THEOS

When Luke blinked next, he was standing in a row between Rex and Arya along with all hundred of those who had passed the trial in four long rows, on what he recognized as the top of the pyramid they had just been climbing. It lacked any sort of roof, or walls, leaving them free to survey the Holy Land of Vulcan for as far as his eyes could see. Not that there was much to look at.

All that existed was fields of endless green grass and blue skies. The pyramid alone broke the monotony of the otherwise desolate environment.

Is this the divine kingdom of a god? Just some grass, denser mana, and while impressively big, a single structure? Saskatchewan might have more going on than this place. For a place called Vulcan, I was expecting at least a volcano or something. Luke thought to himself, unimpressed, before he focused his attention to the only thing of interest for thousands of miles.

Hephaestus was seated on a throne, a massive thing, but simple in style, and fashioned from the same silvery metal that everything else here was made of. With big armrests, and a straight back, it lacked any sort of embellishments. Nor did it look comfortable to sit on, but nonetheless, the god looked right at home on top of it. And despite every surface being spotless, shiny metal, the flattened tip of the pyramid somehow managed to seem warm and inviting. Luke felt like he had stepped back into his childhood home.

For a moment, paranoia clawed at him, and he wondered if he was under some strange mind altering effect again, but that didn’t seem to be the case, and he was inclined to trust his instincts.

Not that there was anything to be done if the ancient being before them decided it wanted to bring them harm. The difference in power between Luke and the god was ridiculous. Even entertaining the thought of fighting back would do him no good. Not that physical opposition was the only form of resistance one could achieve.

But something tells me, I’ll get smited if I mouth off to him, and that there won’t be any signs that I even existed once he’s done.

Before he could delve deeper into his thoughts, Hephaestus cleared his throat.

“Congratulations, to all of you, for making it this far. Each of you has shown me your grit and determination, and for that I applaud you. Your feats today prove that you are among the brightest stars of your generation. Not all of you, however, have come here as equals.” He clapped his hands together, and a cylindrical slab of metal rose out of the floor in front of each of them. “As such, your rewards for coming this far are also unequal.”

The top of the podiums hissed as they split apart, and a scroll rose into the air in front of him. Stopping its ascent once it was at the level of Luke’s eyes.

He didn’t need to open it, to know that whatever knowledge was contained inside, was precious. Its mere presence seemed more real than anything he owned, with only his sword, Maximus and the God Seed comparing.

Not daring to touch it just yet, he looked towards his left and right, and he was unsurprised to see a small assortment of objects floating in front of each of the contestants.

A few more had scrolls just like his, some had vials containing all sorts of things, and others weapons, and even articles of clothing. Peeking to the left and right of him, he found that Spiros, too, had been given a scroll, which like his, glowed with the weight of power of the knowledge it contained, but both Arya and Rex had gotten something else.

In front of Arya was a bottle that seemed to hold flickering blue fire that Luke had no idea the purpose of. While Rex had gotten a bow. Considering who had given it to him, it was bound to be both powerful and useful, but compared to the esoteric nature of the other rewards it was by far one of the more mundane prizes. Which to Luke, at least, made sense. Rex had quite literally been carried for a significant portion of the trial. By both him and Lukeus.

It's probably just a Warrior tier bow too. Well made, no doubt, but nothing too crazy. Then again, this isn’t the end of the tournament either. The real prizes will come later.

Seeing some of the others reach towards their own rewards, Luke did so as well.

The scroll unfurled itself the second it touched his hands, a beam of red light shot out of it, and instantly, he felt knowledge and understanding knock at his consciousness and request entry.

His instincts practically screamed for him to do so, much like they had when he was confronted with Cybele’s pomegranate seed.

Might as well. He thought with some amusement, it wasn’t like he wasn’t going to take it. The draw of a gift from a god was much too high, so both excited and apprehensive, he allowed it in.

Before he could regret his decision, the scroll disintegrated and a spike of pain shot through his head. Leaving him dazed, even as whatever it had imparted to him vanished, except for a rudimentary knowledge of what it was, and how to use it.

It took a few moments for his mind to clear, but when it did, he couldn’t help but stare at the god with wonder in his eyes.

Hephaestus had given Luke a spell. A part of Luke was tempted to compare it to a Technique, but that would be wrong.

Whereas the First Stances, and the First Truth of Death, were the realization of a fundamental truth of reality. Spells were simpler, and not a permanent ability, but no less amazing for it. What the deity had given him was akin to a button lodged in the same metaphysical space his mana was. One that when pressed, would execute its purpose. The major difference between it and techniques being that it didn’t require any understanding or commitment from him. And as such, wouldn’t interfere with his status as a Paragon.

So long as the spell was charged with mana– it would work. The only thing he could compare it to were talismans, and in a way, that’s exactly what it was. Except, better in every way. For one, since it was planted in his mana, he could use it instantly, whenever he needed it. Secondly, if the knowledge that came with it was correct, he could use it roughly a dozen times before it dissolved. Making the talismans he had been using feel like cheap trash in comparison.

