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Strongest Among the Heavens

The Heavenly Games is a tournament where myth and man meet, a purgatory where the dead arrive to fight for their one true wish. Amongst the reborn are Dasha Pang and Kazi Hossain; one a professor whose cold-hearted intelligence can surpass gods and the other a traveller who has come to appreciate humanity. A villain and a hero. The boy born unwanted and the guided one. Gods amongst men. Expect battles of epic proportions, stories ripped straight from mythology, interactions between gods of various pantheons, and duels humanity has debated for centuries. Except the Strongest Among The Heavens. *** + Dual Protagonists. Overpowered geniuses. One MC that is villainous and manipulative. The second MC that is heroic and kind. + Detailed power system that includes Western Magic & Chinese Cultivation/Martial Arts (Xianxia) + LitRPG, dungeon crawling, fantasy guilds, and more!  + Abrahamic religions, Hinduism, Indigenous (Americas & Australia), Greek, Norse, Egyptian, and Japanese mythology  *** Daily Chapter (1.5k to 2.5k word count)

Balcho · Seni bela diri
Peringkat tidak cukup
98 Chs

Rattled

The screaming aftereffects rattled William mentally and physically. The forest in Gate 1 worked as an effective training ground to regain his strength. The bubbles of space served them well as slimes and Slime Jacks occasionally appeared and made themselves target practice.

It was nothing like the Wendigo and the blood lake. There was soil instead of blood. A warm temperature instead of chills that wouldn't stop. Slimes that were weak rather than nigh-invincible.

"Radiant Blast!" The small beam of light struck the slime that leapt from the bushes. Marta let out a sigh and looked to Kazi for approval. He smiled and she brightened.

'She's still very slow but she's made progress. She's gone from not fighting at all to being afraid of monsters and killing them.'

To the side, William struck a tree with his axe. Panting, he struck again and caved the bark in. "Phew!" He wiped the sweat off his forehead and repeated at the neighbouring tree. The young man spoke regularly on how he hit the gym in his lifetime. Physical repetition came to him like the wind. Strength training became a joyous hobby. He wanted to see results, he loved them.

And so, he rebuilt his mind and body like a bonafide freak of nature.

Kazi did training of his own from time to time. However, his was not physical as it was mental and spiritual. He needed to think and experiment and understand the magic within. That was how he got stronger. In regards to physical conditioning, he didn't need it. Martial arts and sword techniques, in his mind, weren't necessary.

'I need to understand the core of mana. I need to be able to use all the elements. That way, I can be prepared for any and all opponents.'

He started a fire within the palm of his hand, a searing sensation that although powerful did not hurt him. He supposed it had to do with the fact that it was his own energy. More importantly, he was capable of shifting the shape of magic without a problem. While large constructs were still difficult, he could still create ludicrous constructions.

All because of the Godly Shape Control skill.

[ Godly Shape Control

Type: Passive

Subtype: Support

Cost: —

Rank: S

Like a god, bend the shape of magic to your will. ]

'Like a god.'

Like a god.

"You don't just have a gift. You have the markings of a prophet! You have

"But that's not what the Ummah says…"

"Forget what the Ummah says! You are Im—"

He shut his eyes and twisted himself away from that memory. He didn't need that.

He tossed the fire into the wood. He gestured for Marta to sit down at the newly lit campfire. While the sky was bright and blue, the warmth and smell of the campfire served as a comfort. Her stamina cursing her with twig legs unable to stand for longer than an hour, Marta welcomed the break.

"What were your parents like?" Kazi asked out of the blue.

"My parents?" Marta repeated, taken aback. She adjusted her glasses. "To describe them in one word: successful. They ran a big company, so money was never an issue. They were always there for me too." Her staff across her lap, she fidgeted. "I…sucked. I wasn't good at anything. I was mediocre at school, mediocre at talking, and I ended up becoming a total loser. Just spent my time gaming and watching anime. It's funny, really. In elementary school, I was the popular one, but then middle school came and I moved and I lost all my friends and all my confidence."

Marta swallowed and steadied her breathing. No doubt, she was among those who regretted what she did in her life.

"My parents loved me, but I could see it in their eyes even though they never said it. I was a failure. I would always be a failure."

Kazi sharply countered, "Not to me, you're not."

"I know." Marta wore a weak smile. "Thank you. What were your parents like, Kazi?"

"My parents, eh?" There was a tightened strain in his eye. "My father…was the hardest working person I ever knew. And my mother was quiet. Very quiet, but strong-willed. She did all the housework and never complained. In that sense, she was like my father. The two of them were the epitome of hard work."

"And, er, how did they treat you?"

Kazi scratched the grown stubble on his face. It wasn't thick but he did think it was time to shave it off. "I was pushed a lot. We weren't exactly well-off, so I couldn't blame them."

Marta's curiousity was boundless. "What did they do? For work, I mean?"

