Chapter 11 - Armament Users & Deities

Skoll howls to her ancestors, an ancient sound that reverberates through the sunlight. Her massive form shrinks, fur rippling until she’s the size of a pup, tail wagging, horn nudging against my leg as she bounds into the caravan.

Before long, Silas halts the convoy at a wide clearing thick with the scent of damp earth and moss -- Grass-veined paths and a jagged rock canopy with glowing mushrooms create a starlit illusion.

“Camp time!” Silas announces, hopping off with a stretch.

The group moves efficiently, without urgency this time. Bela chops the firewood. Edward collects the provisions. Leon and Skoll take perimeter watch.

“Brawler, Leader,” Silas calls, his tone unmistakably this is the start of a legend, “come over here for a second.”

I swagger over. “Alright, what nonsense are we pulling now?”

Leader sighs, following. “This better not be another one of your ideas.”

A circle of stones marks an unlit campfire, and Silas crouches next to it with the air of someone about to show off. “If you think Skoll shrinking and the skyline is bizarre, wait until you see this.”

Leader eyes the soft glow pulsing at our feet. “Lunacaps?”

Silas nods, pleased. “You saw them in your notebook.”

I lift my chin. “I scribbled in that they’re good for ointments.”

Silas smirks. “Do tell.”

“Later. My gut tells me this moment isn’t about herbal remedies.”

“This is way trippier.” Silas straightens, lifting his hand. One finger raises like he’s about to conduct reality itself.

Cracked, opalescent lines -- floating shards of shattered reality -- extend from his fingertip. They pulse faintly, their fragmented edges refracting the mushrooms’ glow into kaleidoscopic patterns.

“Lines of shattered reality?” Leader steps back, wide-eyed.

Before we can process the danger, the cracked lines retract with a soft ‘snick’, and a flame ignites at the whole of Silas’s finger.

“Fire!” Leader yelps. “Quick put it out!”

I flinch back, “Dude, you're on fire!” waving frantically.

Silas chuckles richly, completely unbothered. “Relax! Flames don’t hurt me.”

Leader squints at the dancing embers, the way they cling to Silas’s skin without consuming it. “That’s-- That’s not normal.”

“Feel it,” Silas says, holding his index finger out.

Without needing to edge closer, sure enough, the warmth from the dancing orange flickers against my body.

“This,” Silas explains, snuffing out the fire with a casual flick of his wrist, “is the power of a blessing. Specifically, the blessing given to me.”

I whistle low. “What kind of blessing sets your hand on fire?” I ask, half-impressed, half-terrified.

“The kind that comes with an Armament,” Silas replies, his grin turning slightly wicked. “Aspiring Conquerors, you’ve heard of those, haven’t you?”

I glance at Leader, who scratches the back of his neck.

“…Partially,” I admit. “It’s to do with the reason I know about the ointments, from another Conqueror.”

“Another Conqueror. Another Conqueror indeed. Alright, listen up, because we’re about to blow your minds--”

Shadows deepen unnaturally, pooling at his feet and stretching outward, devouring the faint blue light of the glowing mushrooms.

I freeze. My stomach knots as I recognize the signs. It’s the same as when I’ve seen Sensei summon something beyond human comprehension -- when Demeter and Ariadne appeared.

It’s subtle at first, like ozone before a thunderstorm. With a soft crack, reality ripples near Silas’s side. Leader stumbles back, nearly tripping over a rock. “W-What’s happening?!”

The figure solidifies from the opal lines. She steps through she’s been here all along, unseen and unnoticed. Her entrance is silent yet booming in its presence. Her hair flows like liquid lapis, cascading with a luster that seems to have its own light. Behind her glasses is an analytical, playful glint. Her bearing is both regal and casual, the kind of calm that says, I’ve already thought a hundred moves ahead.

“Uriel,” Silas greets, as though her appearance is as mundane but welcoming as the sunset. “Perfect timing.”

“A… A Deity?” Leader’s response catches in his throat.

Uriel adjusts her glasses, a soft giggle escaping her lips. “You catch on quickly,” she says, her voice critical and layered with a faint, teasing lilt.

I adjust my stance cautiously, Sensei’s and Demeter’s advice flashing through my mind. “You’ve been here this whole time?”

“Exactly,” Uriel answers, her sharp gaze brushing toward me. “Listening, observing, analyzing. It’s in my nature to gather as much data as I can before showing my hand. After all, why interfere prematurely when mortals have such… interesting conversations?”

Leader stares at her like she’s about to vaporize him. “Y-You were eavesdropping?”

