Location: Solencia Outskirts Watchtower – Dawn
Mist clung to the high stone terraces of Solencia's northern watchtowers, where patrols stood vigilant for any sign of the newly awakened World Calamity—an ancient force said to be sealed away millennia ago. Itsuki Hiroto, still recovering from last night's seal‑repair marathon, trudged up the spiral steps with Virelya at his flank and Sera trailing behind, satchel of emergency teacups in hand.
At the summit, the Captain of the Watch—a grizzled veteran named Maren—paused in mid‑report, eyes widening at Hiroto's approach. "Guildmaster Hiroto," she said, voice tight, "we've received… unsettling intelligence."
Hiroto rubbed his temples. "Let me guess: another prophecy?"
Maren spread a tattered map on the crenelated ledge. "Far worse. They say the God of Calamity has returned. Our scrying wards caught a roiling shadow north of the Frostglade Pass." She tapped the map. "Local villages report cataclysmic storms—and they're calling you its 'successor.'"
Hiroto's eyes bulged. "Successor? Me? I'm still a clerk in an apron!"
Virelya stepped forward, hand on her sword's pommel. "What do they want us to do?"
Maren met Hiroto's gaze. "They expect you to confront it. They fear only your… inadvertent power can match the Calamity."
Hiroto slumped. "Of course they do."
---
Location: Frostglade Pass Battlefield – Mid‑Morning
An icy wind whipped through the jagged cliffs of Frostglade Pass. Snow‑streaked corpses of shattered golems and shattered wagons lined the path, each bearing scorch marks and claw‑raked splintering. Mages from the Arcane Circle huddled behind warded crystals, desperately chanting protective spells.
At the center of the chaos stood the Calamity—a towering, wraith‑like entity of churning stormclouds, eyes glowing molten gold. Its thunderous roar rattled the mountainsides, and bolts of searing lightning danced across its vaporous form.
"The seal… truly failed," whispered one mage. "We were too late."
Virelya drew her sword. "Stay behind me, Captain."
Sera offered Hiroto a steaming teacup from her satchel. "You're going to need this."
Hiroto raised the cup in a trembling salute to the storm‑beast. "I… don't even know how to negotiate with a god." He took a sip, hands shaking as the warmth spread through him.
---
Location: Frostglade Pass – Confrontation
With a crack of lightning, the Calamity hurled a bolt at the skyward battlements. Mages' wards shimmered and fared poorly under its fury. Virelya shouted, "Focus on protection!" and formed a warded barrier to deflect the arcs.
Hiroto stared at the roaring entity. "I'm not the God of anything!" he protested, voice drowned by thunder. "I just want tea!"
Mages called out, "Succ-ces-sor! Succ-ces-sor!" Their voices echoed like a broken chant.
Hiroto's cheek twitched. "I'm not your successor!" He set his teacup on a frost‑polished rock. "Stop saying my name!"
Virelya grabbed his arm. "If you don't—"
Before she could finish, Hiroto snapped. Overwhelmed by the storm's noise, the prophecy's weight, and the ridiculous expectations placed on him, he raised his right hand and gave the vaporous Calamity a single, open‑palm slap—not a strike, but a delicate tap on its misty cheek.
For a heartbeat, nothing happened. Then:
A brilliant pulse of magic exploded outward. Lightning reversed, storms collapsed into gentle rain, and the earth trembled. The Calamity's form wavered, then dispersed in a cascade of silver sparks—like embers dissolving in air. Within seconds, the towering storm‑beast vanished, leaving only a whisper of wind.
Horsemen froze. Mages gaped. Virelya blinked. Sera's teacup shattered on the rock.
Hiroto staggered, hand trembling where it had made contact. "I—I… just slapped it?"
A mage sputtered, voice trembling. "Your… your palm… it… it unwove its form!"
Virelya's sword clattered to the ground as she sheathed it. "Did you just kill a god… with a slap?"
Hiroto stared at his hand. "I… erased it?"
---
Location: Frostglade Pass – Aftermath
Silence enveloped the battlefield. Icicles dripped, and the clouds parted, revealing frozen peaks and bright sky. Impromptu cheers—then stunned gasps—broke out among the survivors.
One enraptured archer knelt. "Hail the Slap of Providence!"
A cleric rapped his staff on the ground. "He is truly the successor… of peace?"
Virelya stomped a boot into the mud and glared at Hiroto. "Explain this to the summit—or they'll blame me for your 'slap of annihilation.'"
Hiroto rubbed his palm, voice hollow. "I… didn't mean to. It was an accident."
Sera sidled up, ladling Soothing Vapor from a flask. "Accidentally turned a god into dust. You're really on a roll."
Hiroto closed his eyes, breathing deeply of the crisp mountain air. If my slip of the wrist can erase a calamity… what else do they expect me to 'accidentally' do?
---
Location: Solencia Summit Hall – Early Afternoon
Word of the Calamity's eradication by Hiroto's slap raced through the realms. Delegates reconvened in the Summit Hall, faces flushed with excitement—or fear.
Chancellor Beltram rose first, voice wavering. "Captain Hiroto—our world owes you its life… again. A slap that shattered the Calamity…" He shook his head in awe. "I… can't comprehend."
Bishop Elgar stepped forward, crozier trembling. "The prophecy's third sign is fulfilled: the Final Whisper shall be but a breath—a slap, a sneeze, a twitch—and the world is spared."
Hiroto's mouth gaped. "A… Final Whisper?"
Elgar raised the prophecy scroll. "By tomorrow's dawn, the Seal of Worlds will be reinforced… and you, Silent One, will guide the ritual."
Sera held his arm. "And you were sleepy five minutes ago."
Virelya sheathed her sword. "Get some rest, Hiroto. You've earned it… and maybe spare us any more divine slap‑techniques."
---
Location: Serenity Teahouse – Dusk
That evening, the trio found themselves back in the Serenity Teahouse. The retired monk, Master Hei, poured them each a cup of Midnight Tranquility Tea—a blend said to calm even gods.
Hiroto cradled his cup, head heavy. "I'm supposed to guide a ritual… for a prophecy I didn't ask for."
Sera slid him a steamed bun. "You also beat back a Calamity. Don't underestimate that slap."
Virelya placed a hand on his shoulder. "You have more control than you think. If a slap can save the world, perhaps your whisper will seal its fate."
Hiroto managed a thin smile. "At least I get to nap afterward."
Above them, lanterns swayed gently. Outside, the city prepared for the final ritual. Though Hiroto's slap had erased the God of Calamity, the weight of prophecy still rested on his shoulders—and the world watched for the next unexpected miracle.
One thing was clear: in a life defined by unwanted destiny and accidental heroics, Hiroto's quietest moments had proven the most powerful. And now, as sleep beckoned, he realized that sometimes the gentlest touch could change the fate of all things.