After a few calming breaths—if anything in this hellhole can be called "calming"—I finally rest my bloody hand on the cover of an ancient brown book. Over a million pages thick, the historians say. It sits on a black stone platform in this damp, miserable cave, radiating the kind of evil energy that would make my dear father Hades proud.
Fitting, really, that the thing meant to destroy him feels like his own creation.
Hades, the cunning, cruel bastard that he is, rarely bothers visiting purgatory anymore. I imagine he is ever so busy, fucking the swans and head-deep in all that other weird shit the Gods are into.
A couple of months ago, I couldn't even hope to escape this place.
But changing everything was my wee little friend Baldy and a couple of other brave Demi-Gods who formed a militia. All they wanted was to reach the Book of Creation that lay in purgatory's center.
We fought and hid, bit and clawed our way here, only for me to be the only survivor.
Well, truth be told, I killed Baldy! Oh, I was so sad watching the life leave his body, but I had to! There was only one wish, and I'm not a sharer.
Oopsie.
This wonderful book is said to grant anything to anyone who places their hand on it. So when nothing happens for a few dreadful moments, I retrieve my hand and scream aloud.
"Damn it!"
Are all of these years, the relentless torture, the bloodshed, the goddamn pain of an abomination tearing off my flesh like I'm some type of meat pie—are they all for nothing?
I can't believe it…
As I angrily rip my finger off the worn cover, a gust of wind that shouldn't exist in purgatory roars to life. The book flings wide open, and I look at Baldy's corpse. Sorry for ever doubting you! I will repay you in the next life tenfold, maybe even twentyfold if I get my money up.
Don't look at me with those eyes, I'm not lying!
I swear if this is a trap…
After swallowing, I mutter my good-luck mantra that, well, has at least worked thus far—"Shit… shit… shit, I will survive." Then I put my hand on its yellow pages and think of my one singular wish I have carried with me all this time.
A fair chance to tear every God apart.
***
Let us backtrack to my terrible past.
I happen to be one of the faithless. My crime: to exist, to breathe the same air as my father, Hades. That smug bastard took one look at me after I turned 17—the last chance I had to awaken—and threw me, his one thousandth son, into the pits of Hell!
I mean, what a dickhead! Time was foggy in Hell. Seconds stretched to hours, and hours backpedaled to minutes, minutes collapsed to seconds, all while Hades baked my insides with heat.
My years of resentment for my father—no, actually all the Gods, Demi-Gods, and anyone else living in Olympus—burned hotter than the sun Apollo let mortals gawk at like fools.
This isn't my first time living, you see.
A couple of hundred years ago, I was living the lovely life of an unfaithful demigod, my father Poseidon. I know, what luck, right?
In that previous life, I endured relentless bullying from classmates, then, after not awakening the final time, I became a slave until I died miserably of old age and beatings.
Whip after whip after whip, I cried, begged anyone, any God, to have mercy on me, but they all turned their heads in disgust. Now it is my turn to grab them by their heads and take my revenge on those divine parasites.
I was reincarnated for a reason. I wholeheartedly believe that I was born to Hades and forced to wander Hell all for a reason. I hate him. I hate him so much that I will do the unthinkable.
The book begins to float higher and spin fast… faster… TOO FAST!
Screech!
A bright, blood-red aura streams down from the pages and engulfs me whole. I try to run, afraid that whatever I release will be my end, but the aura solidifies, trapping me in its cage.
Then—Crack!
A resounding noise, as if the sky splits, nearly ruptures my eardrum. And suddenly, rich soil presses between my toes, while a gentle wind—yes, actual wind—whips my long black hair. My eyes take their sweet time to adjust… this damned light! Finally… I look around and find myself surrounded by a deep, evergreen forest, with trees that tower to the heavens.
HAHAHA!
"I escaped!"
I couldn't tell you where I am, but no matter how long I had spent in purgatory, it feels absolutely amazing to be anywhere else. The cracks of my frail body, even hinged on my slightest movement, are so beautiful that I cry.
"Hello, this is a one-time message to Lirael." Suddenly, a monotone woman speaks in my head. Her words are like receiving a gift after getting laid. "Upon your wish, I have granted you a fair chance to strive with the Gods. I teleported you to a far land in the same realm as Olympus. Your journey back will be perilous, but not without aid. Think of status, and your cultivation pathway will open. I have granted you a few spirit points already to unlock your first skill… Good luck, the Gods will make sure you need it."
I don't waste any time, eagerness taking me by storm. Status. I am sure only my black eyes can see the shiny runes floating before me like a spiderweb.
There is a continuous line that zigzags with other lines branching off it in sections. On the first branched-off section, four skills surround the word "Starter skills."
[Umbral Step] – Step between shadows—range ten meters.
[Orbit Slash] – An orbiting astral blade—a Halo of steel that deflects, cuts, and harms anything in its path.
[Heavenly Wings] – Beautiful feathered wings—allow for temporary flight, and quick movements.
[Blood Weapon] – Lirael infuses his own life into his weapon, sheathing it in pulsing red veins that throb with power.
At first, this is an almost impossible decision. My eyes dart from skill to skill, trying to glean every word of description, and as I do, I notice that another line is attached to each starting skill, each having another label.
They are perks.
The perk for choosing [Umbral Step] is that it has a 30% chance to spawn a shadow echo, dealing minor damage and siphoning 1% mana.
[Orbit Slash's] perk is a slight 3% healing buff with every landed strike.
Each flap of [Heavenly Wings] shoots eight feathered quills. These quills mark enemies as vulnerable for a short period of time, causing them to take 10% more damage.
[Blood Weapon] has a 15% chance to poison enemies for a long period of time with each strike—poisoned enemies take 20% more damage.
My brain wracks and wracks for an answer, and the two spirit points in the top-right of my runes beg me to be spent. However, how can I make a decision now? First off, I do not even have a weapon, so Blood Weapon will be useless for now. Secondly, it would be foolish to waste my points without even considering my options for a period of time. After all, there is no guarantee I can refund these spirit points after unlocking a skill.
With no hint of regret, I close my runes and look around. Not too far from me is a bamboo village built up against a steep, sharp mountain.
I am immediately drawn to this place. I need clues on my whereabouts, maybe a weapon, perhaps money? All of that can be found in a village—if not purchased, borrowed forever… hehe, I laugh in my heart.
But in the next moment, my body refuses to move.
I feel ill, sweat drenching my back like a damned pig. Kneel! My gut screams at me. Kneel! I collapse to the ground, not wanting to die again.
Then a voice. A voice I hate—loathe even—screams at me between my ears. It is my father's voice. He is angry, rightfully so.
"What have you done! You don't know the significance of opening the Book of Creation! I hope it was worth it; my dogs have already been sent to end you, child."
Once his overwhelming pressure vanishes, I stand upright and swat the grime off my long black robes.
I would have lied to you just now if I said I am not more than a little bit panicked. While I loathe my father, even fantasizing on more than one occasion about how I will rip out his spine, he is not a man I can trifle with just yet.
Whoever he sends to find me will be vicious and cruel just like him, hellbent on destroying me. Though they are not Gods like Hades, they cannot speak with me telepathically, nor can they traverse a whole realm quickly. It will take them some time to reach me.
With this fact in mind, I smile and head toward the village.
I will destroy his "dogs" and deliver them to his doorstep, wrapped in a pretty pink bow and a thank-you letter reading:
"Fuck you, Dad (:"