Netori: Stealing The Hero's Party!

Chapter 910: The God Of Creation - Oruon

While Valentina was made to answer the questions from her past, Oruon–the god of creation–was scrambling about in preparation for the holy war. Lacking true sight, he was in a constant state of creating arms, items, potions, and countless other pieces of equipment and alchemy. He wished to have everything on hand dare the situation presents itself for that item. But in his constant state of paranoid creation, the god had neglected his people even more than he had before.

Of voidless mass with an ever-changing body, he floated atop his craft’s table of flowing gold. Hamming, chiseling, extracting, and amalgamating it all into much finer creations. Some would aid him to stay alive longer if the other gods decided to strike him; other items had more specialized uses, but most of them were defensive.

Expecting an all-out war amongst the council gods, Oruon was preparing for the same courtesy from them as they had granted Asmareth. A quiet death as he exceeds his usefulness. Being a god of only one city and that too shared with other gods, Oruon’s powers were limited by the meagre amount of faith people had in him. The same held true for Kleismeth, however, being able to see into the future was a far more potent ability than being able to create items–something a certain Caladrius has already surpassed him in.

"God of creation," walking into the smoke-filled workshop of the ever-changing god, Raguel cast him in a scornful glare. "Lord Oruon, your faithful ache for your word. It has been months since your already scant presence had been made rarer than the rain in the oceanic desert!"

"Silence! Insolent angel!" Oruon growled back at him, his eyeless gaze lingering on his table of flowing gold.

"Athenia’s heroes knock on your door, and here you are, avoiding your servants’ call." It took much to anger the angelic ambassador, and somehow, the god of creation had managed just that. "Your followers will soon be swayed from your faith and fall into Athenia’s arms. The least they can expect of you is a word, but there is only silence."

"Athenia’s chosen?!" Snapping out of his stupor, Oruon looked right at Raguel. "When did he–Why did Kleismeth not tell me?! We have a contract to work together no matter what!"

"The heroes have done no harm to your people, yet. She is under no mandate to warn you until they do. Alas, she has plans of her own, it seems, but I could not simply stand by and let innocent mortals be razed for their attempts to cling onto your faith as the rest of them change their ways."

"NONSENSE! THOSE FOOLS WILL DO BETTER THAN WALK INTO THE ARMS OF THE ENEMY!"

"They would’ve, had they felt your warmth; thus far, they’ve only felt neglect." Holding his hand to the side, Raguel showed the god a reflection of Raven’s planned procession from a while back. "While Athenia’s chosen walk with angels, your followers are left to mindless worship. It is not under my purview to warn you either, lord of making, but with certain actions by the goddess Kleismeth, it is most probable that Raven and his companions shall level the port city of Alliance. And it would all have been because of you two. One, a neglectful parent, and the other, too absorbed in whatever she’s planning."

For a spell, the god of creation’s mind raced with countless worries, only to be replaced by his anger towards the messenger. Taking a corporeal form that appeared as a cloud with sunlight beaming from within, he stood in front of Raguel and barked at him again.

"Do not insult me, Angel! I know how to treat my followers!" Slapping Raguel’s face with the back of his hand, Orion drew a trace of blood from the angel’s lip. "Those idiots, if they are so easily swayed, then they are not worth the dirt they stand on! I will find new followers soon, but for now, I need to focus on delaying retaliation from the council gods!"

Wiping his blood, Raguel lifted his head again and stared at Oruon with a deep look of scorn.

"You have no followers elsewhere, Lord of Making. If you lose these before you can find their replacement, then your powers and your divinity shall cease to exist before you can do anything to prevent it."

"I–" The gods’ mouths opened to scream; however, the feeling of helplessness was slowly taking over him. He knew that Raguel was right, and there was little chance for him to save his skin. "If only the war hadn’t started so early! Kleismeth, that bitch should’ve seen it coming, but she never told me!"

Airing out his frustration, he wondered what could have been if the council hadn’t been in such disarray. Hamleth would’ve led them to glory with Athenia being dead and the rest of the gods slowly falling into their places. Of course, he wasn’t blind enough to believe that there would no longer be any conflict amongst the gods–but once this troublemaker was dead, then perhaps he would have time to create something to end the rest of the gods.

"May your fate greet you as kindly as it has greeted your followers," breaking the silence, Raguel gave Oruon one last look before turning around to walk away. "God of creation, Oruon–do as you wish, for that seems to be how all gods appear to be working these days. But remember, whatever happens next, it would be your own brought boon or the doom that shall bring your final dawn."

As bitter as the angel’s parting words were, Oruon knew them to be true. Many gods have fallen before him because of their own hubris, and he would hate for him to be added to that list. Thus, with his mind at the height of thought, he wandered through any possible means to somehow get out of this predicament. No help was coming from Kleismeth, and with the chosen of Athenia at his doorstep, he knew a drastic measure had to be taken.

’Tsk... I won’t be remembered as some coward! No mortal will bend me to his will, and if he tries, I will erase him!’ He told him before returning to his workbench. But this time, instead of some equipment or a potion, he started to prepare something without form–something incorporeal, just like him.

War was upon him, and if it could not be avoided, then at least he could decide how it ends.