Rebirth of the 8th-Circle Mage-Chapter 322: The New God (1)

La.

The goddess had clearly called him La.

Henry couldn't believe his ears.

‘La… As in the desert…?’

Henry’s boiling blood seemed to cool down at La’s sudden and unexpected appearance.

Seeing Henry look at him with a dumbfounded expression, the hawk frowned and yelled at him.

- What are you looking at, you fool?!

The hawk-headed god, La, was very different from what Henry had imagined, given his rather harsh way of talking.

La had a tanned and muscular build, reminiscent of the desert warriors. He slowly walked up to Henry, passing him to get to the goddess to question her.

- Irene, are you trying to get him to ask twenty questions or something? You’re complicating something that can be explained in simple terms! Stop making it so vague! This isn’t the time to act elegant!

- You’re too riled up, La.

- Riled up, my ass!

La scolded Irene while gesturing emphatically. Then, when it seemed like he was done chastising her, he turned his head and looked at Henry.

La’s gaze caused Henry to get nervous.

- I can’t believe a guy like him is the god of magic… Hey, newbie, I’m sure Irene’s already told you about me, so I’ll skip the introductions. I’ll proceed to explain what this all means, so pay attention.

“...Alright.”

Henry agreed to listen to the riled-up god.

With a scoff, La proceeded to explain.

- The reason you’re qualified to become a god from a human is the fact that I gave you part of my spirit.

“Your spirit… as in the seed that looked like an egg?”

- That’s my flesh, to be precise. I gave it to Hedajaon, who passed it on to Herarion, who then passed it on to you. Since you received my flesh and also awakened as the one and only 8th-Circle wizard, you now have the minimum qualifications. As proof, my flesh seeped into you and sprouted a bud for you to become a new god.

Henry slowly organized his thoughts as he listened to La’s explanation.

The desert god continued.

- Whenever a god is born, they possess the slightest amount of divine power. So, most young gods die without even realizing that they’d become one. Even though you’ve ascended to divinity as a human, your divine power nearly got you killed by Arthus, who’s not even a god, but a representative.

“A chosen one… Are you saying that Arthus hasn’t reached the realm of the gods?”

- That’s right. Arthus is merely Janus’ puppet, which is why he’s managed to take over most of the continent. However, there’s only so much divine power he can have. That’s the limit of humans. But you’re different. You’re no longer human, but a god. So if you have faith in yourself, deep, sincere faith, you can easily eliminate a guy like Arthus.

Just like that, La explained how humans were different from deities in terms of power.

After listening to La’s explanation, Henry organized his thoughts and asked, “Then why couldn’t Herarion, who’s your chosen one, take on Arthus? And what about the Saint, who’s Goddess Irene’s chosen one? It wouldn’t have come to this if the two had defeated Arthus in the first place.”

- No, that was impossible.

“Why is that?”

- First of all, as the goddess of love and peace, Irene is incapable of harming others. She was born from love and peace, so she can’t do anything but protect and show compassion.

“Then what about you, La?”

- I’m one of the few who can stand against Janus, but by the time I stepped in to stop him, it was already too late. In a short amount of time, Janus had gained numerous followers through unspeakable measures, and thanks to those followers, he had become far more powerful than me. And most importantly… Herarion, my only representative, had too little divine power compared to Arthus.

“What the…!”

- Arthus is not an ordinary human. You should know that better than anyone else. And Arthus’ tendencies perfectly match Janus’ method of handling things. Thanks to that, this has allowed him to become as good of a representative as my former one, Herabola. And now he possesses divine power almost on par with a demigod even though he’s merely a human representative.

“Then how am I supposed to deal with him, given that I’ve just sprouted into a god?”

- It’s just as Irene said. You have succeeded in sprouting the bud of divine power and becoming a god, but you have neglected the nutrients necessary to nourish that bud by losing faith in magic, haven’t you?

“Losing my faith in magic? What are you talking about?”

- You have no conscience! Look deep into your heart and think about it! After witnessing your comrades face defeat and death, you put no more faith in magic, which was all you had. Can’t you see how big of a mistake that was? You’re the god of magic, and yet you don’t believe in your own magic! Even if the others believe in it, what can they possibly do?!

La vehemently rebuked Henry, pointing out all of his faults.

Listening to the desert god, Henry could remember that at some point he had felt so helpless that he had wanted to give up on everything.

- Get a grip, god of magic! You’re the first deity of this kind! You’re the god of all wizards, and if you don’t have faith in magic, then what is the meaning of your existence?

‘God… of magic…!’

The god of all wizards…

Henry pondered on those words.

He had collected many monikers over the years, from the Great Archmage to the Sage of the Continent, and everyone, wizards and peasants alike, had hailed him as the greatest wizard on the continent.

People had also called him some ridiculous names,God of Magic being among them. However, Henry never would’ve guessed that all those titles, some more ridiculous than others, would come together and converge into this outcome.

Henry mumbled the words ‘god of magic’ with a blank look on his face as though he had been hit in the back of the head with a hammer.