"It's complicated. I'm from a char area, which is...how do I put this?" Kazi scratched his stubble. "It's a pseudo island where the land is very unstable and so jobs are...tough. Sometimes you do farming, sometimes you do building. My father mostly kept to agriculture and my mother was a servant that spent her weeks in the big city. My father was pretty adamant on me going with my mother, so early on I worked with her."

Marta seemed equally concerned as she was curious. "Wow, that's…intense. How was school for you? Did you go to school?"

"Sort of. It took a thirty minute boat ride to get to school. After a couple years though, all the schools close to me were flooded and I never went again."

To her, his experiences were disturbing as they were downright ludicrous. "That's…"

"Eh, don't worry about it. The roofs of those buildings were practically on the verge of collapsing. My home teacher even gave me drugs. Fun times."

"O-okay, so how did you learn stuff? I'm guessing there wasn't internet," Marta said.

"Nope, no internet. But, the family my mother served had a huge library. We were just sweepers and we weren't allowed to touch anything, but my father haggled me everyday to read. He would always put a hand on my shoulder and give me a big speech right before I left." His voice rumbled, "'Read something! Anything!' It was a little hard since I had to teach myself and the languages were never the same, but eventually, I got the hang of it."

"Um, which languages did you learn?"

Kazi laughed. "At the library, there were about a hundred. So about that many."

"Were you ever caught?"

"Just once, but never again." Kazi clicked his tongue. "My back still aches from that beating. It took thirteen months to fully heal."

The heartfelt concern returned to her blue eyes. "W-what did they do?"

"You know, belts, slaps, kicking, that sort of thing. There was one member of the family, the younger brother of the father, he was always pissed so he took it out on me that day." Kazi laughed it off but he noticed how taken aback she was. Already, he could tell what she was thinking. The bad thoughts that were seeping into her confidence. He steadied his voice and regarded her calmly. "Marta, we all live different lives. We've all experienced our ups and downs. Your problems are your problems. Mine are mine. That doesn't mean one is more meaningful than the other."

"Yeah, but when you talk about living in poverty while I'm telling you a sob story about how much of a loser I am, it feels…I dunno."

The flames withered. Kazi smiled at her. "The fact that you're sorry personally tells me you're not a loser. You're a kind, smart woman who takes other peoples' feelings into account. I can't say that for most people, trust me."

Marta opened her eyes, only to close them. She stared into the flames and couldn't stop herself from smiling. "Thank you."

In the background, William huffed and puffed, training till his arms couldn't move. Kazi opened his inventory and brought out some fresh fish and sticks to heat over the fire. The smell convinced William to sit down with them.

"By the way, I didn't ask, but who was the lady in black?" William picked his stick up and bit into the fish.

"Her name is Margaret of Beverley," Kazi answered.

"You make her sound like a big deal."

"Sort of. Margaret of Beverley was one of the few women who participated in the Crusades. And she wasn't noble or a woman whose husband died or something. No, she was a commoner, like you and me."

"Seriously? That sounds impossible. I mean, er, not that women can't fight or anything but back then…you know, uh…" Struggling to explain himself, William cut himself off and wracked his brain for a better train of thought. Something that wouldn't make him come off as problematic.

"Wow." Kazi shook his head and clicked his tongue mockingly. "Did you hear that, Marta? He thinks women can't fight. Will you tell Ms. Sun-young he said that?"

"Please excuse my lack of historical knowledge on the Crusades and spare me," William said.

"It is complicated. At the height of the Third Crusade, the Muslim side tended to mock and discredit the Christians by saying some of the knights were women. There's a famous quote from Imad ad-din al-Isfahani that described the knightly women they would encounter. Pretty much every contemporary analysis has said it was propaganda. Some noble women did take over garrisons and there was the rare archer and swordswoman, but they weren't a collective. Baha ad-din and Imad ad-din corroborate this fact. Gender roles were concrete back then. Men can fight, women don't. The fact that a rare few did fight was an attempt by the Muslims to discredit the Christians and explain how their societies were inferior to their own."

"Good ol' religious feuds." William let out a whistle. "How do you know this?"

"As a kid, I read a lot. Forced to read, technically." He gave Marta a wink. "But, you gotta think. If the Templars still have members from centuries ago who think women can't participate in a fight unless they have a husband or a male relative, then how strong is Marshal Margaret to break that line of thought? A Marshal, the second highest position in the Templar Order? It's no joke, you know."

"When you put it that way…"

"Crazy, right?" Kazi smiled to himself. "I can't wait to see some of these people in combat some day."

"Speaking of combat…" William had a glint in his eye. "Do you wanna spar, Kazi? Unarmed?"

Squint. "Are you sure?"

"I'll be fine," said William, almost like he was convincing himself. "I can fight! Trust me! That thing didn't change anything. I'm still me."

To say he believed him was a lie. Still, it was better than wallowing in fear. Kazi nodded and agreed to the spar. Marta looked on, nervous.