Godslayer's Legacy: THE PATH TO SUPREMACY

The faint hum of the airship's engines faded as it completed its descent into the docking platform of the Council Citadel. Morning sunlight cast long shadows across the polished stone, catching on runic carvings that glowed faintly with mana. Rows of armored guards stood rigid, their gazes locked forward in disciplined silence.

Standing at the foot of the ramp was Kaelith Varun, one of the Six High Councilors. His emerald robes, embroidered with golden sigils, moved gently in the wind, and his sharp emerald eyes—framed by thin circular glasses—focused intently on the descending ramp.

Rui stepped down first, his silver eyes glancing briefly at the assembled figures before settling on Kaelith. The faint glow of the silver veins threading across his pale skin remained constant, pulsing softly with his steady heartbeat.

Behind him, Kovar followed, his glass dome flickering faintly with diagnostic displays before dimming entirely.

Kaelith's gaze flickered briefly between Rui and Kovar before he spoke, his voice smooth and calm.

"Rui. Captain Kovar. Welcome back."

Rui inclined his head faintly. "Councilor Varun."

Kovar gave a small, respectful nod. "Councilor."

Kaelith's emerald eyes lingered on Rui for a moment longer, searching, analyzing—but whatever conclusions he came to, he kept to himself.

"Walk with me," Kaelith said, turning and striding toward the inner halls of the Citadel. Rui and Kovar fell in step behind him.

---

The halls of the Soverign Council Citadel stretched before them—ornate, imposing, and filled with a faint hum of residual mana. Obsidian pillars, etched with golden runes, rose high into vaulted ceilings. Enormous stained-glass windows cast fractured patterns of colored light onto polished marble floors.

Rui walked slightly behind Kaelith, his silver eyes scanning the familiar halls. He had walked these same corridors months ago, though the weight on his shoulders felt far heavier now.

Kaelith spoke as they walked, his tone even but laced with faint tension.

"We felt it, you know. The Abyss. Or rather, the… change in it."

Rui glanced sideways at Kovar, who said nothing, his glass dome dimmed and unreadable.

Kaelith continued, not waiting for a response. "Every High Councilor felt it—a ripple through the mana veins beneath the continent. You stopped something, Rui. Something no one fully understands yet. And the world is beginning to notice."

Rui remained silent, his jaw tight.

Kaelith pushed open a set of massive double doors, leading them into a private council chamber—a circular room with an enormous crystal table set at its center. Light from the stained glass scattered faint rainbows across the dark marble floor.

Kaelith gestured for Rui and Kovar to sit, while he remained standing, emerald eyes sharp behind his glasses.

"Captain Kovar has given me his preliminary report, but I want to hear it from you, Rui." Kaelith's voice softened slightly. "What happened in the Abyss? How are you still standing here, alive, when others far stronger than you have fallen to its depths?"

The question hung in the air like a weight. Rui's silver eyes met Kaelith's emerald ones.

"I survived because I didn't have a choice," Rui said evenly. "The Abyss was… breaking. Something down there was tearing it apart, trying to spill out into the world. I stopped it."

Kaelith's sharp gaze remained locked on Rui. "How?"

Rui hesitated. The weight of the god's presence, the golden thread anchoring his core, the overwhelming moment of impossible clarity—it was all still so vivid in his mind. But the words stuck in his throat.

"Luck," Rui said finally. "Luck and… something else I don't fully understand."

Kaelith's brow furrowed faintly. It was clear he wasn't satisfied with that answer, but he didn't press further.

"Luck," he repeated softly, as if tasting the word and finding it bitter.

He turned his attention briefly to Kovar. "Captain, your assessment?"

Kovar straightened slightly, his gloved hands folding behind his back. "Rui's core is… tempered, Councilor. Stabilized in a way that defies traditional understanding. His mana flow doesn't match any standard Mage classification. But whatever happened in the Abyss, it didn't just save his life—it changed him."

Kaelith exhaled slowly, his sharp emerald eyes flickering briefly with something like calculation.

"There will be questions, Rui. From the Council, from the public, from forces outside this city. You didn't just stabilize the Abyss; you altered something fundamental about it. And the repercussions of that… they'll echo for a long time."

Rui's voice was steady as he spoke. "I didn't ask for this, Councilor. But whatever comes next, I'll face it."

Kaelith studied Rui for a long moment before nodding. "Good. You'll need that resolve."

---

Kaelith turned and walked toward one of the massive stained-glass windows, his emerald robes trailing faintly behind him. Sunlight broke through the colored glass, painting streaks of green and gold across the floor.

"The Council will convene soon," Kaelith said, his back still turned to them. "You'll be called to testify about what happened in the Abyss. Some will see you as a hero. Others will see you as a threat. And some… will see you as an opportunity."

Rui's fists clenched faintly, but he said nothing.

Kaelith turned back toward them, his expression composed but faintly weary. "For now, rest. Gather your thoughts. When the Council calls, be ready."

He gestured to the chamber doors, signaling their dismissal.

Rui stood, his silver eyes briefly locking with Kaelith's one last time before he turned and walked out, Kovar following close behind.

The heavy doors closed behind them with a deep, resonant thud.

As Rui walked down the grand hallway, his footsteps echoing faintly off the marble floors, he felt the weight of Kaelith's words settling heavily on his shoulders.

This wasn't over. Whatever had started in the Abyss—whatever had changed inside him—was only the beginning.

And somewhere deep within his core, the faint warmth of the golden thread still pulsed softly, an anchor he couldn't fully understand.

But for now, the only thing he could do was move forward—one step at a time.