"If you defeat that Sea King in single combat, Lord of the Storm won't be shameless enough to intervene," Elaria Moonfest said, idly twirling a golden goblet in her fingers. Her expression remained composed, but her words held unmistakable weight.
She paused, her gaze settling on Eli Walker. "However, you must understand—once the Church of Storms produces its first Angel, its first true Calamity, its first Pope—then that Angel will surely come to exact retribution. I can shield you from the Church's future Angel, but if I do… Lord of the Storm himself may act."
Even as a Calamity at Sequence 2, Elaria bore no fear of the Storm Church's eventual Calamity. The gap between an Angel and a subordinate god was vast—but if Lord of the Storm were to intervene directly, the consequences would be far more dangerous and unpredictable.
"I understand," Eli replied evenly. "But the Church of Storms will only produce its first Angel after I do."
"And if their future Pope seeks to settle the score… I'll pay them a visit in the North Continent and play with them there."
His tone was calm, detached—the demeanor of someone who had long since considered every possibility. The very fact that Leodero remained overhead was what prevented him from advancing further.
"You've found a Calamity characteristic?" Elaria asked, her posture shifting slightly, the tone of her voice sharpening.
"I have," Eli replied. "It belonged to one of the Elves' former subordinate gods."
"The one the Elf King never reclaimed?" Elaria's voice softened slightly. A flicker of sorrow crossed her eyes.
"You're aware that the characteristic was tainted by underground corruption, aren't you?"
"I am. But I believe I've found a way to separate it."
Elaria arched a brow. "If you were speaking of characteristics below Sequence 2, I might believe you. But you are already a Calamity. Even as a subordinate god who has integrated multiple multi-Pathway Sequence 2 characteristics, separating a Calamity characteristic is not something within your current reach."
She leaned forward slightly. "There are, canonically, only four recognized methods of extracting characteristics from the same Pathway."
"One: Radiant dissection via the Sun Pathway or the flesh-tearing of the Fallen Creator. Two: separation through childbirth. Three: theft via divine authority—like that wielded by the Angel of Theft. Four: death."
"All of these require either domain authority or the power of an Angel."
Eli didn't argue. As a transmigrator, his understanding far exceeded that of any native. Each of the four extraction methods aligned with Pillar-level authority.
He was well aware that Elaria might have assimilated a Visionary Pathway Sequence 2 characteristic—specifically, from the White Tower—but she had never touched upon the Sun or Hanged Man pathways. Her understanding, while accurate, lacked deeper dimensional insight.
"The Elves have something else," Elaria said quietly. "A Grade 0 Sealed Artifact—something you humans would call aligned with the 'Mother' Pathway."
"This isn't a sacrifice for me," she added. "But even with the protection of Luck, fewer and fewer of our people survive to maturity—let alone reach the level of an Angel. I don't like admitting it, but humanity develops far faster than we do."
"That's only because they're more numerous," Eli said with a shrug.
Elaria's gaze sharpened. "The suppression upon us grows heavier with each passing century. We're being pushed further and further from the world's center."
"You are the most promising of our new generation, Eli. You are an emblem of hope for the Elves. If you succeed, more of our kind might begin to believe in their potential again."
Eli was silent for a moment. The distant crashing of waves filled the pause.
"The reason I hesitate to ascend," he said finally, "is not fear of failure. It's that my advancement might alert Lord of the Storm. And He could simply smite me on a whim."
"The God of Luck can obscure your fate," Elaria said. "Not perfectly. But enough to preserve your life."
Eli considered that. It wasn't the God of Luck's character he questioned—only His Sequence. The deity was only Sequence 1.
"I'll wait," he said. "Until I acquire Groselle's Travels. The Book World offers spatial-temporal isolation far more reliable than any Sequence 1 Great Angel."
If Leodero truly cast aside all decorum and chose to act personally, the Book World would be their only path to survival.
"In that case," Elaria said dryly, placing her goblet aside, "I won't ask you to get yourself killed."
"Secondary contamination won't kill you. In fact, some corruption enhances resistance to mind-reading and divination."
Eli chuckled softly. "Mind-reading is rudimentary. I can do that too."
Elaria studied him carefully. "If you refuse my aid—and the God of Luck's—then what name should I call you by?"
Eli met her eyes and smiled faintly.
"My name is Eli Walker. I'm a native of the West Continent, from an era even older than the Dark Epoch—perhaps even as ancient as the original Sun God's time."
"During the Divine War, I awakened the memories of my true self. Now, I simply want to live—and take care of the Elves, who share my origin."
He spoke easily, with no hint of shame or evasion.
"A transmigrator…" Elaria murmured.
"You and the Sun God came from the same era?"
"Yes," Eli answered. "He was born a dual-Pathway True God. I haven't even reached Angel. Of course I envy Him."
"Don't inquire too much about our time. Back then, Beyonders didn't exist yet. It was another world entirely."
He looked up into the sky, memories and ambition dancing in his eyes.
To be a remnant of an Outer Deity—
That wasn't a curse.
It was a gift.