Return of the Woodcutter

A few moments later.

"Are you done, Blacky?" Belmand asked, seemingly getting impatient. "You've read through these few lines ten times already. Just take your oath already. I have other matters to attend to."

Aito—freed from the god's power—stared at a blue ethereal window, reading through an oath pact for the eleventh time. There wasn't much to read, but he had learned from his father to never sign a contract so suspicious-looking without studying it carefully. Especially when that so-called contract involved his soul.

After he'd take the oath, he would have to respect the clauses. If he ever dared to go against them, Aito's soul would shatter. In other words, he'd be as good as dead. Of course, the same applied to the other party involved.

"Fine," Aito said, with a slightly more respectful tone than before. Belmand's previous display of power made him realize the tremendous gap separating a mortal and a god. Not that he hadn't known it before, he just couldn't believe it.

His dislike of them, and particularly for Belmand, made it worse. But now that he had felt a divine being's power, he had a reference to quantify the difference. Which was enormous. Although it had only fueled his hostility towards the gods, that was growing each time he met one. After all, they never gave him a reason to trust them.

"What's next?" He asked, trying to limit the distaste that was visibly showing on his face.

"Very simple, you take an oath. Pay attention to what I'll say next." Belmand said while choosing to ignore Aito's rigid facial expression. "I, Belmand, the god of sloth, swear to abide by the clauses of this oath pact."

Immediately after, a notification window appeared.

BING!

[The oath of Belmond, the god of sloth, has been registered.]

Suddenly, a giant blue ball appeared in the seemingly boundless grey space. Curious, Aito's gaze traveled upward to take a look at the enormous sphere floating high above his head.

"The hell is that?" He said.

"Basically a bomb that will burst and eradicate my soul if I go against the clauses," Belmond said. Seeing Blacky's dubious look, he added. "You remember that this space is a part of my soul, right?"

"Right…."

"Now, take your oath and you'll be 'almost' good to go."

Aito sighed. He wasn't willing to have a bomb implanted in his soul, but he couldn't back down now.

"I, Aito Walker, swear to abide by the clauses of this oath pact."

BING!

[The oath has been denied.]

"What happened?" He said, turning towards Belmond in search of an answer.

Belmand pondered on the issue before innocently lifting a finger. "Ah, sorry, I forgot about that part. You have to use a title after your name. The most meaningful title to you, of course. For example, 'god of sloth' is my title. That's one of the reasons you were all granted a title upon your revival. It works like an ID of sorts. And even if some mortals share the same title, the System will be able to sort them out."

Despite the urge to curse, Aito refrained from making a rude comment and thought about which title to use. There were only two of them, but one was particularly meaningful to him.

"I, Aito Walker, the Father Killer, swear to abide by the clauses of this oath pact."

BING!

[The oath of Aito Walker, the Father Killer, has been registered.]

Immediately after, the blue window vanished, while Aito sensed something akin to a ball entering his bosom. It wasn't painful by any means but felt odd. Weird. Unusual. He didn't know how to describe it correctly.

"Don't worry, that feeling will disappear within the hour," Belmand said. "Now, to the last matter at hand. As a black challenger who cleared his trial, you have the right to take four items that were in your inventory during the trial with you."

"Do you mean I won't have access to my inventory in the Tower?"

"Indeed." The god said, smirking. "The inventory was temporarily granted to the challengers during their first trial for the sake of fairness. You probably wouldn't have survived without it."

As much as Aito wanted to refute the god's statement, he was forced to acknowledge it. The inventory had been essential for his survival. Having a seemingly endless storage space at his disposal had saved him more than once. A great example of that was his "vacation" in the cave.

"If you want one, you will have to earn it with your own hands," Belmand said. "Also, survival shouldn't be as much of an issue in the Tower now that 'most' of you were granted a class. Although, I have to say that your case is… special."

Aito frowned. Of course, that god would know about his class. After all, Belmand already knew about Jack. "Why?"

"Because only a god can grant a class to a mortal, Blacky. Only a god." Belmand said, his gaze turning serious. "So, for obvious reasons, I'd advise that you hide that candle of yours carefully. Capeesh?"

Capeesh? Aito wondered where that god had learned that word since it clearly came from Earth. However, he left that useless question unanswered and simply forced himself to nod.

"Now, make your choice," Belmand said, before dozens of items appeared out of thin air around them. "Oh, by the way. That rule about the four items doesn't apply to the rewards you've earned during the trial. These are yours by default."

Aito grunted, then took a look around. He didn't know what kind of dangers awaited him in the Tower but he sure as hell knew that he needed his equipment above all else. And his damaged Viking armor wouldn't do the trick.

He was about to pick up a leather arm guard when Belmand coughed.

"Yes?" He said, greeting his teeth because he was trying to sound "polite."

"You'll be able to repair your equipment in the Tower." The god replied, with two hands held up in the air. "Just saying."

Aito sighed and started to arm himself. He first put on a leather breastplate, arm guards, and boots. Then, equipped his tattered Viking armor set on top of it, as a second layer of protection. It looked crude, a bit foolish even, but the purpose wasn't to look cool.

He didn't want to carry his viking armor set in his hands. And since he had lost weight, he could fit two layers of armors. Aito wished he could take Big Bad Red's equipment, however, they didn't fit his size. He then stored the two silex—he had been rewarded for making a fire—in his boots. No matter how uncomfortable it was, he couldn't think of any other places.

Last but not least, he picked up the double-edged ax. Only one item amongst the four Aito was allowed to take remained and he didn't want to take a shield, for obvious reasons. Furthermore, the Viking shield he had earned before laid in pieces somewhere on the island.

Seeing that Blacky was ready, Belmand used the System to open a black portal leading to the Tower and invited him to walk in it.

His ax in one hand, and the "shiny piece of rock" in the other, Aito gladly accepted the offer, happy to get out of this awful looking grey space with a god as the host, only to be interrupted midway by Belmand, who instantaneously appeared in front of him to grab his right arm. Aito was about to voice out his disagreement when something warm stirred under his arm guard. The god retracted his slender hand, putting an end to the weird feeling.

"The fuck was that for?" Aito asked, unable to contain his "gruffness."

"To lessen your already heavy burden." Belmand said, before effortlessly pushing him inside the portal. "Go, inheritor of bravery.. Show me what you're made of."

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