]
[God of Fate]: Look at what you let him do to my property. Your beautiful skin... it is ruined. I should have killed that blind rat.
The crimson vortex in the center of the room thumped. A single red droplet of liquid rushed out from the portal. It hovered in the air, emitting an ancient mana that made Ren's A-Rank core tremble.
[Item Name: Tears of the Sovereign]
[Grade: Mythic (Consumable)]
[Description: A droplet of concentrated divine essence weeping from the God of Fate. It heals all mortal wounds, purifies the vessel, and binds the recipient's soul closer to the constellation.]
[God of Fate]: Open your mouth, my sweet Ren. Let me heal you. Let me mark you.
Ren stared at the shimmering red droplet. He could feel the trap. This wasn't just a healing potion. This was a leash. She was going to forcefully interweave her divine mana into his cells, making him even more reliant on her. But the pressure in the room was more. If he refused, she might literally tear the building apart, or worse, turn her gaze toward his sister's hospital. Slowly, his eyes burning with a mixture of rage and humiliation, Ren opened his mouth.
The crimson droplet shot forward, landing on his tongue. It tasted like copper and suffocating sweetness. The moment he swallowed, Ren's body went rigid. An agonizingly hot wave of energy exploded in his chest. It rushed through his veins like liquid fire. Every single bruise, every single cut, every tear in his muscles vanished instantly. His skin became smooth, harder than steel yet unblemished. But the heat didn't stop. It pooled in the center of his chest, right over his heart, burning with the intensity of an iron.
Ren gasped, clutching his chest as a faint crimson tattoo slowly etched itself into his skin. It was a complex, beautiful rune, the crest of the 'Weaver of the Crimson Thread.'
[System Notice: The Host's vessel has been purified.]
[Vitality permanently increased by 50!]
[Mana permanently increased by 200!]
[Warning: The Host's soul is now 15% synchronized with the God of Fate. You can now sense her emotions, and she can sense yours.]
Ren collapsed onto his hands and knees, panting vigorously. The burning faded, replaced by an overwhelming rush of power. His Mana was now at a staggering 1,000 points. He was a walking disaster class anomaly, but as he looked down at the crimson crest branded over his heart, he realized he had never been less free.
The cameras hovered back slightly, humming in obsessive satisfaction.
[The God of Fate is smiling with devotion.]
[God of Fate]: Perfect. You are flawless. You carry my mark now, Ren. Every God in the universe will see it. They will know not to touch what is mine.
[The God of Fate has donated 20,000,000 Karma Points!]
Ren slowly stood up, running his thumb over the warm brand on his chest, before he could speak, the penthouse shook suddenly. It wasn't an earthquake. The blast proof windows reverberated as the sky outside turned a brilliant gold.
The red chat box was overwritten by a global system announcement. The text was written in pure gold light, broadcasting to the retinas of every single high ranking awakened on the planet at the same time.
[GLOBAL ANNOUNCEMENT!]
[The Sovereign Pantheon decrees that the hour of the gathering has arrived.]
[Event Triggered: The Constellation Banquet.]
Ren's eyes widened. 'Kenjiro had said the draft was months away. Why was the System triggering a global event now?'
[Description: The top 100 Avatars on Earth are hereby summoned to the Divine Neutral Zone. You will be pulled from your mortal realm to stand before your sponsors, receive your divine mandates, and prepare for the Sovereign's Draft.]
[Targeted Host: Ren Hanshin (Rank: Unregistered S-Class Anomaly)]
[You have been officially invited by the God of Fate.]
[Refusal is impossible. Forced dimensional shift initiating in 60 seconds.]
'TSKK!!' Ren cursed. The Banquet. This wasn't a dungeon. This was the cosmic stage. He was going to be thrown into a room with the Avatars of War, Death, and Magic, the people whose guilds he had been slaughtering, and worse... he was going to meet her.
The projection of the psychotic goddess who had been watching him sleep, threatening his sister, and branding his chest. The crimson screen forced its way back, pushing the golden text aside.
[The God of Fate is trembling with unimaginable excitement.]
[God of Fate]: Finally.
[God of Fate]: Wear the coat, my love. Summon the scythe. Make sure you look terrifying for the other vermin, but look beautiful to me.
[God of Fate]: I am coming to see you.
Ren didn't hesitate. He willed the Embrace of the Weaver onto his shoulders. The midnight black coat formed around him, the crimson threads shining in rhythm with the brand on his chest. He didn't know what the Constellation Banquet entailed, but he knew one thing that he was stepping into the viper's nest.
FLASH!!
The gold light outside the window grew bright, crashing through the glass and swallowing the room. Ren closed his eyes as the dimensional shift tore him from Earth.