The Ultimate Lich King of the Multiverse

4/5

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"Sigh… I wish time would pass just a little slower."

Around seven or eight in the morning, Riveria left the city walls with slightly unsteady steps and a dazed look. She had snuck out from her Familia to come here—if someone found out, it could cause a lot of problems. So she had to return early.

Even though the Loki Familia had just returned from an expedition and was officially resting, there were still many responsibilities Riveria had to handle.

After Riveria left, Yoru stood up with a sigh, looking somewhat unsatisfied.

In just a few short hours, Riveria had only taught Yoru the most basic and foundational principles of a mage's training. But even those simple foundations were incredibly beneficial to him.

Because from just a few words, she had helped him find direction.

All this time, Yoru had been reluctant—afraid, even—of the power within his body. But after hearing Riveria's words, he finally awakened to how foolish he had been.

"Fearing my own power… it really is pathetic, isn't it? Power is meant to be wielded without hesitation—because I am its master."

A twisted smile tugged at the corner of his lips as a sound of shattering ice echoed from his clenched fist.

With a wave of his hand, shimmering ice shards scattered behind him, instantly frosting the bricks of the city wall with a thin layer of white.

"I've always been a mage—so why was I trying to abandon the thing I'm best at and fight in close combat?"

Only now did Yoru finally admit that Hephaestus truly lived up to her name as the greatest blacksmith, worthy of the title "Goddess of the Forge."

It had seemed like she forged him a longsword on Hestia's suggestion, but in reality, that sword—crafted for maximum mana conductivity—was actually a magic staff.

Shaped like a knight's greatsword but as light as a rapier, with exceptional flexibility, it was never meant for wide, sweeping slashes. In fact, its pliable blade meant that using it like a traditional sword would only sap its power.

"Well played, Hephaestus. You even fooled me."

Yoru laughed and shook his head. Gripping the hilt tightly, he activated his frost magic.

A layer of white frost spread across the blade instantly, but Yoru didn't stop there—he kept channeling his mana into the sword until he heard it crack.

From the start, he had never used his full power. As he had said before, not even divine weapons could withstand his frost.

Although Hephaestus was the Goddess of the Forge, her creations in the mortal world were still, ultimately, limited by mortal constraints.

Even so, she had clearly poured her heart into this weapon. It was nothing like the toy-like weapons Yoru had crushed so easily back in her shop.

But after channeling nearly his full power for just over ten seconds, the longsword shattered completely—leaving behind a light object that landed in his palm.

It had the texture of wood, with an uneven surface. What fell into Yoru's hand looked like an ordinary piece of firewood.

"What… is this?"

Yoru stared curiously at the item in his hand.

It was roughly the size of a staff, but unlike the elegantly crafted magical tools he'd seen, this one was crude and black, with a twisted shape. Anyone might mistake it for a stick used to stoke a fire.

He didn't know what it was, but one thing was certain: this thing wasn't crafted by Hephaestus.

Because Yoru could sense from it a power that was anything but ordinary—a divine force beyond this world.

As he stared at the stick with growing intrigue, a soft glow rose from the sword's shattered remains and projected a figure into the air.

"This way of meeting… really is a little annoying."

A weary voice rang out, and Hephaestus's face appeared before him.

"If you're seeing this message, it means you've uncovered the secret hidden within that sword. As much as I hate to admit it… I lost. I couldn't create a weapon capable of withstanding your power."

Her projection wore a solemn expression.

"To be honest, I didn't want you to see this message. I even hoped you would just become a swordsman—maybe that would've avoided a lot of trouble."

"Listen carefully. Your power doesn't belong to this world. Hestia might not know your past, but I'm sure of it—you're either a descendant of a god… or maybe even a reincarnated deity yourself."

"In my memory, only the goddess of snow and frost, Dione, wielded such ice powers. But I don't think you're related to her. Because your frost is stronger, more terrifying, and far more aggressive."

"I should've reported your existence to the other gods. No one can guarantee that you won't someday become a threat to us all. But… I didn't. I didn't want to see that idiot Hestia heartbroken."

"I came across that stick purely by chance. I don't really know what it is—but I can tell you it's powerful. Its special property is that it can absorb any kind of magic. I think… it might be the perfect weapon for you."

"And one last thing: remember what I'm telling you—learn to hide yourself. Don't do anything flashy, like confessing in public again. Otherwise, someone will notice you. And if that happens, both you and Hestia will be in serious danger."

With that final warning, Hephaestus's projection faded away, leaving Yoru standing alone, lost in thought.

Riveria had spoken of "inheritance," and now Hephaestus had confirmed it. So then… whose descendant was he?

Or perhaps… was he really a god reborn into a mortal body?

"But even with such an obvious trait like frost magic… I still can't find anyone who matches me."

Lay low, huh…? Sorry, Hephaestus. But there are things a man simply can't compromise on.

If it's for Riveria… then even if I have to rise against the gods themselves—so be it.

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