Closing his eyes, Luke meditated on his mana, and immediately, he found the spell, ready to be used. It appeared as an icon and was moving in an orbit around where he knew his heart was.

Its form was indescribable, and constantly shifting. Like an optical illusion, and just focusing on it, made his head ache, even as suspicion and hope rose unbidden and tandem in his head.

The reward was too good.

Does he know what my bloodline is? He discarded the thought as soon as it came. If the god knew about Luke’s ability, then he was unexpectedly generous. Not that Luke thought that was the case. Something told him, had Hephaestus known whose blood it was that flowed through his veins, he would have gotten a bow instead. Not because the spell was that amazing of a prize or that he held a grudge against the titan, but because of what Luke could learn from it.

The Eyes of Insight, was an ability he had inherited from Prometheus.

After he had killed the Rebel Hero, and settled into routine in the capital, he had wasted no time in taking the plunge and sent his mana into the two pebble-like beads in his eyes.

At first the ability seemed underwhelming, but Prometheus wasn’t a god, or titan, for that matter who was famous for his destructive nature or as a great warrior. All successful cultivators knew their way around a battlefield, but it didn’t mean all of them enjoyed it, or put more thought into it than was required. As such, it wasn’t a surprise that what Luke had inherited from Max’s ancestor didn’t have readily apparent combat applications. Until perhaps now.

Based on what he remembered from the myths of his world, combined with what Prometheus had told him when they had met and the name of the ability, had given Luke a good inkling of what he could expect from the power. Prometheus was a teacher, crafter, and a scholar.

And his eyes were tools that facilitated that role, but to Luke, they hadn’t been of major use. At least not when compared to a bloodline ability like Rose’s, that gave her the ability to control fire, or Clan Skyscar’s talent with controlling wind. The Emperor’s grandchildren, too, had the remarkable ability to bond with and command animals. His, in his own opinion, was much less interesting, and that had inspired some amount of envy in him. An opinion that the spell and the potential it represented was threatening to overturn.

In simple terms, the Eyes of Insight let Luke see mana, or more precisely, they let him see his own mana– and how it interacted with the world in great detail. Both Aetherial Mana, and that which others cultivated inside themselves was no more apparent to him than it had been before. But it was useful, even if only for a single task– creating talismans.

Without activating his eyes, making a talismans was a long and boring process. He would draw the runes from the book Nel had given him on a sheet of paper, and then fill them.

The rate they would absorb his energy though, was exceedingly slow, and that speed was the main bottleneck to their creation in the first place. Supposedly, the more you filled a specific talisman, the quicker the process would become as your mana learnt the pattern, but it took months and in some cases, years of effort to get the time down to something reasonable. One that couldn’t even be sped up, as it was entirely a subconscious process.

As a consequence, most warriors would cultivate until their bodies could no longer absorb mana from the environment, and then spend their remaining centuries dedicating their time to other pursuits. Like enchanting weapons, or creating talismans. Which his bloodline seemed purpose built for.

Clite, being centuries old, could create most common Warrior tier talismans in minutes. Nel had practiced creating protective talismans and could create Mortal tier ones basically on demand, while it still took her a few hours to make a Warrior tier one.

The initial process, and even the runes for them were the same, but to get a talisman to the Warrior tier, you kept pouring your mana in, until it flashed a second time.

Luke, because of his eyes, could create basically every talisman he knew the runes for, both at the Mortal and Warrior tiers, in minutes. Something he had spent much of his spare time doing, and he had no small number of the things and stored them in his inventory, and he had sold even more for a tidy amount of merit points.

His bloodline, showed him how his mana was interacting with the drawn runes, and as such, he could tweak it, so that it ‘fell within the lines’ of the glyphs better. Whereas others were limited to pouring their energy into the paper blindly and repeatedly until they learned the ‘path’ by instinct, he could see it, plain as day.

The actual structure of the runes was much more complicated than the shapes of the lines they drew suggested, and wasn’t two dimensional either. Like the Aether had so long ago sucked his soul in, the mana funneled into the runes of a talisman built into itself in an inward direction. It didn’t fit with Luke’s understanding of spacetime as he knew it, but with his ability, he could perceive it anyway.

The result was the difference between a blind man trying to trace his finger over the lines of a drawing, and someone that could see the drawing, doing the same task.

And feeling the Spell in his mana, he activated his bloodline, and instantly had to tamp down his excitement, as its previously shifting and incomprehensible form turned to something he could look at without trouble.

Something, he suspected, he could replicate, and maybe, just maybe– use to extrapolate the knowledge that was held within to create his own spells based on the runes for talismans he already had. Even if he couldn’t though, he knew he could recreate the same spell, and would now, forever have the ability to fire jets scorching flame from his fist.

Prometheus stole fire from the sun and gifted it to mankind. Now I’ve done something similar. Less impressive, but taking the ability to make fire from a god, when he thought you could only do it a dozen times, is kind of like it. Right?

He grinned.