Chapter 133: Rent-a-Prophet (2/2)
“You would—” Leone seemed ready to crush him, but Mithras silenced her by putting his hand on her shoulder.
“I want the answer to one question,” Victor cleared his throat. “Where is Miel?”
“That is all?” Mithras asked, having expected more. But the Vizier didn’t want to go to what he sensed would be his final battle, without putting that unresolved issue to rest. “Then in this case—”
Ding!
The sound echoed not in the air, but in Victor’s own mind.
“The time is up already?” Leone asked with a frown. “It was barely twenty minutes!”
Before the Vizier knew what hit him, a powerful force tore him away from Heaven and dumped him into an enormous warforge of brass and steel. Hundreds of golems and ghostly dwarves shaped cannons on a near-endless assembly line, toiling endlessly to make weapons. Windows provided a view of the world outside, that of a metal fortress floating amidst a volcanic, hellish landscape.
“Ah, Victor, right on time.” The dwarf goddess Veran had switched place with her more heavenly counterpart, most of her body hidden beneath some kind of golem suit. “I am glad to see the customer service is on point.”
“Lady Veran?” Victor blinked, his armor and immunities protecting him from the ambient heat. “Where are we?”
“This is my planar realm, at the junction between the Elemental Planes of Fire and Earth,” the goddess explained. “I need both heat and materials for my best work. Now, this renting prophet service is a first for me, but Shesha made me an opening sales offer and with the war starting, I could not resist. Let us make the best of our allocated time.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I rented you for two hours,” Veran said as if it explained everything. When she realized Victor remained clueless, she snapped her fingers and an imp flew to her side, carrying some kind of primitive laptop.
The Vizier looked at the screen.
rentaprophet.outremonde
Victor blinked, as he watched the imp scroll down an entire website with his own face plastered on it. Texts and pictures oversold his past achievements while a video of Shesha pitched the idea to listeners.
“You want a Moses, but nature gave you a Christ? You want to develop your cult in these troubled times, but you don’t have the right person? Approved by half the pantheon and with almost eight years of experience as a professional prophet, Victor Dalton is the perfect assistant, capable of handling any divine task set for him. For what is a prophet, but a god’s minion?”
Victor’s eyebrows lowered in despair.
“By renting my allocated Claimed time while another deity hasn’t requested him, you can get the best of the Claimed marketplace for a fair retainer fee of—”
“She had the idea during our last table session,” Veran explained before Victor could have a heart attack over the price. “Since many gods couldn’t agree when you were supposed to serve them, Shesha set this system to allocate your time. Since she rarely used you, and won Dice’s allocated time at the table, she now rents her time to the highest bidder.”
…
Victor should have felt unhappy about it, especially since he probably wouldn’t get paid over it.
But he was so happy to be a parent, that he refused to let it drag him down. “What do you want me for?”
“I need a sounding board for new weapons,” the goddess explained, showing him the blueprints of an enormous cannon. “With the dragon-fomor war incoming and these new arrows of light, my church needs a boost. This continental conflict is my chance to test out new stuff, and I will! There is this big railgun idea in particular that I can’t out of my mind...”
“What about something more innovative?” the Vizier suggested. “Something they will never see coming?”
“Like a smaller gun?”
One hour and a half later, Victor was the one pitching weapons to Veran.
“... and then with the sun blotted out, everyone is blind but our armies,” the Vizier explained. “Since most of our troops can naturally see in the dark, this gives us a tremendous tactical advantage.”
“Then we can finally get these intimidating night-goggles out of storage for diurnal soldiers.”
“And with eternal night, half-vampire kids can properly go out during the day. This weapon is entirely child friendly.”
“You’ve given it a lot of thought,” the goddess said, even if they both worked hard on brainstorming the concept.
”Ever since I had a son half a day ago, I have been considering world domination,” Victor explained, Veran remaining silent. “Most of my children are half-demons, meaning that by nature, they will be targeted by heroes and paladins. Ergo, the only way to create a world where they can live safely, is to preemptively take it over first.”
“With military might?” Veran asked with enthusiasm.
“With a mix of intrigue, economic power, and overwhelming military might.” Victor raised his scythe. “The V&V Empire will become the most powerful nation, where my kids will grow in a safe, family-friendly environment!”
“That is the attitude I want in a prophet!” Veran pointed a metal index finger at his face. “Victor, you are hired! I want you in my church!”
The symbol of a fiery whip appeared on his right arm, joining the other marks.
[Claimed by Veran]: When you level up, you have an additional 10 percent chance to gain a Strength or Intelligence point. You can craft any item with medium proficiency as if you had the necessary perks.
“Any item?” Victor asked, pumped up. “Even a wereslime crib?”
“Any item as long as you have the necessary materials, and if you ignore the slim chance of devastating, catastrophic failure.” Veran checked the website next. “I will see if I can extend the weapon brainstorming session for an extra hour...”
Wait, if he could craft anything, then maybe… Maybe even a Soulcrest? Since they could be made without harming any dragon, if he had the skills needed to craft the device, then Victor could produce his own ethical version.
“Oh, your next appointment is a Jesty session about the new Dalton Dynasty idea he wanted to pitch us after we end the current War Edition. I guess he won’t be too mad if our current meeting spills over ten more minutes.”
“Dalton Dynasty?”
”Very interesting concept. We each choose a Dalton child and guide him while they accumulate ‘prestige points’; the dynasty with the highest prestige at the end of the campaign wins. Isengrim called dibs on your werechildren, while I would guide your eldest daughter through my chosen Goblina. However, Cam wants to play undead and is saddened by your lack of progress on that front, while Cybele would like a descendant of Allison as her charge. The game is only a vague concept for now, but it is gaining traction.”
[Evil Dad Mode] activated!
“Undead?” Victor tensed. “Are you gods discussing killing my kids?”
“What? No, no—”
“Because if any of you tries to kill my kids and reanimate them as undead, I’ll ascend to Valhalla just to crap on your gaming table!”
“Someone beat you to it, and it took months to clean up Atlantis afterward,” Veran replied. “Do not worry, Victor. Cam simply wants that you could get down with having a half-vampire scion, or maybe a half-ghoul.”
“Oh,” Victor calmed himself. “Good. I knew Camilla would never do anything that could jeopardize our fulfilling relationship, but I lost control for a minute. I am a parent now.”
”Yes, although I heard you were anxious about it.”
”That was before I actually had a kid!” It was as if he had been neurotic all his life, only to receive a vaccine upon seeing Armand. ”What about the other gods?”
“Shesha would like to play Armand,” Veran said. “Dice will roll for his chosen, and the Moon Man is planning to guide someone not conceived yet.”
Good, all his kids would have a deity’s protection, and would never struggle the way Victor did before he met Vainqueur. “What about Seng? Whom did she choose?”
“What about her?” Veran replied. “She is not invited.”
“She should,” Victor defended the mermaid goddess, taking his role of prophet seriously. “She claimed me and she’s pretty nice when you get to know her.”
The dwarf goddess looked at him as if he had lost his mind. “Do you want Seng to mentor one of your children?”
Victor opened his mouth, then thought about it. “... yes?”
“No, you do not.”
“She will never gain self-confidence if nobody trusts her, and all my children need divine protection,” Victor argued, more firmly this time. “Give her a chance.”
Veran remained silent for a moment. “Your funeral,” she replied. “Now, about that sun-blotting plot...”