I Died and Became a Noble's Heir

Chapter 414: Betrayed the 13th

The god resumed pacing, his voice taking on the quality of someone recounting ancient history. ”Sarin was being groomed to be our father’s heir. Kronos, the ruler of the Titans before we overthrew them, and later the head of our divine pantheon after that complicated bit of family drama.”

He waved dismissively. ”The point is, Sarin was the perfect candidate for succession. The strongest, the most gifted, the one who could theoretically handle the responsibility of ruling reality itself.”

”What happened?” Jack asked, though part of him already knew the answer wouldn’t be good.

”We betrayed him,” the God of Death said flatly. No shame or justification, he answered bluntly. ”All twelve of us. Draven, myself, our siblings. Everyone you saw in that memory was fighting alongside Sarin. We saw what he was becoming. The madness is growing worse with each passing century. The power spiraling into something we couldn’t control or predict. And we made a decision.”

The god stopped pacing and turned to face Jack directly. ”We tried to cast him down. To strip him of his divinity. To end him before he could become a threat to reality itself. We ambushed him, pooled our power, and struck with everything we had.”

”Did you succeed?” Jack already knew the answer, but he needed to hear it.

”No.” The single word carried volumes of regret. ”We failed. Spectacularly. Sarin survived our attack. Barely, but he survived. And in his retaliation, he did something none of us thought possible.”

The god’s voice dropped to barely above a whisper, as if speaking the words too loudly might somehow make them more real. ”He trapped our father. Kronos, imprisoned in a realm beyond our reach. Another world entirely, sealed away so completely that we’ve been searching for him for millennia without success. Sarin’s prison is... absolute. Perfect. We don’t even know if our father is still alive in there or if time itself has ceased to exist in whatever pocket dimension Sarin created.”

Jack processed this in silence. A mad god. A betrayal by the entire pantheon. The imprisonment of a primordial entity. And Draven was making him experience fragments of this through memory orbs that let him live through Sarin’s past.

”Why?” Jack finally asked. ”Why is Draven showing me these memories? What does any of this have to do with me?”

The God of Death’s burning eyes fixed on Jack with uncomfortable intensity. ”I was hoping you might know the answer to that. Has anyone else approached you about Sarin? Anyone mentioned his name, or his role, or anything related to...”

”The Thirteenth Throne,” Jack interrupted, and watched the god go completely still. ”Wait. The Thirteenth Throne. That’s what this is about, isn’t it?”

”You know about the throne?” The god’s voice carried shock and concern. ”How? Who told you?”

”Cultists found me months ago,” Jack explained, observing the god’s reaction. ”They called themselves... I don’t remember if they gave a group name, but they were zealots. Completely devoted to some prophecy. They approached me in Sorne, surrounded me while I was trying to handle other business.”

Jack’s mind went back to that encounter, remembering the cultists’ disturbing certainty. ”They called me ’Lord of the Thirteenth Throne.’ Said I was destined for something called ’Elemental Convergence.’ They talked about prophecies written in stellar configurations, about me being a bridge between mortal and divine. And here’s the part that really got my attention. They knew Draven was my patron god before I’d told anyone.”

The God of Death’s entire posture changed, tension radiating from his armored form. ”The Children of White Lightning found you? Already? That’s...” He made a sound that might have been a curse in some ancient language. ”That’s really, really not good, Jack.”

”Who are they?” Jack demanded.

”Fanatics who believe the Thirteenth Throne must be filled,” the god replied frantically. ”They’ve existed in various forms for millennia, waiting for someone who matches their prophecies. Someone who can wield multiple elements, who bears divine favor, who shows potential to reach beyond mortal limitations.”

The god’s burning eyes bored into Jack. ”They think you’re meant to become what Sarin was. Or replace him. Or fulfill whatever cosmic role he was supposed to play before we betrayed him and he went completely off the deep end.”

