"What do I want to do? God Whiro, you must have a guess in your mind, don't you?"
"Seriously?! You really want to kill me? I'm a god!"
"…"
Charlie's silence was the best response to Whiro's disbelief.
"Charlie Avalon, do you realize how serious it is to kill a god?"
"I do."
"…"
This time, it was Whiro's turn to fall silent. He looked into Charlie's cold, blue eyes and saw no trace of doubt or fear—only resolute determination. The other party was genuinely intent on killing him.
"I see… Now I understand why Hera broke her own rule and allowed a man into her Familia. Your personalities match—utter madness!"
"I don't want to hear that from you, God Whiro." Charlie replied.
During his brief time with Hera, Charlie had asked many questions, including about the possibility of killing a god.
The truth was, killing a god wasn't taboo or impossible.
Proof of that lay in Orario's Dark Era seven years ago, when seven gods were sent back to Heaven by Evilus suicide bombings.
The taboo was more of a consensus created by the gods who descended to the Lower World.
The majority of gods in Heaven actually hoped for the death of gods in the Lower World, as it meant they could take their turn to descend sooner. Meanwhile, the gods currently in the Lower World wanted their time to last forever, so they labeled god-killing as taboo.
However, for anyone with common sense, it wasn't something they'd want to do. After all, gods didn't truly die; they were merely sent back to Heaven.
The issue lay in the consequences. Naturally, gods forced back to Heaven would harbor deep grudges against those who ended their enjoyment in the Lower World.
Mortals would eventually die, whether in decades or centuries. When that happened, their souls would enter the afterlife, under the jurisdiction of the gods. The gods they wronged would seize their souls and essentially torment them for eternity.
In short, the soul of a god-slayer would face eternal suffering and torment in the afterlife.
"Do as you please. I've had enough fun in the Lower World. But… you'll pay a heavy price for your arrogance in killing a god, Charlie Avalon."
"When you die, your soul won't enter the cycle of reincarnation. I'll torment your soul until you wish you were never born and regret the decision you made today."
Facing death, Whiro didn't resist or beg. He chose to mock and leave a real threat.
"That day may never come."
"What do you mean?"
"…"
Charlie didn't explain to Whiro.
Thanks to eating mermaid flesh in his past, he was practically ageless and would never grow old. In essence, he was immortal. Unless killed or driven to suicide, Charlie wouldn't die of old age.
(No matter how long it takes until I grow tired of living, by then, I'll surely be incredibly strong. It's not impossible for my power to rival or even surpass a god.)
The essence of Falna was a blessing that allowed adventurers to grow stronger by accumulating Excelia. In theory, Falna could bring an adventurer close to divinity, as its upper limit was the gods themselves.
Unfortunately, in the millennium since gods descended to the Lower World, no adventurer had reached a double-digit level.
(If I can't break through to a double-digit level in my long life, I'd truly be living in vain. Especially with the rewards from Gaia and Alaya for completing Quests. I don't believe my power won't surpass gods—at least, the gods of this world.)
In fact, when his strength was sufficient, Charlie had an even grander ambition: to storm Heaven and slaughter the Evil Gods, or perhaps seal Heaven so gods could no longer interfere with the Lower World, as Gilgamesh did at the end of the Age of Gods.
"Why are you just standing there? Don't you want to kill me? Hurry up and do it!"
Whiro's provocation snapped Charlie out of his thoughts.
"As you wish."
To avoid leaving direct traces—who knew if there was a way to track a god's killer—Charlie chose an indirect method.
*BUZZ!*
He condensed his magical essence at the tips of his ten fingers, forming invisible threads of energy. These threads flowed and attached to a headless corpse nearby.
Like a puppeteer controlling a marionette, Charlie manipulated the corpse.
With stiff movements, the corpse picked up a sword lying on the ground and, with strength provided by Charlie, thrust it into Whiro's left chest.
*PU-CHI!*
Instantly, Whiro's body glowed with golden light—his Arcanum automatically tried to heal the fatal wound.
*BUZZ!*
However, using Arcanum to save oneself in the Lower World was immediately detected by the world's laws, governed by the collective will of the gods.
A brighter, more powerful light radiated from Whiro's body, pulling him upward.
"Here's my parting gift to you. From this day on, you'll be an enemy to every god! Hahaha…!"
Whiro's mocking laughter echoed as he left a final curse before his form completely vanished in the light, forcibly returned to Heaven.
"…"
"A curse? Too bad, curses don't work on me."
Charlie spoke as he gazed at the sky where Whiro's light had faded. He knew exactly what Whiro meant by his parting gift.
When a mortal killed a god—or in this case, forced them back to Heaven—their soul would automatically be marked with an indelible metaphysical brand.
This brand was eternal proof of their greatest sin, a signal instantly recognizable to any god who saw it. It would make that person a common enemy of all gods, hunted without exception.
After all, gods wouldn't tolerate someone capable of threatening their avatars in the Lower World and ending their vacation prematurely.
But Charlie wasn't worried. He possessed the Chosen Savior skill.
Among the extraordinary abilities granted by The Chosen Savior skill, one was particularly relevant now: the highest rank of Abnormal Resistance, making him immune to all negative status effects, from poison and instant death to the subtlest, like… curses.
So, when the curse was supposed to mark his soul, The Chosen Savior skill neutralized it instantly. Charlie's soul remained clean, pure, without any mark or brand.
There was no evidence that he was responsible for Whiro's death. To any god who saw him later, Charlie would appear as an ordinary adventurer, bearing no god-slayer's mark.
"Huuu…"
Charlie shifted his attention from the sky to the reality before him.
"Remaining tasks: free the captives and escort them to safety."
He looked at the iron cages where the prisoners were held. Thanks to his sleeping gas, they were all peacefully asleep, shielded from the world-shaking events that had just occurred.
Their young faces, though dirty and marked by suffering, now looked serene in their sleep.