FREE USE in Primitive World

Chapter 153: Chapter 153: Who Are You?

BOOM.

The moment Sol’s palm connected with the warm, sun-kissed skin of her instep, the universe seemed to hiccup.

And he didn’t get a chance to ask for a favor. He didn’t get a chance to savor the texture of divine skin. An invisible, kinetic force… gentle but absolute, like a wall of compressed air, slammed into his chest.

Sol flew backward.

“fuuuckkkkkkk!”

He skidded across the obsidian floor, his boots screeching against the black stone, until he came to a stop fifty feet away. But strangely, he wasn’t hurt, it was like the force had been calculated with mathematical precision to simply remove a pest… but he was definitely winded.

He scrambled to his feet, dusting off his hands, his heart hammering a frantic rhythm against his bruised ribs.

“Okay,” Sol wheezed. “No touching the merchandise. Got it.”

Then suddenly, the silence of the void broke.

A sound like the shifting of tectonic plates filled the temple, ruin or whatever it was.

It was the sound of fabric rustling.

On the massive throne, the Titaness slowly stirred.

Her eyelids, which were the size of shields, fluttered with a lazy grace. Long lashes cast dancing shadows across her cheeks as they gently lifted, unveiling what lay beneath.

And then, the eyes finally opened.

And damn! Sol literally stopped breathing.

If the void was the absence of light, her eyes were the birth of it. They were Solar Flares… irises that swirled with a living mix of hot pink and deep, burning orange. They didn’t merely reflect light; they seemed to generate it.Looking into them was like staring into the heart of a dying star, a brilliance that promised both creation and annihilation.

She straightened, just slightly. Even that simple motion sent a gust across the chamber, ruffling Sol’s hair, tugging at his clothes, as though the air itself bent to her presence.

The throne groaned beneath her weight, stone trembling as if it remembered who sat upon it. Her gaze swept the chamber, and wherever it fell, shadows seemed to recoile.

She stretched, her arms reaching up toward the nonexistent ceiling, her back arching in a feline motion that highlighted the terrifying, majestic scale of her curves. The “Celestial Peplos” slipped further down her shoulder, revealing a smooth expanse of golden skin that could have spanned a football field.

Slowly, she looked down.

And her gaze fell on Sol. It was a physical weight, heavy and warm.

Sol felt smaller than he had ever felt in his life… smaller than a grain of sand, smaller than a breath. His knees threatened to buckle, not from fear alone, but from the sheer immensity of beauty and terror bound together in her form.

She didn’t look angry or surprised. She just looked… mildly amused.

“Oh,” her voice boomed.

It wasn’t loud in the way thunder is loud. It was resonant. It vibrated in the fluid of Sol’s inner ear, hummed in his teeth, and seemed to settle deep into the marrow of his bones. It was not a sound meant for mortals, but the voice of a goddess… vast, eternal, and impossibly gentle.

It rose like a choir of cellos playing a single, perfect note, yet it carried more than music. It carried warmth, sorrow, and promise all at once. Each syllable shimmered as though woven from starlight, and the air itself bent to cradle it.

Sol froze, breath already caught in his chest felt even more unbearable. He could swear that he had never heard anything so beautiful, so utterly beyond the reach of human sound. It was better than birdsong at dawn, better than the laughter of friends, better than the crackling fire on a winter’s night. It was the first voice that felt alive in every part of him… a voice that made the world itself seem pale in comparison.

For a moment, he forgot the pain, the caution, the danger. There was only her voice, and the impossible truth that he was hearing it.

“We have a Fated One.”

She leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees, bringing her face closer to the floor. Closer to him. Even seated, she was a literal skyscraper. Her face hovered a hundred feet in the air, a moon of golden perfection, radiant and absolutely divine.

“Welcome, human,” she said, her lips curving into a lazy smile that carried the weight of eternity. “It is a great fortune that you have stumbled here. This dimension… it drifts. It appears randomly in the cracks of the world, like a seed in the wind. And you…”

Her solar eyes narrowed, twin storms of burning pink and molten orange, scanning him as though peeling back the layers of his soul.

“…you are the first human to ever enter. It is fate.”

Sol stood there, mouth slightly agape. Fate? Random dimension?

His “cultured” brain, trained on a diet of isekai novels and RPGs, instantly began translating. Okay, so this isn’t a dungeon boss. This is a Hidden NPC encounter. A Unique Event.

“Do not mistake this for chance. The wind does not scatter seeds without purpose. You were carried here, drawn here, by threads you cannot see. Fate, destiny, call it what you will — but know this: the moment you crossed the threshold, you were destined to cease being an ordinary human.”

“Rejoice,” she continued, waving a hand the size of a carriage. “According to the Ancient Legacy… which I honestly haven’t read in a few eons, but I remember the gist… you are entitled to a Great Opportunity. A chance that will change your life. A path to become a Supreme among all races.”

