CHAPTER 197: THE GODS WANT.

Hundreds of Years Ago...

The world was ruled by gods, as they called themselves.

Demons, humans, and demi-humans were all subjugated under the iron rule of the gods.

None were able to disobey whatever orders were granted by the deities of the heavenly realm.

Gods whose faces had never been seen.

How did the gods then communicate with the humans?

Angels.

Vessels created from the tears of the God of Life, acting as divine slaves to carry out the will of the gods in their stead.

Every now and then, these angels would appear at different corners of the world, or at specific locations, and issue the command given to them from the gods above.

"Good day to you, Mortal."

This time, the white angel appeared in a small village on the human continent. The villagers who were passing by all raised their heads, fear already etched on their faces when they saw the angel.

Because, for a fact, they knew the angel was about to deliver news to them—news that could either plunge them into depression or leave them relieved for a while.

The angel continued to voice out, "I bring forth to you a message from the God of Wine. He requests that you hand over the finest female you can offer. The God of Wine is in need of a woman to spend the night with."

A few seconds after the angel delivered the message, a bright portal appeared on the ground. Those who had seen this play out before instantly knew what it was.

It was the gate to the heavenly realm, which meant that was where they were expected to drop the girl the god had requested.

Disgust and sadness were etched on the villagers’ faces as the message began to sink in. Many of the women who were outside with their daughters already began to huddle their children close to them in fear.

At the forefront of the entire group was a man with long black hair, wearing rags and holding a staff that he placed on the floor. He was the leader.

And because he was the leader, they all had their eyes turned to him, glinting with fear and a bit of hope.

Slowly raising his head to look at the angel, he spoke, "Pardon me, Light Messenger. If I may be permitted to speak?"

At first, it seemed as though the angel was about to ignore him, but then slowly, it looked towards the village head. "Human. We, the messengers, remember you. You may speak."

"I am fortunate that you remember a lowly human like me. Do forgive my audacity, but is it possible for the God of Wine to spare us this one time? In the last week, he has already taken fifteen girls from my village. Any more, and we may-"

The angel’s eyes suddenly glowed a faint red light.

Before the man could fully understand what had happened, his left hand had been blown off from his shoulder in one fell swoop.

A large gasp echoed from the crowd watching, all of whom seemed as though they were about to burst out crying any moment.

The village head groaned in pain, gripping the arm that had been severed to stop the blood from dripping to the ground anymore.

Then the angel’s voice followed, "How dare you question the orders given from a god? Do you wish to die? Humans should only act and not speak. Bring forth the girl the gods have requested."

Pain appeared on the man’s face, more from sadness than the injury he sustained. He looked to the side, where he could see his wife crying her eyes out, his two daughters right next to her.

One had long black hair, and the other short. Turning to the rest of the villagers, he could see them all immediately trying to hide their daughters; no one wanted it to be them.

Logically, the village head couldn’t blame them.

Truth be told, of the last fifteen girls the gods had requested, none had come from his side and were mostly from the villagers. It was time for him to bear some responsibility.

The village head bowed to the angel. "As the gods wish."

He stood to his feet and began making slow, steady steps to his wife. Even before he arrived there, they could already tell what he was planning to do.

Eyes fell to the ground, unable to watch their lord sacrifice his own family for them.

His wife stood before their daughters, shaking her head while crying, "Yapa, not them, please not them. They have done nothing wrong but be born into this accursed world. I beg of you." She fell to her knees, crying her eyes out.

"Take me. Let me go instead of our daughters. Yashi still has her dreams, so does Yaho. I beg of you, please don’t take them."

The man ignored his wife, his eyes filled with tears as he grabbed Yaho by the hand, his daughter with the short black hair. She tried to fight, pleading with her father while she was being dragged away.

She was only sixteen; what could the gods possibly want with someone as young as her?

Nothing she said got into her father’s head. He looked away, still dragging her towards the portal.

The village head’s family tried to fight him to get her back, but the other villagers stopped them, knowing it was better to lose one than to lose an entire family.

Soon, the village head placed his daughter at the edge of the portal with a single hand.

All that was left was for him to let go, and she would fall into the portal.

"Father, Papa! I don’t want to go. I don’t want to be with the gods, Papa!" Yaho cried out, her cries echoing through the entire gathering.

Suddenly, her cries stopped as her father hugged her.

"My daughter. My wonderful girl."

She sniffed, the tears still dropping at the side of her cheeks.

"I want you to be a good girl for me, okay?" he whispered, his voice thick with sorrow. "The gods... the gods have chosen you for a great honor."

Yaho didn’t understand the honor her father spoke of, only the fear coiling in her gut. She clung to him, desperately seeking refuge in his tattered clothes.

"Be brave, my Yaho. You are strong, like your mother."

He gently pulled away from the embrace, his single remaining hand stroking her short hair one last time. His gaze lingered on her face, a silent apology etched in the depths of his tear-filled eyes.

Then, before she could scream again, he pushed her.

Yaho tumbled backward into the bright, swirling portal. The villagers turned their heads away, unable to bear the sight, while her mother and sister wailed inconsolably.

The village head, Yapa, watched the bright light consume his daughter, his body shaking with silent, profound grief.

As soon as Yaho vanished, the portal snapped shut, leaving no trace it had ever been there.

The angel, still hovering serenely, cleared its throat. "The God of Wine thanks you for your offering, Human. Another messenger will be dispatched when the gods have further need of you."

Without waiting for a reply, the white angel ascended rapidly, disappearing into the clouds above.

Yapa stood rooted to the spot, his lost hand throbbing, his heart shattered.

He was the leader, the protector, and he had sacrificed his own flesh and blood to appease a thirsty, cruel deity.

A heavy silence descended upon the village, broken only by the continuous sobs of his wife. This was their life under the gods: a cycle of fear, obedience, and inevitable sacrifice. They knew that tomorrow, or the day after, the white light would descend again.

This was the reality of the gods. And Yashi saw it all play before her eyes.

.....

Present Time.

Gasp!

Yahoshi suddenly opened her eyes, finding herself sleeping right on top of a tombstone, surrounded by candles. She was dressed in a long black dress, her hair packed over her shoulder and resting on her chest.

She was awake.

Slowly, Yahoshi sat upright, her gaze first turning to the left where she could see the entrance of the cave where she was currently in.

"Did I arrive too soon?"

She swept her legs to the side, about to stand to her feet. "Doesn’t matter. My love is waiting for me. I have kept him waiting long enough, I can’t keep—"

As soon as she stood on one leg, she began to fall to the ground from losing her footing. Before she could crash, a figure appeared in front of her.

It was a woman with long pink hair, wearing a long red gown with a witch’s hat on her head.

She allowed Yahoshi to rest her head on her bosom, a serious look on her face as she watched Yahoshi struggle to stand on her own.

"You haven’t fully recovered. I know you are undetectable now, but forcing your way into this world like that left you damaged. You need to take better care of yourself."

Yahoshi, now standing on her two feet, looked at the woman with dead eyes and uttered, "Why are you here? I thought I told you all to leave me alone."

...

[A/N]

Welcome to Vol 3 and also happy new month. Thank you for following this book as far as you have; i truely do appreciate it. I hope we can explore more of the story with this volume. Let’s goooo.