- You still have a chance. Humanity has not yet been destroyed, and all those who are fighting in Monsieur are desperately trying to hold on, calling out your name. Do you not hear their cries? Get yourself together and listen to their cries, Henry Morris!

At La’s ardent encouragement, Henry slowly closed his eyes. He had no idea how he was supposed to hear their voices from across the continent.

However, if faith was the root of all of this, Henry was willing to give it a try. He closed his eyes and believed that he would be able to hear their voices and feel their faith in him.

Henry focused for a while, and eventually, as though a stone was thrown into a calm lake, there was a tiny ripple somewhere deep within him, an echo.

- Concentrate, Henry. You’re a god, so act like one. You’ve ascended to divinity. You’re above a representative, more than a mere mortal. Henry, you must remember that your divine power is limitless, unlike Arthus’, who’s just a representative, a mere mortal.

La’s advice for Henry was sincere. It was the kind of advice a master gave to their apprentice. In this case, the senior god was offering guidance to the junior god.

Everyone’s wish was for Henry to prevent Arthus from destroying the continent by stopping Janus, whom humans could no longer do anything against.

Henry concentrated even harder, and as he did so, the echoing was getting more clear.

- Archmage, please put an end to this nightmare!

- Henry, I believe in you!

- Sir Henry, please kill Arthus!

- Henry…!

The voices of people calling him by various names and making various requests rang in his ears.

The voices were all saying different things, but the meaning behind each of them was all the same: Arthus’ death and a strong conviction that Henry would be able to take him down.

Goooo…!

After finally perceiving the echoing in his ears, Henry could see the golden aura he had seen on Irene earlier form all over him.

Seeing this, La was finally satisfied.

- That’s it, Henry!

“La…”

- You must never lose faith in yourself! If you, the god of magic, lose faith in yourself, then nothing in this world can save you anymore. Remember, Henry. The salvation of this world is in your hands.

With that final piece of advice, Henry’s vision became blurry.

Through that, La and Irene’s figures shimmered like a heat haze, and Henry bowed toward them.

‘Thank you, both of you!’

Flash!

A golden light flashed before his eyes. When he looked up again, the Saint was sobbing on top of his chest.

“Sniff… Archmage…!”

Henry opened his eyes slowly.

Before losing consciousness, his eyelids had felt terribly heavy, as though they had carried the weight of this hopeless reality. However, that weight had disappeared completely. His eyelids now felt light as feathers.

As he opened his eyes, he also tried to flex his wrists and ankles.

Squirm.

He could now feel his body, whereas before he had lost all sensation, as though his limbs had been cut off.

Henry closed his eyes halfway. He then touched all the parts of his body that had been pierced by Arthus’ spears.

No wounds…

All his senses, which had been numbed by the overwhelming pain, slowly returned to him.

He could feel the wind on his skin.

He could feel the wetness of his own blood. He could also feel the metallic scent of blood invading his nostrils. He found it delightful.

His body felt light. Even his eyelids, which he had only opened for a moment, flet light and refreshed, as though he had just been reborn.

Henry fully opened his eyes again. He slowly rose in a sitting position, wrapped his arms around Irenae’s shoulders, who was still weeping, and whispered in her ear, “Sleep.”

Thud.

As the low-grade sleep magic seeped into the Saint, she slumped forward and fell asleep.

Seeing this, Arthus said, “Oh wow… The Saint is a saint after all. I didn’t expect you to come back to life as if nothing happened…!”

Henry laid the unconscious Saint aside and slowly stood up.

As he examined his body while standing up, he saw that his armor was still tattered unlike the one in his vision.

He whispered, “Armor on.”

Znggg.

Henry had multiple spares for the Colt Armor. After whispering those words, the tattered armor vanished and a new set of Colt Armor enveloped his body.

Seeing this, Arthus chuckled.

“Khaha, that’s it! You’ll need to rearm yourself so that you feel like fighting again! Go ahead and equip yourself. I’ll be more than happy to wait for you!”

Arthus sneered at Henry, overjoyed that he could have some more fun. However, Henry didn’t respond. Instead, he closed his eyes and listened.

As he listened, the corners of his lips slowly curled up without him even realizing. He opened his eyes again, and now he was fully smiling.

Arthus frowned at Henry’s reaction, finding it strange.

“You’re smiling? Have you… gone insane? If you have, I’m really disappointed.”

Arthus was genuinely concerned about Henry because he was afraid that the Saint had fixed his toy too much.

Henry slowly raised his right hand and clenched it into a fist.

He then pointed his index finger, and, just like with the Saint, whispered softly, “Magic Missile.”

Oong-!

Golden mana concentrated at the tip of his index finger. Then, like any other Magic Missile, a beam of light burst forth.

Whoosh!

The beam of light left Henry’s index finger and headed toward Arthus’ chest.

Arthus didn’t flinch in the slightest at the sight of the incoming Magic Missile. Instead, he used his divine power as usual to get ready to repel Henry’s magic.

But just as Henry’s Magic Missile landed on Arthus’ chest…

“Argh!”

Blood spurted from Arthus’ mouth along with a brief groan.

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