Jack felt his blood run cold. ”But that’s impossible. I only have lightning affinity. Sarin commanded all seven elements. I’m nowhere near...”

”You have lightning now,” the god interrupted. ”But you’re also the first being in recorded history to bear multiple divine blessings. Draven’s given you one, and if you complete my trials, you’ll have mine as well. That’s unprecedented, Jack. That alone puts you in territory no mortal has ever reached. And with those SS-rank talents...” He trailed off meaningfully.

”You think I could actually achieve all seven elemental affinities?” Jack’s voice carried disbelief.

”I don’t know,” the god admitted. ”It seems unlikely. The seven elements are fundamental cosmic forces. Gaining affinity with one is rare. Mastering it is rarer. Having natural talent for two or three? Almost unheard of. But all seven?” He paused. ”Only Sarin ever managed it, and look what it cost him.”

The god began pacing again, his tone becoming more analytical. ”But could you become powerful enough to challenge gods? With SS-rank talents in both martial and magical disciplines, plus multiple divine blessings, plus whatever you’re learning from Sarin’s memories?” He stopped and faced Jack.

”Yes. Absolutely yes. Given enough time and resources, you could potentially become a demigod. From there, with the right circumstances and enough sacrifice, true divinity isn’t out of the question.”

”But?” Jack prompted, hearing the hesitation.

”But becoming a god isn’t just about accumulating power,” the God of Death explained carefully. ”It requires sacrifices. Transformations. The surrender of certain aspects of your humanity that you can never get back. Immortality comes with costs that most mortals don’t understand until it’s too late... until they’ve already given up things that made them them in the first place.”

His voice became grave. ”And even if you somehow achieved godhood, that wouldn’t make you Sarin. It wouldn’t give you his particular madness, his specific gifts, his role in the cosmic order. You’d be something else entirely. Something new. Whether that’s better or worse...” He shrugged. ”The cosmos hasn’t decided yet.”

Jack absorbed this, his mind racing through implications. ”So the cultists are wrong. I’m not destined for the Thirteenth Throne.”

”I didn’t say that,” the god replied with uncomfortable precision.

”I said it seems unlikely you’d become exactly what Sarin was. But the cosmos works in strange ways, Jack. Prophecies have a disturbing habit of fulfilling themselves through the most unexpected paths. Maybe you’re not meant to become Sarin. Maybe you’re meant to replace him. To be something new entirely that serves the same cosmic function he was supposed to fulfill before everything went to shit.”

”And what function is that?” Jack demanded.

”I genuinely don’t know,” the god admitted. ”Sarin’s role in the cosmic order was something our father understood, but he’s been imprisoned for millennia. The Thirteenth Throne sits empty. Whatever purpose it was meant to serve remains unfulfilled. And apparently, prophecy-obsessed cultists think you’re meant to change that.”

Jack stared at the god, trying to find any hint of deception in his burning eye sockets. ”This is insane.”

”Welcome to divine politics,” the god replied dryly. ”It’s insane all the way down.”

”And Erebus?” Jack pressed. ”Where does he fit into all this?”

The God of Death’s posture shifted slightly. ”That’s the fascinating question, isn’t it? Why would a primordial god of darkness want a six-year-old child dead?”

He resumed pacing, his voice taking on a thoughtful tone. ”Here’s what I think, though understand this is speculation, not fact. If the cult has identified you as a potential occupant of the Thirteenth Throne, if Draven is preparing you through those memory orbs, if you’re collecting divine blessings and showing potential that hasn’t been seen since Sarin himself...”

The god stopped and faced Jack directly. ”Then you represent a threat to plans that were probably set in motion millennia ago. Erebus is old, Jack. Primordial. He operates on timeframes and scales that make our long-term planning look like impulse decisions. If he wanted you dead as a child, it’s because future-you threatened something he’s been working toward since before your civilization existed.”

”What could I possibly threaten?” Jack asked, frustration bleeding into his voice.