Sol blinked. Supreme? Ancient Legacy? It sounded like the intro cinematic to a game he was definitely under-leveled for.

“But first,” she suddenly….frowned. Her gaze zoomed in on his left arm.

The necrotic green veins were spiderwebbing up past his elbow now.His hand was no longer a hand at all… it was a blackened claw, stiff and alien, each finger twisted by corruption. The pain was constant, a dull, consuming fire that made his vision swim and his breath hitch.

“You seem to be injured,” she observed, her tone carrying the faintest edge of distaste, as though the sight offended her perfection. “You are leaking. It’s messy.” Her words were not cruel, but they were detached, spoken with the same casualness one might use to describe a broken vessel or a spilled drink.

She raised a finger. A perfectly manicured index finger that was larger than Sol’s entire body, gleaming faintly in the dim chamber.

She pointed at him.

“Be whole.”

She didn’t cast a spell. She didn’t chant. She just willed it.

A beam of invisible energy shot from her fingertip. It hit Sol.

It didn’t hurt. Instead it was incredibly warm, the kind of warmth that seeped into every pore, like stepping into a shower after weeks in the mud, like sinking into sunlight after endless night. The energy coursed through his veins, merciless and precise, hunting down the foreign contaminants.

HISS.

Black smoke erupted from Sol’s arm, writhing like a living thing as it was torn free. The snake venom didn’t just neutralize; it was incinerated into oblivion. The green lines vanished. The blackened skin cracked and flaked away like ash in the wind, revealing pink, fresh flesh underneath.

But the energy didn’t stop there. It flooded his chest, knitting the micro-fractures in his ribs. It soothed the bruises on his back. It refilled his stamina bar in a heartbeat.

And then, it swirled around his body.

Sol looked down. His shredded, blood-stained tunic and loincloth… the remnants of his battle in the ravine… began to glow. The fabric unraveled, dissolving into light, and then re-wove itself.

The rough leather was replaced by something soft, shimmering, and white. It felt like silk, but stronger. It draped over his shoulder, cinched at the waist by a golden cord.

Sol stared. He touched the fabric.

“What the…”

He was wearing a Celestial Peplos. It was a male version… shorter, more tunic-like… but it was unmistakably the same divine fabric she was wearing.

He looked like a Greek god who had lost his sandals.

Sol gulped. He looked at his hands… clean, healed, glowing with health, flexing fingers that moments ago had been almost dead. The pain was gone. The fire was gone. In its place was a strange, humming vitality, as though the goddess’s will had not only healed him but rewritten him.

He looked at his clothes… pristine, divine.

He finally accepted it.

“Okay,” Sol whispered, his voice trembling slightly. “I am officially in a different world. This isn’t just a survival game. This is High Fantasy. With hundred-foot-tall women and magic clothes. We are not in Blue planet anymore.”

Above, her solar eyes glowed with lazy satisfaction. “Better,” she murmured, as if she had simply brushed dust from a table, leaning back into her throne. “That looks much better. You were ruining the aesthetic of my floor.”

“Now,” the Goddess murmured,

She gestured toward a pedestal in the east, On it sat a glowing, swirling sphere of light… the reward.

“Continue,” she said, stifling a yawn with the back of her hand. “Rejoice. There is your reward. Go and claim it. Become a legend. Etcetera, etcetera.”

Sol looked at the sphere. It pulsed with power. It promised godhood.

He looked at the Goddess. She was beautiful, benevolent, and offering him everything he had ever wanted on a silver platter.

But… Sol didn’t move.

He stood there, rooted to the obsidian floor, his new silk tunic fluttering in the non-existent wind.

Goddess or whatever she was, watched him. She waited. Five seconds passed. Ten.

She frowned, her eyebrows knitting together. It was a massive movement that darkened the room.

“Human?” she asked. “Why are you not moving? Are you frozen with awe?”

But Sol still didn’t move.

Maybe it was the result of reading too many NovelFires where the “benevolent mentor” turns out to be a body-snatching demon. Maybe it was the countless manhuas where the “inheritance” is actually a trap to enslave the protagonist’s soul.

Even though his body wanted to prostrate itself in her reverence and do whatever she willed, but being a modern gooner, he simply couldn’t trust her.

She’s too nice, Sol thought, his paranoia flaring. She heals me, dresses me, and gives me a cheat code? For free? Just because I ’stumbled’ here?

In the primitive world, nothing was free. If something looked too good to be true, it was usually bait. And even though, she was outrageously divine beautiful, he wasn’t going to become a simp.

“Go and claim it,” she urged, sounding slightly impatient now. “What are you hesitating for? It’s supreme power. Do you not like power?”

Sol finally spoke. He looked up, craning his neck to meet her solar gaze.

“Who are you?”