Uriel’s lips curl into a sly smile. “Eavesdropping? Such a crude term. I was simply… ensuring the discourse remained enlightening with a timely entrance. Though,” she tilts her head toward Silas, “your companions do tend to skew the results with their naivety.”

“Hey!” I snap. “If you’re gonna insult us, say it to my face, not behind some fancy Deity talk!”

“I just did.”

Silas is clearly enjoying the spectacle. “Easy there, Brawler. Uriel’s only testing the waters. She gets a kick out of outthinking people -- it’s her hobby.”

“Hobby?” Uriel corrects, folding her arms. “It’s a necessity. After all, people are so delightfully prone to deception. They insist on making life more difficult than it needs to be. Even when the truth is right in front of them, they refuse to see it.”

Leader shifts uneasily, still glancing between Uriel and Silas. “She’s… really your goddess?”

“Sworn to me,” Silas confirms. “She’s the reason I can play with fire.”

“That’s my blessing. My Armament,” Uriel adds. Her eyes gleam behind her glasses as she looks directly at me. “Do you understand what that means, Brawler?”

Her gaze isn’t enough to shake my composure. “Not really. But I’ve seen the badass calling forth of a Deity before though, from a friend I used to travel with.”

“So you know another Armament User?” Her smile polishes. “That’s something.”

“Quit confusing them, Uriel. Let’s start with the basics for our new friends.” Silas’s flash of white teeth and eager warmth pulled us into his confidence, happy to share this burning secret. “When you get an Armament, it’s like your body says, ‘Oh, so you want to play with the big boys now?’ It’s a second coming-of-age, but this time, it doesn’t crack your voice or stretch your bones -- it remakes you. Faster. Tougher. You get a taste of what it feels like to be unstoppable. But the real magic? That’s the Armament’s blessing. That’s where the brilliance comes in.”

He raises a hand, shattered reality extends and retracts, and a small, controlled flame sparks to life. It dances across his knuckles like it’s alive, coiling and spinning. The glow bathes his sharp features and outfit, the heat of it brushing my face even from where I’m standing.

“See?” Silas says, the fire splitting into twin streams that swirl and merge back together. “Fire’s my thing. I can summon it, shape it, and make it do whatever I want… as long as it’s mine. Someone else lights a bonfire? That’s out of my power to play with. Laws of the universe seem to apply to everything, including blessings. Learn ‘em as you go, or you’ll burn yourself out -- literally, in my case.”

“What about the Deities?” Leader pipes up, eyes wide with curiosity. “When do you come down to bless people?”

Silas glances at us, then Uriel, then back at us, his grin fading into something quieter, more thoughtful. “When someone makes the world stop and take notice.”

His claim dangles around us, rich with meaning. “First to slay the Beast that everyone ran from. First to map a section of the Labyrinth that no one dared step into. First to claim a chunk of the world so big that it shakes the balance of superpowers. It’s not about being skilled -- it’s about taking your skill and pushing it until it breaks boundaries.”

“Picture it like this,” he continues. “You’re out here, fighting for survival, right? You’re giving it your all, putting everything on the line. But there’s someone out there who’s doing the same -- harder, faster, better. They’re making the impossible look easy. They were the ones who slayed the Cerberus Bear. The Deities notice all of us, but they would pay most of their heart’s attention to them. Also, morally good, morally bad -- it doesn’t mean a damn thing. A Deity of Chaos might bless the serial killer who left a village in ruins. A Deity of Compassion might bless the Paladin in dying breath who gave their life to save a child. Deities don’t waste time on shadows or whispers. They want brilliance. They want stories worth remembering, to be alongside the one they bless. However, don’t think it’s all skill. There’s a pinch of luck too. Right place, right time. That’s the part no one likes to admit. The kicker is: the harder you go, the luckier you get. Set your mind to it, be the absolute best you can be. Sounds simple, right? But you’d be shocked at how many people never get there. Too afraid, comfortable, too busy chasing someone else’s dream. That’s why we Conquerors are different. We trade a normal life for something bigger.”

The fire in his hand vanishes back into his palm, leaving the faintest trail of smoke curling up into the air. He dusts off his coat and looks at us like he’s sizing us up -- not just our strength, but our resolve. “So. Think you’ve got what it takes to make the Deities look your way?”

“Yes, but… I don’t get it. How is it you can wield fire? Is it thanks to you, Uriel?”

“In a sense. We grant you powers when we imparting our blessing; we make a pact with you. We plant a tiny artifact of shattered reality, right here.” She taps the center of her chest.

Leader looks to Silas. “Wait, so those dangerous lines are inside you? Like, literally?”

“As a safe gemstone. It’s a part of me, and not just some fancy ornament. That thing literally is my blessing, my power, and my curse, all wrapped up into one -- Uriel of Judgment’s Armament. Lose it, and I lose my life.”

