Chapter 22 – Two Choices
Nameless stood at the center of the arena, arms folded, eyes scanning the immortals below.
One disciple.
That was Shiva's condition.
But Nameless was not a simple man.
He began thinking.
Two options.
If I choose the weakest immortal and turn them into a god…
It becomes a legend.
A nobody raised by a monster.
A story people will repeat for eras.
But if I choose the strongest immortal…
Then it becomes efficiency.
Polish a blade that is already sharp.
Give him the right weapon, the right push — and godhood would come naturally.
He smiled slightly.
"Why not both?"
His gaze stopped on a fragile-looking immortal standing at the edge of the arena.
Not a man.
A woman.
Her aura was thin compared to the others, unstable, flickering.
But her eyes—
They were wild.
"What do you want to become?" Nameless asked her directly.
She stiffened but didn't kneel.
"…The Goddess of Chaos."
Murmurs exploded around her.
Bold.
Dangerous.
A female counterpart to destruction itself.
Nameless grinned.
"Ambitious. I like it."
Then his eyes shifted to the opposite side.
The strongest immortal present.
Massive aura. Stable foundation. Perfect control.
"You," Nameless pointed.
The young man looked up calmly.
"If you ascend, what will you become?"
"The God of Dragons."
The air vibrated faintly at those words.
Dragons were ancient. Prideful. Dominant.
Nameless nodded slowly.
"Good. Very good."
He turned toward Shiva.
"I choose these two."
Silence.
Then—
Shiva looked at him with a blank expression.
"How many brain cells do you possess?" Shiva asked calmly.
"Zero," Nameless replied instantly.
Shiva blinked once.
"…That is accurate."
The arena trembled with suppressed reactions.
"I told you to choose one," Shiva continued, voice now firm.
"So what's wrong with two?" Nameless shrugged. "It's called insurance. If one fails, the other succeeds. Efficient planning."
"I said one."
The gentleness was gone.
The tone was absolute.
Even gods straightened their posture.
For a moment, Nameless considered arguing logically.
Then he stopped.
Logic would not work here.
So he changed tactics.
He lowered his head slightly.
"Lord… as your devoted follower… grant me this one wish."
The entire arena froze.
Nameless.
Asking.
With devotion.
Shiva narrowed his eyes.
He knew this trick.
When intelligence fails… devotion works.
And Shiva had one weakness.
He granted the sincere wishes of his followers.
Silence stretched.
Finally, Shiva exhaled.
"…Very well."
Gasps echoed.
"But," Shiva continued, "the masters of those two immortals must agree."
Nameless slowly turned toward the gods standing behind the two candidates.
Their expressions were stiff.
Unwilling.
Afraid.
They knew being trained by Nameless meant one thing—
Extreme methods.
Before they could speak—
Nameless casually pulled out his sword.
He examined the blade thoughtfully.
"It's been a while since I used this," he said lightly. "Feels rusty."
The message was clear.
The gods swallowed.
Shiva stared at him.
"Nameless. Do you feel no shame?"
"No," Nameless replied honestly. "A man survives by being shameless."
A long silence followed.
Shiva rubbed his forehead.
Why did I choose him?
This was both his best and worst decision.
Nameless was brilliant.
But several screws were definitely loose.
If my brother sees this, he will laugh at me for centuries, Shiva thought.
Still—
The choice had been made.
"Three days," Shiva announced. "Preparation begins now."
The arena slowly dispersed.
Nameless turned toward the two immortals he had chosen.
The weak woman who wanted to become Chaos.
The strong man who dreamed of Dragons.
He studied them carefully.
Then he sighed.
"Alright," he muttered. "Now comes the annoying part."
He looked at them directly.
"Tell me. Where are you weak? Where are you strong?"
His eyes sharpened.
"And don't lie. If you lie, I'll break you before the training even starts."
For the first time—
The two immortals realized.
Becoming a god under Nameless…
Might be worse than fighting him.