My face pales as much as Leader’s. I learned most of this through Sensei and Demeter. However, this… It seems that her consideration had won over her hyperactive forwardness and she left this out to be child-friendly. “That can happen?”

“Well, not by any means other than someone wanting to steal it.” Silas’s eyes narrow, the heat in his expression more intense than the flames he summoned earlier. “If someone rips an Armament out of you, they don’t only steal your power. They capture your Deity. That’s when things can get real ugly. The moment they get their hands on your Armament, the Deity’s servitude is also theirs.”

Leader gasps. “So… if someone steals your Armament, you die, and they get your god? They get you, Uriel?”

“Yes. Along with the powers I bestowed once I decided to bless Silas.”

“That’s insane.”

“Insane,” Silas repeats, a dark chuckle escaping him. “But it happens. Degenerate Conqueror Families go full-blown mafia mode when they catch wind of an Armament User making an easy target. A few small countries even have entire militarized forces dedicated to hunting Armament Users. And trust me, ninety percent of them aren’t looking to recruit -- they’re looking to own.”

Leader leans in. “So… the Nation Elite. Do they have a lot of Armament Users?”

Silas considers the question. “I know this because I’m ex-Nation Elite -- they’ve got the most out of any organized force, but compared to their size? Percentage-wise? Not really. Armament Users are rare, even for them. But make no mistake -- the ones they do have? They’re titans of good. Depending on their blessing, one Armament User is enough to turn the tide of a battle. Two are a death sentence for a small army. And don’t get me started on Families made entirely of Armament Users. You collect enough, and you become unstoppable.”

I clench my fists, something hot and angry stirring in my chest. “That’s… disgusting. Deities are people, not collectibles.”

Silas’s mouth makes an ‘o,’ fixing me with a piercing look, his grin returning, but it’s affectionate now. “Uriel, you sure are a person.”

“I like this one. A good addition to our Family. But it’s the reality. People see power and they want it. To some, it doesn’t matter who gets hurt. The strong survive, and the weak are swallowed up.”

“That’s the game some Conquerors play, giving us a bad rep.”

Leader frowns, his voice small. “But… aren’t Deities supposed to protect their chosen? How could they let this happen?”

Uriel looks playfully irked. “I don’t protect you at all, do I?”

“They do.”

“No, I do!”

“When a Deity blesses you, they’re bound to you, same as you’re bound to them. That’s not something they take lightly. They’re placing their complete confidence in you -- in your ambition, strength, in your future. They believe you’ve got what it takes to carry their power and make something of it.”

There’s no mistaking the passion behind his words. He claps a firm hand on Leader’s shoulder, making him wobble slightly. “But don’t think for a second that an Armament will do the heavy lifting for you. It’s a boost, sure, a hell of a boost, but it’s not the foundation. That’s all you. You’re the one who decides how far you’ll go. An Armament isn’t the reason you’re powerful -- it’s a reflection of the strength you’ve already built. It’s the trust in yourself, magnified. So don’t go chasing blessings, dreaming of the power they’ll give you. Build yourself up first. Push your limits. Because when the time comes -- if the time comes -- and a Deity sees your worth? That’s not luck. That’s everything you’ve fought for, everything you’ve become, paying off. When that happens, don’t waste it. That’s your ticket to something bigger. But first comes you. Always you.”

Leader nods in admiration and I can feel my own heart pounding. “I’m ready. I’m ready to improve as a Conqueror.”

“Are you? Or are you gonna run back to Rosebell to your part-time jobs?”

“Not a chance. We’re going all the way!”

“That’s what I like to hear. Welcome to the game.”

On Silas’s fingers, I notice small drops of blood have collected from where the shattered reality had originated. “You’re bleeding…”

“That’s the cost of using an Armament’s blessing. Those shards cut into me.”

“I try to help minimize that cost for him. But a cost is a cost. Blood for the power over the breaking of reality. All Armaments have this bad reminder that the ones we bless are still human, even if our esteem has us see them as much greater.”

“If I don’t abuse Uriel’s lent power, my wound eventually closes. See? Self-regeneration -- No damage at all! Haaha~, it’s a profitable trade if you ask me.” Indeed, his small slit has already closed, perfectly healed throughout our conversation. “Of course, such world-shattering abilities have limitations. I have to wait until my wound closes before Armament reactivation. Rapid conjunction would mean permanent loss of a body part plus the loss of my lifespan. That’s one of the so-called ‘Great Rules’ that binds the entire universe. Even the most rule-breaking trailblazer would know to avoid breaking that!”